Page 70 of Unpacking Secrets
And for what? To frighten me away? Send me packing back to Minnesota?
I allowed anger to comfort me in the face of loss.
When I came downstairs, Henry’s eyes widened at the expression on my face. I gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him against me.
“I take it the shower did you some good,” he ventured.
“I’m pissed,” I said in a low growl.
He lifted a brow as I claimed his mouth, pouring all of my raging emotions into the kiss, but he accepted everything I had to give, offering back something soft and sweet that I couldn’t examine too carefully just yet.
After several long minutes, I released him. For the first time, he was the one to look a little dazed and off balance, but his resulting grin comforted me.
“Well then,” he said lightly, “let’s go.”
The Zorattis lived in a tidy brick colonial about five miles from the inn. Lewis was a handsome, broad-shouldered man approaching fifty, sporting a full head of black hair peppered with silver. He clasped my hands in his as he gave me a warm, beautiful smile.
I was immediately charmed. It was easy to picture a young version of him with my mother—they would have been beautiful together.
“Oh, I’m sure everyone in town has been raving over your resemblance to Nan with that coloring,” he said gently, “but you look just like your mother.”
I jerked in surprise, but Lewis shook his head at my expression of disbelief and offered another sweet smile.
“Aside from the hair, you could’ve been her twin. Same big blue eyes, cute little nose, mouth made for smiling. She was a real beauty, just like you. I was truly sorry to hear about her passing, Juliet.”
Though Henry looked ready to jump in at the first sign of tears, I felt calm, serene almost. That connection to my mother filled me with joy, despite the darkness in the day’s beginnings.
“Thank you,” I said softly. “That means a lot to me.”
His wife, Anne, poured us all some lemonade as we sat down at a table on the patio. She echoed her husband’s sentiments as she handed me a glass.
“You’re a stunner, just like your mama,” she said with a smile. “Melissa and I had a strained relationship, I’m sorry to say. Frenemies, you might have called us. But she was remarkable, so vivacious. This town was a little too quiet after she left.”
“We heard there was a bit of trouble over at the inn last night, is everyone all right?” Lewis asked.
Henry squeezed my hand under the table. I bit my lip and let him answer for us both.
“There was a fire at Nan’s cottage. No one was hurt, but we’re not sure about the extent of the damage yet.”
Both of our hosts looked horrified by the news.
“Oh, now that is a damn shame,” Lewis said, shaking his head. “If you need any help with rebuilding, please let me know. I’m a contractor by trade. I’d be happy to help you with anything you need, anything at all. I have a lot of fond memories around the cottage and the inn—Missy and I were playmates long before we ever dated. That place means a lot to me.”
I couldn’t speak around the sudden lump in my throat, but I managed a wobbly smile and a nod of thanks.
We all sipped at our lemonade for a moment, then Henry drew a breath and bit the bullet, surging forth to get the real reason for our visit out into the open sooner instead of later.
“In Nan’s journals, she mentioned someone by the initial T, someone who spent a lot of time with Melissa. Do either of you happen to know who she might have been referring to?” he asked them.
Lewis rubbed his jaw thoughtfully and shook his head. Anne, however, shot her husband an apologetic look before she answered.
“Yes,” she said, dropping her voice a touch. “His name was Tom, I can’t remember the last name. Started with an H. Heller? Holler? Something like that, I think. He wasn’t from around here.”
I leaned forward. “Does he still live in Spruce Hill?”
“Oh no, he left town not long after Missy did. Lewis and Missy were dating, but . . ." She waved a hand as though that explained everything.
“We weren’t exactly exclusive,” Lewis put in, seeing my baffled expression. “Missy wasn’t the type to settle for one person, not back then anyway. We went to dances together, the movies on Friday nights, that kind of thing. I knew she was seeing other guys, but she never rubbed my face in it. I was half in love with her anyway, so I was willing to take what time she would spare for me. She even sent me a letter, right after she left town.”
