The Bride's Curse (24 page)

“It kind of depends, I think.”

“On what? I mean, do you still think about him?”

“Sure I do.” She smiled at the question. “I’ve thought about him a lot over the years, fantasized scenes about him coming to find me.”

Brett studied the wharf and the lobster boats with an unwarranted intensity. “Are they the kinds of fantasy scenes that would do Mimi L’Amour proud?”

She was fighting to keep a straight face now. “Actually, they usually start with him on his knees … ”

“I’m not sure I want to hear this.” Brett stood and went to lean on the white painted steel railing. The bright morning sun outlined his lean, muscular frame and his black jeans pulled tight across his butt as he propped his elbows on the cold metal. Kelly leaned back to admire the view. A seagull swooped down to catch the scrap of lobster roll he threw for it, its triumphant cry bringing a host of its brothers and sisters to beg and bluster for scraps, too. She got up and followed him to the railing, tossing a few more scraps to the birds.

“Yes, they start with him on his knees. Then I slowly undo my buttons … ”

Brett’s deep-throated moan sounded like a wounded animal.

“ … and I open my jacket ... ”

Now he stared fixedly at the pewter colored waves, but she could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard.

“Then … ” She paused, enjoying the tease. “Then I pull out my service revolver and shoot him in a variety of different body parts.”

Brett turned, his eyes twinkling. In a swift stride, he closed the space between them and pulled her into his embrace. After he claimed a deep, heated kiss, he murmured, “Well, then, I guess I just have to be glad you no longer have a service revolver.”

She stepped back and took a last bite of the lobster roll, smiling as his eyes watched her mouth, before replying, “What makes you think I don’t?”

• • •

The Atwell mansion seemed to have undergone some metaphysical changes since the day before, Kelly thought as she and Brett entered for brunch. The old house, which had seemed so cold, now had a completely different atmosphere.
Almost homely.
For one thing, there were two plump and fluffy marmalade cats sitting among the delicate antique crockery on the dining room cabinet. Obviously the kitties were among the “things” that Troy had needed to pick up from his house. Feeling guilty, Kelly phoned Noelia and asked her to look in on Sullivan and give him a little love. “He should have lots of food left in his dish, but I don’t want him to be lonely,” she explained after filling her friend in on the events of the previous day. Noelia agreed and sent her good wishes to the happy couple. “What an exciting story,” she said.

Brett was rubbing two pairs of feline ears. The purring rose to deafening proportions. “Aunt Mary never allowed cats—or pets of any kind—in the house. Said they were dirty, caused too much damage, and required too much care,” Brett whispered to Kelly. “As I got older, I began to think she was afraid of having anything around that she might get to love, in case it went away.”

Kelly squeezed his hand. “She loved you and Sasha.”

“We only came for holidays when we were kids. It was like she was borrowing us. I moved in after our folks died and then when I was eighteen, Auntie insisted I have the apartment so that I’d have privacy. I think it meant I wasn’t actually living with her.”

“But she let Sasha live here?”

Brett grinned. “Sasha is a force of nature. You’ve met her—she’s here and then not here, like a zephyr. And she and Aunt Mary had frequent spats. Sasha is hard to love.”

Kelly bit her lip. She’d thought Brett’s sister a spoiled, self-centered, ruthless brat, but now wasn’t the moment to start trashing his family. Especially as the spoiled brat in question had just wandered into the room. She wore a rich blue mini-dress that accented her fragile blonde looks and showed off her long, slender legs. Kelly wished she’d worn something more elegant than white capris and a blue and white striped tee shirt. Maybe she could get Mary to teach her a spell that would cause a big red zit to appear on the end of Sasha’s pert little nose …

“Brett! How are you, big bro?” Sasha air kissed her brother, sent a distracted smile at Kelly, and plucked up one of the cats. “Isn’t it wonderful to have these little guys in the house? I always wanted a cat, and now there are two.”

“Don’t get too fond of them, young lady. No doubt you’ll be off with another beau and heading for heartbreak again.” Mary Atwell issued the warning as she walked into the room.

Sasha’s face broke into a wide grin. “Oh, no, Aunt Mary. I’m sworn off men for good. You’re stuck with me.”

Mary responded with a “we’ll see about that” look. “You’re getting ginger cat hairs all over that pretty dress—which, by the way, is much too short.”

“Oh, Auntie, minis are back in fashion now. I bet you wore one way back in the seventies!”

“Never mind that. We’re not talking about me, now, you cheeky monkey.” Mary’s voice was strict, but Kelly was sure the older woman had a twinkle in her eye. She noticed that Brett’s aunt had dressed in a casual soft pantsuit in a lavender color that complimented her skin and eyes. The outfit was much different to the tailored skirts and twinsets she usually favored.

Mary hugged Brett and then turned to Kelly. “I want to thank you, Kelly—if it hadn’t been for you and your special gift, I might never have found such happiness again.” She directed a shy smile at Troy, who’d followed her looking ten years younger than the man they first saw standing at his father’s grave. He was relaxed in dark blue casual slacks and a cream fisherman’s sweater.

“You have a special gift? What is it?” Sasha asked, wide-eyed.

Kelly deadpanned. “I see dead people.”

“Oh. Whatever.” Sasha immediately lost interest and turned back to cuddling the cat.

• • •

Breakfast was a strained affair. Even Mrs. Patrowski seemed tense as she placed muffins, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and home fries on the table, enough to feed a small army, added a coffee pot, and escaped quickly from the room.

Mary insisted that there be no talk about the last several days’ events until everyone had eaten. Warm glances between her and Troy indicated that all was well with the happy couple, but everyone else ate in a tense silence after a few attempts at small talk.

Finally, Mary suggested they take their coffee into the small parlor. When everyone was settled Troy spoke for the first time, bolstered by Mary’s hand slipping into his. “I think it’s best if I tell you everything that had happened, why I … why I didn’t show up for our wedding all those years ago.”

“I’m looking forward to hearing this,” Brett said, his voice hard and earning him a sharp look from Mary.

“Me, too—I thought only creeps did something so unforgivable.” Sasha spoke up defiantly. “Honestly, Aunt Mary, I can’t understand why you—”

“That’s enough, Sasha,” Mary cut her niece off sharply. “Wait and hear what Troy has to say; perhaps then you’ll understand.”

Troy, looking pale and tense, got up and made his way across the room to the ornate fireplace so that he could stand like an actor on stage, easily visible to everyone in the room. “All he needs is a freaking podium,” Brett muttered under his breath. Kelly shushed him and shivered as if a cold hand touched her shoulder.

She should have known the Old Man on the Bench, a.k.a Peter the Friendly Ghost, wouldn’t miss this particular get together. She saw Mary shiver, too, and Troy looked momentarily distracted. She noticed again that he walked with a slight limp, although he seemed to be trying to hide it.

He took a deep breath, filled his cheeks with air and then blew it out with a sound like a sigh. “First of all, I want you all to know that I never intended to hurt Mary. I think I’ve been in love with her since she put paint in my hair during finger-painting in kindergarten.” He smiled over at her. “So, here’s the story of the biggest mistake I made in my life.

“Before the wedding, Peter Arnt—my best friend then, although I don’t know what I’d call him now … ” He paused, pulling down the rolled up sleeves of his sweater. “Is it chilly in here or is it just me?”

Kelly wondered how Troy would react if she told him his old and now ghostly best friend was standing right beside him and breathing chilly sighs as he reacted to Troy’s words.

“Anyway, Peter and I and a few friends from our classes at Harvard were having a kind of joint celebration. Finals were over and we were about to go out into the world and make our mark. I was going to marry the woman I loved. It seemed like everything was perfect and the future looked like more of the same.”

Brett pulled the letter he had received from Peter Arnt from his pants pocket and handed it to Troy. “We’ve heard some of this from Peter. I’m sorry to have to tell you that your old friend died shortly after he wrote this.”

Troy took the letter and unfolded it slowly as if he couldn’t bear to read the contents. He pulled a pair of dark-rimmed reading glasses from his shirt pocket. Tears stood in his eyes when he looked up after reading his friend’s words. Kelly was sure that the restless spirit standing next to Troy also wiped away a tear.

Mary crossed the room and handed Troy a glass of water. She gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek and returned to her seat.

“Thank you for showing me this, Brett.” He placed the glass down carefully on a small glass table. “In those days, drinking hard was a sign you were a man, and I wanted to be a man desperately. So I kept up with the guys and pretty soon was as drunk as a skunk. When Peter came up with that great idea—that we’d literally go out and paint the town, not just red but all the colors of the rainbow—well, it sounded like a real adventure.”

“What do you mean by ‘literally painting the town’?” Sasha asked.

“We got some aerosol paints in every color you could imagine, found us a large wall on the side of a downtown store and set to work.” Troy paused and took a deep drink from his water glass as if the telling of his story was parching his throat. “Somebody must have spotted us and complained to the police, because the next thing was, we heard sirens. I wanted to finish the words I was spraying—‘I love Mary,’ in multi-colored spray—and delayed leaving when the others ran off.”

“Oh, Troy—you did that for me?” Mary smiled, and then shot a hard glance at Brett who had snorted derisively.

“So you didn’t run fast enough and the police caught you. How did you wriggle out of that?” Brett questioned.

“That’s the whole point—I couldn’t. I was so out of it I didn’t even sober up until much later, so I don’t think I really understood what was happening when they put me in a jail cell. It didn’t hit me until I woke up in the drunk tank the next morning, feeling like hell. Then I saw the time and panicked, pleaded with them to let me get to the church for my wedding.”

Troy took another drink of water. Kelly could tell it was hard for him to go through these details in front of everyone, and suddenly found herself feeling sorry for the man. “Who hasn’t done something stupid when they were that age?” she whispered to Brett.

“I don’t know anyone who’d have done something like that right before their wedding,” he retorted.

Obviously Troy heard him because he looked Brett right in the eyes and said, “I know it was stupid. I’ve kicked myself a million times since for being so dumb. The police charged me with vandalism and being drunk in a public place. I kind of lost it then, shouting that I was getting married and needed to get out, which was even more stupid because then they told me to calm down or they’d book me for causing a disturbance as well. They didn’t have much sympathy for spoiled rich kids from Harvard who defaced the town with their crazy nonsense.”

In desperation, Troy had called his father to come and post bail but Mr. Matthews had no sympathy for his son. “He showed up after the wedding was cancelled, absolutely furious with me and saying I’d shamed the family name and that I didn’t deserve a wonderful girl like Mary.” Troy paused and bit his lip. “Mary was in pieces and her family had forbidden me to go anywhere near her.”

Behind Troy’s shoulder, Kelly could see Peter’s ghost looking paler than ever and very distressed.
And he should feel guilty
!

“Dad brought my enlistment papers for Vietnam and told me that the only way to redeem myself would be to go and do my duty for my country. If I didn’t, neither he, my mother, nor any member of the Atwell family would want to see me again.
Ever.
I said I needed to go and see Mary to explain, but Dad said the war would be over in a few months, that I could come back with some discipline and backbone, a better man. Maybe then and only then, might Mary consider seeing me.”

Mary used one of her tiny lace handkerchiefs to mop her eyes. “I knew nothing about this. It seems everyone else made the decision. I was too delicate to know any of it and so they ‘protected’ me. It was a huge mistake. Their misplaced concern made everything worse.”

Troy gave her a brief smile and continued. “As we all now know, that war didn’t end quickly or well. I was wounded a couple of times. The last time a land mine blew my foot off. Gangrene started to set in before I could get to a hospital, so they took off most of my leg below my knee and fitted me with a false limb. I can show you if you wish.” He moved to start rolling up his right trouser leg but stopped when a chorus of “No, really, that’s okay” sounded from his audience.

“Well, when you got back stateside, why didn’t you do something then? You must have known how hurt my aunt Mary would be because of you,” Sasha said. He looked gently at her.

“I was in the hospital for several months. It seemed to take a very long time for my leg to heal well enough to wear the false leg … and I was suffering from what is now known as post traumatic stress disorder. Back then, they’d started to call it Vietnam Syndrome.

“I was a mess. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to hold down a job and certainly something like the law, which would require a lot of people contact, was out of the question. I just couldn’t handle talking to people. Plus I had blackouts and sometimes flew into rages for no good reason. I sleepwalked and didn’t remember anything when I woke up. I seemed to be living on my nerves, hardly sleeping or eating, drinking too much. How could I go and see Mary in that condition?