Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
H arper opened the door and smiled at Joyce and Beryl. “Hello, you two. Come on in.”
“Thank you,” Joyce said, brownies in hand. She and her sister entered.
Beryl’s head seemed to be on a swivel. “Isn’t this place lovely.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Harper said.
Beryl held out a bottle of wine. “A little something for you.”
“You didn’t have to do that. Joyce already made brownies. Come on upstairs and join the party.” Harper shook her head. “It’s not actually a party yet, but it will be now that you two are here.”
They followed her up. Willa was already off the couch, ready to greet Joyce and the much-waited-for pan of brownies.
“Thank you so much,” Willa said. “You’re the best.”
Joyce smiled demurely and gave her the pan. “Oh, it was no bother, pet.”
Frankie was still sitting, working on her tablet, but she looked over and smiled. “Hi, ladies. Nice of you to join us. We aren’t doing much, though. Just getting ready to watch some TV. There’s a new miniseries on Amazon Prime. It’s based on an Agatha Christie story. It’s a remake, but aren’t they all at this point?”
“I love Agatha Christie,” Beryl said.
Harper gestured at the couch. “Have a seat. Who wants a glass of wine?”
“And brownies!” Willa added.
Everyone’s hand went up. With a laugh, Harper nodded. “Coming right up. Keep your hand up if you want white. Okay, I’ll open a white and this red that Joyce and Beryl brought.”
She went into the kitchen, behind the island, and took out a bottle of white from the wine chiller. She motioned to Willa “Why don’t you cut those brownies and put them on a plate? We could put out some pretzels or something else, too.”
“We have those nice grapes you just bought. You did get that second bag for us, didn’t you?”
“I did. Get those out and let’s use those small plates in the second cabinet.”
“On it,” Willa said.
Harper worked on opening the wine and then pouring the right varieties for the right people.
Before too long, they had the coffee table covered with a stack of napkins, another stack of small plates, a plate of brownies, a bowl of pretzel sticks, and another of seedless grapes. Harper put a glass of wine in everyone’s hand then went back for her own. She loved that the big sectional couch had enough room for everyone, Archie included, although she moved him and his blanket to the far end of the middle section, because he was occupying some pretty prime real estate.
She took a seat beside Beryl, whose gaze was everywhere but the television screen. Harper leaned in. “Quite a house, isn’t it? I’m sure Joyce told you I inherited it from Arlington Marsh.”
Beryl immediately looked at Harper and nodded. “She did. You must have meant a great deal to him. What a lovely thing for him to do. He was a marvelous actor, wasn’t he? So handsome, too.”
“He was a great actor and an even better friend. Just a wonderful man all around.”
Beryl went back to looking around. “Did you redecorate? Or is this how it looked when he lived here?”
Harper gazed at the place. “I haven’t touched a thing, honestly.” There was no point in redecorating. The place was gorgeous. Harper couldn’t improve on it. And spending the money would just be silly. “Maybe I will someday, but I like it the way it is.”
“So do I,” Beryl said. “I can’t believe he lived here.”
“You want the tour?”
Beryl quickly shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“It’s not an imposition. Come on. You want to see the ceiling in the master bedroom. Trust me.” Harper tipped her head in that direction. “It won’t take long. Bring your wine.”
Beryl’s mouth bent in a shy little smile. “All right, then.”
Harper leaned forward. “Joyce, you coming?”
She got up. “I’d love to. Thanks for asking.”
Harper stood, looking at Frankie. “Don’t eat all the brownies while we’re gone. I’m going to give them a quick tour of the place.”
She led Joyce and Beryl down the hall, pointing out the laundry room, then into her bedroom. Archie came along so he wouldn’t be left out. He went straight to his bed and sat by Mr. Brown, looking happy to be a part of whatever was happening.
Harper stood out of the way, glad she’d made her bed. “The master bedroom. As far as I know, the decorating was all Arlington’s doing. He loved the water, loved boats, so it makes sense.”
“It’s beyond words,” Beryl breathed.
“It’s a little masculine,” Harper admitted. “But I don’t mind it one bit. I’ve come to really feel at home here.”
Behind the bed, the wall was painted like a night sky. Deep blue with constellations picked out in gold. Over the dark wood floor lay a thick rug patterned with medallions of blue and tan on a white background. The rest of the walls were white, as was the ceiling, where more gold constellations gleamed softly. The windows and sliding glass doors that led to the covered part of the deck overlooking the water were trimmed with sheer white curtains on brass rods.
A sturdy rattan armchair sat next to a big dresser painted in the same deep blue as the wall behind the bed. Antique maps, framed in dark wood and rattan, adorned the walls. The bed was dressed in white linens trimmed in more deep blue. Two squat, round ottomans woven from thick rope sat at the end of the bed. The chandelier over the bed was also made of rope and looked like it could have been taken from a pirate ship.
“I think it’s lovely,” Joyce said. “It suits the house, and it suits you. Doesn’t surprise me that you feel comfortable in this space.” She glanced at Harper. “I mean this very much as a compliment, but you have a good deal of masculine energy. You’re fearless and bold and you aren’t afraid to go after what you want.”
Beryl nodded. “Sailors used to use the stars to navigate. This is the room of someone who knows where they’re going in life. I don’t know you as well as my sister does, but her assessment seems spot-on to me.”
Harper had never thought about it that way. “I like that a lot. I don’t know if I’m always quite that fearless, but I do try.”
She showed them the bathroom, which was pretty impressive, then took them down the hall in the other direction. She stood at the office door. “Frankie’s been using this space a lot for her work. She’s an illustrator and she’s working on building her business now, as it’s her main source of income. She’s moved to the rec room downstairs to do some painting.”
Joyce nodded. “She did Lucas’s logo. And that darling portrait of Scout.”
“Oh,” Beryl said. “I saw those. She’s very good.”
Harper moved into the room and pointed out the watercolor on the far wall. “She painted that. It’s the Sojourner .”
“Just like the movie,” Beryl said. Her brows lifted. “Arlington won an Oscar for that, you know.”
“I know,” Harper answered. “That’s why I had her do it. I gave him that painting as a gift.”
“And he put it in this house for you to have.” Joyce clasped her hands together. “What a dear thing to do, knowing he was leaving this place to you.”
“It was kind,” Harper admitted. “We can go upstairs next, then we’ll take the elevator down to the rec room.”
Joyce and Beryl stepped back into the hall, Harper behind them. Just as they did that, a figure draped in a blanket knocked on the glass door that opened onto the breezeway.
Beryl screamed and clutched at her chest with one hand and her sister with the other, making Joyce jerk back.
Harper gasped, then realized who it was, and laughed. She guessed the blanket was Jack’s attempt to hide his face from the paparazzi. “It’s all right, ladies. Nothing to be afraid of.”
She opened the door and let Jack in.
“Sorry, didn’t know you had company.” He let the blanket fall around his shoulders and smiled as he saw Joyce. “Joycie! Hello, beautiful.”
“Jackson Marsh.” She smiled. “How are you, love?”
He dropped the bag he was holding to hug her. “Better now, man.”
Harper wasn’t surprised they knew each other. The Marshes and the Ripleys had been friends a long time.
“It’s lovely to see you” Joyce said. “Jackson, this is my sister, Beryl.”
Beryl had recovered from her fright and was starry-eyed and smiling.
Jack grinned. “Nice to meet you, Beryl. I can see the family resemblance. Are all the women in your family such knockouts?”
Beryl tittered and put her hand to her mouth.
Joyce tutted and shook her head.
Jack went on. “I was just coming to show Frankie how my knitting is coming along.” He looked over Beryl at Harper. “I didn’t know you had company, man. Sorry if I’m intruding.”
“It’s fine. Joyce made brownies for Willa, and we just sort of turned it into a girls night.”
“Cool, cool. I’ll get out of your hair. I don’t want to interfere with all those sweet estrogen vibes.” He glanced toward the living room. “Any chance I could get a couple of those brownies, though? Been a minute since I had some home-baked Joyce deliciousness.”
Joyce nodded. “I’ll have a word with Willa. If I’d known you were here, I would have made you something.”
Jack’s eyebrows lifted in hopeful anticipation. “Chocolate chip banana bread?”
Beryl spoke up. “I’d be happy to make you some.”
“Yeah?” Jack considered the offer.
Harper could only imagine how good that would be. “It does sound yummy.”
Joyce put her hand on his arm. “I learned all my baking from Beryl. Hers is better than mine.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible,” Jack said. He winked at Beryl. “But I’m willing to give it a try.”