The House on Honeysuckle Lane (28 page)

C
HAPTER
54

“I
think the lunch went well today, don't you?” Anna Maria asked. She was wearing the nightgown Daniel liked best. It was a shade of pale green that made him think of lilies of the valley; he thought the gown made her look like a sprite in a spring fantasy.

“The blinis could have been a little thinner,” he told his wife as she climbed into the bed next to him, “but no one seemed to notice but me. At least, no one complained.”

“That's because they were delicious. There was nothing wrong with them, Daniel. You're just a perfectionist.”

Daniel shrugged. “It was a long way to travel for a gig, but the Sumner Group could become an important client for us. I'm glad Bob was able to help us all he did.”

“He's a dream. Oh, we were so busy—what with the gig and then the potluck—I never got to ask how your meeting with Emma and Andie went this morning.”

“It went well,” Daniel said honestly. “We decided to hire an auction house. Emma will talk to Morgan Shelby about it. But Andie still thinks we should loan Mom's Regency desk to the OWHA for a period of time.”

Anna Maria nodded. “Personally, I think it's a nice idea, but I'm not a Reynolds, so my opinion doesn't count.”

“You are a Reynolds!” Daniel protested. “And your opinion always matters to me. I love you, Anna Maria, more than anyone. How can I thank you for all you've done for me and my parents?”

“You can make that monkfish dish I love,” she said promptly. “The one with marsala wine.”

“Deal. Anna Maria? A few days ago Emma told me I was wrong to encourage Rumi's bad behavior toward her mother. She said I was interfering. I feel pretty foolish about it all,” Daniel admitted. “I really never wanted to cause trouble.”
Or did I?
he wondered. “Anyway, I suggested to Rumi at the festival that she try to treat her mother with more patience and kindness, but I'm not sure my suggestion was accepted.”

“Maybe you should say something to Andie, apologize or try to explain yourself.”

Daniel shook his head. “No. I don't want to make an even bigger deal of it. I think I should just watch my behavior going forward.”
Besides,
he thought,
how can I explain myself when I'm not even sure why I've been acting the way I have?

“Good. You know, I've been thinking about Emma, too. She seems . . . different. More herself than she's seemed in a long time, if that makes sense.”

“Maybe it's being done with Ian,” Daniel suggested. “Maybe it was the right decision, after all.”

“That's probably part of it,” Anna Maria agreed. “And maybe—now, don't jump down my throat about this—but maybe now that both Cliff and Caro are gone she's able to, I don't know, relax a bit. I always got the feeling that Emma was trying to impress them, always trying to prove herself to them. Cliff and Caro could be formidable. Nice, but . . . strong.”

“I know.” Daniel found himself sighing. “Kids needing to prove themselves to parents. I know it's something I suffer from, even now that Mom and Dad are gone.”

Anna Maria smiled. “None of this is news to me, but I'm glad you're talking about it.”

“But what about Andie?” he wondered. “It's like she set out to do exactly what might make Mom and Dad disappointed in her. Well, at least until she made it big and they finally had to take notice.”

“Andie did what she had to do. I don't see her as a person who set out to rebel for the sake of rebellion. In fact, if I understand your sister, and I think that I do—thanks to Bob, mostly—her marrying when she did was a rebellion against her true nature. And that's always the wrong thing to do.”

Daniel looked at his wife with a combination of wonder and love. “You're so much smarter than I am,” he said, leaning over to kiss her gently.

“About some things, yes,” Anna Maria replied readily. “But this isn't a competition, it's a marriage.”

“It's a good marriage, isn't it?” Daniel asked, and he could hear the slight note of worry in his voice.

“Yes,” Anna Maria said. “It is. I'm happy.”

“That makes two of us.” Daniel kissed his wife again and turned off his bedside lamp. He was a bit anxious about the memorial service the next morning. Would he break down? Would one of his sisters fail to show up? For a moment he wondered if he would actually be able to fall asleep. But then he felt Anna Maria take his hand in the dark and before he knew it his eyes were closing.

C
HAPTER
55

T
he next morning found the Reynolds siblings along with Anna Maria gathered at the Unitarian Universalist Church, from where Cliff and Caro had been buried, and where Andie herself had been married. As they pulled into the parking lot, Andie had a sudden, distinct memory of her wedding day, how nervous Bob had looked, wearing a suit bought specially for the occasion, a white carnation in his buttonhole. Her mother had looked so proud and content, satisfied that she had successfully steered her older daughter in the right direction. And her father, well, Andie believed he had simply been happy.

“You're a million miles away again,” Emma said, opening her door.

“I was visiting the past,” Andie told her. “It's been happening a lot since I've been back. I don't want to go there, but I do.”

The sisters approached the imposing brick building that had gone up over a century and a half earlier as a private girls' academy. After having been abandoned and left derelict for almost twenty years, it had finally been sold and converted to a mixed-use building; currently the church shared the space with a co-op of local artists. The sisters went inside and joined Daniel and Anna Maria. Daniel was wearing the suit he had worn at Caro's funeral. Andie usually didn't take notice of such things, but for some reason she remembered her brother's suit.

Reverend Fox greeted them, and when they had gathered around a small table on which had been placed three white candles, he said a prayer for Cliff and Caro Reynolds, as well as for the living members of the Reynolds family.

“I'll leave you alone now,” he said after the prayers, “as Daniel requested.” When his footsteps had died away, Daniel took the lighted taper from its holder and held it to the wick of one of the three white candles arranged in a row. Then he passed the taper to Emma, who lit the second candle and then handed the taper to Andie. When all three candles had been lit, their bright flames dancing in the relative darkness, Andie felt tears threaten.

“Emma,” Daniel said quietly. “Why don't you speak first?”

Emma took a piece of paper from her bag and unfolded it. “I know Mom and Dad liked this poem by Christina Rossetti,” she said, “so I thought I'd read it aloud, rather than come up with something of my own I know would be inadequate.” She began in a soft but clear voice to read. Then she stopped for a moment and said, “I know these lines were Dad's particular favorites.”

Andie recited the lines silently as her sister continued to read aloud. “ ‘Nay, weights and measurements do us both a wrong. / For verily love knows not ‘mine' or ‘thine,' / With separate ‘I' and ‘thou' free love has done, / For one is both and both are one in love. . . . ' ”

As Emma read through the final lines of the poem, Andie took her sister's hand.

“That was beautiful,” Daniel said, an unmistakable catch in his voice.

“Danny?” Emma said. “Why don't you speak next?”

Daniel nodded and folded his hands before him. “I loved and respected my parents,” he began, “and they truly deserved love and respect. They were the most wonderful people I've ever known. I just hope that when my time comes I'll be able to look back on my life and know that I lived up to their example.”

“I know that you will, Danny,” Emma said. “Andie?”

Andie cleared her throat. “I'd like to read a few words by the poet Rumi,” she said. “ ‘Good-byes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation.' And to those words,” she went on, her voice trembling slightly, “I'd like to add that I'm forever grateful to my parents for the gift of life.”

“Thanks, Andie. It's not as good as getting to say the eulogy,” Daniel said. “But I hope this ceremony made up for it somewhat.”

“Thank you, Danny,” Andie said gratefully. “It did.”

And Andie hoped that this ceremony would help her brother shrug off the tension and unhappiness he so obviously had been carrying. But she remembered his words—that he hoped to live up to the example set by their parents—and wondered if her brother would ever be entirely free of a crippling sense of duty.

“Let's go to their graves,” Daniel suggested then. He led the others out of the church and to the small private cemetery on the lot next to the church building, where Cliff and Caro Reynolds were buried side by side. Neither, Andie remembered, had ever entertained the notion of cremation. Her mother had thought it vaguely pagan. “The Vikings burned their dead,” she had said often enough. “I'm a Christian, not a Viking.” Come to think of it, Andie couldn't recall her father actually voicing an opinion on the subject. It was likely, she thought, that he had simply acceded to his wife's wishes for an in-ground burial.

The family stood in a half circle around the two marble headstones. Neither Cliff nor Caro had opted for a quote, just the dates they had been born and had died and the simple inscription L
OVING
H
USBAND AND
F
ATHER,
L
OVING
W
IFE AND
M
OTHER.
There was a certain dignity to the stones, Andie thought. She planned to be cremated when she passed and had left instructions for her ashes to be scattered to the winds, but she had no trouble understanding the very real need many people had for a physical memorial to their lives.
My name was Cliff and I was here. My name was Caro and I, too, lived in this world.

Daniel brushed a leaf off the top of his father's stone. “I come here once a month,” he said. “It's always well tended, but I like to be sure.”

“Do you talk to them, Danny?” Emma asked.

“Not when I'm here, no. I suppose that's odd, because I do sometimes find myself talking to them, like when I'm watching one of Dad's favorite movies or when I'm making a dish Mom used to ask for. I find myself saying things like, ‘This is the part you liked, Dad,' and ‘Do you think the sauce came out a bit too thick, Mom?' ” Daniel smiled. “Half the time I think I hear them answer.”

“What about you, Andie?” Emma asked.

“I talk to Dad sometimes,” Andie said. “I ask him questions about important things going on in my life. That's definitely odd, because when he was alive I rarely, if ever, went to him for advice or input.”

Anna Maria, silent until now, said, “Do you hear him reply? Do you feel he hears you?”

Andie smiled. “Most times, yes.”

“So, what about you, Emma?” Daniel asked. “Do you ever talk to Mom or Dad?”

“No. I think about them, sure. But I don't talk to them. I guess I don't feel the need to.”

But I do,
Andie thought.
Dad,
she said,
I've done something wrong. Not evil, not even irreparable, but misguided. The burden is weighing terribly on me and yet I can't seem to take the steps to throw it off.

But this time, Andie couldn't hear her father's voice in reply. Perhaps it wasn't there to be heard.

“We have to get going,” Daniel said abruptly. “We've got a lunch gig at one. We'll see you at the house this evening.” And with a wave, he and Anna Maria went off.

Silently the two sisters walked back to Emma's car. “You okay?” Emma asked as the sisters buckled themselves in.

Andie made it a point to speak truthfully, but she couldn't quite bring herself to tell Emma just how miserable and fraudulent she felt. “I'm fine,” she said. “Just fine.”

C
HAPTER
56

E
mma picked up her phone from where it sat on the kitchen counter. “It's Morgan Shelby,” she told her sister. “I won't be a moment.”

Morgan was calling to tell her that he had found what he thought was a suitable auction house in Westminster. “It's called R. W. Simons,” he said. “I could make an appointment for you to meet with them, if you like. And I could come with. Just remember to bring along a copy of the inventory your brother put together and any additional information on items you might have unearthed.”

“Thanks, Morgan,” Emma said. “That would be great. I have no experience at all with auction houses. Having an expert along will lessen the anxiety.”

Morgan promised to let her know the date and time of their appointment, and Emma ended the call.

“Morgan found an auction house for us,” Emma told her sister, who was sitting at the kitchen table, her shoulders drooping. When Andie didn't respond, Emma asked, “Andie? Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes,” she replied. “An auction house. Good.”

“Is there something else worrying you besides the situation with Rumi?” Emma asked gently. “You seem a bit preoccupied these past few days. A bit weary.”

Andie smiled and sat up straighter in her chair. “No, I'm fine. I was just thinking about this morning's service.”

“It was nice, wasn't it? I'm glad Danny organized it. It actually felt kind of healing. Funny, I hadn't even realized I needed healing.”

“We all need healing,” Andie said. And then, more quietly, she added, “Some of us more than others.”

Emma let her sister's comment pass. She didn't believe for a moment that Andie's mind was troubled by her daughter's mood alone, but she had never been one to push for a confession. “I suppose we should get started organizing things for tonight,” she said. “Gathering all the photo albums and videos Danny's so eager for us to see. We'll have to divvy it all up when the house is sold unless one of us wants to be the archivist and hold on to the entire lot.”
And if I decide to buy the house,
she thought,
it could all stay just where it is.

“And we should start getting dinner ready.” Andie got up from the kitchen table and went to the fridge. “Daniel seemed a little dubious when you suggested we just eat leftovers.”

Emma laughed. “What's he worried about? He made most of the food! All we're doing is heating what needs to be heated.”

“You know Danny,” Andie said. “He needs to be in charge.”

“Poor guy. It must really wear him down sometimes.”

“Yes, but it might be a good thing in terms of his business,” Andie commented with a wry smile. “Unless he drives Anna Maria and the staff up the wall with his perfectionism.”

“I hope not. How about we eat dinner in the kitchen and then afterward we can go into the living room to watch the videos on the big screen TV.”

“Sounds good.” Andie opened a plastic container that held a good portion of ratatouille. “For some reason, I have absolutely no appetite. Oh, well.” Andie put the lid back on the container and set it on the counter. “Maybe I'll drop a pound or two. Mom would be pleased.”

Emma turned away to take plates off a shelf over the microwave.
No doubt about it,
she thought worriedly.
Something big is bothering my sister.