Somebody to Love(38)

Dang, they were cute.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Lavinia said. “You meet my cousin? Parker, the happy couple.”

“Yep, we met,” Parker said, gratefully taking the cup of coffee.

“So when’s the wedding?” Lavinia asked.

“Two weeks!” Maggie said. “Malone already got the license and everything, because he wanted Emory to be here, of course.”

“Way to go, Dad!” a young woman called amid the hum of conversation.

“Think you could do the flowers?” Maggie asked. “Even with such short notice?”

“’Course I’ll do the flowers,” Lavinia said. “I’ll do them for free if Malone sleeps with me, just one time.”

Malone grinned but didn’t answer.

Maggie laughed. “I guess we’ll pay. I’ll come by this week, okay? It was really nice meeting you, Parker.”

“Same here.”

The couple moved on, as everyone in the place clearly wanted to hug and congratulate them.

“Nice,” Parker said. “Very romantic.”

“Ayuh. So. Welcome to town. Nice to meetcha. You saw your inheritance. What’s the plan?” Lavinia asked. She took out a cigarette, lit it and took a drag.

“No smoking, Lavinia!” Maggie called.

“Damn.” Parker’s cousin stubbed the ciggie out on her palm and tossed the butt out the window.

“Didn’t that hurt?” Parker couldn’t help asking.

“Naw. My hands are tough.”

Parker took another sip of the surprisingly good coffee. “Well, my plan is to…I don’t know. I thought I’d slap on some paint and sell the place, but I didn’t know how bad it was.”

“It’s a shit-snarl.”

“Yes indeedy.”

“Got enough money to really spiff it up?” Lavinia asked.

Parker paused. “I have a little. I don’t know how far it’ll go.”

Lavinia pursed her lips together, causing a hundred wrinkles to radiate from her mouth like anemic rays from a sickly sun. “I heard about your problems.”

“Did you?”

“Oh, ayuh. News travels fast. Especially when it’s on CNN.”

“Right.”

“How many years did your father get?”

“Six. Time off for good behavior.”

Her cousin grunted. “Deserved it, from what I hear. Sorry for you, though.”

“Well, it’s not so bad.” Besides, even if it was bad, she’d been raised not to discuss money, sex or religion. “So, Lavinia—”

“Call me Vin,” she said.

“Okay, Vin, um, how exactly are we related?” Parker asked. “We’ve never met, have we?”

“Nope. Your mother’s my cousin on the Harrington side. Althea and I, we spent a little time together as kids some summers, back when my father still owned the Point.”

“What point is that?”

“Douglas Point. The big place north of yours.”

“That was yours? You lived there?”

“Ayuh. Till my mother and father divorced. Then my father sold it a few years later.”

“Wow.” Althea had never said anything about summers in Maine.

Lavinia looked out the window. “So how is your mother these days? We didn’t really stay in touch.”

“She’s…she’s fine.”

“She ever remarry after your folks split up?”

Parker couldn’t suppress a smile. “Oh, yeah. A few times.”

Lavinia smiled back. “Is that right? Well. Tell her hello from me.”

Parker knew that the Harringtons originally harkened from Maine, but her mom had grown up in Westchester County, New York. Back when her parents were still together, big family gatherings had only included the Coven. No second cousins from the Harrington side had ever been mentioned; only those few awkward visits to Great Aunt Julia up in Boston.

“Got any help for overhauling the house?” Lavinia asked, interrupting Parker’s thoughts.

She took a deep breath. “Um, yes. A family friend.”

“Well, you’ll need it. God knows how long it’s been since the place was cleaned out. Julia stopped coming here probably fifteen, twenty years ago.” She squinted at Parker. “You need a job this summer? Make a little extra cash? I could use the help with Maggie and Malone’s wedding. Usually hire a high school kid part-time in the summer, but the job’s yours if you want it.”

Heck yeah, she wanted it. “Sure. That’d be great. Thank you.” Her first real job. Holy halos.

“Great. I gotta grab a smoke. Come by Wednesday. Three doors down. You can’t miss it.”

Lavinia left, and Parker glanced at her watch. She should get back to the shack, bring James some sustenance. Help clear stuff out. But maybe she’d call Nicky first. She glanced at her watch. He might be up. It was five-thirty in California.

Parker’s chest constricted. Nicky felt so far away—he was so far away. The fact that she hadn’t heard his voice last night, didn’t know what he’d had for dinner, hadn’t toweled off his hair after his bath…dang. Crying in a crowded diner full of strangers—not fun.