“Is that Whitesnake?” he asked when the Jeep came to a rocking stop.
She offered a half smile, turning the music down a couple of notches. “Good to see you learned something while we were together.”
He could tell by the flush of her cheeks that she regretted her choice of words. He nodded, letting her know he understood she didn’t mean together together.
Jessica popped the trunk and he dropped his bag in the back.
“Can’t believe this thing is still running,” he said, double-checking to make sure his seat belt was locked.
She paused, her hand on the gearshift. “She’s in better shape than you, it seems. What happened to your hair? When was the last time you slept? Or ate?”
He took a moment to look her over. They were a study in contrasts. She had traded in her auburn hair for honey blond, the sun adding streaks of gold. Her skin was tan, her body so toned, he assumed she’d become a gym rat since last year. Jessica was as fresh and alive as a woman could be.
On the flip side, his sleeping habits, thanks to his constant visitors, left a lot to be desired. He saw the dark circles in the mirror, the keen-edged cheekbones growing sharper with each skipped meal. No matter how much he showered, he couldn’t fully erase the smell of pet food from his pores.
“I’m in a period of transition,” he said, chuckling lightly.
She ran her hand over his shorn skull. “Yeah, well, I think you need to get over that period. We’ll start with a hot meal. We’re swinging by my aunt’s restaurant.”
The music screamed back to life as she headed to the I95 access road.
Do I look so bad that she’s forgotten her usual barbs? The few times they’d spoken over the last two years, she hadn’t been one to spare her anger toward him. Misplaced as that anger was, he’d grown accustomed to their repartee. He always equated speaking to Jessica with light sparring in a dank, sweat-smelling gym.
“Should be a fun family reunion,” she said, swerving across three lanes. “I’m sure my aunt will be happy to see you.”
He was glad she was so sure.
Tobe Harper sat in the maroon, leather wingback chair, enjoying the fire. Outside was sunny without a trace of clouds, the thermometer hovering around ninety-four.
Inside Ormsby House was like stepping into another world.
Perpetual drafts, some as icy as the wind off a frozen lake, whispered and danced from room to room. At times, it would get so cold, they could see their breath misting before their eyes.
The phenomenon had started several days ago, right around the time the few items of furniture had been delivered, blending in nicely with the period pieces left behind in the abandoned mansion.
Tobe enjoyed the cold immensely. There was nothing quite like the chill at one’s back, in direct opposition with the warm glow that settled on one’s face.
“I think this house believes it can freeze us out,” his wife Daphne exclaimed, sweeping into the room with a long, black quilt draped over her shoulders. She curled up on the floor beside the fire grate. “It’s wonderful, isn’t it?”
A heavy crystal decanter clinked against the rim of a glass. “Have some brandy,” he said. “You won’t need a fire after a couple of these.”
Her long, pale fingers wrapped around the glass. She took a small sip, savoring the acidic burn.
They stared into the fire, locked in a comfortable silence, lost in a singular thought.
“Do you think it will get worse?” she said, shifting across the floor so she could rest her head on his knee. He swept his fingers through her long, silken hair.
“Absolutely,” he said, his words heavy with expensive booze and contentment. “You never told me, how did she sound when you spoke to her? Was she surprised, frightened, wary?”
“Yes, no and yes. I could tell she was very young.”
“All the better, all the better. And you’ve made the other call?”
Daphne nipped his upper thigh, growling like a tiger cub. “Of course I did. Everything is set. Now all we have to do is wait. This will all work out, won’t it?”
In all their years of marriage, he’d never seen his scarlet-haired wife filled with so much desperation and doubt. He wished there was a way to transfuse his brimming confidence into the woman. Things had looked dire, yes. But it was time to put that all behind them. Tobe by nature wasn’t a schemer. He was a planner. Schemers, for the most part, didn’t possess the far-reaching vision to succeed. Planners got things done.
“Just like I’ve told you before, it will. Have a little faith.”
Tobe leaned forward to throw another log on the fire. The mid-afternoon sun streamed through the great room’s windows, but its warmth was denied access by the sentient presence others called Ormsby House.
Jessica and Eddie left Connecticut heading for New York. There was no traffic this time of day, so they made the trip to Long Island in good time. The construction on the Whitestone Bridge made Eddie nervous as they crossed. The outer lane was so narrow, the Jeep barely fit. Looking out the side window, he was hit with a heavy dose of vertigo. One wrong move, and he was sure the car would pitch over the side. He knew not to ask Jessica to slow down. That would only translate to “speed up” in her ears.
Once they were over the death trap of a bridge, the rest of the trip was actually nice. Neither could be heard over the music, so neither tried to speak. Summer was in full swing and the smell of fresh cut grass poured through the windows.
“Where’s the restaurant?” he asked, shouting.
Thankfully, she paused the song, something sung by a guy who must have gargled gasoline and glass shards. “It’s out in Oyster Bay. It’s a seafood place. You like seafood?”
“I love clams and shrimp. She still have the Italian restaurant?”
She nodded. “Still going. The place did so well, she decided to open this one last spring. She’s got a knack for restaurants.”
“A lot of people would pay good money to find out her secret.”
“It’s easy. Make good food and make sure your staff knows the rules. If they can’t follow them, it’s adios.”
Jessica merged onto a two-lane exit and took a right. By the briny scent hovering in the air, Eddie knew they were close to the water.
“That’s it right there,” Jessica said, pointing at a raised, oval sign that said Eve’s Seafood Garden.
It was a modest place with a small parking lot, colorful flowers sprouting from gardens and hanging pots, and heavily tinted windows.
The heat simmered off the gravel lot. “You said this was a family reunion. Who else will be here?” Eddie said.
“Just my aunt and Liam. I haven’t seen them for a while. I’ve been keeping under the radar.”
She straightened her form-fitting, black T-shirt and dusted off the cuffs of her hip-hugging jeans. Instead of her usual jackboots, she wore brown sandals. Fiddling with her hair in the side view mirror, she smiled when Eddie asked, “How long is a while?”
“Um, I guess it’s been eight months.”
No wonder she’s not giving me shit, he thought. She’s too busy worrying about the truckload of guilt Eve is going to dump on her.
She held the door open. “After you.”
Chapter Seven
The moment Jessica saw her aunt Eve, she couldn’t stop her legs from running to the woman who had sacrificed everything to be her mother. Eve stood by the double doors leading to the kitchen, talking to one of the wait staff. Her eyes went wide when she saw her wayward adopted daughter.
“Come here,” Eve said. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Jessica melted into her embrace. She hadn’t realized how much she missed her until this moment. Jessica had never known her mother, but she was sure she more than approved of the love and care Eve had given her over the past twenty-two years.
Neither could speak for several minutes. They clutched one another as if opposing forces were trying to tear them apart. Jessica had forgotten they were in a packed restaurant with dozens of diners drawn to their reunion. That was, until she heard her cousin Liam say, “Yo, Eddie, how’ve you been, man?”