Morning Glory Circle (10 page)

Caroline’s setups sometimes included Hannah as well. One summer Caroline invited Maggie and Hannah for a week-long stay on the outer banks of North Carolina, but once the two got down there, they discovered a house full of Caroline’s hard partying, condescending friends from college. Alarmed and repulsed by all the pretentious posing, cocaine snorting, and partner swapping that took place on the first night, they had driven home early the next morning.

“Your trouble is,” Hannah said, as she pointed a fork full of hash browns at Maggie, “you keep expecting her to be like you and me, when she’s nothing like us.”

“I know,” Maggie said, “and I know that shouldn’t matter so much.”

After lunch, Maggie checked in at the bookstore, and Jeanette came to her with a concerned look on her face.

“Your friend Caroline came in and got a big stack of books,” she said quietly. “I mean hundreds of dollars worth. She said you wouldn’t care.”

Maggie’s hurt feelings zoomed into anger, and she took a few moments to calm her temper before she spoke.

“The next time Caroline comes in, tell her she needs to see me before she takes anything else. Also, please total up everything she’s taken so far, and give her an invoice, due upon receipt.”

Maggie could tell Jeanette was pleased with her answer, but she didn’t go into it with her.

Caroline Eldridge dropped the books she’d taken from Maggie’s store down on the polished table in the formal entry of her sister Gwyneth’s house. The stately Edwardian home had served as the Eldridge College president’s residence after their father died up until the time Gwyneth claimed it, after their brother Theo’s death. The college president and his wife barely had time to put their belongings in storage and move into the Eldridge Inn before Gwyneth’s moving van arrived.

“As you can see, there were some hideous attempts at amateur interior decoration which I have yet to address,” Gwyneth said, by way of greeting, as she descended the central stairway in a grand manner. “The college president’s wife had an unfortunate fondness for pastel floral wallpaper.”

“Hello Gwyneth, how are you?” Caroline said, and the two sisters, who hadn’t seen each other in many years, shared an air kiss to each side of the face.

“My interior designer, Blaine, is coming down this week to show me some new sketches. Unfortunately I am at the mercy of a vanishing contractor and the ignorant local tradesmen. There is no sense of urgency or pride of workmanship among them that I can detect. It’s all, ‘We’ll get to it,’ and ‘I’m waiting on the supplier,’ until I just want to scream. You can’t even throw money at problems down here, it doesn’t do any good.”

“How are you, though? Are you well?”

“As well as can be expected, I suppose, considering the conditions. I had to import staff from the city and they’re all suffering from culture shock.”

“It’s not that bad, surely,” Caroline said.

“I warned them,” Gwyneth said. “‘This is not a lark in the Hamptons,’ I said. ‘This is a safari into deepest, darkest Appalachia.’ They didn’t believe me, of course. Now they’re frantically calling their families to send them care packages, like Oxfam.”

“They’ll get used to it,” Caroline said.

“Their cell phones and wireless laptops don’t work here,” Gwyneth sighed, “and they act like someone’s pulled their IV’s out. I’ve had to double their salaries just to keep them here. They’ve taken to referring to it as hillbilly boot camp.”

“It’s hard to get good staff, that’s what Daddy always said,” Caroline said. “At least they’re being paid fair wages.”

“More than fair, I’d say. The locals are unemployable, of course, and so hostile. This town is trapped in the past, and not in the charming, marketable way that Martha’s Vineyard is. The mayor and his wife are the only semi-civilized people I’ve met, and the only ones interested in my suggestions for improvements to the town. I’m glad you’re here, darling, although I have to say, you look a mess. What are you wearing?”

“This is an improvement on what I arrived wearing, believe you me. I wish you and I were the same size, Gwyneth. I need some natural fibers and I know you have them.”

“As a matter of fact, I just bought the most divine cashmere wrap in the palest oyster color. Come up and see.”

Gwyneth crossed the foyer and ascended the stairs with Caroline following.

“The cashmere trade is terrible for the goats, you know, Gwyneth. They’re often ill-treated.”

“Not these goats, I can assure you. My stylist Marissa says they gather just the tiniest bits of chin hair from each one. It probably feels like the barest tickle, and they are all so spoiled and fat. They give the most heavenly filaments. It’s the softest, lightest, warmest thing you’ve ever felt. You’ll want to wash your hands first, of course, before you touch it. Your cuticles are beyond help, I fear. They’ve run amok.”

Caroline dutifully washed her hands before she made her way to Gwyneth’s dressing room for the show and tell portion of the visit.

“I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed hot water and hand cream,” Caroline said. “Although I wish you’d read the labels and make sure there’s no animal testing involved.”

“You’re always so serious, Caroline. Lighten up, please, will you? Let’s not worry for ten seconds about lab rabbits, and just enjoy my beautiful clothes together, shall we?”

“Alright, but it really is the most frightful waste of resources and a shameful display of excess.”

“Oh, I know it, but don’t be cross. Tell you what, I’ll have Louise fix us a nice lunch and then you can tell me about all the dreary things you’ve been doing in all those awful places you go.”

Caroline sighed, but acquiesced. Gwyneth was her only living relative on this side of the Atlantic, after all.

Later, after lunch, Gwyneth broached the delicate subject of money.

“When you talk to Paxton, my love, just tell him you’re broke, and he simply must advance you some of your inheritance. That’s what I did and the coffers were immediately opened wide. Now there is as much money as I need, right there in my account, whenever I need it. It’s all electronic these days.”

“Except Theo didn’t leave mine to me like he left yours to you, so accessible,” Caroline said. “Mine’s all tied up in trusts, and Paxton will probably put me on some sort of budget, or make me submit receipts.”

“How dreadful,” Gwyneth said, but smiled as if it was delicious to hear. “I’m sure I could help you out if you’re desperate.”

“Well, not exactly desperate. I got Paxton to pay for the plane fare.”

“But how did you get here from the airport? Why didn’t you call me? I would have sent my car for you.”

“It was two in the morning and I didn’t have money for a hotel room or a rental car. I know how you hate to have your sleep disturbed, so I called Maggie, and she came to get me.”

“Oh, that odious book store woman. I don’t know how you could stand her for five minutes, let alone for two hours in a car.”

“I slept most of the way. The thing about Maggie is I knew she’d do it. She’s like that. You call and she comes.”

“Like a faithful, stupid dog.”

“Handy to have around, though, and she’s got great taste in books. Her store is very well stocked.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Gwyneth said, still smarting from being banned from entering that particular establishment, after literally being thrown out of it.

“She introduced me to a great guy, too; Dr. Drew Rosen, have you met him?”

“A doctor, and on your first day, how lovely,” Gwyneth said with a marked lack of enthusiasm.

“He’s a veterinarian.”

“Oh, I see. Not a real doctor, then.”

“Gwyneth, you haven’t changed a bit.”

“I had a little work done, does it show?”

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

Ava Fitzpatrick put the finishing touches on the flower arrangement she had created for the library table in the entryway. The snow was falling in downy clusters, making her three-story Victorian home turned bed and breakfast look like a Currier and Ives illustration come to life. Every available room was booked for the festival, and guests were due to begin arriving soon.

Ava stacked firewood in the fireplace of the front parlor, and lit the crumpled up newspaper beneath it so a warm blaze would greet the new arrivals. She checked her makeup in the hall mirror, smoothed her hair back from her face, and practiced a friendly smile. It would be nonstop for her over the next several days, with long hours of hard work and not much sleep. And no Patrick, she’d resolved.

When Ava’s husband Brian deserted her and their two children, his brother Patrick stepped in to become a rock she could lean on. Patrick and the rest of Brian’s extended family helped her transform a falling down money-pit into a showplace that supported her little broken family over the intervening years. She sacrificed much, went without any personal luxuries, and worked her fingers to the bone to make the business a success. In part because of Patrick’s presence in their lives, her children were secure and well adjusted, so Ava felt it was all worth it. Unfortunately, and almost without realizing it, she had fallen deeply in love with Patrick along the way.

They managed to keep their affair hidden for a long time, but since Theo Eldridge died and left a large sum of money to her in his will, the town’s gossip mill had been grinding at her heels, and people were suddenly noticing things that had gone on under their very noses before. People like Patrick’s mother, for instance, the fierce and devoutly Catholic Bonnie Fitzpatrick, who had taken to making surprise visits to the bed and breakfast, and making knowing remarks.

When Patrick became a suspect in Theo’s murder investigation, in part because of his close relationship with her, Ava had put a stop to his late night visits, and made every effort never to be alone with him. It was difficult though, to resist the lure of his strong arms around her, and his passionate kisses. She longed for him all the way down in her bones, and suffered. Patrick had slowly mended Ava’s heart after his brother Brian broke it, and now she had to reject him, no matter how difficult it was to do so. It was the best thing for everyone.

Ava heard the back door open and Patrick came in with her six-year-old son Timmy, both red-cheeked and stamping their snow-covered feet.

“Stay on the rug, please,” Ava said automatically, avoiding Patrick’s eyes when she joined them in the kitchen.

“Mom, Mom, Mom,” Timmy said. “Patrick wants to take me and Charlotte snow-tubing at Mrs. Crawford’s farm tonight. There’s going to be a fire and everything. Can we go? Please? Please? Please?”

Ava looked at Patrick, who was also giving her the “please, please” look that hurt her heart so.

“We’ll see,” she said, and both their faces fell. “Let’s see how cold it gets.”

“That means no,” Timmy told Patrick sadly.

“I know,” Patrick said, in the same tone.

“Go wash up, please,” Ava told Timmy. “Cricket and Tiffany will be here shortly and I need you to show them where everything is.”

“New recruits,” Timmy proudly told Patrick. “I have to show ‘em the ropes.”

The small boy ran off to the bathroom and Patrick tried to grab Ava around the waist.

“Stop it, Patrick, I mean it,” she said sharply, and he backed off with a hurt look on his face.

“You make me feel like a molester or something,” Patrick said. “How can I be this close to you and not touch you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. “It’s hard for me too, you know.”

Timmy came back in and Patrick swung him up in the air, making him squeal with laughter.

“Cricket and Tiffany?” Patrick asked him. “What kind of silly girl names are those?”

“Her real name’s Chrissy,” Timmy said, as Patrick sat him back on the floor, “but everyone calls her Cricket.”

“Well my real name’s Patrick, but no one calls me Caterpillar.”

Timmy giggled.

“And no one calls your mom Lady Bug.”

“You could call me, um, you could call me, Tickle Bug,” Timmy giggled.

The sleigh bells attached to the front door jingled and Ava said, “That’s enough now, Timmy. Say goodbye to Uncle Patrick, please.”

Timmy hugged Patrick.

“I love you, Uncle Patrick,” he said.

Ava immediately misted up, and Patrick looked at her as if to say, “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I love you too, Tickle Bug,” he said, and leaned down to kiss the top of the boy’s head.

Ava said briskly, “Thanks, Patrick,” and went to greet the new recruits.

After checking in at her bookstore Maggie met Hannah back at the bakery, where both their mothers and Aunt Delia were working hard, getting all the extra baked goods ready for the vending caravan. Hannah and Maggie spent the afternoon wrapping single servings of brownies, cookies, tarts, and turnovers in sticky plastic wrap, and packing them in boxes.

Scott came in at just past five o’clock, and Maggie gave him some fresh coffee and a couple doughnuts left over from the morning. Scott was adept at reading Maggie’s moods, and waited until she went to the backroom before asking Hannah what was up.