Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
“ W e’re here,” I practically sing as Bess, Nettie, Ransom, Wes, and I step off the gangway and onto terra firma.
The rest of the group belts out a cheer in response.
“It’s been a while, Trixie,” Ransom says as he offers a warm kiss on my lips.
“It’s been a while indeed.” I’m about to welcome Bess and Nettie to my home state—and the home state of Ransom and Wes—but before I can open my mouth, a bumbling buffoon and the blonde glued to his side make their way over.
“Race you to Brambleberry,” Stanton shouts as he and Neelie pass by us. “Last one there is a rotten egg, a spoiled apple, and a soggy cracker!”
“Typical,” I say. “He can’t decide which euphemism to stick to, just like he couldn’t decide which woman to stick to.”
Ransom ticks his head to the side. “I for one am glad about his indecisive nature.”
I nod. “It was my lucky break, for sure.”
Ransom warms my back with his arms as he holds me close and we share a quick laugh.
Portland, Maine looms before us, just as the sun decides to peek through the clouds. The air is crisp and the salty sea breeze bites at our cheeks as we pile into Wes’ rental van with the captain himself at the wheel.
Ransom and I take the middle row, while Bess and Nettie camp out in the back. Portland passes us by in a blur of brick buildings, lobster shacks, and quaint coastal charm, until we make our way out of town and up the coast to sweet, sweet Brambleberry Bay.
The drive takes about an hour, with Ransom’s hand resting comfortably on my knee the entire time, his thumb absentmindedly stroking small circles against my jeans. I glance at him, his profile chiseled and strong, and I offer him a soft smile.
Despite everything—murder, ghosts, ex-husbands—this is the happiest I’ve ever been.
Sure enough, Brambleberry Bay is as picturesque as ever with its cobbled streets lined with Victorian houses painted in pastel hues, shops with whimsical names like The Beehive Boutique and Pepper’s Pickled Goods, and the bay itself, sparkling under the noon sun, dotted with sailboats bobbing lazily in the waves.
It looks like a postcard, like something I could spend hours sketching and painting—and I have. And as we drive past the familiar sights, I feel my heart swell for all that was and all that will now be.
We’re meeting Abbey and Parker at the Brambleberry Bay Country Club for lunch—my kids, my beautiful grown-up babies who somehow manage to make me prouder with every passing day.
We pull up to the club with its manicured lawns stretching out before us, and we pile out of the van. The club is a classic with glitzy mansion-like buildings, each with numerous white columns, green shutters, and a sense of understated elegance that’s always made me feel like I should be wearing pearls. Ironically, most of the time I spent here, I did just that.
The main hub is called the Cottage House, which is home to two restaurants, a decently priced casual joint called the Cottage Grill, and an extravagantly priced establishment called Seabreeze that an average person would have to mortgage their home just to enjoy a meal there .
Ransom said there was no competition and he’s footing the bill.
“Mom!” Abbey spots us first, waving from the entrance while jumping up and down.
“Baby!” I cry as I dash her way with open arms.
At twenty-one, she’s the spitting image of my younger self—fair skin, light hair, and a smile that could melt even the grumpiest of hearts.
From behind her, Parker pops up, standing tall and looking every bit the sophisticated academic he’s become. At twenty-four, he’s just finished up at Dexter and is now pursuing his graduate degree at Hollingsworth University in England, studying digital social media—whatever that means. His hair is slightly tousled, and his eyes are bright as he waves us over.
I crash into them both and pull them into a hug that does its best to meld our three bodies together.
“ Mom .” Abbey grins as she pulls back a notch. “It’s so good to see you.”
“You, too, sweetheart.” I squeeze her tight before turning to Parker. “And look at you! Crossing the Atlantic just for me. I’m honored and humbled.”
“You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he says, keeping himself hooked to me via a one-armed hug. “Besides, I had to be a part of the buildup.” He winks at Ransom, who’s standing just behind me. “How’s it going, man? Welcome to the family.”
“Thank you,” Ransom says, pulling him in for a quick embrace and doing the same with Abbey.
“Captain! Bess, Nettie,” Abbey cries as both she and Parker offer up a warm welcome to them as well.
Parker casts a brief glance behind him. “We’ve got a little surprise for you guys, especially you, Ransom.”
“As long as it’s from you and not your father,” I say just as a tall, young girl with long black hair and glowing blue eyes steps out of the Cottage House and we all give a collective gasp.
“ Emerson ?” Ransom looks genuinely stunned as his only child leaps onto him and they engage in a rocking hug.
“She had fall break, too,” Parker says. He should know, he and Emerson began dating when they came on that cruise early last summer where we had all our kids join us. Bess’ granddaughter Kelsey was in that number as well and she’s still seeing Wes’ son Carter, and Abbey is still dating Wes’ other son Owen. Talk about keeping it in the family and among friends. And the entire lot of us couldn’t be happier.
“There’s my favorite niece,” Wes says as he steals a hug from Emerson next.
Wes used to be married to Ransom’s sister. It didn’t end well, thus the constant tension that’s more or less lived on between Wes and Ransom. But a few cruises back they sort of made amends.
I offer a firm embrace to Emerson next as do Bess and Nettie before we enter the Cottage House as a mob.
The polished marble floors, the chandelier up above that’s so big it could illuminate a city, all of the polished people—it’s all exactly the way I remember. In fact, it feels as if I never left.
Parker steals a kiss from Emerson and she does the same to him.
“All right, lovebirds,” Bess says, waving them forward. “Let’s keep it moving, Em, before your father implodes.”
We all share another quick laugh, sans Ransom, of course. He sort of grunted and groaned. As much as he loves Parker and Emerson together, Emerson is still very much his baby girl.
We step into the fancy restaurant that we’ll be dining at and the scent of a freshly grilled steak lights up our senses.
The Seabreeze dining room is bright and airy as the windows overlook the lush green of the golf course and the bay just beyond that. Classical music plays lightly overhead, and there’s a quiet elegance about the place in general.
We’re quickly seated at a large round table, and it’s not long before the chatter turns lively. There’s something about having my family all in one place that fills me with a warmth I can’t quite describe—and now I realize it’s like coming home in the truest sense.
“So, Parker,” Nettie says, her eyes twinkling as she leans across the table. “How’s England treating you? Getting into any trouble with the bobbies?”
I happen to know that bobbies are the Brit’s version of police .
“He better not be,” I chide as the waitress passes out menus.
Parker laughs, shaking his head. “Not yet, but I’m working on it.” He winks my way. “It’s great, though. The program I’m in is pretty intense, but I’m learning a lot.”
“And how’s the food?” Bess asks, wrinkling her nose. “I hear they don’t season anything over there.”
“It’s actually really good,” Parker says, grinning. “Besides, Emerson’s been giving me some food recs and sending me to the local pubs to check out their menus. I guess you can say she’s keeping me well-fed.”
The females at the table let out a collective coo.
“Someone has to keep an eye on his nutritional habits.” Emerson laughs and squeezes his hand. “He’d live on instant noodles if left to his own devices.”
“Hey, I’m a student. Instant noodles are part of the academic experience,” Parker says, and we share another laugh.
“Speaking of experiences”—Abbey says, looking my way—“I can’t believe Dad had the nerve to take this cruise with you—and with Neelie no less.” She rolls her eyes when she says Neelie’s name. “I’m just hoping this wedding goes off without any more surprises.”
Nettie laughs. “What, you don’t think exes and killers are part of the perfect wedding package?”
Emerson tips her head toward Ransom. “That’s exactly what I want to talk about next—killers. I think we’re up to half a dozen homicides this year. Uncle Wes? Dad? What the heck keeps happening on the Emerald Queen ?”