"Pink roses," Harry answered. "She also likes those big white lilies with the pink throats."
"Thanks." He smiled.
"She really is taking a year off. I know you're keeping count," Susan added.
"After months of no-go, you might look good," Priscilla teased Nordy.
"I always look good." He smiled, flashing strong, straight teeth.
As Nordy and Priscilla drove off to their next location in downtown Charlottesville, Susan and Harry lifted their faces to the warming sun.
"God, that feels good." Harry's cheeks flushed.
"Whenever winter wears me down, I look at the calendar and tell myself, no matter what, the first snowdrops will be up by mid-March and the crocuses soon follow, even if they have to peep up through the snow."
"Yeah. Winter is beautiful." Harry appreciated all those hidden things now visible with the leaves off the trees. "But nothing beats spring here in the foothills."
"Fall."
"Mmm, toss-up." She finished her can of Coke. "Looks like BoomBoom has another conquest."
"If she had a dollar for every man who tripped over his own feet in her presence, she'd be almost as rich as Big Mim." Susan wondered what it must feel like to have that kind of power.
"They fall in love with her but she doesn't fall in love with them." Harry crossed her arms over her chest.
"She's falling in love now."
"BoomBoom?"
Susan nodded her head in affirmation. "And you know, I think it's for real."
"How could she sneak out on us like that?"
"She hasn't. She's falling right in front of us."
"She is?"
"Alicia," Susan flatly stated.
"Alicia? Oh, never. BoomBoom isn't gay."
"I didn't say she was gay." Susan crumpled the paper bag her sandwich had been in, aimed for the big open garbage can, and sank her shot. "I said she was falling in love."
"In an ideal world you fall in love with the person, not the wrapping paper. Still. It's hard for me to believe." Harry frowned.
"Why? Makes you nervous?"
"No. Yes. Not because she's in love with a woman, but because I never saw it coming. Because I thought I knew BoomBoom. This changes things. I hate not knowing."
"Harry, she probably didn't know she could feel this way. And it doesn't change anything. She's the person we've always known. BoomBoom's a strong woman. She's endured social censure for her many affairs, for flaunting her beauty. She took it with good grace."
"You're right. I never thought of that."
"Once she figures out that she really is in love with Alicia, she'll be just fine."
"What about Alicia?"
"Alicia? She's crazy about BoomBoom."
"She is?"
"Harry." Susan threw up her hands in despair. "Come on, I'll take you to the John Deere dealer; you'll be in your element."
Harry brightened. "Have you seen the new compact tractors? Susan, they are something else." She stopped. "Oh, you're not going there, are you? You're pulling my leg."
Susan hugged Harry. "Sure. Come on, Skeezits."
Back in the car, heading east toward town, Harry asked, "Is there anything Brother Thomas ever said to you that stuck in your mind?"
"He was such a sweet man. He used to tell me to trust God. And, um... well, I do remember once when I was in high school I was upset about something—I don't even remember what it was—and he told me to thank God for my troubles. They're gifts in disguise."
"Do you?"
"No. I haven't learned that lesson." Susan powered up the steep hill near what used to be a farm called Rustling Oaks, owned by a fabulous horseman, Billy Jones. It was a subdivision now. Susan hoped Billy haunted the big, flashy homes.
"Me, neither."
"You're usually the one with the hunches about everything but romance," Susan smiled at her friend, "but this time I have a hunch that there are troubles up ahead. I hope I have the guts to get through them."
"You will." Harry's voice resonated with conviction. "I have a hunch, too. Brother Thomas did not die a natural death."
"Harry, don't let your imagination run away with you." Susan didn't want to think her great-uncle had been murdered.
"Why go out in that hellish cold? At his age? Remember Dante's Inferno? The lowest circle of hell is ice. Why would he go out?"
"He wanted to pray before the tears of blood."
Harry put her hands together, resting her chin on her forefingers. "I don't believe it."
"You know how you get. You eat up any conspiracy theory that you hear or read. Why, the last book you read was about the British poisoning Napoleon by degrees when he was exiled on St. Helena." She sighed, then continued. "G-Uncle Thomas was sweet and gentle. No one would kill him."
"Sweet and kind people are blasted every day all over the world." Harry marveled at the human capacity for evil.
"Why G-Uncle?"
"I don't know. But you feel that BoomBoom is falling for Alicia. I trust you about those things. You have amazing radar for human relationships. My radar is different. I pick up blips about these kinds of things, about secrets."
"Not my secrets." Susan said this with humor as they passed the left turn to Barracks Stud and the Barracks, two equine facilities.
"Yours aren't big enough." Harry lifted her eyebrow.
"That's what you think," Susan's voice slightly darkened.
"Then you're really, really good."
A long pause followed, traffic increasing. "Why would anyone kill Thomas? Really, Harry, it's incomprehensible."
"People are often killed just because they're inconvenient."
20
Large, round balls studded with pyracantha berries filled an enormous silver bowl that Mary Pat Reines had won at the Pennsylvania National Horse Show in 1962. Ropes of fresh garland hung over every mantelpiece, doorway, and even the front hall mirror. Alicia and BoomBoom were artfully placing oranges, apples, walnuts, and sprays of wheat throughout the garlands. Before the heavy evergreens were embedded with treasures, a thin red ribbon was entwined with a three-inch-wide gold mesh ribbon, and both were then woven through the garlands. The mesh ribbon's sides bolstered with thin wire proved easy to maneuver. The stunning finished effect lightened Alicia's spirits.
The shimmering melancholy veil lifted from Alicia's shoulders as she and BoomBoom worked this Sunday. She kept up a good front during Christmas, but the holidays made her dwell on those she loved who were no longer living. Bach's Magnificat played throughout the house.
"Every culture fights the dark," Alicia noted, selecting a robust red apple and placing it next to a pale green one. "Hmm, think I'll get one equal in size to the green. What do you think?"
"Your eye is better than mine, but balance is everything." BoomBoom's gold fox mask earrings with ruby eyes caught the firelight.
"Takes so long to find it. Balance." Alicia stepped back. "Better. Another half hour and we'll be about as festive as possible—well, except for the tree, and that monster won't get here until Thursday or Friday, a Douglas fir on steroids."
"Did you decorate in California?"
"Mm-hmm. One year I thought I'd use plants native to the great state of California. I used eucalyptus for wreaths. One eucalyptus wreath would have done the trick, but no, I filled the house with them. The place smelled like a spa. When one was greeted at the door, I'm sure they expected me to come out in a bathrobe. Sherry thought it was hysterical, but he had a pungent sense of humor." She smiled slightly.
"The studio head?"
"Driven man. Brilliant, really."
"Ever speak to him?"
"Once or twice a week. We couldn't live together, but once we gave that up, this amazing, supportive friendship flourished in marriage's place. I am a very lucky woman."
"It's not luck. You're good to people and they're good back."
"Thank you. I try, but once sex is in the mix, one becomes irrational. You know, I think men are more irrational about it than women. Women talk about it and are afforded the luxury of acting irrational, but men really are irrational."
"That's been my experience, except for Fair Haristeen."