The Guest List (12 page)

Bunny reacted to the concern on her friend’s face. “If it had been your sister, Abby, every male in the restaurant would have stopped chowing down. Ditto for all these people milling about outside. She’s a showstopper. It was probably just someone who resembled her, that’s all. As for your family, I’d say they are more or less finished and just dawdling over their coffee. They both
acted
like they really like Connor. Maybe
acted
is the wrong word. I think they do like him.”

“I hope so. Too bad if they don’t,” Abby said smartly.

“Hey, I gotta go. I still have some stuff to pack.”

“We’ll stay in touch, won’t we, Bunny?” Abby asked, worry etching her features.

Bunny smiled reassuringly. “You can count on it. You’re my best friend in the whole wide world. And listen, don’t worry about Connor. He’s a big boy, and he has a real good head on his shoulders. If he does go to Saudi—Well, you know what they say—absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that.”

“I know, I know.”

“Come on, your family is waiting for you, and I have to go. God, it’s going to be weird without you. I want you to know I’m going to work very hard at keeping in touch with you, and you have to promise to do the same. I expect to be able to call you at three in the morning if I’m having problems or even if I just need to talk, okay?” At Abby’s nod, she continued. “We were so lucky to find each other. Think about it, Abby, four years and we never had one serious disagreement.”

Abby managed a tremulous smile. “I know. I think we’re both blessed. As soon as you get settled and get a phone, call Carol and leave your number, or give it to Connor and he’ll
get to me. It’s going to take a week or so for me to get all set up. Once we’re all organized, we can e-mail.”

“Will do.”

“Bye, Bunny. I’ll see you at Christmas.” Abby waved her friend away.

“Ah, here you are,” Donovan said as he pocketed his credit card. “Did Connor get off all right?”

“Yes. And now Bunny’s gone, too.” Abby heaved a sigh. “God, I’m going to miss everybody.”

“You’ll all be together in just a few months.” Donovan checked his watch. “Hey, you’d better get going if you want to put some miles behind you today. Remember to call us on our cell phone when you stop for the night. Carol said we’d be home by seven. Are you sure you have enough money for gas and everything?”

Abby thought about the sizable check in her purse. If there was ever a time to mention it, this was it. But she’d promised not to. “I have enough, and I promise to call.” Bobby and Carol came outside to join them. “Okay, sport, pucker up,” Abby said to Bobby.

“I think I just saw Mallory,” Bobby whispered. “She winked at me and put her finger to her lips.”

Abby shivered in the bright sunshine. So she wasn’t imagining things after all. She forced a smile that was more a grimace than anything else. “I thought I saw her, too,” she whispered back.

She turned from Bobby and faced her adoptive parents. For the first time in her life, she couldn’t wait to say good-bye to them.

Carol’s voice turned suddenly shy. “I hope you like how I decorated your house, honey. I tried to picture you in each of the rooms and used all the colors you like. I even took some things from your room at home and placed them around. And I want you to know that you won’t hurt my feelings one bit if
you change things. It’s your house to do with as you please. Donovan and I just want you to enjoy it.”

“There’s even a room for me,” Bobby piped up. “Mom said I can visit you this summer if you want me.”

“Of course I want you. Come and stay as long as you like.” Abby dug into her purse for her car keys. “Well, this is it,” she announced, her jaw tight. “The first day of my new adult life.” She clutched her keys to her chest. “I don’t know how to thank you both for everything you’re done for me all these years. Just saying the words doesn’t seem adequate.”

“It’ll do,” Donovan said gruffly. “By the way, I like that young man of yours. He’s got ambition. I like that.” Abby felt her cheeks puff out at the compliment.

“Drive carefully, honey,” Carol said, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Don’t pick up any hunks on the way,” Bobby said.

“Bye,” Abby said, climbing into the Jeep.

Two days later, Abby crossed the Tennessee state line just as it grew dark. The Holiday Inn looked new and clean. She lugged her overnight bag from the cargo area and headed for the office. She looked forward to washing her hair and taking a nice hot shower. If she went to bed early, got up around five, and drove all day, she might make her new home by tomorrow afternoon. First things first, though. She reached for the phone the moment she bolted the door.

“Hi, Carol. It’s me. I’m in Tennessee. Did you have a good flight home?”

“Abby. I don’t—Oh, Abby,” Carol said, tearfully. “I don’t know how to tell you this.”

“Carol, what’s wrong? Stop crying and tell me. What’s happened?”

“It’s Connor. He’s dead, Abby.”

“Dead!” Abby’s legs gave out, and she sat down on the
edge of the bed. “What do you mean, he’s dead? What are you talking about? Please, Carol, what happened? Tell me what happened,” she screamed.

Suddenly Donovan’s voice replaced Carol’s. “Abby, Princess—”

“What happened? What happened to Connor? Tell me, Donovan!”

“We’re not exactly sure. Connor’s brother called not fifteen minutes ago looking for you, and said Connor collapsed in a cab on his way to the airport in Wisconsin. By the time the cab driver got him to a hospital he was dead. It’s all we know right now. Connor’s brother left a number for you to call him. Do you have a pencil and paper?”

Abby grabbed for the hotel pad and pen. “Yes. Read it to me,” she said hoarsely.

“Will you call us when you know something more?”

“This has got to be a mistake of some kind,” Abby said. “I’ll get back to you.” She started to hang up, then put the receiver back to her mouth. “Pray it isn’t true, Donovan. Okay?”

“We’ll all pray, Princess.”

Abby broke the connection and stared at the phone. Connor couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t be. They were going to get married and have four children. Connor was going to write a Pulitzer Prize-winning article, and she was going to be his famous mystery-writing wife. Connor was supposed to go to Saudi Arabia.

It had to be a mistake. Or a prank.

Her shoulders stiff, her eyes dry, she carefully dialed the number in front of her. When a voice said hello, she said, “This is Abby Mitchell. Could I please speak to Dennis?”

Abby stood in the driveway, tears streaming down her cheeks. She waved good-bye to her family. She couldn’t imagine what she would have done without them this last week. They’d taken care of all the arrangements, bought the plane tickets for all of them and Bunny, too, to fly to Oregon, arranged a hotel, and sent flowers to the funeral home. They’d showered her with love and understanding. Now they were gone, with only Bunny staying behind. She felt herself clench her teeth wondering if the old saying, grit your teeth until they crack, was something that could really happen. Like she cared one way or the other.

Weary to the point of collapse, Abby leaned on Bunny. The path into the house seemed miles long. She wondered if she would make it.

“Abby, I know you don’t want to hear this or even believe it, but in time everything will be all right,” Bunny said.

“No, Bunny, time will not make everything all right. Connor’s gone. Forever.” Abby closed her eyes as a wave of pain washed over her. “He never told me he had a heart problem—
that he’d had rheumatic fever when he was little. He never said one word. Why wouldn’t he tell me something like that, Bunny? Why?”

Bunny shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know, Abby. Maybe it’s one of those guy things. They think they have to be physically fit, macho, that kind of thing. If you believe in God, and I know you do, then you have to understand it was Connor’s time. It’s that simple.” She rested the side of her head against Abby’s. “By the way, your eulogy was wonderful. Everyone said so. I don’t know how you got through it.”

She didn’t either, but she’d done it because she didn’t want anyone else doing it. She didn’t want someone she didn’t know saying generic things about the man she loved. She’d wanted the words to mean something, to let people know what a really wonderful man Connor Bradford was and how much she’d loved him.

“Oh, Bunny,” she said, her voice breaking, “I don’t know how I’m going to go on without him. I loved him so much. He was my world.”

Bunny closed her eyes for a second. “One day at a time, Abby. One day at a time.”

Hand in hand they went into the house and headed for the kitchen. Bunny sat down at the table, and Abby opened the fridge and looked inside. “I’ll make you some lunch and then take you to the airport. Did I tell you how grateful I am to you for going with me? Starting a new job and then leaving the second day can’t be good for your career.”

“They were very understanding. I wish I could stay longer, but I’m afraid if I do, I’ll be testing the limits of their understanding. I’m surprised Carol didn’t insist on staying with you.”

“She did, but I was more insistent that she leave. She would have smothered me, Bunny. You know how she is. She thinks she always knows what’s best. I need to be alone now. I have to handle this in my own way, and I still have a lot of crying to do. The library is holding my job open. But to tell you the
truth, I don’t know if I want the job anymore. I’ve been thinking about staying home and writing full-time.” Abby took packages of ham and cheese out of the deli drawer and laid them on the counter.

“Don’t make any rash decisions right now. Think things through before you act. You’re hurting. Work is probably the best thing in the world for you.”

Abby whirled around and leaned her hip against the cabinet. She felt so lost, so empty. “What am I going to do, Bunny?”

“You’re going to pull up your socks, stiffen your backbone, and say, ‘I can get through this. I
will
get through this.’” Lowering her voice, Bunny continued, “I’ll always be there for you, just a phone call away. You’re my friend. This is what friends do for each other. Come on, you said you were going to make me lunch, and I’m hungry.”

Abby composed herself. There would be time enough for all her questions later. A lifetime of time. “I did say that, didn’t I?” she said, trying to sound brave.

Bunny glanced around the kitchen. “By the way, I didn’t get a chance to tell you before, but this is quite a house. Oh! Before I forget, your housewarming present is coming later this afternoon. I’ll call you tonight to see how you like it. Make sure you answer your phone.”

“Give me a hint,” Abby said, slapping three slices of ham and two slices of Swiss cheese on top of a sourdough roll. “Mayo or mustard?”

“Both.”

“Come on, tell me what the present is,” Abby cajoled. “Do your wear it, eat it, use it, or just look at it?”

“No hints. It’s a surprise,” Bunny said, watching Abby spread a huge glob of mayo on the other side of the roll. “But I will tell you this,” she teased. “It’ll fit right in with this house.” Before Abby could pose another question, Bunny changed the subject. “I can’t believe Carol and Donovan furnished
this place for you. I hate to ask, but is it decorated to
your
taste?”

Abby put the sandwich on a plate and looked for some chips to go with it. “You know what, Bunny? I was only here overnight before we left for Oregon. I really didn’t look at anything, so I don’t know.” She looked up at the pot rack over the island. It was loaded with copper-bottomed pans. “I haven’t even been in all the rooms. I’ll check it out later when I’m up to it. The truth is, I was kind of hoping for a little bungalow or a cottage kind of house. You know, something cozy with a real fireplace for those cold, wintry days? Instead, I get a monster house.” She waved a hand in disdain. “It must be three or four thousand square feet. This should be Mallory’s house, not mine. She likes things overblown, if you know what I mean.” Abby carried the plate and a can of soda over to the table and set it in front of Bunny, then sat down across from her. “Speaking of Mallory, I wonder where she is and what she’s doing. I keep seeing her everywhere I look. Remember last week at our breakfast good-bye? I really did catch a glimpse of her in the restaurant. Bobby confirmed it later when he said he saw her, too. And then I saw her, or thought I saw her, standing behind a tree at Connor’s funeral. I don’t get it. Maybe I was overwrought. No maybes about it; I was and still am.”

“I don’t get it either. If she was at the breakfast good-bye, then she lied to us the day before when she said she had an evening flight to catch. What do you suppose would be the point of her watching you?”

“I can’t imagine unless …” Abby felt the color drain from her face as she stared at Bunny’s untouched sandwich. She didn’t like the first thought that came to mind—that Mallory might want to do her harm. She remembered Connor saying Mallory had the saddest eyes he’d ever seen. Sad because … because she’d grown up in an institution, unloved and unwanted? Because she hadn’t had the advantages Abby had? Yes, she could be sad for both those reasons and probably a
few more. But it wasn’t Abby’s fault, and Mallory knew it.
No
, she thought, dismissing the troublesome idea.
Mallory has changed. She isn’t mean and hateful anymore.

“Abby, what are you thinking?”

“Nothing. I was just letting my writer’s imagination get away with me. Do you think I’m teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown, Bunny?” Abby asked fearfully.

“I don’t think any such thing, and you need to stop talking like that. Plain and simple, you’re dog-tired. You haven’t slept more than a few hours in five whole days. You had just come off that long car trip home from school and then emotionally you got wiped out. What you need is a hot bath, a good stiff drink, and bed. But not until after you take me to the airport and your housewarming present gets here,” she qualified.

Abby stared blankly at Bunny as she ate her sandwich. “You know, now that I think about it, I should have insisted on talking to the doctor who admitted Connor to the hospital.”

“What?”

Abby shook her head in dismissal. “Oh, I was just thinking. I wish Dennis had authorized an autopsy. I just can’t believe Connor had a heart attack. He was too young.”

“It happens more often than you realize. Remember that ice skater? And the basketball player? You just have to accept it.” Bunny looked at her watch. “Come on. I gotta go.” She scooted her chair back. “Be sure to come right home after you drop me off. Don’t go to the store or anything.”

“The store? Are you kidding? Carol filled my refrigerator and freezer to the gills. She told me there’s even an extra refrigerator in the garage that’s full of soda, beer, juice, and all kinds of stuff. I could hole up here for months and never stick my nose outside the door. On top of that, she said I have a newspaper delivery, a real honest-to-God milkman, bottled-water delivery, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Sometimes I feel like Carol has complete control over my life. Then I feel
ashamed because I know how much she loves me. It’s the excess that bothers me. I don’t need all this.”

Bunny took her plate and empty soda can over to the sink. “Throw it all out and start over. It will give you something to occupy your mind,” she said cheerfully.

“I can’t do that. It would be wasteful.”

“Then stop bitching and moaning. Is there anything I can do for you before I leave?”

Abby nodded. “A hug would be nice. Bunny?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t say anything before, but did you happen to see Mallory at the funeral?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t.” Bunny took Abby by the shoulders. “If you did see her, then she probably meant for you to see her. And in that case, I think she wanted you to know she was there for you.”

Abby quirked an eyebrow. “But why not go with me, stand with me, be with me?”

Bunny rolled her eyes. “You’re not thinking. Carol and Donovan are why. She didn’t show herself to them at our graduation either. Remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.” She was going to ask about the break-fast good-bye, then thought better of it. Rather than all this speculation, she should just call Mallory and ask her point-blank, except she didn’t have a phone number for her sister as yet.

“The Abby Mitchell I know and love will sort it all out. That’s something else you can do to keep your mind busy. C’mon, we need to get this show on the road.”

Abby hugged her friend. “From the day I met you, you’ve been my port in every storm I’ve gone through. I want to thank you for being my friend, Bunny.”

“God, you’re going all mushy on me. Move, girl. I need to get to the airport.”

Abby pressed the remote for the automatic garage-door opener. She sat in the Jeep for a long time, wondering if she had the energy to get out and walk into the house. Keep your mind busy, Bunny had said. Rest and read a book, Carol said. Drink some hot tea and take a nap, Donovan said. As if any of their remedies would make the pain go away.

Abby turned the security bolt on the door that led to the kitchen. She sniffed at the new paint and carpet. Everything in her state-of-the-art kitchen gleamed and sparkled, thanks to Carol. Even the green plants nestled in the corners of the counters had a waxy shine that came from a bottle. Nothing but the best, the top of the line, she thought, wondering why she felt so irritable. Did she really need double ovens when she couldn’t even cook? Did she really need a forty-two-inch-wide Sub-Zero refrigerator?

Everything was green and yellow. The ceramic bowl of short-stemmed yellow roses drew her eye. They were just too damn perfect with their baby’s breath and lacy green fern. In the blink of an eye, Abby whisked the bowl off the table and carried it to the garage, but when she looked at the glass-topped table it looked bare and naked. The whole look of the kitchen had suddenly changed. How could one bowl of roses do something like that? Abby walked back to the garage to bring the green bowl with the yellow roses back to the table.

Get on with it, Abby,
she told herself.
Go through the rooms so when Carol calls you can goo and gush over her decorating.

The great room was a work of art, its focal point being a monstrous fieldstone fireplace with raised hearth and wood-storage inset—complete with stacks of perfectly shaped birch logs. The mantel was old and intricately carved. On it were displayed family pictures, even one of Connor sitting next to Bobby on a bench outside a restaurant.

Move on, Abby, move on.

Deep comfortable chairs, the kind two people could curl up in, dotted the four corners of the room, with little tables full of mementos she’d had in her bedroom at Carol and Donovan’s house. They didn’t make the room better or worse. It was just a room with white walls and gay watercolor paintings on every inch of wall space. A sixty-inch television sat in a white cabinet with louvered doors. Next to it was an elaborate built-in surround-sound system. Misty green vertical blinds covered the French doors that led to the patio and pool area. She looked down to see that the blinds matched the ceramic tile on the floor, right down to the sea-green grout. The room was so put-together—so controlled. It made Abby cringe.

The living room was formal and done in soft mint green with touches of brilliant yellow. Exquisite draperies that matched the stiff-looking furniture were pulled back from the bow window and allowed for a view of her immaculate manicured lawn and shrubs. Connor would have hated the room. In fact, Connor would have hated the whole house. His first question would be where was he going to prop his size thirteen sneakers for his daily beer. Once again she looked downward. Who in her right mind would install white carpeting?

Abby sighed as she meandered into the dining room to look at the long expanse of table with eight chairs. Who was going to sit at this long table and eat? She didn’t have eight friends. And even if she did, she didn’t know how to cook.

White carpeting there, too.

Abby continued down a short hallway, opening and closing doors. The linen closet was fully stocked with sheets, towels, bathroom essentials, and a new Water Pik still in its box. She counted twelve boxes of Crest toothpaste and six new toothbrushes still in their cardboard wrappers. The second and third doors led to walk-in closets with shelves for shoes, purses, luggage, and racks and racks for clothes. The only thing missing was a conveyor belt. The last door off the short hallway was an office with its own bathroom and minikitchen. Elaborate
was hardly the right word. A state-of-the-art computer sat in the middle of a custom-built desk with yards and yards of space. Everything looked to be geometrically aligned. Did she dare move anything?