I hate that I could not wake up with you today and that we cannot spend the day together. Unfortunately, I will be trapped in meetings all day. Take some time to get comfortable in the house. Feel free to enlist Asta to help you gather the rest of your things, although I don't think you should bother with any pajamas - my shirts do the trick just fine. Expect some calls about some of the renovations at the farm. Next on their agenda is the house itself. I'll see you at dinner tonight.
Yours,
Alex
I found the note lying on his cold, empty pillow this morning. It was the latest I had slept in, in years, and my body had clung to the last remnants of sleep until I started reading. Even though I knew the note was part of the ruse, my heart still fluttered at seeing him call himself; mine. There was a part of me that wished this wasn't a fake marriage, and I didn't know how big that part was. That scared me more than anything.
Remembering last night's argument, he was right. The leather couch was not comfortable for sleep. Well, I am as stubborn as my father.
After getting out from under the warmth of the covers, the brisk morning air sent shivers down my spine as I went to the bathroom. I took my time showering and getting dressed. There was nothing particularly pressing that I had to do and nowhere to be. It was a feeling utterly unfamiliar.
“Well, good morning, my dear,” Asta greeted as I entered the kitchen. "I am glad that Alex is ensuring you stay well rested."
I blushed at what she was insinuating. Of course, to her, last night was our wedding night. That is what it would have been if we were a traditional married couple. I doubted anyone would suspect that we had stayed up late researching old boxes.
“Where is he this morning?” she asked, ignoring my red face.
“He had a lot of work to do today. He was in his office before I woke up,” I admitted.
"That gives us the perfect excuse to spend the day together, catching up on all our girl talk." She said excitedly as she slid a cup of coffee my way. "Now, I want to hear all about New York City."
I spent hours with Asta in the kitchen. We baked bread and pie, and I clumsily chopped vegetables as she made the rest of tonight's dinner. I forgot how much I loved being around her until this morning. Last night's awkwardness had melted away into easy conversation. She was what I had always pictured my mother to be like, and talking with her centered me.
"Well, it sounds like you had a grand adventure in the Big Apple. I hate that you had to come home for such a difficult reason. Your father was so proud of you, and I know he would be even prouder of you now."
Tears gathered in my eyes at her words. I felt silly as I tried to brush them away.
"He's been gone for almost five months, but it feels like no time has passed. All I could think about for days was him and our last memories together. I was haunted by regret and wished I had moved home sooner. And then Alex showed up, and the world seemed to spin again. I feel guilty for my life moving on without my father. I hate that he never spent time with me after I left."
"Oh, sweetie," Asta said, wrapping her arms around my shoulders tightly. "He would have wanted you to move on, and he would have loved Alex. I know it."
I squeezed Asta back before brushing away the stray tear that had managed to slip down my face.
“Enough of that,” I told her, waving away the sadness. “How have you been these past few months?”
“It was hard for a while. Losing Igor was no walk in the park. And then Lucas left Voss right after. It felt like all my family was gone. But he’s back, as is Alex, so my world feels full again. Plus, I’ve been able to help Lucas find work around town. You know, Alex is very generous to his employees. Working here has been a real game changer for Lucas.”
“I forgot that Lucas was working here,” I admitted, my stomach starting to twist.
"Oh yes. When Alex first showed up, the house was in such disarray that he even tried to pull some weeds himself. The business was always his strong suit, so I suggested he hire Lucas to do the renovations he wanted to be done. Lucas did all the landscaping, replaced a few windows, and painted some of the rooms; he even hooked up my new stovetop. I'd say it's been a real success."
Asta went on bragging about all the impressive work Lucas had done, but all I could think about was his erratic behavior the past two times I had talked to him. When Asta mentioned his job, like painting, a knot in my stomach fully formed. The library was painted.
“The library too?” I probed, trying to keep my tone light and unbothered.
"Yes! He painted the entire room, top to bottom. I think he also fixed some of the broken cabinet doors under the bookshelf. He gave the entire room a facelift. Alex was thrilled when he finished. He was always a resourceful kid, even if he had sticky fingers every once in a while. It was always to solve his problem, not that I condone it."
How long ago did Lucas start working on the lodge?
"About two weeks ago? No, it was three weeks ago because it took him a week to finish the work outside, and then he was given access to the rest of the house. I think Alex called it a 'trial run' or something."
And with that, the last piece to the puzzle fell into place. Feeling more than a little sick to my stomach, I excused myself from the kitchen and shut myself in the bedroom. I paced the room length as I tried to make sense of it.
If what Asta had said was true, then Lucas started working for Alex right after we all met at the cheese festival, but he wasn't allowed inside until after my dinner with Alex. I had wondered at Lucas' sudden onslaught of jealousy and how he insisted on barging into my house, but none of that had worsened until my first dinner with Alex.
And when they clashed at my house the other night, Alex's forwardness with Lucas reminded me that he was not talking to my friend; he was addressing an employee. With everything going on, I had not realized that Lucas might have played a part in the missing Snuff Boxes. But now I was convinced he was likely the person who stole the snuff boxes.
I stayed in the room for the rest of the day. I had debated with myself whether I should tell Alex what I suspected. Ultimately, I owed it to Lucas and our decades-long friendship to give him a chance to say he has nothing to do with missing snuff boxes - this is really what I hope my childhood friend will say. Despite this confidence, I was still anxious and heartbroken as the words of Asta's "sticky fingers" rang in my head.
