“What?!”
“You didn’t want your mother to carry on with the Most Fascinating Man in the World so you killed him before we had the chance to hold our hot and steamy reunion!”
Uncle Alec directed his eyes heavenward and planted his fists on his hips.“God, give me strength,” he muttered. “Give me the strength not to strangle my own mother.”
Odelia decided to step in and prevent a second murder from taking place. She took a seat next to her grandmother and held her hand.“I’m very sorry for your loss, Grandma,” she said. “But I can assure you Uncle Alec had nothing to do with Mr. Goldsmith’s death.”
“Then who did?”
“We don’t know yet. All we know is that there was an explosion in his room and as a consequence of the blast he died.”
“Can I at least see the body?”
Odelia shared a quick look with her uncle, who shook his head, No!
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea. The explosion—it did a lot of damage.”
Grandma nodded firmly, then bit her lower lip.“Just my rotten luck. To find my lover again after all these years only to have him snatched away from me—just like the first time.”
“Is it really true you and my grandfather had an affair?” asked Philippe Goldsmith. He’d been listening intently and now joined the conversation.
Grandma directed a scathing look at him.“Who are you?”
“This is Philippe Goldsmith,” said Odelia. “Burt’s grandson.”
Grandma studied the bespectacled young man with interest.“You don’t look like Burt.”
“I take after my mother,” said the kid. “She was a dainty, delicate woman.”
“I’ll bet she was.”
“So is it true about you and Grandpa?”
“Sure it’s true—don’t you believe the naysayers,” she added, giving her son a nasty look. “Burt and I really whooped it up back in the swinging sixties. We were hot to trot and that’s exactly what we did for all those summers he spent down here in Hampton Cove.”
Philippe nodded.“Grandpa did mention that he had fond memories of this town. Which is why he was so happy to be back. Did he grow up here?”
“Nah. He was a city boy. But every summer his folks would come down to Hampton Cove and rent the old Mason place near Devil’s Point. The house is long gone now, bulldozed in the eighties and developed into a big fancy hotel. Oh, the fun times me and Burt used to have. Then one summer his folks didn’t come down, and I never saw him again. We didn’t have no internet back then, and he never gave me his address or else I would have written. He did have my address, though, and for three years I hoped he’d write.” She pressed her lips together. “He never did, so I finally mended my broken heart and moved on with my life. That’s when I met Jack. He was a sailor.” She shrugged. “The rest is history.”
Uncle Alec grumbled something. He was part of that history, Jack being his dad.
“So how did you finally reconnect?” asked Philippe.
“He left a message on my Facebook page,” said Grandma.
They all looked at her.“You have a Facebook page?” asked Odelia.
“Sure I do. No thanks to you people. I had to set it up all by myself.”
“What do you need a Facebook page for?” asked Uncle Alec.
“Where else am I going to meet some nice boys?”
Alec raised his eyes to the ceiling again.“Why do you need to meet nice boys?”
“You may not want to hear this but a girl’s got needs,” she snapped. “And since all the nice boys are taken or on the Facebook I made myself a page. With some help from Dick Bernstein and Rock Horowitz from the senior center. They were only too happy to oblige.”
Alec pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something. It sounded like a prayer.
“Grandpa told me he met a woman online,” said Philippe.
Grandma tapped her chest.“I’m that woman, kiddo.”
“So he reached out to you?” asked Odelia.
“He sure did. Said he remembered me fondly and wanted to apologize about never writing to me back in the day. Turns out his folks discovered he’d been seeing some local hussy—that’s me,” she added proudly, “and wanted to break up the affair before things got serious. He did write me, hesaid, but his parents intercepted his letters and burned them.”
“Just likeThe Notebook,” said Chase quietly.
“I was supposed to meet him here today,” Grandma continued. “For our grand reunion. And now you tell me he’s dead!”
“At least inThe Notebook they were together at the end,” Odelia said.
Philippe wiped away a tear.“What an amazing story.”
“Yeah, pretty swell, huh?” said Gran. She smacked her lips. “Burt promised me apple pie. Do you think he ordered and paid in advance? I could use a piece of warm apple pie.”
Just then, another elderly lady stomped into the hotel lobby. Odelia recognized her as Scarlett Canyon. She was Gran’s age but looked years younger. The Hampton Cove scuttlebutt had it that Scarlett had had work done on her face, which looked suspiciously wrinkle-free. It lent her an unnatural look, her lips puffy and her eyes catlike. She also had an impressive d?colletage that she liked to play up by wearing dresses a few sizes too small.
“Vesta Muffin!” she roared the moment she walked in. “You whore!”
Grandma shot to her feet.“Look who’s talking!” she retorted furiously.
“Who’s this now?” Chase asked.
“Scarlett Canyon,” Odelia said. “She hates Gran’s guts. And vice versa.”
Rumor also had it that Scarlett had once tried to seduce Gran’s husband Jack and succeeded. The couple had stayed together but Gran had never forgiven either Scarlett, her former best friend, or her husband, who’d proceeded to drink himself into an early grave. The drinking had nothing to do with Scarlett, though. The man had been a closet alcoholic.
“Burt was my lover!” Scarlett cried, waving her arms dramatically. “Not yours!”
“Is it just me or does she remind you of Elizabeth Taylor?” asked Chase.
“Tell her. You’ll make her day,” Odelia said.
“Burt was mine—all mine!” Gran returned.
Philippe was staring from one old lady to the other, visibly confused that the scene had so abruptly switched fromThe Notebook to an episode ofFeud.
“He always told me he loved me more,” claimed Scarlett.
“That was before he met me,” said Grandma.
“Impossible! Burt liked a woman with curves! Not a bag of bones.”
“Burt liked women—notskankswho prey on other women’s husbands.”
“Oh, boy,” said Chase. “Maybe we should break this up.”
“Maybe you’re right. Before these ladies break the internet.” She gestured to several people filming the scene with their smartphones. Everybody likes free entertainment.
But before Chase could intervene, Scarlett broke down in tears, swooping down on one of the sofas and tremulously declaring,“My lover is dead. Now my life is over.”
Philippe, who’d been following the interaction with breathless anticipation, suddenly asked, “So who of you is my grandmother?”
Both ladies looked up in confusion.“Huh?” asked Scarlett eloquently.
The kid was wringing his hands, his face flushed.“My dad always told me his mother was a woman Burt had loved and lost in the Hamptons. So one of you must be her.”
“I was wrong,” said Chase. “This isn’tThe Notebook. This isThe Bold and the Beautiful.”
And to add credence to his claim, suddenly Gran cried out,“Me! I’m your grandmother, my sweet, dear boy. It’s me!”
Philippe’s face cleared and he opened his arms to hug his newfound relative.
Uncle Alec appeared confused.“How can you be his grandmother? Wouldn’t you remember giving birth to a second son?”
Gran shrugged.“You try to remember everything that happened to you when you’re my age.”
“Don’t you believe her! Vesta is not your grandmother!” suddenly cried Scarlett, rearing up from the sofa like an opera star and approaching Philippe. “My precious boy. You finally found me.” She then threw out her hands and without warning clutched the kid to her ample chest. “My lovely, beautiful boy! My precious, precious grandson! My beloved Pierre!”