Chapter Four
With her return to Columbus, Arden fell back into routine. Part of that routine included a monthly family dinner at her aunt and uncle’s. And that included a celebration of Zoey and Boone’s return from their honeymoon.
As usual, Arden came early to help cook.
“I was counting on you.” After a hug, Jen pulled back. Frowned. “Honey, you look tired.”
“I worked late the last couple nights.” And still, even with new locks and a dead bolt, didn’t sleep well in the apartment. “I’ve gotta roll when it does. Not working today, so I’ll have a fabulous dinner and go to bed early, or at least on time.”
“Good. Now, I want to hear all about your trip to New York. I feel like we haven’t really talked in weeks.”
“Things will slow down now. Sales are good—better than I expected, and truthfully, I really didn’t know what to expect. And though they’ve been cheerleaders, I think better than the publisher expected.”
“Then you, and they, didn’t expect enough. And you can tell me everything while you make scalloped potatoes. Yours are better than mine.”
They’d been one of her father’s favorites, and at twelve she’d wanted to please him, so she’d learned. Of course, when she hit thirteen he and her mother had become idiots, and often enemies.
She’d started the circle around that, and hadn’t quite completed it when she’d lost them.
“Dad loved them.”
“Always did. Our mom would make extra, but there were never leftovers when Evan was around. I wondered if you’d go over to Brooklyn while you were in New York.”
“No. I didn’t need to.” Arden got out potatoes, the peeler, sat to work. “But part of Brooklyn came to me. Kyra Brightstone, an old friend. We went to school together.”
“Oh, Arden, that’s just great.”
“It was … well, pretty much everything, Aunt Jen. After the signing, we went to this Italian place we used to hang out in, and we just picked it all up again. Like basically a decade hadn’t happened.”
“As real friends can and do. It’s good to hear that, Arden. I hope the two of you keep in touch.”
“We absolutely will. I told you about the podcast.”
“Yes, and we’ve listened to it. You were terrific. Smart, friendly, and just sassy enough.”
“She—Gracie—made it easy. The whole thing? The whole three days was like—almost—being someone else. I was in there, but gawking and stammering and stumbling. The rest was Author Arden.”
“That’s who you are.”
“Yeah, but most of the time I’m just Arden, or Writer Arden. It’s different. I like it, but it’s different. I also realized I was right about not moving to New York.”
Jen slid the pork roast she’d marinated into a baking dish. “I didn’t know you’d thought about doing that.”
“Thought about it. I had a whole bohemian Arden—bohemian-yet-sophisticated Arden—holding court. Probably in SoHo. In an art- and book-filled loft over a snooty coffee shop where people read weird poetry and had intellectual conversations over tiny cups of espresso.”
Jen snorted. “Yeah, that’s you, all right.”
“Yeah, no. I realized I wasn’t, and didn’t want to be, bohemian or sophisticated. And this trip reminded me. I really enjoyed my three days, but New York’s too fast and full for me at this stage. I need, and I want, a slower pace.”
“You, my darling, are anything but slow.” Jen put the roast in the oven. “I’m going to make that quinoa dish Boone likes so much. With the broccoli and cheese.”
“Sounds good.”
“I can’t wait to see them. They didn’t get in until late last night. Well, you know, you were on the group text. They sent so many fabulous pictures. Honeymoon in paradise.”
“The way the two of them glowed, you almost needed sunglasses to look at them. I’ve earmarked three photos, and still need to choose which one to have framed for them for Christmas.”
“Arden, it’s not even May.”
Arden shook her peeler in the air. “Preplanning eliminates impulse and panic.”
“Some of us like impulse and panic. And damn, that’s a good idea.”
“Who doesn’t like photos, especially when they look fabulous? I need to ask Zoey if she still has that one of us on spring break.”
“Don’t you have that framed, in your living room?”
“Did. I can’t understand why anyone took it.”
“Took it? Who took it?”
Arden didn’t bite her tongue, but she thought about it. She hadn’t mentioned the break-in, and wasn’t sure she intended to, ever.
She carried the peeled potatoes to the sink to wash.
“Somebody got into my apartment. I think—”
“Got in? Broke in? Well, God, Arden, when?” Alarmed, Jen put one hand to her heart while the other shoved at her hair. “While you were in New York?”
“No, just before that. I think it had to be kids. They took silly things. My hairbrush, an open box of pens, hand cream, things like that.”
“Did you report it?”
Arden got out the mandoline, a cutting board, and began to slice potatoes.
“Yes, and the police came. Not a lot they could do. I had the locks changed, added a dead bolt, but honestly, what they took wasn’t valuable.
The only things I really miss are that photo, my mom’s locket, and my heart-shaped earrings. ”
“Oh, Arden, your locket. I’m so sorry.” Crossing over, Jen wrapped her arms around Arden, swayed. “I know how much that means to you.”
“The police have a picture of it, so if it shows up…”
“I hate that this happened. I’m glad you weren’t there when it did, but I hate that it happened at all. And why are you just telling me now?”
“Because it was more irritating than scary, and we’ve all been busy. And I knew you’d get that look in your eye.”
“What look?”
“The worried-about-you look.”
“Worrying about you, Zoey, Travis, now April and Boone comes with my job description. Don’t screw with my job. Have you been seeing someone? Maybe someone who wanted some, I don’t know, souvenirs?”
“No. And no one had a key. The locksmith said the old lock was, well, crap. Now I have better. I honestly think it was a kind of dumbass scavenger hunt.”
“Maybe. Kids can be morons. And you’ve been front and center around here for a few weeks. But I don’t like it.”
“Neither do I. But they didn’t take the cash in my desk drawer. Took pens, but not cash. So what I think? They figured who’s going to notice or care if they can’t find their hairbrush or some pens? And if they do, how much would the cops push it?”
It helped Arden to think it.
“So a couple of teenagers—most likely—think, Hey, let’s break into that author lady’s place, make a bullshit list, and see if we find it.”
“Moronic but, as I’ve had experience with teenagers, not outside of the realm. But be careful, honey.”
“When am I not?”
“Be extra careful for a while.”
Arden had just put the casserole in the oven, set the timer, when the front door opened.
“Aloha!” Zoey called out.
They looked golden, Arden thought as Zoey put a lei around her mother’s neck, then one around Arden’s. Golden and glowing and next to giddy.
“We have one for everyone! And presents! And more pictures! Where’s Dad?”
“He’s over at Travis’s. They needed something or other installed, and he’s the man with the tools. They’ll be here soon. But we’re not waiting for him to open some wine! Oh, you both look … perfect.” Jen hugged them both again. “Just absolutely perfect.”
“We had an amazing time, in an amazing place.”
“We have jet lag from hell,” Boone added, “but it was worth it.”
“Sit, just sit. I’m going to open that wine. Then you’ll tell us everything.”
Zoey smirked, raised her eyebrows. “Everything?”
With a mom look on her face, Jen took out a corkscrew. “Up to an R rating.”
Doug came in, let out a whoop, then plucked Zoey right off her stool. “There’s my baby. She may be your wife, Boone, but she’s still my baby.”
“She’s my wife because she was your baby first, so I’m good with that.”
Zoey took out another lei, ringed it around her father’s neck. “I’m always going to be your baby.”
Arden saw Jen pause with the wine to brush away a tear.
Family, she thought. And when that door had brutally slammed on hers, they’d given her theirs.
Then Travis and April came in and made it complete.
Zoey presented more leis while Jen poured wine.
“None for me, thanks,” April said. “I’ll have some of Doug’s favorite ginger ale.”
“I’ll get that for you.” After giving April’s hand a squeeze, Travis walked over to take a glass from a cabinet.
He added ice, poured as Zoey began pulling out gifts that ranged from a grass-skirted dashboard dancer, to yarn for April from a Hawaiian sheep, to a South Sea pearl pendant.
Arden immediately exchanged her earrings for the plumeria-shaped dangles.
“We’re definitely going back.” Boone sipped some wine. “Everyone needs to see Hawaii at least once. When we’re in Oregon, it’s an easier flight, so you guys can come to us, hang for a couple days, then we’ll all go together.”
“You’d love it, Mom. Volcanos, rainforests, beaches, sunsets you have to see to believe. And, April, plenty of hiking for you.”
April smiled into her glass. “Well…”
“We actually have a little news.” Travis slid an arm around April’s waist.
They nodded at each other, spoke together.
“We’re having a baby!”
“Oh. Oh” was all Jen could manage as she set her wine aside to wrap her arms around April, then burrowed into Travis.
“A little news?” With a laugh, Arden rose to join the hug.
“I’m going to be an aunt.” Zoey bounced in her seat. “Dad, you’re going to be a grandpa!”
“I’m getting that. I’m processing that.” He shook his head, let out a baffled laugh before moving to his son for a hard hug. “Good work, kid.” Then folded himself gently around April, kissed the top of her head.
“When? God, my brain’s just fuzzed. When are you due? How are you feeling?”
“I feel great. I feel, I’m going to admit it, smug. No morning sickness—yet, which if it comes will pop that smug bubble. And I feel stupid happy. December second.”
“You’re going to be a father,” Zoey murmured as she took her turn burrowing into Travis.
“We should have champagne.” Tears flooded her eyes as Jen threw up her hands. “Doug, why don’t we stock champagne in this house?”