Since I was seated with virtual strangers, our conversation was more sedate. I had time to observe at least five interesting things about my companions. First, as he’d mentioned earlier, Nathan had moved into the house two weeks ago and would continue living here while he worked on cataloging Grace’s library.
Not a bad gig,
I thought,
especially if meals are included.
Second, Grace preferred that her housekeeper, Merrilee Sweet, a pretty blonde in her late twenties, dined with the guests. I didn’t have the slightest problem with that, but I noticed that Madge sniffed derisively when the lovely housekeeper sat down next to her.
Third, I learned that Grace’s good friend, Ruth Kinsley, who sat on Grace’s right, across the table from Nathan, was actually Grace’s artist in residence and lived nearby on the property. She was given a monthly stipend, and her home was a cozy cottage surrounded by trees and woodland. Fascinating. I was about to ask her what type of art she practiced when Peter Brinker posed an unrelated question about her living conditions, and Ruth, a lively woman with long, graying hair and an infectious smile, went off on the wonderfulness of the heating and air-conditioning unit in the cottage.
Fourth, Harrison Crawford was truly a sweet, jovial man, but Madge continued to play the role of consummate shrew. Her attitude did not improve as the meal
progressed, but Harrison let her foul humor roll off his back. Poor Kiki, though, having Madge for a mother. I learned that Kiki had an older brother and sister, Kieran and Celeste, but neither of them were able to make it to Grace’s party. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d passed on the party because they couldn’t take being cooped up in the same house as their mother for a week.
Kiki seemed to have inherited her father’s geniality, luckily for all of us.
Fifth, Peter Brinker and his wife, Sybil, barely spoke to each other—unless Peter tried to converse with anyone else. Then Sybil would find any excuse to disrupt the conversation in order to tell Peter something that had just that moment occurred to her, apparently. She had interrupted me twice already, and while I understood it was probably because of her own lack of self-confidence, I was starting to dislike the woman almost as much as I disliked Madge. Sybil was so insipid that if it hadn’t been for the fact that she was a high-powered CFO for a multinational corporation, I would’ve thought she was a rich, bored housewife whose only creative outlets were shopping and manicures.
But that wasn’t nice of me. I hadn’t gotten a chance to get to know Sybil yet, but I was willing to believe she would turn out to be very nice. Unlike Madge.
Wanting to stay with my new positive groove, I fought back my negative feelings toward Madge. How could I expect to be a font of optimism and hope if I abhorred someone? Hoping to readjust my downbeat attitude toward Madge—and Sybil, too, for that matter—I consumed liberal amounts of the smooth, full-bodied cabernet Grace was serving.
It worked. Halfway through the pasta course, I realized I loved everyone. Oh, boy. It was time to switch to water.
The main course consisted of a slab of rich polenta topped with ricotta cheese and drenched in a luscious, light, broth-based chunky tomato sauce with plump sausages
and chicken that were both so moist and light they almost melted in my mouth.
The meal was essentially peasant fare, but in the hands of a talented chef, it had become haute cuisine. I wanted to lick my plate but figured that would be tacky.
“Was I right?” Nathan asked as he polished off his own meal.
“Incredible,” I mumbled as I gulped down another bite of tender, fennel-infused sausage with a dollop of polenta smothered in red sauce. “I need this recipe.” Tomorrow I would talk to Chef Tang and beg if I had to. This dish would be a perfect addition to my fledgling repertoire of things I could cook.
Dessert was a deep, rich chocolate soufflé with a generous side of whipped cream. There were no words to describe it, except
Oh, mercy
.
“Attention! Attention!” Grace cried gaily as she tapped her fork against her crystal wineglass.
I caught Suzie’s eye and she winked at me. I’d had enough wine that I winked back, and that’s when I noticed that Stephen Fowler was glaring in my direction. I shivered as I looked away, then wondered if perhaps his eyes had been shooting daggers beyond me, toward Grace instead.
We all looked at her attentively. She appeared flushed and happy, no doubt from all the great food and wine, but also because she was surrounded by the people she loved. Well, except for Stephen Fowler and Madge. And Sybil, too, I supposed. I couldn’t imagine Grace loving any one of those three.
I mentally smacked myself.
Be nice!
“I’m so pleased to have you all here to celebrate my birthday. The Big Five-Oh! Heavens! I never thought I’d live this long.”
I almost laughed. Grace was close to my mother’s age but looked even younger, with her diminutive figure and cute hair, not to mention her youthful attitude. She waved her hands in the air theatrically. “Never mind. I
refuse to get maudlin about my age, because I’ve never felt better.”
We all hooted and applauded and Grace laughed. “All right, enough about old age. Let’s talk about some rumors that have been flying around. I’m about to quash one of them right now.”
I turned in time to catch Sybil giving Peter a sharp look. Merrilee’s face was serene, but Marko’s frown lines practically obliterated his forehead. Stephen Fowler’s face became even more pinched than usual. Bella slurped her wine, blissfully ignorant of the tension growing around the table. Suzie and Vinnie exchanged anxious but knowing glances, certain that Grace was about to announce that she was making changes to her will.
Instead Grace jumped up and grabbed what looked like a full ream of paper bound together by some sort of wide tape binding. “It’s done!” she cried, waving the heavy document in the air. “Finished! My first novel! And you’re all in it!”
There was a moment of silence; then the entire group burst into noisy applause again.
“Congratulations!” Nathan said.
“Mazel tov!” Bella cried, and slugged down the rest of her wine.
“Wonderful, Auntie!” Kiki shouted.
Almost everyone at the table added their good wishes and cheery congratulations. I was glad the mood had lifted, because up until a few seconds ago I was afraid I would be dodging a number of steak knives aimed at Grace.
As the cheering died down, Grace placed the heavy manuscript on the table. She had tears in her eyes. “Thank you all so much. You make me feel like a superstar.”
“That’s exactly what you are,” Ruth said, loyal as ever.
“Oh, Ruth. You’re prejudiced,” Grace said, patting her friend’s hand. “But thank you. Now let me tell you all about this book. As you might imagine, the story is very near and dear to my heart. It’s a roman à clef of sorts, about a smart, spunky woman who starts out with nothing and ends up creating a multimillion-dollar corporation that makes all kinds of games.”
“Genius,” Bella shouted.
For some reason her comment made me laugh, and a few others joined me. Next to me, Peter appeared contemplative. Sybil was practically scowling. Marko still didn’t look too comfortable, but Bella was howling with laughter and pounding the table. She didn’t seem at all concerned about the contents of the book, but maybe she was too tanked to care.
As Grace spoke, Sybil pretended to enjoy the repartee, but I could feel her vibe from two chairs away. She wasn’t pleased. But then she hadn’t looked very happy all evening. That went double for Madge. She looked positively furious. What was that all about? Had she already read the book? Did she know what was in it?
“Now, don’t worry,” Grace said. “The names have been changed to protect the guilty. You know who you are!”
More furtive glances were exchanged around the table. Some of the guests appeared intrigued, some looked suspicious, and some—Madge, of course, plus Stephen Fowler, and, surprisingly, Marko—looked downright annoyed. I leaned over, pretending to fiddle with a flower that had fallen from the vase, and caught a glimpse of Sybil. She looked like she’d been slapped hard. Interesting.
Personally, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on a copy of Grace’s book, but then I am a naturally curious person. Or just plain nosy.
“I’ve sent the manuscript off to a New York publisher,” Grace continued, patting her chest as her emotions caught up with her. “But…I have copies! So everyone here will get a first look at it.”
“Lucky us,” Madge muttered.
Grace waved toward the antique sideboard along the wall. “The copies are stacked over there, so be sure to pick one up after dinner. And I mean this: I want you all to give me your honest opinions.”
I wasn’t an expert on these things, but I could pretty much guarantee she wouldn’t want to hear too many honest opinions from this group.
“I’ve read it already and it’s brilliant,” Merrilee said, her tone earnest.
“Oh, there’s an objective opinion,” Peter muttered beside me.
Grace paid no attention to the grumbling. “Now, enough about me. I want everyone to have fun this week! My niece Kiki is a certified masseuse and she’s agreed to provide a selection of spa delights each and every day for anyone who’s interested.”
Kiki raised her hand, then stood so the guests would know who Grace was referring to.
“Catch me anytime,” Kiki said, “and I’ll schedule a massage for you. I do manicures and pedicures, too. I’ll come to your room or we can meet in the pool house beyond the conservatory.”
“How marvelous,” Vinnie said.
A massage does sound wonderful,
I thought. I would definitely be signing up for that.
Once Kiki sat down, Grace continued. “If you simply feel like curling up with a good book, my library has thousands on every subject imaginable.” Grace favored me with a smile, then moved on, saying, “And of course there are walking paths along the lake and through the forest if you’re looking for something more active to do.”
“But I’ve heard there may be snow,” Ruth said. “So bundle up if you go outside.”
“Now for tonight’s entertainment,” Grace said, pressing her hands together in excitement. “Fritz, our piano player, has agreed to stay and play for two more hours in the music room, so if you want to dance or sing along, please do. You all know about the toys we have in the game room, and for anyone interested, I’ll be reading tarot cards in the card room.”
“I want to go first,” Sybil said eagerly, surprising me. She had barely spoken all evening.
“And so you shall,” Grace said, nodding regally.
“I’ve got dibs on the backgammon board,” Harrison said. “Who’s with me?”
“I’ll play,” Peter said.
Nathan raised his hand. “Me, too.”
“I’ll be at the bar,” Marko said.
Bella raised her hand. “Me, too.” For some reason, Marko found that hilarious.
“And tomorrow night,” Grace continued, raising her voice to drown out Marko’s snorting laugh, “as part of my homage to the great English house-party mysteries of yesteryear, we’ll have a séance.”
“Cool,” Kiki said.
“Figures.” Marko giggled as he nudged Bella. “House Party Mystery is still one of your best games.”
“And best-
selling
,” she added with a wink.
“This should be interesting,” Peter murmured.
Grace smiled and nodded in agreement.
I’d never been to a séance before, but it sounded like fun. It was too bad my mother couldn’t be here. She would get a big kick out of communing with all her close personal friends in the spirit world.
Nathan sat back in his chair. “Knowing Grace, we should prepare ourselves for plenty of tricks and teasers during the séance.”
“Well, of course,” Grace said, causing a few of us to laugh some more. And a few of us weren’t laughing at all. Interesting.
“I think there’s a football game on tomorrow night,” Marko said suddenly. “I was hoping to watch it.”
“Yeah, it’s a big one,” Nathan said. “Bills versus Pats.”
“We’ll tape it and you’ll watch it later,” Grace said with a determined smile that quickly turned somber. “There’s one more important announcement I’d like to make, but I’ve decided to save it until my birthday party on Friday night.”
“How intriguing,” Sybil said, though her tone implied the opposite.
“Another announcement?” Madge said under her breath. “Hasn’t she made enough?”
Grace gazed around the table. “I’m afraid some of you might find it shocking.”
I took a quick peek at Suzie, whose lips were pressed together in a worried frown. Could Grace’s coming announcement have something to do with changing her will?
“That’s enough seriousness. I want to laugh.” Grace raised her glass to toast her guests, then drained the contents in one gulp. “It’s time for some fun and games.”
Vinnie caught up with me in the hall, where I had stopped to admire a medieval shield of armor backed by two crossed swords. The swords were shiny, heavy, and sharp-looking. One of them would make a fearsome weapon if I were being chased through the halls by a madwoman.
And where had that thought come from?
Taking hold of my arm, Vinnie said in a confidential tone, “Suzie is now certain that Grace intends to rewrite her will.”
“Does she still think Grace would cut her out?”
“It’s of no importance to me, Brooklyn. You know we’ve done quite well with our art.” Suzie and Vinnie were talented, well-known chainsaw artists who worked with large chunks of wood that came mainly from fallen trees rescued from the forest floor. Their award-winning designs had been displayed and sold in art galleries all over California.
“But I do worry that Grace will hurt Suzie’s feelings,” Vinnie said. “And some of the relatives aren’t happy at all. Suzie tries to ignore their griping and sniping, but it’s not easy. They’re her family.”
“But how do they even know it’s true? They may be jumping to the wrong conclusion.” I didn’t want to mention that if Grace was serious about taunting her relatives with the possibility that she might change her will, she was taking this homage to the House Party Mystery game too far. Wasn’t threatening to change one’s will the ultimate cliché in terms of house-party machinations?