Chapter 3
Dominic had not been what I’d expected. He dressed in a black button-down with black jeans.
His dark hair was pushed back away from a face that would make any woman swoon, with sparkling blue eyes and a dimple that showed in his five o’clock shadow when he smiled.
He brought me flowers and asked me to call him Dom.
He chatted with Aunt Jackie and Harrold about traveling in Italy and the best places to avoid the tourists.
He talked about literature, including Shakespeare and the classics, with Deek and Tilly.
He was the perfect dinner guest.
Until, to Lille’s and Jim’s dismay, Dom took a strong interest in Beth’s cult project. They talked long after the coffee and pie had been served. I’d pulled a chair close by, too, interested in the development of the book and what Beth had found since she’d last been in South Cove.
When dinner was over and most of the guests, including Dom and Lille, had left, Dom had charmed almost everyone in the house.
Except, I noticed, Greg. He and Jim were hanging out on the side of the yard talking.
Probably about Beth’s unreasonable demands for an actual life after they were married.
Lille had hung by Dom’s side most of the day, except when he approached me to help get food on the table and later to clear the plates so we could stuff dessert into our already full bellies.
Deek was helping in the kitchen, filling the dishwasher while I tried to find room in the fridge for the leftovers.
“Dom’s not exactly what I expected. I’ve heard stories about Lille’s boyfriend, but this guy is a dark romance hero just waiting to be redeemed by the virtuous heroine.
I’m kind of in love with him too.” He grinned at me. “In a totally non-sexual bromance way.”
“He is different than what I expected,” I said as I moved the olive jars to the back and pushed the plastic tub of mashed potatoes onto the shelf.
Greg’s family was coming for dinner tomorrow night before we went to Chip’s Bar for the dart tournament.
I glanced at Deek. “What are you doing for dinner tomorrow?”
“Probably grabbing some pizza from the winery before heading over to Chip’s.
I’m closing tomorrow, remember?” Deek handed me a storage bag he’d just put the leftover salad into.
“I’ll take some leftover pie if you want to get rid of it.
I’m working tonight and tomorrow before I go in.
Hopefully, it will be slow on my shift, since I’m on deadline for this book. ”
“I think the bookstore is in bad hands if it’s ever just you and me.” I tucked the salad into the veggie drawer and looked around the kitchen. The pumpkin pies and the rest of the turkey could go into Toby’s fridge in his apartment. I looked around but he was already gone. “Where’s Toby and Greg?”
“They had a call out.” Deek took an empty pie plate and put three large slices of pie on it, then covered it with aluminum foil. “Something about a domestic dispute?”
“Great. Probably about dinner or the football game.” I handed him a half-emptied tub of Cool Whip. “Take this. Are you sure you don’t want some turkey?”
“If I get hungry, I’m just across the street. I’ll let you know.” He wiped his hands on a kitchen towel and looked around the kitchen. “And with that, I’m gone. It will give you some time to chat with the dude’s family. Their auras are all kinds of messed up. Is there something going on?”
I didn’t want to air Jim and Beth’s dirty laundry, but again, Deek had seen the issue between them. Of course, the fact that they hadn’t said one word to each other the entire afternoon might have been a clue as well. “I’m sure they’ll work it out.”
Deek shrugged. “If you say so. Sometimes we have to make choices for ourselves rather than for other people.”
His words echoed the warning Esmeralda had given me earlier. Was this fight with Beth and Jim what she’d seen? I followed him out. “When was the last time you talked to your godmother?”
“Two weeks ago when she dropped off the key and a page of instructions on how to feed the cat.” Deek paused at the door and the sun shone on his now blue dreadlocks. “Why?”
“Just wondering if she got into New Orleans okay.” I tried to mask my question.
Deek shook his head as he left. “You’re a horrible liar. Thanks for the grub and for inviting me. This was better than I’d expected.”
I closed the door and turned to find Amanda staring at me, her arms folded. “Now what are we going to do to fix this rift between Jim and Beth?”
* * *
Beth and Amanda had gone Black Friday shopping first thing the next morning in Bakerstown.
I’d begged off since Tilly was the only one at the shop and we had a “buy one coffee, get one free” sale for all the Black Friday shoppers.
I knew Deek was writing, so I’d volunteered to do the shift.
And, as Greg had reminded me, it kept me out of the Beth-Jim argument.
As we cleaned up the leftover dinner, Beth came into the kitchen and took the drying towel from Greg. “Go talk to your brother. I’ve told him I’m going to this fundraiser tomorrow night with or without him, so he might as well come.”
Greg met my gaze.
“Don’t even think about it. You’re coming with me. Come hell or high water,” I said.
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded his head and then grinned at Beth. “See, King men can be taught some manners.”
“I’m beginning to think your brother is adopted,” Beth deadpanned as she took a pan from me.
After Greg left the kitchen, I dumped the rest of the plates into the soapy water. “I’m sorry you guys are going through this. Especially on Thanksgiving.”
“He thinks because it’s Thanksgiving I will come to my senses and agree with him.
” Beth smiled sadly. “I guess I think that maybe the same miracle will happen on his side. Maybe we aren’t the match I thought we were.
Maybe the only thing he saw in me was my name.
Funny he falls in love with two women named Elizabeth, isn’t it? ”
“Don’t give up yet.” I rinsed a plate and handed it to her. “Holding on for a miracle is always when the ending is the sweetest. He’s got to realize we aren’t living in the 1950s, right?”
Beth shook her head, setting the dried plate on the now clean table to put away later. “I’m afraid he’s stuck there. He wants a life like it was with his first wife, but I’m not Elizabeth. Or I should say, I’m not that Elizabeth. I shouldn’t be treated like I am.”
I washed a few more dishes, letting the emotion in the room calm down a little. Then I turned to look at Beth. “Have you told him that?”
* * *
Saturday night, Chris Aquilla came to the house, and with Beth, the three of us walked into town early to get the community hall ready for the dart tournament.
The town had set up a parking lot on a field near where the barrier closed off the road.
A few cars were already parked there, but not many yet.
Greg had promised that they would arrive right at seven with the toys I’d bought.
Amanda had echoed his promise, but from the look on Jim’s face, I wondered if I’d see any of them before the fundraiser ended.
My new family might just be a no-show to the fundraiser.
But I wasn’t going to worry about that yet.
As we arrived at the bar, the owner, Chip Morgan, was outside, hanging lights and garland across the front windows.
The adobe building had been built in 1922 and had an Old West facade, so adding modern lights and decorations made it look out of time and place.
But I had to admit, the grumpy bar owner was trying.
Chip liked things practical and useful. Red-and-green garland was neither.
He stepped off the stepstool and plugged in the lights.
The community hall across the street had already been decorated outside as Santa’s Workshop. We just needed to make sure the hall inside was ready.
“Oh, Chip, it looks magical.” Chris squeezed his arm as we looked at the front of the bar that now radiated a tiny bit of seasonal joy. Along with the neon beer signs that flashed different colors.
Magical was one word to describe it. Trailer trash holiday was another. But who was I to judge? Like I’d told the group on Tuesday, it was for the children. And Chris seemed happy.
Chip grumped as she kissed his cheek, his face turning even more red than the flashing lights. I was beginning to worry about his health. “You better get set up and start taking people’s money before they give it all to me for drinks.”
Chris laughed and herded us all inside the bar.
The bar was dark and the lack of seasonal decorations made the outside look positively cheerful.
I watched Beth take a step backward as she took in the two men at the bar who, from the bottles in front of them, had been here a while.
One tried to stand up and grinned at us.
“Wow, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” He peered at us, his eyes narrowed.
I wasn’t sure he could see if there were three of us or six.
“Roger, sit down and wait for your wife to come get you.” Chris turned us right, away from the bar and through a door. This room was bright. It must be Chip’s office.
“We just need to pick up the registrations and the cashboxes and then we’ll head across the street and get the hall open.” Chris handed each of us a file and a cashbox. Then she hurried us out of the bar and across the street. Apparently, she didn’t think Roger would listen. Or call his wife.
The hall had exploded with decorations. A tree twinkled in the corner, with toys already tucked underneath. A table was set up at the doorway with boxes behind it and three chairs. A line had already formed in the room, which held fifteen dart boards as well as high-top tables and chairs.