The After House (13 page)

Remy turned to Hugh and grinned. “Thanks for the tour.”

“You didn’t get your nickel’s worth. Did I bore you terribly?” He smiled, moving closer to her. He brushed the hair from her face. Time stood still. The bell over the door tinkled in the silence, and the mood changed.

“No, not at all,” she said, meaning it. “I’ll come back with my daughter, Olivia. She’ll enjoy looking at the whale teeth.”

“Scrimshaw.” They both glanced back at the table filled with its collection of whale ivory painstakingly carved or etched with colorful scenes. “It really is fascinating. Did you inherit all of these?” Remy liked the way his face lit up.

“Only a few. The really bad ones.” He picked up a beautifully carved tooth filled with images of brave whalers chasing a huge beast.

“Why don’t you come for dinner at my house tomorrow,” Remy asked him impulsively. Hugh’s face brightened.

They exchanged numbers, setting up a time for the next day.

Remy left the church, feeling lighthearted, until she came upon the shattered glass on the walkway to her studio. Grabbing a broom, she swept it up, the bitter cold stinging her cheeks. She arranged for the window to be boarded and fought the feeling of uneasiness. It had to be kids, she convinced herself.

Hugh sat at his antique desk, a satisfied smile on those sculpted lips. He liked her—really liked her. Remy was hurting. He remembered the feeling, a tightness in his chest blossoming into a protective anger as he watched her struggle with her emotions. She was sweet and adorable. He had met her mother, Judith, recently. She’d become involved in his museum and was just elected cochair his charity for children’s cancers. Judith had pressed for him to meet her daughter, but he avoided it, eventually going just to fulfill his obligation. What was wrong with Remy’s ex? He felt all wired up when he was next to her and had to fight the feeling of wanting to take her in his embrace and whisper that the first one, that loser, was just practice. He knew from his own broken heart that when it finally heals, like a cracked bone, it mends stronger than before.

He never thought of Lauren anymore with anything but regret that it lasted as long as it did, and that they had continued to hurt each other so deeply. They weren’t right for each other, a mismatched set that never should have gotten past the first date. But somehow he felt deeply connected to Remy, as if he knew what was going to erupt from her mouth. Her hurt sizzled in his gut like a high-voltage wire. He wanted to help her but wondered how to start. The kiss was a good place to begin. He smiled. “It was interrupted,” he thought with chagrin.

He abruptly set down the pen he was holding. The bell. He glanced at the tiny brass object over the front door. It had chimed, stopping his seduction, but no one had come in. He glanced around the empty room, puzzled.

“Henry?” he asked quietly. No one answered.

urned out Molly loved yoga. She was slow moving, her thighs weak. She couldn’t stop talking, but she enjoyed the class. Since it was just the two of them, Remy allowed her to chatter away as she helped her with beginner’s poses. Molly knew everybody in town. She had lived here her entire life, never thinking she’d marry Sal Valenti, the owner of a little antique store on the corner.

“When we met, it was like magic,” Molly said, her face animated with happiness. “I had given up, you know. Thought I’d never meet the right guy.”

“But you’ve dated others.”

“Yeah,” Molly agreed. “I thought…well, I kind of had this thing for my partner.”

“Paul Russo?” Remy asked.

“Awkward,” she said in a high, singsong voice. “When he lost his wife, I figured that maybe he’d finally see me.”

“Did anything happen?”

Molly concentrated on moving into the pigeon pose. Remy got up to readjust her foot. Molly groaned.

“Oh, did I hurt you?” Remy asked.

“No, but I think I may have to spend the rest of the night here. I don’t know how I’m going to get up.”

Remy laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you.”

“I’m glad I met you. I think sometimes we meet people who become important in our lives, you know, like impact them. I met Paul and thought he was my soul mate. Clearly he wasn’t, because he led me to Sal. The office had a professional relationship with him when we hired him to stage homes. It was also because of Paul that I met Georgia. That sure as hell changed my life.”

Remy wanted to ask her who Georgia was, but the next class started filing in the door, and the discussion had to be left unfinished.

Molly struggled to her feet, then called out, “By the way, my friend Georgia would love to examine the house you’re renting. Can she come by one day?”

Remy was only half-listening, but she nodded. She had to collect the fees for the next group and add two more students to the roster. “Sure,” she said absently. “Call me, and we’ll arrange it.”

Her cell trilled from her desk, and Remy waved goodbye as she answered it. Her mother’s voice filled her ear.

“So?”

“Hi, Mom.” Remy decided not to share the fire in her studio with her parents. No reason to worry them unnecessarily.

“Did you meet him?”

“Who?” Remy asked.

“Yes. Did you have fun?”

“Mom,” Remy hissed. “What are you talking about?”

“Hugh. He told me he was going to visit you today. Did you meet him? Isn’t he cute? Did you do anything?”

Remy rolled her eyes, pausing for a minute, the happiness in her mother’s voice stopping the negative comment from springing from her lips. “Yes,” she said simply. “He’s very nice.”

“I knew you would like him! Brian,” she called out. “Remy liked Hugh.”

Remy heard her father yell, “Who?”

“Mom, stop. Please stop.”

“He’s mayor, you know.”

“Yes, he told me. Oh, people are filing in, Mom. I have another class.”

“All right, honey. I’m just so happy you finally met. I think…I think…” Judith paused.

Time stilled, Remy’s breath caught in her throat. Her mother’s eagerness infected her spirit, filling it with a buoyancy she hadn’t felt since Olivia was born. “Mom?”

“I know there’s something special there. Never doubt my intuition, Remy.”

“That’s a bit premature. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“I don’t know about that, dear. Once you know, you know.”

Remy hung up wondering if her mother knew something she didn’t.

It was dark by the time Remy finished her last class. She arranged Wednesday to be her late night at the studio, as Olivia spent Wednesdays and alternate weekends with Scott and Prunella. She had a text from Scott earlier and stared at the message miserably. He had a family thing tomorrow night and wanted Olivia to spend Thursday with them as well. She only had to reply if there was a
problem. Remy shrugged unhappily. She’d never make things difficult for her daughter and her father. It wasn’t in her DNA. She locked the door, scooting to her car, climbing over a small drift of snow. It was filthy outside, the wet snow making for treacherous driving conditions. She had ended class a half hour ago, did her accounting, and cleaned up the studio. One of the women offered to wait, but she insisted they all leave. It was Cold Spring Harbor, after all, she told them. Safest place on earth—until she moved into town, apparently.

It was freezing, the temperature dipping to subzero lows. The town was deserted, and for a minute, Remy shivered from more than the cold breeze coming off the bay. She whipped her head around, feeling as though she was being watched. The wind snatched her breath, and she gasped from the chill. The car was running, the snow a wet pile of slush sliding from the warmed chassis. She had a remote starter, a gift from her parents, so she could start her car from the confines of her home or studio and sit on heated seats. The lights flashed, the door alarm chirped, and she slid into the cozy vehicle.

Remy rubbed her hands together, then put the car into drive to take the short trip home. It was barely two blocks. She couldn’t wait for summer, when she would walk home. After she switched on the radio, the music played absently, while she went over her time with Hugh. Pithy remarks came to her, things she could have said to make herself more interesting. But she wasn’t interesting, not like him. Somehow the time had passed, and it looked like her lack of small talk didn’t affect Hugh. He
still seemed eager to see her again. Perhaps she worried too much. Maybe none of it mattered. “When you know, you just know,” she thought again, her mother’s words echoing in her head.

She pulled onto Main and came to the one light that bisected the town. Christmas lights winked in pretty patterns, outlining the faces of the buildings. She watched the wind send spirals of snow eddying on the blacktop. The car bucked as a gust pushed it, whistling through the crack of the window. It sounded like a deep moan. Remy rested her foot lightly on the brake, wanting to take off as soon as the light changed. When green bathed her face, she took her foot off the brake, ready to accelerate.

Dual headlights filled her rearview mirror. She urged her car forward. The car behind her was sitting practically on top of her rear bumper. “Asshole,” she thought. She raised her face and squinted. The bright lights were on. She pressed her pedal, speeding up, feeling a little trapped. The car behind her was traveling a bit too fast. She wanted to get out of its way.

The headlights came up so suddenly. They became large circles in her rear window. Remy bit back a curse, knowing she was going to be hit. Gripping the wheel, her knuckles white under her gloves, she punched the gas and floored the car, feeling the Ford Focus surge forward. She was so intent on getting away, she missed her turn and found herself heading directly toward Route 25A. She made a hard right and noticed the car was a beige sedan. Then she passed Cold Spring Laboratories and the fish
hatchery. The other car had barreled straight past her, its horn screaming. It barely missed the tail end of her car.

She went down a quarter mile, slowing to a crawl. Remy made a U-turn into a side street and stopped to catch her breath. Her heart fluttered against the walls of her chest. She reached down, pulling back her purse, which had fallen when she made the quick turn. She searched inside the voluminous bag, and her hand closed around her phone. She placed it in the console between the two seats.

Pulling back onto 25A, she drove cautiously toward Main. She made the left, her eyes opening wide when she saw the headlights coming up again at her fast. The car clipped her hard, throwing her compact forward. The steering wheel slid through her fingers, and her turn became sloppy as she tried to avoid smashing against a stone divider. Remy cursed. She placed both her hands on one side of the steering wheel, making the car swerve sharply. It jerked clumsily, and her head whipped as she spun on black ice.

Using her teeth, she frantically tugged off her gloves, one by one. She fought to steady the wheel, knowing the car was heading for the stone wall that bordered the incline to the inlet.

“Hard port!” She heard a man say from the backseat, of all places. Remy gasped, her startled eyes looked in the rearview mirror. Seeing a bearded man, she screamed, losing total control of the wheel. The other car came up fast and slammed into her right side, sending her into an
uncontrolled spin. Her back pressed into the seat as the impact sent her head connecting with the driver’s window.