The Mirror (The Lost Bride Trilogy #2)

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

After unearthing pots, planters, and other useful things, they sat out on the deck with Trey-made sandwiches and ice-cold Cokes.

Cleo and Sonya huddled over paint colors.

“This!” Sonya said.

“That, oh yeah. Ocean Mist? Couldn’t be more perfect. For the bench, right?”

“Definitely, then what about Sea Green for the chairs?”

“We have a winner. Two winners. Sonya, how about we find little copper tables for either side.”

“Copper tables is genius.”

“Rob Farmer can make them.” Eyes shut, Owen leaned back in the old metal chair. “He might have something already in his shop.”

“Rob Farmer.”

“Metalworks,” Trey answered Cleo. “He’s got some pieces at Bay Arts. He’s got a shop out on Red Fox Road, two miles out of the village.”

“How long would it take?” Sonya wondered.

“Won’t know till you ask.” Owen took out his phone. After scanning his contacts, texted the number.

“Now you’ve got his number. My job is done.”

“And I’m using it right now.”

She got up, wandered off to make the call.

“A coffee table, too,” Cleo decided. “Not copper. Too matchy. Wood. Nothing fancy—a rustic, raw-hewed sort of thing. Even better, one of those live-edge tables.”

Feeling her gaze, Owen opened one eye. Then closed it again.

Cleo just sighed, knowing she’d planted the seed.

“It’s really nice out here. We tend to gravitate to the front, that view, but this is a nice place to just sit. What we need out there is some pretty bird feeders.”

“Yeah, the bears’ll love them.” Owen put a foot up on Jones, rubbed.

“Really?”

“And the cat would be thrilled with the all-she-can-eat buffet.”

“She wouldn’t—Of course she would. I’ll settle for the planters, some wind chimes, maybe some witch bottles.”

Sonya rushed back. “Cleo, he says we can come out to his shop right now.”

“Now.” Automatically, she patted her hair. “Sure, okay.”

“We’re fine here,” Trey said before she could ask. “Just fine right here.”

She walked over, kissed him. “We won’t be long.”

Owen waited until he heard the car start. “Quiet. You won’t be getting a lot of that from here out.”

“I won’t?”

“Not saying she’s a motormouth, because she’s not. Neither of them are. But your quiet, sitting-in-your-boxers-watching-the-ballgame nights are coming to an end.”

“Says who?”

“The one who knows you as well as I know me. You’re good and stuck on her, and I don’t blame you a bit. After all, we share the devastating Poole good looks.”

“Yeah, I often think of you when I look at her.”

“It’s in the genes, brother. Plus, she’s smart, got the creative thing going, and she doesn’t take any crap, even from a two-hundred-year-old witch with an attitude. Add the damsel, even one who can absolutely handle herself, in some distress angle.

“You’re sunk.”

“It’s not any of that, and it’s all of that. Something just clicked. It clicked the minute I saw her standing out in front of the manor, the minute she smiled at me. Son of a bitch. It’s not supposed to happen like that.”

“Why the hell not?” Owen stirred himself enough to shift in his chair. “You move slow, that’s how you’re made. Nothing wrong with that. Sometimes circumstances move faster. It’s easier to sail with the wind than into it.”

He settled back. “Anyway, I’m going to enjoy the quiet, then go in and put some mac and cheese together.”

He had it together and in the oven by the time they got back, flushed with pleasure and carrying a flat-topped copper stand with a honeycomb pattern.

“Isn’t it great! He’s going to make us another one. I’m taking it out to see how it looks. Oh, and we stopped and bought the paint!”

Considering the rousing success of the day, Cleo got out the wine. “You didn’t mention Rob Farmer’s about a hundred and fifty.”

“But spry,” Trey added.

“Very, and very talented. Also a bit of a hound dog. He flirted hard with me. Not as hard with Sonya, as he’s heard—he told us—she’s seeing the young Doyle boy.”

“What did you do?” Owen wondered.

“Flirted right back. He’s also very cute. And with the flirting and ordering a second table, he took fifty off. So a bargain.”

She opened the oven. “Well, well, that looks like a very high-class mac and cheese. How much time have we got?”

He moved next to her, looked in. “About ten more to cook. You want it to rest a couple after.”

“Perfect. I’m going to run out, take a look, then I’ll set the table.”

When she went out, Trey gave Owen a big smile. “About that quiet time.”

“I’ve got plenty left in the bank.”

“If you say so.”

After Owen’s very successful mac and cheese, and a friendly argument over the best rock bands of all time, the women issued a challenge.

“I think it’s time we heard some Head Case, don’t you, Cleo?”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

Trey carted plates over to the sink. “Sadly, Head Case is no more.”

“We have two members of the band right here.” Sonya spread her hands. “We’ll imagine the rest.” She pushed away from the table. “Music room.”

“They think we’re gonna suck,” Owen said.

“Sometimes we did.”

“Sometimes we didn’t.” Owen rose with a shrug. “I’m game. You should grab that wine,” he told Cleo. “We sound better if you’re a little drunk.”

Trey got two beers. “We play better if we are.”

With wine, beer, three dogs, and a cat, they trooped down to the music room. Owen picked up a guitar, gave it a strum, started tuning it.

With obvious reluctance, Trey did the same.

“Do y’all play any other instruments?” Cleo wondered. “It’s such a great collection. It should all be played instead of just displayed.”

“Owen can handle the piano.”

“ Handle ’s about right.” After some testing chords, Owen nodded. “You improvise better there.” As he played an opening riff, he looked at Trey. “Not as much punch as with an electric, but this’ll do. Remember the lyrics?”

“Yeah, I remember the lyrics.”

“Okay then.” He played the opening again while his foot tapped the beat.

Trey filled in the rhythm and added his voice.

“A million miles away, your signal in the distance.”

Acoustic or not, they rocked out Foo Fighters’ “Walk,” with Owen coming in on the chorus.

The audience broke into applause.

“I’m not anywhere near drunk,” Sonya said, “and you do not suck. Do another!”

“There’s wisdom in quitting while you’re ahead.”

Owen just grinned and played another riff. When they went with Aerosmith’s “Livin’ on the Edge,” Cleo grabbed a tambourine. Laughing, Sonya joined in as backup dancer.

As they rocked through what she decided equaled Head Case’s greatest hits, the banging started.

She shot a middle finger at the ceiling and kept dancing.

“Play it louder!”

Trey stomped his foot, clapped his hands.

“That’s right!” Sonya shot up her fists. “That’s damn right. ‘We Will Rock You’!”

With Cleo, she joined in, defiant voices singing out both threat and promise.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, about wraps up tonight’s performance.”

“We’ve still got at least some of it,” Owen said to Trey. “We shut her down.”

“One more.” Cleo lifted her glass. “We’ve got just enough wine left for one more.”

“Let’s finish with the Boss.” Owen flexed his fingers. “I’ve got one more in me.”

When they ended with Springsteen’s “Fire,” Sonya decided there was nothing sexier anywhere, anytime, than a good-looking man and a guitar.

“That’s the way to put a cap on an evening.” Cleo scanned the instruments. “I’ve got to learn how to play something in here.”

“You’ve got some pipes.”

She smiled at Owen. “You should hear me sing in the shower.”

He smiled back. “Looking forward to it.”

She only laughed. “Time to let our four-legged friends out before bed.”

When they reached the door, opened it, Sonya let out a whoosh. “Wow, that’s some fresh air! You know, I think I reached the little-bit-drunk level.”

“If a woman can’t get a little bit drunk on a Saturday night among friends in her own house, when and where?”

She gave Owen a light punch on the arm. “My favorite cousin, and my second-favorite rocker. I’m going to bed with my favorite rocker.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

She slept without dreams, or without dreams remembered, without a stir, without a murmur when the clock struck three.

She slept while Trey stood at the window and watched Hester Dobbs take her fall.

On Sunday, since Trey went off with Owen to work on Yoda’s doghouse, she and Cleo handled domestic chores. They divided laundry detail, then in the blissful April sunshine washed out planters and pots. And finalized the open house invitations.

“Corrine said a hundred and fifty invites would do it.”

Sonya sucked in a breath between her teeth. “That could mean like three hundred people. Holy shit, Cleo. Can we really do this?”

Clover returned to the Boss and “You’ve Got It.”

“Do we?”

Sonya squared her shoulders. “If we don’t, we’re gonna. But let’s hold off until Bree comes over tomorrow. Then we pull the trigger.”

“Good plan. Now let’s pull the trigger and get ready for dinner at the Doyles’.”

Upstairs, Sonya decided to go with Molly’s pick of a simple and classic blue wrap dress and low-heeled booties.

For Cleo, she’d gone with a soft spring pink.

“Good choices.” Sonya gave Cleo a nod when she did a turn. “Not too fancy, not too casual.”

“When we’re in Boston, we need to squeeze in some shopping time so we can give Molly some new choices.”

“I find no objection to that. I’d say we’re ready, with a stop for flowers on the way.” Bending down, she nuzzled Yoda. “Be good. I know Jack will come out and play with you both.”

As they drove, Sonya glanced over at Cleo. “I know you’re serious about coming to Boston with me, but are you really serious about standing in as my assistant for the Ryder presentation?”

“Absolutely. I can help set up the visuals, and if I run the video, you can focus on your pitch. It’s a good one.”

“I’ve refined it a little. I’d need to run it through with you again. And I have to ask Trey if he’d keep Yoda while we’re out of town. Or, if it’s easier for him, to just stay at the manor.”

“I think I’m going to see if Owen’ll take Pye, unless Trey’s going to stay. And even then, he’d be at work all day. She’s so clearly stuck on him. Owen, I mean.”

“Have I missed anything since my very awkward interruption in your studio?”

“No. It’s all under consideration.”

“He really is my favorite cousin.”

“That’s a low bar, Son.”

Sonya had to laugh. “He said the same thing.”

They stopped for flowers, rich purple tulips, then drove the climbing road just outside the town proper.

“We haven’t seen it in daylight,” Sonya said when the GPS announced they’d reached their destination. “What a beautiful house. It’s not as big and sprawling as the offices, but it has the same feel to it.”

“It’s really wonderful. Who doesn’t love a wraparound porch, especially with a turret over it?”

“I sure do.” She eased across the slate-gray, paved drive to pull up beside Trey’s truck.

“Trey’s here, and that’s Anna’s car. So we’re not too early.”

“I don’t see Owen’s truck, so we’re not too late either. I bet those azaleas are spectacular when they bloom.”

“Won’t be long now.”

They walked to the covered porch, rang the bell.

Anna’s husband, Seth, answered. “Sonya, good to see you. And you must be Cleo. Seth,” he said, and offered a hand. “Come on in.”

They’d kept the Victorian style inside with a graceful fireplace flanked by bookshelves in the living room and the gleam of honey-toned floors.

“Action’s back here,” Seth told them as he guided them through.

“The action smells delicious.”

He smiled at Cleo. “Wait till you taste Corrine’s glazed ham.”

They passed a manly-looking office where Sonya expected Deuce put in some hours, and a more feminine style with walls lined with photos where Corrine put in her time.

Voices as well as scents flowed back from a big, serious kitchen where the family gathered around a large island or sat at a table by a wall of glass that opened into an expansive garden.

Already early blooms showed their color.

Trey, dress shirt untucked over khakis, slid off a stool and leaned down to kiss her. The easy greeting with his family all around gave Sonya a little glow.

Corrine took a baking dish out of the lower of double wall ovens, and after setting it aside, came around the island to kiss Sonya, then Cleo on the cheek.

“Aren’t these gorgeous! And tulips mean spring. Thank you both.”

“Thanks for having us. Your home’s just beautiful.”

“We’re happy here.” She patted Sonya’s hand. “You’ve both met Deuce. He and Trey were just arguing baseball, so your arrival’s a reprieve.”

“Oh, we’ll get back to it,” Deuce promised.

Ace—no three-piece suit and tie today, but just as handsome in an open-collared shirt—unfolded himself from the table where he’d been sitting with his wife and granddaughter.

He winked at Sonya, gave her a bear hug, then turned to Cleo.

“Cleopatra, at last.” He took her hand, and with a twinkle in his eye, kissed it. “Come meet my own darling, then you can tell me your life story.”

“I’d love to, as long as there’s a semicolon after it. I’m not finished yet.”

“I do love a beautiful young woman with some sass. Paula, meet Cleo.”

“That’ll keep them busy awhile. Sonya, let me get you a drink.”

“I had a lot of wine with last night’s concert. But I’d love some water.”

“Trey didn’t mention you went to a concert.”

“He and Owen performed in the music room.”

“‘Performed’ might be overstating it.” Trey tugged her down to a stool.

“Not for me. We haven’t had live music at the manor since you came to dinner, Corrine. We need to have it more often.”

Obviously too at home for bell ringing, Owen came in. Not with flowers but a live plant.

“Owen! Is that—”

“Old-fashioned weigela,” he finished, and kissed his hostess. “I heard you had a spot for one.”

“I do! Deuce may curse you when I watch him dig the hole.”

“I already am,” Deuce said as Owen carried it straight out to the deck. “Well, since the gang’s all here, I’ll carve the ham.”

Owen lit right up. “Score!”

It was just that easy, a Sunday dinner around a big table, conversations winging. Baby talk, baseball talk, gardening, cooking, art, local gossip, and plenty about the planned open house.

And none, Sonya realized, about what lurked in the manor in the Gold Room. Maybe the Doyles decided to give her a kind of reprieve.

Corrine didn’t brush off offers to help deal with the dishes, which to Sonya’s mind made it a true family dinner.

It brought chaos with it, but she enjoyed that, too, as well as a tour of the gardens, which gave her too many ideas to fit in her head.

“The gardens at the manor are well established,” Corrine told her as they walked. “But Collin filled in with annuals every year, added planters.”

“We’re hoping to do the same. But how do you know what everything is? What goes together? And where to fill in?”

“Experience. And if you make a mistake? There’s always next year.”

Though the living room didn’t boast a baby grand, it had a spinet. It took very little to coax Paula to play, and Ace to form a duet.

Seth sat with his arm around Anna’s shoulders, murmured something in her ear that had her smiling and bringing his hand to her belly under hers.

Deuce and Corrine sat together, his hand on her knee, her head tilted toward his shoulder.

It struck Sonya she wanted that, every stage of that unity.

The young just starting, the deeply established, the long-lasting. A home filled with generations and music and arguments over baseball.

One day, she thought, she wanted a chance to begin all of that.

Just one more reason to find the seven rings, break the curse, and rid the manor of what shadowed it.

When Paula lifted her hand to pat the one resting on her shoulder, Sonya took it as her cue.

“This has been wonderful, just wonderful. I can’t thank you enough for having us.”

Cleo picked it right up. “If we didn’t have a cat and dog waiting at home, you’d have a hard time getting rid of us.”

Goodbyes took time before Trey walked them out.

“Sonya told me,” Cleo began, “but now I’ve seen for myself. You have a terrific family. I wondered how three generations managed to work together, but question answered. Love, respect, rhythm. You’ve got them.”

“Born lucky. Staff meeting in the morning.”

“You told me.” Still feeling wistful, Sonya wrapped around him. “We’re fine, and yes, you’ll know if that changes.”

She kissed him again before she got behind the wheel.

Cleo lingered by the open passenger door another minute. “You know, I really liked your grandmother. Easy elegance, humor, style all wrapped up in one. If I didn’t like and admire her, I might break my number one relationship rule and have a wild affair with your grandfather.”

“And that’s a damn clever way to flatter them both.”

Cleo got in, sighed as Sonya waved and backed out of the drive.

“That was fun, and illuminating.”

“Illuminating?”

“Seeing them all together that way. Each one their own person, but all a part of a whole. I think Collin must’ve been a good man. I don’t see Deuce being lifelong friends, brothers really, with someone who wasn’t.”

“Neither do I,” Sonya agreed. “The wedding photo—the one of the Doyles with Collin and Johanna on the bench. You saw it, right?”

“I did. It tells me Johanna must’ve been a good woman. Corrine’s style’s all over that house, and that picture wouldn’t be there unless she loved both of them.”

“They didn’t have the chance to make what the Doyles made. But we will.” Sonya glanced over. “We will, Cleo, when it’s right.”

Cleo looked toward the bay as they drove by it.

“When it’s right,” she said after a moment, “I don’t see either of us settling for less.”

Then she turned back. “We’ve got some time before dark. Let’s free the furries and walk around. Corrine packed my head with so many garden ideas.”

“Mine, too. We have to figure out what we’ve got first.”

“That’s where we start. Owen said no bird feeders because bears like them.”

“Oh.” A beat. “Oh! That’s a very disturbing thought.”

“So no bird feeders, and unless a lot of it’s already there, I doubt a garden to rival Corrine’s—at least not our first year.”

“What are you doing?”

Cleo kept working her phone. “I’m looking up that plant Owen brought her. If I can figure out how to spell it. Maybe we have one. Okay, here it is. And that’s beautiful. If we don’t have one, I want one.”

“Right there,” Sonya said as she turned onto Manor Road, “is a good place to start.”

She parked, and they walked to the house. Cat and dog greeted them at the door before both streaked out.

“I guess we did test their bladder control. How about we change,” Cleo suggested, “and take that walk around in pj’s?”

“Now, that’s what I call being home.”

Clover sang it out with Steve Perry’s “Missing You.”

“Okay,” Sonya said with a laugh, “that’s being home.”

When they’d changed, they joined Yoda and Pye. As they walked, Sonya used an app on her phone to take pictures of bushes and identify them.

“I need that app.” Cleo pulled out her phone. “I’m downloading that app.”

“It’ll work better—lots—when everything has leaves. Better yet flowers. If they get flowers, because we don’t know that yet. And there’s stuff poking out of the ground over there, over there. I don’t think they’re weeds.”

“Rosebushes over there. You don’t need an app to recognize rosebushes.”

“Or hydrangeas. So we’ve got those. And you know what else we’ve got? Gardening books in the library.”

“Then let’s get to it.”

Since the air had chilled by the time they went in, they brewed a pot of tea to take up with them. Where a fire already crackled in the hearth.

“That’s nice. Thanks, Molly—or Jerome,” Cleo considered. “Either way, it’s nice.”

They pulled out books, and Cleo grabbed one of Sonya’s sketch pads. As they sat, Sonya opened one of the books, blew out a breath. “It’s a lot.”

“We can handle it. While it’s fresh in my head, I’m going to sketch out what we’ve got—or think we’ve got.”

They spent an hour and more, peaceful, by the fire thinking of gardens, imagining flowers.

Each took a book with them to bed.

Sonya fell asleep thinking of gardens, imagining flowers.

And dreamed.