“Downstairs. I’ll go now and bring everything up. It’s nice and cozy here, don’t you think?”
Daddy looks upset. “No, Mayda, that’s too much work. Let’s all go downstairs and have dessert in the kitchen.”
“Oh, dear,” Aunt Mayda says, looking perplexed. “It will only take a few trips, and I certainly don’t mind.”
My mind chugs like a computer as I calculate plates, silverware, and food—the way Mom did for every meal she prepared. Aunt Mayda doesn’t realize, but there’s too much stuff to lug upstairs.
“I’ll help, Aunt Mayda,” I say quickly, “but I think Daddy’s right. It will be much easier to eat in the kitchen.”
Aunt Mayda and Robby look longingly at the fire. “I thought it would be nice to have our dessert up here.” She says it so wistfully, I know she’s been looking forward to this.
“Maybe we can do it another time,” Robby says. “When we get the marshmallows.”
I hug Robby for making us laugh. He squirms out of my arms. “Let go, Vannie. I want some chocolate cake.”
Downstairs, I set out dishes while Aunt Mayda puts up coffee. Daddy takes milk and fruit from the refrigerator.
“What should I do, Aunt Mayda?” Robby asks.
“You can get the napkins from the pantry.”
Soon we’re gobbling up huge pieces of cake with our milk or coffee.
“Have some fruit.” Aunt Mayda holds the big fruit bowl out to Robby.
“You sound like Mommy.”
Daddy, Aunt Mayda, and I freeze.
“Do I?” Aunt Mayda finally asks. Her voice is husky.
“Uh-huh. She was always nagging us to eat fruit, wasn’t she, Vannie?”
“I guess.”
“Well, I hate fruit,” Robby declares.
“Well, it’s good for you,” Aunt Mayda says calmly. “Try some grapes. These are nice and sweet.”
She puts a small bunch on Robby’s plate. He eats them without a word. Smart move, I think. Brilliant, actually, for someone who doesn’t know much about kids.
Daddy reaches over and rubs Aunt Mayda’s shoulder. I nearly jump out of my chair from shock. He’s only thanking her for getting Robby to eat some fruit, I tell myself. But he can use words instead of touching her.
My tone is brusque when I address Aunt Mayda. “You said you’d show me some photographs of your grandparents. Can I see them now?”
“Vannie! What’s gotten into you?” Daddy’s both puzzled and annoyed.
All I know is, I’m furious with Aunt Mayda. Then I catch the hurt look in her eyes and my anger dies away.
“Sure, Vannie. I’ll get them now.”
Her face is rosy as she leaves the kitchen.
Is she blushing because something’s happening between her and my father? Or is she upset with me?
Robby leans against Daddy and lets out an enormous yawn.
Daddy takes Robby on his lap. “Maybe you can look at the pictures another time. Robby’s falling asleep.”
“Oh, no! Please, Daddy. It won’t take long.”
Before he can answer, Mayda reappears with a large manila envelop. She clears the table and spills out its contents. Gingerly, I lift one photo after another. I skim through the pictures of her grandmother when she was a child and a teenager and focus on those of Archie and Elizabeth—on the tennis court, aboard a boat, dressed up for a gala occasion—many with groups of laughing friends.
They’re a marvelously good-looking couple. Archie’s tall and slim; Elizabeth’s petite and shapely. They beam at one other in every shot, their arms entwined around each other’s waist.
“They look so happy,” I say.
“Oh, they were! Grannie never tired of telling me how much in love they were. Isn’t Archie handsome?”
“Hmmm,” I agree, though Aunt Mayda has no idea how immature her grandfather can behave. “Looks like your grandparents had many friends.”
Aunt Mayda nods. “Grannie was a popular young girl, and her parents held many parties in her honor. In fact, she met Archie at one of her own parties.”
A young man with a mustache appears in every group picture. In one photograph he’s staring intently at Elizabeth.
“Who’s that?” I ask.
“Peter Cartwright. His parents were good friends of Grannie’s parents.”
“He seems very interested in Elizabeth—I mean your grandmother.”
Aunt Mayda nods. “He adored her. Peter wanted to marry her, but Grannie wasn’t interested. Aside from not loving him, she hated that he gambled and drank.”
She gives a little laugh. “How ironic that Peter brought my grandfather to one of the parties. They worked in the same architectural firm.”
My spine tingles with the thrill of discovery. Surely Peter is the thief who stole the necklace!
Aunt Mayda continues. “My grandparents met and it was love at first sight.”
“I bet Peter wasn’t happy about that,” I say.
“Grannie said Peter came to see her once after my grandfather died, then she never saw him again. She was relieved because she was afraid he was going to ask her to marry him again. Poor Grannie. She was only twenty-two when she lost Archie and determined never to marry again.”
“How did your grandfather die?” Robby asks, now fully awake.
Mayda hesitates, then she says, “He drowned in the pond.”
“In the pond!” Robby shouts. “You mean the pond full of ducks that’s on the way to our cottage?”
“The very same.”
“Gross!”
“It was a terrible freak accident,” Aunt Mayda says. “Grannie screamed that someone had stolen her necklace. Archie chased after the thief in the dark. He tripped, hit his head, and drowned.”
“Too bad nobody was around to save him,” Daddy says.
“Everyone was upstairs dressing when it happened. By the time they found flashlights and joined in the chase, Archie was nowhere in sight. Poor Grannie. Losing Archie broke her heart. She was never the same after that night.”
I feel tears welling up. Without a word, I get up to hug Aunt Mayda.
Daddy clears his throat. “I think it’s time we were going, Mayda. Thanks for dessert.”
Aunt Mayda smiles. “And thank you for dinner. Sorry to end the evening on a sad note.”
She goes upstairs for our jackets. I pretend not to watch when she and Daddy say good night. They hug. Kiss each other on the cheek. Nothing romantic about it. Still—
“What time are you leaving tomorrow?” Daddy asks her. “The Halloween party’s next week, and I need your input on the decorations.” He winks. “Especially since you’re the hostess.”
They’re off and talking again. The anger in my chest flares up. I want to scream at Daddy and Mayda to stop being so—so fixed on each other. Instead, I let out a noisy sigh. I sigh again. They pay no attention and keep on talking.
“Let’s go.” Robby tugs at Daddy’s jacket.
I open the front door and stand with my arms crossed, glaring.
Aunt Mayda looks at Robby then at me, as if she’s surprised we’re still there. Then she blinks, embarrassed. “Sorry. I suppose we got carried away.”
I don’t answer.
“Good night, Robby. Good night, Vannie.” She hugs me, feels my stiff body that doesn’t hug back. “Is everything all right?” she asks, her voice uncertain.
“Just tired.” I turn away from the question in her eyes.
Daddy, Robby, and I get into the car. Daddy’s clearly annoyed with me.
“Vannie, you were rude to Mayda just now,” he says as he starts the motor. “That’s not very nice, considering all she’s done for us.”
Now I’m furious with Daddy for taking her side.
“Aunt Mayda! Merrymount Gardens! That’s all you care about. Why don’t you get a life—a separate life—so we don’t have to live here anymore!”
Daddy stops the car and turns to me. “But I thought you were getting to like it here.”
“Well, I don’t! I hate it!”
I burst into tears. When we get to the cottage, I storm upstairs and slam my bedroom door shut. I wake up hours later and realize I’ve fallen asleep with my clothes on.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I change into my pajamas and robe then go downstairs to use the bathroom. The act of brushing my teeth comforts me because it’s something I’ve been doing for as long as I can remember. The rest of my life is spinning out of control. I’ve lost my mother and my home, and now I’m about to lose Daddy.
I want Daddy and Archie and Aunt Mayda to be happy, but I can’t deal with any more changes. It isn’t fair of them to turn my life topsy-turvy. It isn’t fair!! I plan to write it in huge block letters in my notebook.
I need lots of space and fresh air. I grab my jacket and rush outside.
“Meow.”
I stumble as something soft and furry wraps itself around my ankles.
“Theodore!” I whisper.
I bend down to stroke his back. Even in my unhappiness, I’m touched that he’s allowing me to pet him. But only for half a minute. Theodore steps back and meows again.
“Hungry, are you? Wait here and I’ll get you some food.”
I swear he understands every word I say. When I come out with a box of dried cat food, he follows me into the shed then watches while I fill his empty dish.
“You are the smartest cat,” I tell him.
Theodore doesn’t answer. He’s busy eating. I stroke his back again and he doesn’t flinch.
“You’re going to make Robby a great pet, aren’t you? Just as Tammy said you would.”
His answer is a rumbling purr.
I’m too wide awake to sleep. I walk along the moonlit path in the opposite direction of the duck pond. The trees cast giant shadows, but they don’t frighten me. No one’s here at MG except Daddy, Robby, Aunt Mayda, and me. And Archie, who’s got to be the least scariest ghost in the world.
I’m approaching Casey’s workplace, The Shed, when a blast of cold air passes before me. Archie’s here, and for once I wish he wasn’t.
“Good evening, Vanessa, or is it good morning?”
“Hi,” I say, and keep on walking.
Archie falls into step beside me. “Isn’t this rather an odd time to be out for a stroll?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
He turns and gazes into my eyes. “Something has upset you.”
I squirm because I have the awful feeling he can see into my head and read my thoughts. “It’s been a funny night.”
“Funny? In what way?”
“Weird funny.”
For a moment he doesn’t answer, then he says, “Let’s stop and talk about it, why don’t we?” He points to a bench a few feet away. “That looks like the perfect spot.”
He’s all take charge and serious for once, and I know he won’t take no for an answer. And so, though talking about my father and Mayda is the last thing I want to do, I sit down on the bench. Fine. I’ll tell Archie exactly how I feel and get this over, once and for all. As Tammy said, he can’t make me do anything I don’t want to.
“Where did the four of you dine?” Archie asks.
“At the Thirsdale Inn. Aunt Mayda knows the owner.”
“That sounds pleasant. Did you enjoy your meal?”
“Yes.”
Archie paces before me. I’m surprised. No back flips. No handstands.
“And what of your father and Mayda? Did they seem amiable toward each other?”
“Sure,” I say. “They’re real amiable.”
“Vanessa!” His disapproval rings through the darkness. “There’s no need for sarcasm.”
“Look, I’m not your matchmaker! If you want to see Mayda married, sign her up on some singles web sites.”
His mouth falls open. “Such phenomena exist?”
“Of course. This is the twenty-first century.”
He considers this, but returns to his boring old topic.
“You imply your father and Mayda were getting along nicely. Is that correct?”
I shrug.
“And this makes you unhappy?”
“Look, Daddy just lost his wife. He has no business thinking of anyone else.”
Archie stands before me and strokes his chin. “I understand,” he says slowly. “You’re jealous.”
“I am not!”
“And unwilling to see your father enjoy the rest of his life with another woman.”
I cross my arms and my legs, trying to get warm. Archie steps closer, chilling me. My teeth start to chatter. He doesn’t notice or care.
“Vanessa, have you forgotten? You agreed not to stand in the way of their budding romance.”
“Well, I’ve changed my mind.”
“You can’t change your mind.”
“Yes, I can!”
“NO!” Archie spins around and around, faster and faster until he’s a gray blur of motion. He revolves around the bench like a whirlpool, a frigid whirlpool that numbs my lips and my limbs. When he stops abruptly, he’s transparent and his features are contorted with rage.
“You promised not to impede their romance. You promised! You gave your word!”
I’m terrified but I’m angry as well. “I didn’t promise anything, Archie.” I stand up. “I’m leaving.”
He blocks my path, emanating coldness that grips my bones and makes me shudder. “I befriended you. I gave you recipes, and this is the gratitude you show me!”
My breath comes in puffs as I speak. “You used me, Archie, because you wanted my help.”