Chapter 2
Once at home, I reviewed my plan for the holiday weekend.
I’d taken Wednesday off to get ready for the big dinner.
I needed to clean the house as well as start some of the food prep.
According to Greg, Jim, Beth, and his mom should arrive later tonight.
They had rented a house for the week down Highway One.
Beth had told me she was spending as much time as possible on the beach between the time they landed at LAX to the time they climbed back on the plane.
I wondered if Beth would end up living nearby with or without Greg’s brother.
The phone call had only been to update Greg on their flights.
First up, I wanted to make pies. I didn’t need to make a lot, but I wanted to have leftovers after we packed everyone up on Thursday after the big meal. And there was nothing like pumpkin pie with whipped cream for breakfast.
Emma whined, staring at her leash. I already had the cookbook out on the kitchen table, waiting. “You want to go running?”
The joy in her bark was too much for me to tell her no. Besides, if I ran, I’d have more calories available for pie later. It had to work that way, right?
I went upstairs and changed from my work outfit to running clothes. Then I’d change into bum-around clothes when we got back. I just hoped we wouldn’t get an invite for dinner tonight, which would mean another outfit for the day. Seriously, I wasn’t that much of a girly girl.
Emma and I headed down to the beach. Esmeralda stood outside her house, packing a suitcase into her car. We crossed the street to see her. “Hey, I heard you were heading to New Orleans. We’ll miss you at the table.”
“I’m heading home to cornbread and oyster stuffing and pecan pie.
” Esmeralda closed her car door. “It’s funny, you don’t think about home until the holidays get close.
Then all you can think about is the food.
Nic’s place will be filled between his sister’s friends and strays and his own.
That family tends to collect people, like you do. ”
“I don’t…” I started thinking about Deek and Tilly coming to dinner. “Okay, I’ll give you that one. But I can’t deal with people being alone on Thanksgiving. Besides, we’ll have way too much food.”
“Well, I appreciate you taking care of my godson. I invited him to come with me, but he turned me down. I swear Rory never got the importance of holidays and home. When Deek finally does marry, he’ll be living in that house on the corner that has way too many lights and a small town of inflatable cartoon characters on the lawn. ”
“I love that image of him.” I laughed at the visual. “You’re probably right. Anything you need me to do?”
“Deek’s babysitting Precious and will be staying here, so I’m good.” She leaned in to hug me. “Have a wonderful Thanksgiving, Mrs. King. I’ll see you next week.”
Then she froze, staring at me. Her hands gripped tighter on my arms.
“Esmeralda? You better get going if you’re going to make your plane.
” I didn’t like the look in her eyes. I’d seen that look before.
Esmeralda was not only the town’s primary dispatcher for the police and fire department, but she was also a fortune-teller or psychic.
Maybe medium would be a better title. She’d found her talent in the streets of New Orleans as an orphan.
Now, she saw clients in her home and had a strong business of repeat customers.
She also said I had a bit of the sight as well. A talent I’d never seen in myself.
The freaky thing was, Esmeralda’s predictions were often right.
Her friend, Rory Kerr, Deek’s mom, had her own fortune-telling shop in Bakerstown. And Deek saw auras. Most of my friends were normal. Esmeralda and Deek were just a little more on the woo-woo side of the scale.
She blinked several times, then dropped her hands to her sides. “Jill, I need to tell you something, so don’t freak out.”
“When do I ever freak out?” I asked. I didn’t like where this was going.
“You’re going to have to make a choice soon. It’s going to be hard and you must make the right one.” She bit her lip. “I hate it when the spirits don’t give me what I need to make a clear statement. But if I get anything else, I’ll call you. I promise.”
A chill traveled down my bare arms and I didn’t think it had been caused by the wind that whipped up at that moment. I heard Emma softly whine. “Tell me it’s not Aunt Jackie.”
Esmeralda took her keys out of her purse. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any specifics—just this feeling. Please be careful over the next few days. I’ll call when I get into New Orleans to check in.”
I watched her drive away and wondered what the spirits had seen in my future. Emma nudged my leg and we headed down to the beach and our run. An activity that I hoped would clear my head of this nagging feeling Esmeralda had given me.
It could work.
* * *
Wednesday afternoon, the house sparkled, the laundry was almost done, and three pies sat on the counter, cooling.
Emma had spent most of the sunny day outside sleeping on the back deck but now she stood at the screen door, smelling the baked goodness that filled the kitchen.
There was nothing like baking a pie to make a house feel like a home.
Greg had gone to work this morning. I’d gotten a few calls from Tilly at the bookstore with questions.
She hadn’t wanted to bother Deek, who was writing before his afternoon shift.
Besides, he wasn’t upstairs in his apartment.
I’d seen him walking down the street with his backpack and a duffel last night after he’d closed the shop.
He was babysitting Esmeralda’s cat and her ghost friends.
I’d been focused most of the day on clearing my to-do list. I had cleaned and changed the sheets in the guest bedroom, just in case.
The in-laws, as I liked to call them, had arrived yesterday evening and had promptly invited us to dinner at the seafood restaurant on the highway for tonight.
Which changed the timeline on my to-do list. But I’d gotten it all done.
Now I had a little time to read while I ran the good china through the dishwasher. Greg had power-washed both decks last weekend and several boxes of new outdoor lights sat on a table on the front deck.
Before collapsing on the couch, I let Emma inside and checked my list one more time. I was done. I pushed the pies away from the edge of the counter as I looked around my clean kitchen. The turkey thawed on the counter since it was still frozen after being in the fridge for two days.
My phone rang.
“Hi, Aunt Jackie.” I sat down at the table, moving the book I’d been planning on reading closer. It could be a short call.
“I’m just checking in to see if there is anything you need me to do today.” My aunt assumed I’d forgotten something. Sometimes she was right, so I let her go through her list.
“Floors, bathroom, kitchen, all cleaned,” I said as she listed off all the areas that might need extra polish.
“What about the tree? Are you going fresh or artificial?”
“We’ve got a fake one this year. Greg and I agreed we’ll have a real one on alternating years.
” I hadn’t realized how stuck each of us had been in our traditions until we’d moved in together.
And now that we were married, Greg voiced a stronger opinion about how we should decorate.
He’d let me think I’d won the argument years ago until he was fully vested in the relationship.
And he’d asked for me to buy whole milk instead of two percent.
If these were the only compromises I needed to make, we’d be just fine.
“You don’t have boxes in the living room, do you?” My aunt sounded horrified.
“No, they’re still in the den. Don’t worry so much. I’ve got it under control,” I said as I glanced through my list one more time. My aunt made me second-guess myself.
“Okay, so you have appetizers to serve when people get there. And a pickle plate?”
“Chips, dips, bacon-wrapped water chestnuts, focaccia bread,” I listed off. Then I realized what else she’d said. “What’s a pickle plate?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve made one and will bring it. It has pickles and olives. I’m bringing a crab dip and a few boxes of crackers as well. Are you serving wine with dinner? White and red?”
“Yes on the wine, but I only bought white,” I said as I started writing things down for next year’s list.
“I’ll bring a couple of bottles of red.” My aunt paused, then added, “Lille’s bringing a date. So there will be one more person at the table.”
“That’s fine.” I thought about the list of food I already had people bringing. “We should still have enough. Who’s her date?”
“I have no idea.” My aunt sniffed so loud I heard it over the phone. “I just hope he owns something besides worn out jeans and T-shirts to wear.”
“We’re not that fancy over here.” I laughed as I imagined my aunt’s look of horror. “Although I am dressing up for dinner tonight at SeaShore with Greg’s family. Seriously, who is Lille dating?” My aunt had to know since Lille would have told Harrold. And Harrold told Jackie everything.
“You’ll find out tomorrow.” My aunt always had the upper hand. “Go finish getting ready for the dinner. I’m sure there’s something else on your list.”
Then she ended the call.
I glanced at the list and then at the book on the table. “Why, yes, Aunt Jackie, there is one last thing on my list. Reading until I have to get ready for dinner.”
I grabbed the book and a cookie I’d brought home from the bookstore and headed to the couch with Emma in tow.
* * *
Thursday morning, I turned the alarm off and covered my head with a pillow, hoping to delay getting out of bed. For at least a day.
“We have people coming over. You need to get up,” Greg’s voice called from the doorway.