Chapter Seven #2
“Because,” Sonya said slowly, “she wants us—or at least me—to believe her power’s, if not unlimited, more than we can counter.”
“And she’d be wrong.” Picking up the sketchbook again, Cleo drew a quick sketch of Dobbs from memory. And managed to show the frustration as well as the madness. “Because she’s losing.”
“She’s losing,” Sonya agreed. “Every day we’re there, she loses a little more. Every painting of a bride we find and hang is a loss for her. Every room we use, another loss.”
“Hey, cutie.”
Trey turned Sonya’s head toward him, and kissed her.
“Smart women,” he said, “are so damned attractive.”
“She scares me,” Sonya admitted. “But—”
“You scare her right back.”
“Yeah. It’s good to know.”
“Another arrow in the quiver’s how I see it.” Owen jutted his chin toward the manor. “When we figure it all out, you’re going to put one right through her heart.”
“That’s the plan. She’s stopped.” Pleased, Sonya leaned back against Trey. “She ran out of steam, gave up, needs to recharge. Whatever, she’s stopped. Probably up there having one of her tantrums.”
And the thought of that pleased her even more.
They ate, lazed on the beach, and as the afternoon waned, stowed everything away to leave the quiet spot exactly as they’d found it. As they sailed, sliding along with other boats now, Sonya glanced at the manor from time to time.
But saw nothing except the great house on the cliffs.
They docked in the early summer evening, and made The Horizon shipshape before they stepped back on land.
“That was really wonderful.” In the truck, Sonya relaxed. “A perfect summer Sunday sail.”
“She’s got running lights,” Cleo pointed out. “Maybe a sunset sail sometime.”
“We could do that.”
“We could drop these guys off at my parents’, walk off our sea legs before dinner.”
“A man with a plan. Bay Arts is still open with its summer hours. I wouldn’t mind going in for a minute, getting a look at the new pieces Anna wants on the website.”
“Walking’s not shopping,” Owen warned.
“Often while walking, I find I might see something that says: Buy me!” Stroking the cat, Cleo smiled. “That’s not shopping either.”
“One step at a time. We’ll drop these guys off.”
When they reached the pretty Victorian, they found Deuce and Corrine in the garden sipping cocktails.
The dogs immediately made themselves at home, greeting their hosts, then wandering around the yard. The cat reserved judgment until Deuce walked over and gave her a long stroke.
She purred.
“She’s such a flirt.” Amused, Cleo stepped over to kiss Deuce’s cheek. “But so am I. Corrine, your garden’s so beautiful.”
“Next to my kids, my pride and joy. And don’t the four of you look windblown and sun-kissed. How about a cold drink? I’m having a Bellini, and Deuce is sticking with his G&T.”
“I’d love a Bellini.”
Echoing Cleo, Sonya held up two fingers.
“I could use a beer.”
“I’m with Owen. I’ll give you a hand, Mom.”
“As if I can’t put a few drinks together. I know you have plans for dinner, but I want to say I made a big bowl of pasta salad, and Deuce is grilling chicken.”
“Your pasta salad.” Owen pointed at Corrine, somehow elegant in her cropped khakis and pale blue T-shirt. “His grilled chicken?” Owen spread his arms, looked at the other three. “Come on, man.”
“And there’s a boule of sourdough made fresh this morning.”
“You guys can go on if you want. I’m sticking.”
“It sounds wonderful,” Sonya said. “If you’re sure you—”
“Settled. I’ll be right back.”
“You made her day.” Deuce looked after his wife, pushed back the brim of his ball cap over his gray-streaked hair. “She made that pasta salad—enough to feed an army—hoping you’d stay. And I’ve got plenty of chicken marinating because I hoped the same.”
He gestured to chairs on the generous back porch. “Let’s have a seat. How was the sail?”
“Couldn’t have been better,” Sonya told him.
“That’s good to hear. I thought I’d come by one day next week if that’s good for you. I have paperwork for you to look over and sign regarding the donations you want to continue.”
“You’re welcome anytime, paperwork or not.”
“Collin would be so pleased you’re doing this.”
He glanced back as Corrine came out with a tray carrying two frothy flutes and two pilsners.
“This is so nice,” she said when Trey got up to take the drinks from her. “Summer goes by so quickly, and we’re all busy. It’s nice to have an evening like this.”
“And your gardens are picture-perfect.”
“They do make me happy. I did have a thought about gardens. I’m not going to insert work into the evening.”
“It’s not work if you love it.”
Corrine beamed at Sonya. “It’s not, is it? I need to see the wardrobe before I make any real decisions.”
“Coming this week. I’d love to hear your thought.”
“I’m told you’ve not only maintained the gardens at the manor but added to them. With Cleo doing some yoga poses outside, my thought is the garden at the manor.”
“This is an excellent thought. The hydrangeas are really hitting gorgeous. And we have this statue. A goddess.”
Corrine held up a hand. “Shots of Cleo with the flowers and the statue in frame. Don’t hate me,” she said as she turned to Cleo. “I think a sun salutation, at sunrise, would be fantastic.”
Cleo winced, drank some Bellini. “I can take one for the team. But it better be an amazing yoga outfit. Got any ideas on those two?”
Corrine glanced toward her son and Owen, now talking baseball with Deuce. “Actually, I do have a few.”
By the time Deuce started the grill, Sonya had a picture in her mind of how to put it all together.
In his Bermuda shorts and Red Sox tee, he grilled vegetables and chicken. It seemed so strange to her that this man had knocked on her door on a cold winter’s day in Boston, and changed her life.
He’d helped her find family she hadn’t known existed, helped give her a home she’d loved from first glance—and included a centuries-old curse to break.
He was the father of the man she’d fallen in love with.
When he set the platter on the table, she smiled at him.
“Thank you. Not just for the meal, but for everything you’ve done for me.”
“You’re welcome, and it’s all been my very great pleasure.”
With the reviving weekend behind her, Sonya faced the workweek with energy. She put that to use first with a workout. Every time the servants’ bell rang, she chanted.
“Strong body, strong mind, strong spirit. I will kick your ass with all three.”
She showered, changed, then flexed her biceps in the mirror.
“We’ve got this.”
Mind, body, spirit united and focused, she walked into the library.
Then stopped at her desk when her heart took a quick leap.
She picked up the sketch, breathing slow as tears gathered.
Yoda looked back at her. If dogs could laugh, he laughed. He stood on his back legs as if ready to dance.
In the bottom left corner of the sketch, the careful printing read:
Jack
She had to swallow before she spoke.
“Well, this is wonderful. You really got him. The happy expression, the brindle coat, the squarish face, the weirdly cute proportions of those stubby legs and hot-dog body. Thank you, Jack. I’m going to frame this. I already treasure it.”
She turned it so the model could see the sketch.
“Look at you! Jack drew you. Aren’t you cute?”
Touched, grateful, she laid the sketch on the desk, and after Yoda wiggled under, sat and booted up her computer.
“Okay, Clover, I’m ready.”
Jimmy Buffett’s “Come Monday” started the day’s playlist.
“And that’s how we roll.”
She got two solid hours in before Cleo shuffled down the hall.
“Hold on a minute. I want to show you something.”
Cleo stopped. “Not a bad something, not before coffee.”
“No, not a bad anything.” Sonya took the sketch with her into the hall. “This was on my desk this morning.”
“Oh, Son! It’s so good, and how sweet is this? You have to frame it.”
“I will. And I thought I’d get him an art kit.”
“I could put something together, but a kit of his own’s even better. I love this, what a good start to the day. Owen said we’d get thunderstorms late afternoon.”
“How does he know?”
“He just knows. So I’m going to start on my summer edition of the tree out front, so I’m close to home. And I can’t believe I’m having a conversation before coffee. Bye.”
Since Yoda and Pye followed Cleo down, Sonya figured she’d let them out, and back in after she’d had her coffee.
She broke about noon for a Coke boost, a peach that tasted like summer, and some peanut butter crackers that tasted of childhood.
As she went back upstairs, she peeked out front. Cleo sat at her easel with Yoda napping nearby. The cat sunned herself on the seawall.
“And all’s right with the world.”
Seconds later, the doorbell bonged. Though Sonya’s stomach jumped, she faked a yawn. “Boring.”
Now banging joined the bonging, and she ignored it and walked back to the library.
“Getting under your skin, Hester?”
She considered that a small victory.
The little tantrums took energy, she thought, and she had no problem with Dobbs wasting hers.
She sat down at her desk to Twisted Sister’s “We’re Not Gonna Take It.”
“That’s right, we’re not.”
Her defiance meant ignoring the noise, and barely noticing when it stopped. She worked through the rumble of thunder, realizing she’d missed her afternoon walk.
She heard Cleo come in, and shortly after come up the steps.
“I’m in my studio for a while. Dinner’s salmon with rice and candied carrots.”
Eyes on her screen, Sonya shot up a thumb.
Before long, as the rain drummed, she heard the sound of the ball bouncing downstairs and Yoda scrambling after it.
Smiling, she thought again: And all’s right with the world.
It stayed right through the evening, into the next day and the next. Sonya considered the routine a blessing, and broke it only when the Ryder wardrobe arrived.
“Oh boy, oh boy!”
With Cleo out running errands, Sonya carried box after box to the library, and considered that made up for the workout she’d skipped that morning.
She opened, unboxed, considered, admired. Then sorted by names on the labels.
By the time she’d finished, she thought her office space looked like a high-end sporting goods store.
When she heard Cleo, she jogged down the stairs again.
“The Ryder stuff’s here.”
“Oh boy, oh boy.”
“That’s what I said!”
They carried groceries and flowers inside, put groceries away.
Then Cleo looked at the armloads of flowers. “Molly, would you please take care of these?”
Clover answered for her with the Beatles and “With a Little Help from My Friends.”
“Yes!” Cleo rubbed her hands together. “Let’s go! I’m dying to see my yoga outfit.”
“It’s really pretty. I should tell you they switched the idea of you lounging to sailing.”
“I’m fine with that.”
“With Owen, on The Horizon. I got the idea when he let you take the wheel, sent them a photo I took. Corrine can come up with something more clever, but that’s the idea.”
“I want to see the outfit.”
Cleo stopped at the library door and gaped.
“Holy shit!”
“I know. It took me forever, and I didn’t even unbox the sports equipment.” She pointed to the boxes beside the curving staircase to the second level.
“I’d say you should’ve waited for me to help, but I wouldn’t have either.”
“Your things are over here.”
“Shoes?” Cleo pulled the lid off a box. “Oh, look at these cute boat shoes.” And immediately took off her sandals to try them on. “Good fit, comfy, and they look good!”
She snatched up white pants cropped just below the knee, and being Cleo, stripped off her own to try them.
“And they fit,” she stated before pulling off her shirt to try on a tank with horizontal navy-and-white stripes. “I need a mirror.”
As she ran out, Sonya picked up her clothes and followed.
In her bedroom, Cleo turned in front of the mirror. “This works. I think I have to say it. I look shipshape.”
“You do. I told them I didn’t see Owen as a white pants sort of guy, so his are faded blue—bleached-by-the-sun look—and short-sleeved navy rash guard.”
“Show off those pecs.”
“You got it. Tan deck shoes. Now try this.”
“Yoga! Okay, love the color. Dreamy lilac. Long sports bra instead of a tank.”
“Show off those abs.”
Cleo changed, checked herself from every angle.
“It’s excellent, and I love the seamless tights. But I need a pedi—come close to matching the color—and a French mani. I’ll book it today.”
“They sent a yoga mat, too. It’s like a sunrise color—goldy-rosy. No pattern. They don’t want to detract from you, the garden.”
“This is a hell of a good deal for me.”
“Remember that when you have to greet the sunrise. Now take that off. I don’t want anything to happen to it before the shoot. Let me know when you’ve got your nails booked, and I’ll coordinate with Corrine.”