Miss Fortune (36 page)

What things? Dad asked.

Things, she said, staring into her wineglass.

Well, if they are the things I think they are, then maybe this is the point you should take the bull by the horns.

Meaning what?

Meaning, call him up and tell him to get over it.

She laughed. Seriously?

Are you kidding? Yes, seriously . He needs to know you havent already built the house with the picket fence and picked out the names of your children, but that you are a mature woman who wants to explore whats between the two of you. And if thats too uncomfortable for him, then better to know it now, right?

Wow. A mature woman.

Youve got a good head on your shoulders, Rachelthe business with the witchcraft notwithstanding, of course. If this guy has half a brain, hell understand. And hell know what a gem he has in you.

A gem ? What a funky dream this was turning out to be!

They talked for a long time until it was obvious Dad was tiring. Before he said good night, Dad grabbed her in a big bear hug, embraced her with a strength he did not look to have, and kissed her on top of her head. I love you, baby girl. More than youll probably ever know, he said.

Her vision was misty, but Rachel smiled. I love you, too, Dad. I always have. She waved her fingers at him as he started upstairs and wished hed hurry before she started bawling. When hed made it upstairs, she decided maybe he was right. Maybe she should grab the bull by the horns.

Maybe very slowly and prudently, she picked up the phone. Then instantly put it down. And picked it up again and dialed his number as quickly as she could so that she wouldnt chicken out. And then she stood there, listening to each ring, her heart pounding harder and harder and harder until at last his answering machine picked up.

Answering machine ! Crap!

She closed her eyes, tried to think, but the beep rattled her. Ah hi. Its me, she said, and punched herself in the leg for her timidity. Me, Rachel. Ah well, I am calling to say I missed you today, she said, remembering what Dad had said. Mature woman, too good for him . And Im sorry you didnt come, she added, opening her eyes and lifting her head. I was wondering if perhaps you didnt come because you were scared off by what I said. If that is the case, I would like to set your mind at ease. You have nothing to worry about, Flynn. I am all grown up and can handle it. I just hope that we can continue to see each other until you have to go or I have to go or whatever, because I enjoy your company, and well, and that , too so if you could please call me, I would appreciate it. If not I would like to say I really enjoyed meeting you.

She clicked off, and shook the phone to the ceiling. I enjoyed meeting you? she complained. But she was feeling a little lighter when she put down the phone.

Subject- Un. Bee. Leevable. From: lt; [email protected] gt; To: lt; [email protected] gt;. lt; [email protected] gt;

Hey. Happy Thanksgiving. So you will not BELIEVE

what happened. Dad came for Thanksgiving even though I sort of begged him not to, and guess what. He was NICE. I mean nice, as in very pleasant, very nice to my guests, and he did not criticize me even once in front of them or at all! PLUS he did not insult anyone! What is happening to the world as I know it? Ive been through some pretty strange full moons, but this one, like, takes the cake! Not only was he NICE, but he said he thought 1 was pretty and smart and had the world at my fingertips. [And then he told meGET THIS that he loved me. I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP . Apparently he and Mom are getting more than just marriage counseling. So be on the lookout for a person who looks like Dad but isnt realty him. All kidding aside, the new Dad is way better than the old. Its un-freakin-believable .

P.S. Thanksgiving was eventful. Did grandpa make his fried turkey again? That always makes me sick.

P.S.S. I dont think Ill be really busy anymore, so write me! Love you guys, Rachel.

Subject RE: Un. Bee. Leevable.

From: Rebecca Parrish lt; [email protected] gt;

To: Rach lt; [email protected] gt;

-

Hi Rach. We knew Dad was thereMom had said he was really starting to come around after weeks and weeks of therapy and that he was going to Providence whether you liked it or not. So we were wondering how it went.

Dads going to have to go in for surgery whenever they can schedule this one surgeon, and I can tell Moms really worried about it. Did he say anything?

Anyway, Rachel, you ARE pretty and smart and have the world at your fingertips and you are a colossal moron because you dont see that. So I am sure Dad was relieved when you told him that Myron is just a friend. Did you mention anyone else to him? Rebecca.

Hey, Robin here on Bees mail. Can you believe she still uses AOL? Anyhoo first of all, yes, Grandpa made his fried turkey again and almost sent all of us to the hospital. I think he must use all the oil in Texas to fry that damn thing. And he made his world-famous fried okra, too, only the okra were the size of baseball bats. Jake says I am paranoid, but I will not let my baby anywhere near his garden, because I am certain there is something very illegal going on out there. How can okra possibly get that big? Okay, so, about you not being busy anymorewhat happened? I thought things were going pretty well with you and mystery guy 1 and 2, or however many there are, seeing as how you never write and you STILL havent sent the book. Tell Dad we said hi and we love him, too, especially the new and improved him, although I will have to see it to believe it. And then write back and tell us what happened with the guy(s). Bee and I are sneaking out to get some vodka and a pack of smokes. Shes all nervous about the kids seeing us and thinks were going to hell for it, like thats news or something. Happy Thanksgiving, kiddo. We miss you!! TTFN Robbie.

Rachel made Dad a gourmet breakfast the next morning, thanks to the last of Dagnes eBay money. They talked about the househe said he intended to sell it as soon as she finished her dissertation and surprisingly, Rachel was okay with that.

She finally found the nerve to ask about his surgery. What sort of surgery is it?

They need to remove part of my colon. And maybe some other stuff, who knows. But I dont want you to worry about me. Ive come to terms with it, I think.

Dont say that, Dad, she pleaded. That sounds like youve given up!

I havent given up, he said with a reassuring pat. But its strange somehow, eventually, you do come to terms with it. He smiled, picked up his fork. This is damn good bacon, he said, changing the subject.

A half hour later, Rachel watched Dad get into the backseat of the car he had ordered up. He rolled down the window and waved. I love you, baby girl. You remember what I told you now, he said to her.

Like she could possibly forget this extraordinary Thanksgiving Day. I love you, too, Dad, she said, and waited until his car had turned onto Laurel before she wiped the tears from her eyes.

Subject: Thanksgiving

From: Aaron Lear lt; [email protected] gt;

To: BonBon lt; [email protected] gt;

Hi honey. When are you coming back to New York? Ive been doing some thinking, and I think you should sell the place in L.A. I know you probably wont like that idea, but the truth is, I just ache when you are away because I love you so much, BonBon. I know youre busy with the girls and the folks (glad to hear El hasnt killed anyone in the RV yet), but I wanted to let you know that the trip to Providence went really well. Our Rachel is a good girlno, shes better than that. Shes excellent. I am so proud, and honestly, I dont know why Ive been such a dick to her. But seeing her there in Providence and the way all those people love her, well I havent been fair to her. I think everything is fine now, Bonnie. I think I have mended that fence. And I think Im finally ready for the surgery. Love you. Call me. Better yet, just come home. Aaron.

WHEN Myron showed up for work at the RIHPS curator offices Friday morning, the head curator, Darwin Richter, poked his head out of his office and cheerfully called out to him, asking him to step inside his office.

Myron walked into the office with a smile that quickly faded when he saw the man sitting in the chair across from Darwin. Ah, hey whats up? he asked Darwin as he eyed Detective Keating, the senior investigator hed met with the Rhode Island State Police a few weeks ago.

Myron, you remember Detective Keating, dont you? Darwin asked as he eased his two-hundred-fifty-pound frame into his executive chair.

Myron cocked his head to one side, nodded thoughtfully. Sure, sure the thefts down at Newport. Did you ever find anything out? he asked, looking very concerned.

Not a lot, the detective said, coming halfway out of his seat to extend a hand to Myron. Were still nosing around, trying to get a handle on this catalog listing, he said, waving his hand at some imaginary catalog. This preservation business is a lot of work! But of course you know that, right? he asked with a chuckle. I mean, youre the one who gave us the catalog listing, remember?

Yes, thats right, Myron said, nodding eagerly as he came deeper into the room and took the seat that Darwin gestured to. That was a lot of work going through that list, huh? So do you have any clues?

Detective Keating smiled. Not yet. But youve been such a great helpwere going to need a little more of your help, if thats okay with you.

Sure! Myron said, leaning forward a little. Anything! Just tell me what you want me to do and I will make it a top priority. By the way, did we get you the names of the people who work in our properties?

Yeah, I think you got us all their names, thanks, Detective Keating said, and leaned over, pulled a file out of his briefcase and put it on his lap, then pulled a pair of reading glasses from his breast pocket and perched them on the end of his nose. He opened the file, looked at it very carefully. There were a couple of items on here that we werent able to locate, he said thoughtfully, squinting down at the file. Probably mislabeled, something like that. But I figured, if anyone knows where to find them, its Professor Tidwell. He looked up, smiled at Myron. You really seem to know your stuff!

Myron shrugged with a lopsided grin. What can I say? Im a history professor, so I ought to know my stuff! He laughed a little, exchanged a proud smile with Darwin.

And there are so many properties to keep track of! I could never be that organized, Detective Keating said with a shake of his head.

I guess anyone in the history business will tell you thats a prerequisite. You have to be able to organize a lot of information to make any sense of it. You learn that right off the bat in my field.

Right, the detective said, and smiled, Myron thought, a little smugly. So anyway, so far, weve been unable to locate a few of the items you had listed in the catalog as being present and accounted for. So were assuming they are around somewhere since they havent been reported stolen or damaged.

Probably misplaced, Myron said.

The detective looked up at him and laughed. So much for organization, huh?

Myron did not laugh, just stole a glimpse of Darwin from the corner of his eye. Too bad I cant be everywhere, or that everyone cant be as organized as I am, right?

Rüight , the detective drawled. So our first item is a pair of torcheresam I saying that right? Torcheres. Anyway, the catalog says these are circa eighteenth century French, bronze and partly gilt, approximately thirty-five inches tall.

Torcheres? Darwin echoed, and turned a puzzled look to Myron. Would those be the Gilles Joubert pair? From the Hamblen collection?

The catalog says Potter collection, the detective clarified.

Myron rubbed his palms on the knees of his cords as he thought about it. Must be Joubert, he said to Darwin, then to the detective, You should find them at the Lindsey House in Newport. These things get moved around from time to time, depending upon the exhibits.

Ill make a note of that, the detective said, and squinted at the paper again and shook his head. But they werent in the Lindsey House, either.

No? Myron asked, and looked at Darwin, shrugging. Maybe they were stolen. Id have to go back and check my records, but you know weve had the thefts down on the shore. I suppose I could have overlooked them.

Would you mind checking? the detective asked, his smile completely gone now.

Sure, no problem. Myron pulled a little notebook from his back pocket, made a quick note, and cleared his throat.

The second item, the detective continued, is a circa sixteenth century Venetian enameled and gilt-edged hand-painted fruit bowl.

Oh, yes, Myron said. From the Botwick House.

Except that its not at the Botwick House, the detective responded, and lifted his gaze to look directly at Myron. Amazing memory you have.

Not really. I just remember it from the forklift incident, Myron said, rubbing his palms on his knees again. It was one of the items we moved after the crash. Its probably just in a cabinet. Ill have a look tomorrow.

Thanks, Detective Keating said. Oh yeah, heres another a Joseph Badger portrait. The catalog says it is a ten-by-ten inch portrait entitled Colonial Woman .

Oh yes , Darwin said proudly. That is one of our very best examples of early American art, donated by the Pierpont family. Its in the Pierpont House, isnt it, Professor?

The Pierpont House? Myron asked, shifting his gaze from the detective to Darwin. I dont think so, he said, and winced inwardly at the sight of Darwins brows raising nearly to his hair.

Its not ? Darwin echoed incredulously.

There was a corner of it, Myron said, a smidge of the painting that needed restoration. Just a smidgenothing to diminish the value. So I sent it out for restoration.

Could you get it back? Detective Keating asked.

Of course. It usually takes about six weeks

I meant today, the detective said with a deceptively soft smile.

Myron laughed as if that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. Today ? I I, ah, I dont thinkThe thing is, I had another assistant curator handle it. I will have to ask him. And you know its really hard to get these things back in the middle of a restoration process.