Big Summer(95)

“Don’t worry,” he said, and smiled. “I promise that I’ll share my juice box with you.”



* * *




The café had a handful of tables in the back, with white-lacquered chairs with green cushions. It smelled like sugar and butter and coffee, and was quiet, except for the hiss of the cappuccino machine. We found a table and, without thinking, I pulled out my phone. “Sorry,” I said when I realized what I’d done.

Nick held up his hands. “It’s fine.”

“It’s just that I haven’t posted anything since—well, since—and I have contracts with these companies, and—”

“Daphne,” said Nick, “don’t apologize. It’s your job. I get it. It’s fine.” I nodded and bent over my phone, steeling myself before I opened my email. Already, a few of my clients had reached out, mixing condolences with ever-so-gentle reminders that I needed to start posting again. I began scheduling content for the coming day, then the coming week: posts for Alpine Yum-Yums, for Leef, for the Yoga for All yoga mat. I’d grabbed just one sad picture of the mat on Cape Cod, unrolled on my deck, before the deck had turned into a crime scene. And what was I supposed to say? Great mat; bad weekend? I finally arrived at, I hope this beautiful shot of a fabulous yoga mat above a beautiful beach inspires you to get your beautiful self moving today. I added the appropriate links and tags—#plussizefitness, #plussizeyoga, #everybodyisayogabody—and scheduled the post to go up in four hours, when the company’s research indicated that the largest slice of mat-buying browsers was online.

I’d moved on to the pet treats when Abigay sailed through the door, dressed in a gray pleated skirt and a black silk blouse. Her broad face was a little more lined and creased, but her smile, when she saw me, was just as welcoming as I remembered, from that first day I’d gone to Drue’s house and asked for peanut butter and apples for a snack.

“A terrible t’ing.” Abigay hugged me, pulling me tight against her, then holding me out at arm’s length. “It’s good to see you again,” she said. “You holding up?”

I said that I was and introduced Nick. His mouth quirked up when I said, “Nick is a friend of the family.” Abigay sat down after checking the time on the slim gold watch with a rectangular face that was clasped around her wrist. “A going-away present from the Cavanaughs,” she said. “See?” She removed it and passed it across the table. The metal still felt warm as I read the engraving on the back. To our Abigay, who has been part of the family, with love and thanks.

“It’s very pretty.” I wondered how Abigay felt about our Abigay, and the part of the family bit; how many hours she’d spent away from her own family, her own children, in service to the Cavanaugh kids.

“Yes indeed,” she said, her expression still neutral.

“What can we get you?” Nick asked. After some coaxing, she asked for a latte, and I asked for Earl Grey tea. Nick went up to the counter. Abigay settled into her chair with a sigh.

“It’s nice to see you, but I don’t know how much I can help. I left the Cavanaughs three years ago. With both kids mostly out of the house, and with the missus on those juice diets, they barely needed me at all.”

Nick came back with our drinks and a plate of pastries. “It all looked so good,” he said. When Nick set Abigay’s latte in front of her, she took a sip and set her cup back in its sauce with an expression suggesting that she could have done better.

“Did you and Drue keep in touch after you left?” I asked her.

Abigay made a face that was almost a smirk. “What do you think?”

I sighed. “Not to speak ill of the dead.”

“Oh, go on,” Abigay said. Her voice still had that familiar musical quality, every sentence rising and falling like a song. “Tell the truth and shame the devil; that’s what my mama used to say.”

I cleared my throat. “From what I saw, she wasn’t very nice to you.”

Abigay tapped her tongue on the roof of her mouth, considering. “Well. It wasn’t a question of nice or not nice. Miss Drue wasn’t very anything to me. Or to Flor, who cleaned, or Delia and Helen, who came to do the flowers, or to Ernesto and Carl down in the lobby. She didn’t see us.” Abigay clasped her hands on the table. “Which was to be expected. As the twig is bent, so is the tree inclined. Drue and her brother saw the way their parents treated the help, and they treated us the same.”

“I remember her asking you for ridiculous snacks.”

A brief smile flickered across Abigay’s face. “That used to be a game. When Drue was little. She’d say, ‘Abigay, make me a castle,’ and I’d make her one, with pineapple cubes and marshmallows. Or, ‘Make me a tree with snow on top,’ and I’d give her broccoli with parmesan cheese.” She sighed, then nibbled the miniature biscotti that came with her drink. “She was a sweet little girl. A long time ago.” She took another sip. “Maybe that’s why it didn’t fuss me, her asking me for ridiculous foods. I could still see that little girl inside her.”

“What happened?”

“She grew up. Grew up and got beautiful and discovered that she was rich. That, and she saw how her folks behaved.”

I stirred sugar into my tea and held the cup, letting it warm my hands. “Do you have any idea who could have wanted to hurt her?”