Embers (30 page)

"
Anyone with two hundred dollars
apiece
can go,
"
Allie corrected.

"
Yowch. Two tickets—or a new washing machine. What d
'
you think? Are you willing to wash the sheets and towels by hand for the rest of the summer?
"
Meg asked, half seriously.

"
When hell freezes over,
"
her sister said, loading up the next plate of crêpes.
"
No. Your original plan
'
s a good one. Not to mention, we
'
ll make a few bucks.
"

"
You could always try getting Bobby Beaufort to ask you,
"
Meg said with a hopeful, almost wistful look.
"
I hear he
'
s landed a great new job at Auto Central.
"

"Please
. Bobby is a boy. A local boy at that.
"

"
Oh, dear! And everybody knows how you feel about
them!
"

"
Excuse me. Miss?
"

It came from one of their guests, a nicely dressed woman who obviously believed that someone evil had switched the Inn Between for the Elm Tree Inn just before her arrival. This
was the third unhappy day she
'
d spent complaining. About
everything.

She was holding a plate of Meg
'
s crêpes in her hand.
"
Excuse me,
"
she repeated.
"
Have these been fried on hydrogenated fat?
"

"
Oh, no, ma
'
am,
"
said Meg blandly.
"
We only use pure butter.
"

"
Butter!
Almost as bad
! I don
'
t see how I can eat this. Will you be serving something less fatty this morning?
"

The sisters exchanged a look. Meg said,
"
We have yogurt
;
home-made granola . .

"
We can blend you a health drink of brewer
'
s yeast and orange juice,
"
added Allie with no attempt to hide the malice in her voice.

"Mm-m, no
...
I really was in the mood for cooked food.
"

Allie, standing behind the guest, made a strangling gesture with her hands, but Meg merely smiled and said,
"
I can make you some oatmeal with skim milk.
"

"
Oatmeal . . hmm, No, it
'
s too warm out for hot oatmeal.
"
She waited for more.

"
I see,
"
said Meg.
"
Nothing hot, nothing cold. Something in between. Perhaps you have a suggestion?
"
she said with a dry smile.

"
Yes. I
'
d love French toast made with egg whites.
No fat
, of course. Or maybe with just a wee spray of
canola oil
.
"

"
Certainly,
"
said Meg, taking the plate of crêpes from the fat-fearing guest.
"
It
'
ll be just a few minutes.
"

"
Oh, good. Because I
'
ve a big day planned.
"

"
Hiking?
"
asked Meg politely.
"
Bicycling?
"

"
Antiquing. It can be surprisingly tiring,
"
she said with a straight face.
"
Ta!
"

She went back to the dining room and Allie said,
"
Yeah, it has to be exhausting, lifting that Visa card in and out of her wallet.
''

"
Now, Allie. Just because the woman
has
a Visa card.
"

Allie, whose own card had a three-hundred-dollar limit and an interest rate of twenty-three percent, said,
"
Why do you humor her?
"

"
Why do I humor
you?
"

Allie snorted and said,
"
You certainly are in the right trade, Mrs. Hazard.
"

"
True,
"
her sister agreed, dragging out the griddle.
"
Maybe we should try returning your degree in hotel administration for a refund. Or better yet, get it awarded to me.
You
sure as hell aren
'
t going to use it.
"

"
Yes, I am. But I won
'
t waste my time on people like her.
"

"
Allie, that
is
the hospitality business. You have to be able to smile, smile, smile.
"

"
No. People should be honest about how they feel. People should say what they think. If someone is being impossible, you should be able to say so to him. People should never be martyrs to the selfishness of others. The world would be a better, more honest place.
"

Meg gave her sister a long, pensive look.
If only that were true,
she thought, sighing.

She got a loaf of Pepperidge Farm toasting white out of the fridge.
"
You
'
re beginning to worry me, Allie,
"
she said.
"I'm not sure anymore that
you
'
re cut out for hotel management.
"

"
If this is your idea of hotel management, then you
'
re right,
"
Allie said, tossing back her mane of black hair.
"
I have grander plans.
"

"
Such as what? You showed absolutely no interest in the White Horse Inn during your interview there; I know
that
for a fact.
"
She cracked an egg and dropped it back and forth in its shell, separating the yolk from the white.

"
The White Horse Inn is not, I repeat not, on my agenda. I
'
ve told you before, Meg; I want to work in a big city.
"

"
I don
'
t see you pounding the
Boston
pavements,
"
Meg said irritably.

"
I don
'
t want
Boston
.
"
She paused, then said,
"
I want
Chicago
. I
'
ve decided not to look anywhere else.
"

Meg whacked the second egg to smithereens, contaminating the first white with yellow yolk.
"
Chicago
! Why
Chicago
?
"
she said, without trusting herself to look up. She dumped the egg mess down the drain and started over.

"
Why. Why do you
think
?
"
Allie said impatiently.
"
Because
Tom
lives there. Because he
'
s not going to relocate his career to some one-horse town on a two-horse island in
Maine
. Because when you love someone, you don
'
t ask whether it
'
s convenient; you go where he goes. And anyway, it
is
convenient!
"
she said hotly.
"
He
'
s established, I
'
m not. It
'
s the simplest thing in the world for me to pick up and move west.
"

"
What about your ambitions? What about your grand schemes?
"

"
Chicago
has
plenty
of opportunities. And they say the people are open and friendly
—
"

"
You
'
re crazy! You
'
d hate it! There
'
s nothing there! Flatland! That
'
s
it!
"
she said, smashing another egg to a pulp.

"
What do
I
care if the land is flat or pointy?
"
demanded Allie.
"
The Great Outdoors has always been
your
thing, Meg, not mine.
"

"
What about
us?
What about your
family
?
"
asked Meg, whirling around on her sister. Her heart was pounding violently in her breast.

When you love someone
.

Allie was silent, obviously uncomfortable with the turn in the conversation.

Meg got herself under control and said softly,
"
What if he doesn
'
t love you?
"

"He
does,
"
her sister answered, just as softly.
"
That
'
s not the issue.
"

"
He
— o
h. I didn
'
t know that,
"
Meg said, stunned.

It was as if someone had set off a stick of dynamite on the linoleum beneath her. She watched in slow motion as tables and chairs, pots and pans, the bottle of Joy and the pink Brillo pad all seemed to lift up and away and float back down again, in bits and pieces around her head.

"
So it
'
s all settled
...
between you?
"

"
It
'
s not completely settled,
"
said Allie with a proud lift of her head.

Suddenly it was Meg and not the kitchen furnishings that seemed to be floating upward.
"
Oh!
Well
."

"
Shhht!
"
said Allie, glancing out the window above the sink.
"
Here he comes! I
'
ll die if he catches us at this again!
"

M
eg thought Tom looked depressingly cheerful and handsome. Maybe it was the wild Hawaiian shirt he was wearing; it was a charmingly absurd change of pace for him. And his sandy hair was getting truly shaggy, adding to the laid-back look. Homicide cop? He looked more like a volleyball star.

Meg said briskly,
"
Mornin
'
, Lieutenant,
"
and went back to the fridge for yet another round of eggs.

"
Tom Wyler,
"
Allie said, comically shading her eyes with her hand,
"
where
did
you get that shirt? Not at L. L. Bean
'
s, I can tell you that.
"
She herself was dressed in pure white, her color of choice on hot days.

"
This is a gen-yew-ine Acapulco Hawaiian shirt,
"
Tom said with an ironic little tug on its front placket.
"
The real thing. My sergeant brought it back with him after an R&R trip down there.
Acapulco
'
s one of the department
'
s hot spots.
"

"
So why are you in
Bar Harbor
?
"
muttered Meg as she dredged through the utensil drawer for the egg separator.