The Sugarhouse Blues Page 12

  “Sure.” She reached around the dog to raise the window.

  The truck started with a rumble and a little shimmy, but once it got moving, the engine settled down and the shimmy disappeared. Seth paused at the end of the driveway and looked both ways before pulling onto the road. When he shifted the gears, the heel of his hand hit Des’s leg.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “It’s okay. I’m in the way.” She tried to swing her legs a bit to the right, but the dog was there.

  Seth shifted into third, then fourth, his hand almost on her knee.

  “Sorry,” he said again. “I don’t mean to . . .”

  “No, it’s okay. I’m in your way. I’d move, but Ripley’s right here.”

  Every time his hand touched her leg, she felt that little jolt again.

  Stop it, she silently instructed whatever was causing her to feel his touch so acutely.

  She watched out the window as they passed another farm, then another, as they drove toward the center of town. They passed the police station and the Bullfrog Inn, the local watering hole on the left, and the library and the Sugarhouse on the right.

  “Shifting into third, giving you a heads-up.” Seth rounded the corner onto Hudson Street and she swung her legs to the right. “And second,” as he pulled in front of the Hudsons’ house.

  “And first into neutral,” she said.

  “You drive stick?”

  “Sure. Thanks for the ride. And the photos. Get back, Ripley.” She reached across the dog for the door handle. “Oh, and thanks for the shirt. I will get it back to you.”

  “You’re welcome whenever. Bring Buttons next time.”

  “I’ll do that. And I will invest in Willow Lane Vineyards, Seth. No matter where I am.”

  Seth nodded, holding on to Ripley’s collar while Des let herself out. She stood on the sidewalk until he drove off.

  Tossing her sweater over one shoulder, she walked across the lawn to the front porch and went inside. Voices drifted in through the open kitchen windows from the backyard. She peered through the window and saw Allie and Cara sitting on the patio talking to Barney. Des went upstairs and peeled off the dirty, hot black pants and pulled on a pair of white shorts. She slipped into a pair of sandals and grabbed the envelope from her bag, then went downstairs and outside to where her family sat chatting on the tree-shaded patio.

  “There you are. I was getting ready to call Ben and ask him to put out an APB on you.” Barney sat on a rocking chair with green-and-white-striped webbing that formed the seat and the back. Buttons sat under a nearby chair and wagged her tail, but didn’t bother to get up.

  Des related her walk to Seth’s farm to pick up the photos.

  “That’s not your shirt.” Leave it to Allie to notice.

  “It belongs to Seth’s sister.”

  “Why are you wearing it?” Allie continued to prod, a little gleam in her eyes.

  “Because by the time I got out there, I was dying from the heat.”

  “So how’d he get you to take off your sweater?” Allie was still smirking.

  “He took pity on me and gave me this shirt. I changed in the powder room.” She leaned toward Allie and said with a smile, “Seth has central air.”

  “Oh my God, did he say go home at once and bring back your entire family to wait out this heat wave?” Allie clutched at Des’s hand.

  “No, he did not. But I must say, it was lovely.” Des leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “Now I’m exhausted. But that little bit of breeze from the woods feels good.”

  “It’s why we’re out here. Honestly, if I thought for one minute that this week’s weather portended the entire summer, I would seriously think about air-conditioning this place.” Barney tilted her head to look up at the back of the house. “It’s such a monster, though. I don’t think it would be an easy or inexpensive job. I should ask Joe what he thinks.”

  “He’ll be over after dinner,” Cara said. “You can ask him to take a look around before we go out.”

  “Let me guess.” Allie turned to gaze at her. “You’re going to go to the movies in that new triplex ten miles down the road, then you’re going to go out to the lake and make out like a couple of sixteen-year-olds. After which time you’ll go back to his house and have hot monkey sex.”

  “Jealous?” Cara raised an eyebrow.

  “Pfft.” Allie pretended to dismiss the idea.

  “I’m jealous,” Des said.

  “I would be, too, if Joe wasn’t like a grandson to me,” Barney added. “When I was younger, he was exactly the sort of guy I went for.”

  “Did Gil look like Joe?” Cara asked.

  “He was built like him, but that’s the only similarity,” Barney replied.

  “Well, that would make him pretty hot,” Cara said. “Joe’s pretty fine.”

  “Speaking of hot guys . . .” Allie turned to Des. “How ’bout that cutie you were showing around the theater this morning?”

  “What cutie?” Barney and Cara both said at the same time.

  “Greg Weller.”

  Allie turned to Cara and Barney. “He said he’d like to continue their conversation over dinner. And he’d call her.”

  “Allie, you were eavesdropping?” Cara pretended to be shocked.

  “He said it right in front of me.” Allie looked over at Des and said, “He really is cute, and he seemed very nice, and he was definitely interested. And very much your type. Not mine, of course, but yours, certainly.”

  “Sophisticated?” Cara asked.

  “From what I could tell, more so than not,” Des replied. “But in a good way.”

  “Obviously academic,” Cara said.

  Des nodded. “Obviously.”

  “No ink?” Cara continued.

  “None that I could see.” As opposed to the sleeves that spread up Seth’s forearms to his biceps. She’d taken a few peeks, but wasn’t able to discern exactly what those images were supposed to be.

  “Cigars?”

  “Didn’t get a whiff of one.” Unlike the cab of Seth’s car.

  “Definitely, by definition, your type,” Cara concluded. “And Allie says he’s a cutie.”

  “He’s very cute. Boyishly cute.”

  “There you go. A match made in heaven.” Allie stood. “Or at the very least, in the Sugarhouse.” She started toward the house. “I’m getting something to drink. Anyone?”

  They all opted for ice water. Cara went inside with Allie to help carry everyone’s drinks.

  “So what else do we know about your cute professor?” Barney moved her chair farther into the shade.

  “Other than the fact that he isn’t my professor and that his name is Greg Weller?” Des thought for a second. “I guess all I really know is that he seems like a really nice person. And smart. He’s interested in the history of the theater. Oh, and he asked me if I knew who the architect was who designed the building and who the artist was who did the decorative painting. Do you know?”

  Barney shook her head. “There’s probably something in one of the file cabinets in the office, though. My grandfather never threw out anything. You’re welcome to look.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” Barney fell silent, and for a moment, Des thought she might have dozed off. But then she asked, “What did Cara mean when she asked if your professor was ‘inked’?”

  “She meant did he have tattoos.”

  “And the reference to the cigar?”

  Des shrugged. “I mentioned once that I don’t like the smell of them.”

  “I see.”

  I have the feeling you do, Des thought.

  Her heart sank just a bit. Obviously Barney’d connected the dots and figured out who Cara was comparing Greg to. She was well aware that Seth was a favorite of Barney’s. Des felt just a little embarrassed at having been caught putting Seth in an unfavorable light.

  “I’m going to go take a shower. I’m still dusty.” Des rose and started toward the
house.

  “Appearances are deceiving sometimes, Des.” Barney rested her head on the back of her chair, her eyes closed.

  Des wanted to respond, but somehow the only retort that came to mind was the tired I know that. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

  Why start something when you’re not going to be around to follow through? she thought as she climbed the stairs to the second floor. How uncomfortable might that be when she came back to visit Barney and ran into Seth?

  Then again, if their relationship never went beyond friendship, she’d feel free to visit him at the farm without apology. She could take Buttons out to play with Ripley. She could watch him transform that run-down property into a beautiful oasis, and there was no doubt in her mind that he’d do exactly that. She could make that investment, and over the years watch his vineyard grow into a successful winery.

  To Des’s mind, the bottom line was that a friend could be kept in your life forever, in ways an ex-lover never could. One very good reason to rethink her offer to buy into Seth’s vineyard.

  One more reason, a little voice inside her whispered, reminding her that lately she’d been coming up with any number of reasons to keep Seth strictly in the friend zone. Maybe, the voice whispered, it’s time to figure out if they were reasons, or excuses.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The kitchen makeover was almost complete. There was a bit more woodwork to paint, and Cara had decided the window seat should have new cushions to match the room’s pretty new décor. The sisters had taken Barney to a fabric store to select something bright and pretty, and while there, got the name of a woman who could sew the cushions for them.

  “The window seat is going to be the coziest place in the house,” Des told Barney on the way home.

  “I love that yellow, white, and light blue fabric. I think it’s going to look smashing. I can’t thank you girls enough for thinking of this project, especially since you have the theater to deal with.” Barney was beaming. “I can’t wait to get new pull shades on the windows. And maybe hang up some pictures on the walls. Something pretty, I’m thinking.”

  “Maybe some photos of the theater,” Des suggested.

  “Or maybe an old movie poster or two,” Cara added.

  “Which brings me to ask, Des, did you hear back from that dealer in Las Vegas you were going to contact?” Allie asked.

  “Not yet. I’m wondering if he isn’t maybe looking for a buyer before he makes an offer.”

  The thought had occurred to Des that the dealer she’d contacted might do just that. She didn’t care either way, if in the end he made a big, fat offer. How many original posters could still be around for Possessed, with a young Clark Gable and Joan Crawford as the leads? Or the original Frankenstein with Boris Karloff, or Dracula with Bela Lugosi? Either old movie buffs or collectors of horror movie memorabilia would be interested in those.

  “Honestly, I have to admit that when this whole thing started, I thought it sounded like something we could accomplish in six months, maybe a little more. I mean, we had a million dollars to spend, right?”

  “Yeah, who’d have imagined the money would go so quickly?” Allie sighed.

  “Or that we’d get reasonably close to the end, only to have the roof fall in on us.” Des paused. “Well, more or less.”

  “Or that we’d be having to repair that glorious ceiling. Or we would be, if we could find someone qualified to do it.” Cara’s sigh echoed Allie’s.

  “How’s that search for repair people going, Cara?” Des asked.

  “Three steps forward, two steps back,” Cara replied. “I called a dozen historic theaters and got a dozen different names of artisans who worked on them. I call these restoration specialists and I realize none of the other theaters have had the type of damage we’ve had. Damaged ceilings, yes. The type of decorative painting needing repair, no. Plus the fees they charge just to come and take a look are astronomical. I’m not giving up—I know we’ll find the right people—but it’s disheartening. Everyone I call seems to be out of our league.”

  “Maybe someone at the cocktail party this weekend will have some recommendations for us,” Barney said. “At least, I’m hoping someone will.”

  “Right now, I’m going to be completely shallow and fess up that I’m thinking about that cocktail party because I honestly don’t have a thing to wear. Joe and I are going out to dinner after, and I want to look really nice,” Cara said as she turned into the driveway.

  “I think you want to go beyond nice, Cara. I think maybe you want to wow.” Allie waited until Barney got out of the front passenger side before climbing out of the back seat. “I say we put all this doom and gloom, waaaa, we’re running out of money and the ceiling’s peeling off stuff aside and go shopping. Online. All in favor—”

  It was a unanimous “aye.”

  “I’ll meet you all in our lovely, newly redecorated, almost completed kitchen.” Allie took off for the back door, house key in hand.

  * * *

  “I like that black one, but it doesn’t come in my size.” Allie pointed to the image of the short sleeveless dress on Cara’s laptop, which was open on the kitchen table.

  Des leaned over Allie’s shoulder. “It’s pretty. Simple but lovely. Oh, but it comes in mine.”

  “Figures,” Allie muttered.

  Cara turned the digital page. “Allie, maybe this one. It’s more your style anyway, don’t you think?”

  Allie studied the screen. “Could be a contender. Go back to the main page where all the dresses are.”

  “I can’t get used to this idea of buying clothes online.” Barney had poured a cup of coffee and slipped onto the window seat. “In my day, we went into Clarks Summit or Scranton to shop for school clothes and dressy things. A trip into John Wanamaker’s in Philly or Lord & Taylor in New York for special occasions. We’d never consider buying something we hadn’t tried on to wear for an important event.”

  “The times they are a-changing,” Cara sang. “So what are you going to wear to the cocktail party, Barney?”

  “Oh, I’m sure I have something. I haven’t really thought about it.”

  Cara looked up from the screen. “I guess it would help us to know how dressy these things really are.”

  “Yeah, a cocktail party out here in the boonies probably isn’t the same as a cocktail party in L.A.” Allie reached around Cara to move to the next page of dresses.

  “Allie, are you assuming that we ‘out here in the boonies’ don’t know how to dress, or that we don’t know how to throw a proper cocktail party?”

  “Maybe a little of both.” Allie grinned without embarrassment. “Not meant as an insult, Barney. Just that I don’t think things around here are as formal. In L.A., people wear lots of glitz. How much glitz can we expect to see at Saturday’s shindig at Althea College?”

  “Oh, probably none, unless you’re wearing it,” Barney conceded. “Generally, we don’t dress up to quite that extent, but don’t let that stop you if you’re in the mood to sparkle.”

  “I’m always in the mood to sparkle.”

  “Not lately, you haven’t been.” Des pointed to a blue sleeveless dress on the screen. “That would be terrific on you, Cara.”

  “What do you mean, lately I haven’t?” Allie tapped Des on the arm.

  “Just that you’ve been sort of sullen and cranky.” Des shrugged. “Tough to sparkle when you’re cranky.”

  “What are you talking about? I have not been cranky.”

  Allie’s sigh was exasperation touched with annoyance.

  “I have a lot on my mind, okay?” Her face slightly red, she turned her attention back to the screen. “Click on that teal number on the end there, please.”

  Cara clicked and the requested dress appeared.

  “That might be too low cut for the college faculty,” Cara said when Allie started to scroll through the available sizes.

  “Am I the only one who thinks it whispers, ‘Do me’?” Des asked.r />
  “Really?” Allie looked up.

  Des and Cara both nodded.

  “Oh, well, then, forget that one. No one around here I’m interested in doing.” Allie closed the screen and moved on to the next.

  “The party isn’t just for faculty,” Barney said. “It’s for alums, benefactors, former faculty. It’s a fund-raiser, so they try to include as many people as they can.”

  “That one’s too low, too.” Des pointed to the hot pink dress on the current screen.

  “I bet it wouldn’t be too low with that emerald necklace Althea is wearing in the portrait in the front hall. With those beauties around your neck—cleavage? What cleavage?” Allie barely looked up from the page. “If we could find it, that is. I’d need shoes to go with this. Strappy sandals with four-inch heels.”

  “Your shoes can wait. Cara and I need to find something to wear, too. So buy the dress or don’t, but stop monopolizing the computer.”

  “Even if we ever found that necklace, we’d end up fighting over it,” Cara noted.

  “No, Barney said finders, keepers, right, Barney?” Allie stepped away from the table.

  “I did say that. God knows I’ve looked everyplace I could think of. My guess is that my mother put it in something, then took that something into the attic and put it into something else.”

  “Are you sure she didn’t give it away, or maybe it was stolen? Or maybe it’s in an old purse or a hatbox or something?” Not for the first time, Des thought of all the places in the big house where such an item could be hidden.

  “She really didn’t see anyone once she developed dementia. She never wanted visitors, and by the time we’d hired someone to help with her, the necklace had already been missing for quite a while.” Barney shook her head. “It’s in this house, I’m certain of that. It’s just a matter of finding where.” A slow smile crossed her lips. “Which of course means that the house will have to stay in the family at least until the damned thing is found. If it’s still missing after I pass along, well, you’re all just going to have to keep looking.” Still smiling, she took a sip of coffee. “I think I’ll call Pete this week and have him put that in my will.”