The burnt orange sunrise

CHAPTER 8

“This is absolutely the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had in my life,” Des exclaimed, because it absolutely was-hot, strong and flavorful. She gulped it down gratefully as she huddled there next to the stove in her big coat, both hands wrapped around the mug for warmth.

Jory had gotten two big kettles of bottled water up and boiling on the kitchen’s battered old six-burner propane stove, enough to fill a pair of Melita drip coffeemakers and a ceramic teapot for Ada’s Lemon Zinger.

“Coffee always tastes better when it’s cold out,” she said, smiling faintly at Des.

“Not to mention cold in,” added Hannah, who was lending Jory a hand with breakfast.

Actually, Des had barely recognized Hannah without her bright red lipstick and jaunty beret. She also had on a different pair of glasses-slender, contemporary wire rims instead of those heavy round ones she’d worn last night, when she’d seemed to Des like an effete, rather useless trendoid. But stripped of her war paint and Left Bank costume, Hannah looked a lot more useful than she’d first appeared. Narrow-shouldered, yes, but broad through her hips and flanks, with strong wrists and large, knuckly hands that were no strangers to scullery work. She also seemed a good deal younger to Des, not so much a polished young professional as a college girl with chapped lips and a pink runny nose.

“I hate being cold,” Hannah confessed, shivering in her navy-blue pea coat. She lit a match to another burner and began laying strips of bacon out in a well-worn cast-iron skillet. “I hate it more than just about anything.”

“Once a stone house gets cold, it stays cold,” said Jory, who had on a bulky ski sweater, a down vest and fleecy sweat pants. Her curly ginger hair was gathered into a top knot. She seemed very in charge of things in Norma’s absence. Her bulldog jaw jutted with determination. Her eyes were still puffy and red, though. She’d done a lot of crying after they’d found Norma. “And it’s way hard to warm it back up. I must be wearing six layers.”

“I’d settle for one pair of long Johns,” Des said.

“I can loan you a pair of mine,” she offered. “They’d be too short, and kind of huge in the waist, but they’d keep you warm.”

“I may take you up on that,” Des said, glancing around at the kitchen as she drank her coffee.

Astrid’s Castle had two kitchens, actually. There was the one they were in, a homey old tiled farmhouse kitchen, with its double porcelain sink and six-burner range. There was a long cluttered trestle table where the innkeepers grabbed their meals and did their paperwork. There were windows over the kitchen sink. Through them, Des could see across the frozen courtyard to the caretaker’s cottage. A door led directly out to the courtyard. Next to the door was a gun case.

Des went over for a closer look. There were two deer hunting rifles in it, a Remington Model 700 bolt-action with a side-mounted thumb safety and a Winchester Model 70 Classic. “Do much shooting up here?”

“We find it necessary from time to time,” Jory answered cautiously. “We get foxes and coyotes. City folks with small children don’t much care for those. A few years back we even had a bobcat. We always make sure the case is kept locked, and Les keeps the ammunition upstairs.”

“He’s the hunter?”

“No, Jase is. But Les likes to join him. It makes him feel like the lord of the manor or something.”

A mudroom was just off of the old kitchen. There was a deep work sink in there, jackets on hooks, work boots, a five-gallon bottled-water dispenser. The service stairs ran their way through the mudroom-the narrow staff stairs up to the second and third floors as well as the steps that went down to the wine cellar.

The second kitchen, which had been added on in the past few years, was a charm-free stainless-steel restaurant kitchen designed for high-volume, high-speed output. It had multiple stoves and prep stations, a walk-in pantry and freezer, a separate entrance for kitchen staff and deliveries.

This kitchen was not in use. Not a soul was in there.

“When we just have a few guests, we do breakfast ourselves,” Jory explained, her gaze following Des’s. “The kitchen staff doesn’t arrive until later. Of course, today they won’t be coming at all. I thought we’d do a big breakfast, get some fuel into everyone. Eggs and bacon, a big pot of oatmeal, bread and jam. Sound good?”

“Like heaven,” said Des, helping herself to more coffee.

“I agree,” Hannah said as she turned the bacon, which was starting to sizzle and smell sensational.

Jory got a box of Irish oatmeal out of the cupboard and put another pot on the stove. “One good thing I can say about Astrid’s is we’re always prepared for bad weather. Plenty of food and clean dishes, plus we have gallons of bottled water. That’s all we ever pour at the table.”

“You folks have trouble with your well?”

“Not usually, no,” Jory said, filling an eight-cup Pyrex measure from the water dispenser. “But the coliform bacteria can get a bit iffy during the rainy season, and you don’t ever want to send sixty paying guests home with a dose of the trots. You can’t afford to take that chance. It’s like Norma always says…” Jory’s voice caught, the emotion welling up in her. “Every guest is our most important guest. Which reminds me. Is Mitch on any kind of a special diet?”

“Yes, he is. It’s called the I Never Get Full Diet.”

Jory let out a soft laugh. “And how does he take his eggs?

“Any way you cook them, as long as they’re good and hot. Mitch hates cold eggs, especially if they’re scrambled. He’s been known to hold forth for twenty minutes on the subject of cold scrambled eggs and how they taste exactly like… Damn, will one of you kindly stick a fork in me? I’m starting to sound just like June Cleaver.”

“You are not,” Hannah said. “You sound sweet. I wish someone knew my likes and dislikes that well. I wish someone cared.”

“Me, too,” sighed Jory. “That’s all I ask for. A man who cares.” She stood there with her brow furrowed, taking stock of their progress. “Let’s see… bacon’s going good, and the oatmeal won’t take long once this water’s boiling. I’ll slice up some bread. We can scramble the eggs last, okay?”

“Anything I can do to help?” offered Des.

“We’re on it,” Hannah said briskly, breaking the eggs into a bowl as she tended to the bacon.

“You seem very at home in a kitchen.”

Hannah let out a horsey bray of a laugh. “I should. I started waiting tables when I was sixteen. I’ve worked short-order, slung beers. You didn’t think I was some rich kid, did you? Because I am totally not. My dad works for the U.S. Postal Service. Mom’s an OR nurse at Bethesda Medical.”

“Is that right?” Des took a seat at the table, keeping her company.

“And do you want to talk lack of cool? When I was at Georgetown I lived at home in my same old room in my parents’ same old tract house in Falls Church. Commuted to and from campus every day in my ten-year-old Honda Civic. Even so, I’ll still be paying off my student loans until I’m forty. Not that I’m complaining, but nothing ever comes easy for me. Just the good Lord’s way of testing me, I guess. Like after I got Coffee Klatch made, you know? I figured it was all going to be lollipops and balloons. Development deals left and right. I was applauded at Sundance, you know? But you girls can’t imagine how hard it is out there in Movietown, U.S.A. How ambitious everybody is. How deceitful.” Hannah shook her head as she stood there turning the bacon. “When my internship ended, there was nothing. Nobody wanted me. I was desperate to stay out there, but I couldn’t afford to. Before I knew what hit me, I couldn’t even scare up my rent money. So I came home with my tail between my legs, moved back in with my folks. I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do until I met Aaron. He’s been the answer to my prayers. Working with Ada this way is such an incredible opportunity, and Aaron’s been… you wouldn’t believe how sweet he’s been.”

“Well, you are doing him, right?” Jory said. More a statement than a question.

Hannah whirled, gaping at her in shock. “You just said what to mer

“Sorry, I guess that came off a little blunt. But we don’t have any secrets in this kitchen. Long-standing castle rule.”

“You could have warned a person. And why on earth would you…?”

“I saw you two sucking face on the observation deck yesterday.”

Hannah reddened immediately. “Oh…”

“As did Carly,” Des said. “She mentioned it to me last night.”

“This is awful, just awful,” Hannah gasped, horrified. “I feel like some kind of steamy Jezebel. And I’m not, I swear. I’m a deeply religious person, and nothing like this has ever happened to me before in my whole life. It’s wrong. I know it’s wrong. It’s just that we’re so, well, good together.”

“You’re actually into him?” Jory seemed flabbergasted. “I figured it was strictly business on your part.”

Hannah said, “Look, I feel kind of funny talking about this, okay?”

“Sure, whatever.” Jory’s pot of water was boiling now. She dumped in the oatmeal and started stirring it. “I’m not judging you. We all do what we have to do. Besides, it couldn’t happen to a nicer girl. This is me being facetious.”

“You don’t like Carly?” Des asked her.

“What’s to like? She treats people like dirt. Yesterday morning, she ordered me to iron her silk things for her-like I’m her personal maid or something. Who the hell does that old bitch think she is? And who does she think she’s fooling? She’s got so much collagen in her face you can practically hear it sloshing around in there. She didn’t so much as thank me when I did do her ironing for her, let alone tip me. Just looked right through me. Take it from me, that woman has zero class. We see all kinds of millionaires up here, heads of big corporations. The ones who have real class treat our staff with respect. They treat everyone that way.” Jory glanced at Des uncertainly. “You must know what I mean, being resident trooper in a snooty place like Dorset, and a woman. And, well, you know…”

“Black? I absolutely do know what you mean.” Des was starting to like Jory Hearn. She was frank. She had brains. She had pride.

“Aaron told me that he and Carly have an open marriage,” Hannah blurted out suddenly. “That she’s cool with him seeing other women.”

“That’s sure not what I was hearing from her last night,” Des said. “She was talking divorce.”

“Carly’s going to divorce him?” Hannah’s tongue darted out of her mouth, wetting her flaky lips. “Man, I really stepped in something smelly, didn’t I?”

“That all depends on how you want things to turn out,” Des said.

“More than anything in the world, I care about getting Ada Geiger down on film,” Hannah said firmly. “And that’s the truth. But she doesn’t seem at all interested, and it’s pretty obvious that Aaron doesn’t have much influence with her. It’s dawning on me that this may not pan out for me professionally. And that really, really bites, because it’s awful tough out there right now in the cold cruel world.”

“I sure don’t know what we’ll do,” Jory chimed in gloomily, stirring the oatmeal with a wooden spoon. “This place has always been home for both of us. Norma treated us like we were her own children. Now what? Who knows what’ll happen to the castle? I’ll get by, I guess. But Jase has a hard time in the outside world. The poor thing’s so quiet.”

“I’m sure you’ll both have a place here with Les,” Des said.

“But what if Les decides to sell out?”

“Then you’ll move on, and survive.”

Jory folded her arms in front of her chest, hugging herself tightly. “Sorry, I don’t mean to whimper. I just feel like my whole world is falling apart.”

“It’s changing,” Des said. “And you’ll keep changing with it. The day you stop doing that is the day you end up like that nice lady in bed upstairs.”

“It’s a little scary,” Jory confessed.

“Get used to it,” Hannah said. “I’m scared every minute of every day.”

“You are?” Jory looked at her in surprise. “How do you deal with it?”

“Not very well, apparently. But I keep on going.”

“Just forget about the big questions for now, Jory,” Des urged her. “Focus on small steps. Right now, we’re making breakfast. Later on, we’ll do lunch.”

“That reminds me,” Jory said, nodding her head. “When Mitch was getting his coffee he started talking about making us a giant vat of something called American chop suey.”

“That’s my doughboy.” Des smiled.

“I’m not even sure what that is. Any idea what’s in it?”

“Trust me, girl. You don’t ever want to know.”

Compared to the kitchen, it felt practically tropical in the taproom. A kerosene space heater was putting out genuine warmth, and a fire was crackling in the fireplace. Les and Ada were seated at a table before the fire with Aaron and Carly. Teddy was off by himself in the Sunset Lounge, playing a slow, painfully heartfelt rendition of “More Than You Know.”

“Breakfast will be ready soon,” Des announced softly.

“Thanks, Des,” Les said distractedly, running a hand through his uncombed hair.

“Does Teddy have to keep playing that same damned song?” demanded Aaron, the only one of them who was not clad in something warm and fuzzy. He was dressed as he’d been last night, in a crisp dress shirt, bow tie and blazer. Apparently, he never wore anything else. Aaron’s unshaven face offered the only hint that this was not a totally normal morning. His stubble was white, in sharp contrast to his jet-black hair and eyebrows. Des couldn’t help wondering if he dyed them. “He’s been playing it over and over again.”

“Leave him be,” commanded Ada, who still had on her wool robe. “The music soothes Teddy.”

“Well, it’s driving me nuts. And it’s my mother who’s dead and I think I deserve a little consideration.”

“Acky, shut up,” snapped Carly. She wore her mink over a bulky white sweater and stirrup pants. Her long blond hair was pulled back into a tight pony tail, and she had on no makeup. Compared to the blond bombshell of last night, Carly looked not only older but surprisingly plain.

Aaron glared across the table at her, his nose twitching. “What did you say to me?”

“She said shut up.” Ada calmly sipped her herbal tea. “And that goes double for me. Show some consideration.”

“For what?”

“Other people’s feelings,” she replied, her eyes glinting at him like hard, precious gems.

Des stood there thinking that this shrewd old lady did know about Norma and Teddy.

“Why don’t you join us, dear?” she asked Des graciously. “It’s so nice and toasty here by the fire.”

“Thanks, I think I will.” Des pulled up a chair and sat, her muscles feeling stiff and shivery from the cold. The bright morning sunlight had dimmed. The storm clouds were moving in.

“Aaron, there’s something serious we need to discuss,” Les said uneasily. “It has to do with how Norma wanted to leave things.”

“Do you mean her estate?” Aaron arched his eyebrow at him.

Les nodded. “Our attorney here in town, Whit Conover, drew up an agreement when she and I got married. Did Norma ever discuss it with you?”

Aaron shot a curious glance over at Carly before he said, “Why, no.” His manner was very guarded now. “Why, Les, was she supposed to?”

“She was, yes.” Les sipped at the dregs of his coffee. “She promised me she would. I’m surprised she didn’t, given the state of her health. Then again, I guess she didn’t want to think about it. We never do, do we? I feel I ought to fill you in now-in my capacity as executor of her estate.”

“You re the executor?” Aaron appeared thrown by this. “How can you be? Surely you’re the beneficiary.”

Les shook his head at him. “Six years ago, when things were starting to get serious between us, Norma sat me down in this very room, poured me a Scotch, and said, ‘Lester, you may want out when I tell you what I’m about to tell you.’ Christ, I thought she was going to tell me she had incurable insanity in her family.”

“Oh, she does,” Ada said. “Most assuredly.”

“She simply wanted me to know that when she died, Astrid’s Castle would pass to you, Aaron. She and her brother, Herbert, agreed ages ago that that’s how it would be-they’d leave it to their children. Herbert never had any. She had you. Therefore, you now are the sole proprietor of Astrid’s Castle.”

“Oh my God,” Carly whispered, flabbergasted. Des would have paid cash money to see the expression on her face. Too bad Carly couldn’t formulate one. All she could manage was a stricken blank.

As for Aaron, he was goggle-eyed, his face drained of color.

“This was understood between us from the get-go,” Les explained. “Whit drew up a pre-nuptual agreement specifying it, and I was happy to sign it. It didn’t matter to me. She mattered.” He glanced at Aaron curiously. “You didn’t know this?”

“Les, she never said one word to me about it,” Aaron said huskily. “I just… I assumed you would be taking over. Frankly, I thought that’s why you married her.”

Les bristled, greatly offended. “Thanks a lot, pal. It’s nice to know what you think of me after all of these years.”

“Forgive me for being honest, Les,” Aaron said. “If you’d rather I lie to you, I certainly will.”

“I’d rather you go screw yourself.”

“Look, I am aware that you were very fond of Mother,” Aaron acknowledged, retreating somewhere over near the neighborhood of an apology. “I didn’t mean for that to sound so harsh.”

“No, I’m sure you did,” Les said angrily. “You’re known for choosing your words carefully. Hell, you’re goddamned famous for it.” Les got up and went over to the window, his shoulders noticeably hunched. In mourning, the ruddy innkeeper seemed older and frailer. “I simply wanted you to know that I’d be happy to stay on in an employee capacity, if you wish,” he said, gazing out at the frozen river and the snow-capped hills of Essex beyond. “I’m sure Jory and Jase would like to stay on, too.”

“Les, it’ll be months before Norma ‘s estate is settled,” Carly pointed out. “Aren’t we getting a bit ahead of ourselves?”

“Not if Aaron wants to keep the inn open while we’re in probate,” he replied. “Our food and liquor suppliers will have to be taken care of, our kitchen staff paid. We’re running a business here.”

“Well, I certainly don’t wish to run it,” Aaron said loftily.

“Like I said, I’m happy to stay on,” Les persisted. “But I can’t access the inn’s accounts without some form of temporary legal authority. We have to sit down with Whit and draw up an agreement.”

“Les, my mother is dead upstairs,” Aaron said frostily. “I don’t wish to talk about food and liquor suppliers right now, okay?”

Les held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Fine, some other time. But if it’s not soon then I’ll have to contact the guests who’ve booked reservations and tell them we’re shutting down.”

“Do not try to strong-arm me,” Aaron warned him.

“I’m not trying to strong-arm you, Aaron. I’m simply explaining the reality of our situation to you so we can deal with it responsibly. This mattered to Norma. It mattered a great deal.”

“Relax, Acky.” Carly reached over and patted Aaron’s hand. “Les is just as upset as you are.”

“I should think more so,” Ada said. “After all, he’s the one whose life has been turned completely upside down.”

“Wait one second…” Aaron said suddenly, his eyes narrowing at Les. “It just occurred to me what this is all about. You’re afraid I’m going to sell this place to some big hotel chain, aren’t you? And then you’ll be out of a job and a home. That’s what this is really about, am I right, Les? Tell me I’m right.”

Les refused to respond. Just moseyed over to the pool table and rolled a ball against a cushion, watching as it caromed back toward him.

“I have no intention of selling Astrid’s Castle,” Aaron assured him. “Mother would want it to stay in the family. As far as I’m concerned, you can continue to run it for as long as you choose.”

“Thank you, Aaron,” Les said faintly. “That’s good to know.”

“After all, I happen to enjoy a seven-figure income,” Aaron boasted. “It’s not as if I’ll need the money anytime soon-or ever, for that matter.”

Ada let out a heavy sigh. “Dear Norma was right. You are very young, Aaron.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded.

“It means, dear boy, that it is always a mistake to predict one’s own future. Because if you can imagine it happening, if it is rational and makes good sound sense to you, then that is not what will happen.”

Aaron frowned at her. “What will?”

“Life will.”

A life, Des reflected, in which Carly might very well decide to hire herself that shark lawyer and divorce him, in which case she could end up with the seven-figure income he so enjoyed. Hell, she might even end up with Astrid’s Castle.

Des heard some polite throat clearing and turned to find Jory standing there in the taproom doorway, an ingratiating smile on her face. Des wondered if she’d been there long enough to overhear that Aaron would be the new lord and master of Astrid’s Castle.

“Les, I’ll be plating breakfast in five minutes,” she informed him, her pink-cheeked face betraying not a thing. “And, believe me, the food won’t stay hot for long.”

“Thank you, Jory. You’d best let the boys know, too.”

“Hannah’s outside fetching them.”

Now Des heard the stamping of feet out in the entry hall and the resounding echo of husky male voices.

Hannah appeared behind Jory in the doorway. “I encountered very little resistance when I said the words ‘hot’ and ‘food,’” she reported.

“I believe I shall dress,” Ada announced, getting slowly to her feet. “I can’t stand to eat in my bathrobe. It’s a detestable habit.”

“Don’t take too long, Ada,” warned Jory as the old lady wafted past her. “Or your food will be ice cold.”

“Feel free to start without me,” Ada said with a dismissive wave.

The rest of them started out of the taproom in the direction of the dining hall, where the lumberjacks were trying to warm themselves before a roaring fire, all three of them looking frozen and starved. With his full beard and stocking cap, Jase looked as if he’d just wandered in from the Great North Woods. He also gave off a noticeably gamy odor.

“Hey, Master Sergeant,” Mitch exclaimed, his frigid hands held out toward the flames.

“Back at you, Mr. Bunyan.”

Teddy wandered in as well, furrows etching his long thin face. He seemed lost in his grief, very far away.

“I think I’ll go upstairs for a minute, too,” Hannah decided. “Try and do something about my face.”

“Good,” barked Ada, who was gliding toward the stairs. “Without your makeup on, you look as if you belong behind the counter of the Burger King.”

Hannah immediately rolled her eyes at Jory.

“I saw that, Hannah,” Ada snapped at her.

“Aha, so you do know my name,” Hannah said, pursuing Ada to the stairs.

“Of course I do. What I don’t know is why the hell you were hired. Pick up your feet when you walk, girl. You tromp around the house like an army of Huns.”

“Yes, Ada.”

“And stop crowding me, will you? I cannot abide hoverers.”

“Think I’ll clean up myself,” said Spence, following them up the stairs.

“You I don’t like, period, Mr. New York Office,” Ada growled at him.

“What on earth did I do?” wondered Spence, bewildered.

“You smile too much,” she told him as they disappeared upstairs. “Every studio man who ever stole money from me just smiled and smiled.”

Aaron stood there in the dining hall doorway, shaking his large head. “I would not have thought this possible, but I swear she’s getting nastier.”

“That’s just her grief talking,” Teddy said quietly. “The old girl doesn’t mean one word of it. Just give her some space.”

“Fine by me,” Aaron said. “She can have as much space as she wants.”

Jase moved over next to Jory and spoke to her, his voice a faint murmur, his eyes cast shyly down at the floor.

Jory listened to him intently before she turned to Les and said, “Do you mind if I serve Jase, too? Our stove out in the cottage is electric, and the poor thing’s famished. He can eat out in the kitchen with me.”

“Nonsense,” Les said. “He’ll eat with us in the dining room. You both will. You’re family.”

“That’s very kind of you, Les,” she said. “Sweetie, could you maybe wash up a bit? There are some Handi Wipes out in the mudroom. I’ll show you, okay?”

Jase nodded and started for the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves. Jory followed him.

“Do you suppose he eats with his hands or with his feet?” Carly wondered aloud, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Des wasn’t sure if Jase heard the nasty little crack, but Jory sure as hell did-she shot a poisonous look at Carly as she passed through the kitchen door.

“Cut him some slack,” Mitch spoke up in Jase’s defense. “He’s a good guy.”

“He smells like an animal at the zoo,” Carly pointed out. “Believe me, when I was growing up in Virginia we had a name for people like that.”

“And believe me, we really don’t want to hear what it was,” Les said coldly. “So kindly spare us.”

Carly went ballistic in response: “You were right last night, Acky,” she hissed, seething. “We shouldn’t have come here. No one wants us here. They hate us. They all hate us!” She turned on her heel and stormed off in the direction of the main stairs.

“Carly, where are you going?” Aaron called after her. “Carly…!”

“No, let her go.” Les took Aaron by the arm, holding him there. “It’s a stressful time for all of us.”

“Carly happens to be my wife, Les. I’ll thank you to stay out of my marriage.”

“You could use some help, my boy,” Teddy advised. “You’ve pretty much made a mess of it.”

“And how would you know? Have you ever even been in a relationship that’s lasted for longer than seven minutes in the front seat of a car?”

Teddy stiffened but didn’t respond. Which made him a true gentleman in Des’s book.

Les turned to Mitch and said, “I’m sorry I’ve been of no help to you guys out there. I feel pretty darned useless.”

“As do I,” Teddy said. “Mind you, I haven’t done any serious physical work in ages. You’d probably have to carry me inside on a stretcher within a half hour.”

“Not to worry,” Mitch assured them both. “The three of us are making excellent progress. At the rate we’re going, we should have those sycamores completely cleared away by the end of March.”

Les let out a halfhearted chuckle. “The power crews will dig us out before you know it.”

“The sooner the better,” Aaron grumbled. “All I want is to get Mother in the ground and me and Carly the hell out of here.”

“Believe me, we all want that,” Teddy concurred.

Aaron arched his brow at him. “I know you think you’re being terribly amusing, Uncle Teddy, but I will not take this crap from you. I’ll have you know that there are plenty of people-influential, powerful people-who actually respect me.”

“Only because they don’t know you as well as we do,” Teddy said. “But give them time, my boy. They’ll come around.”

“Where did Carly go?” Aaron wondered, ignoring him now. Or at least pretending to. “I’ll bet she’s sneaking a cigarette.” He started toward the stairs after her. “Carly…?”

“I’m going to help Jory with the serving, if you’ll excuse me,” Les said. “Would you folks care to listen to the news or some music? The batteries on the sound system are good and charged.”

“I’d rather listen to the wind,” responded Teddy.

“Sure, whatever you want.” Les headed off to the kitchen.

Teddy lingered there before the fire with Des and Mitch. “Seriously, what kind of progress are you boys making out there?”

“Seriously? We might be here for a couple of days.”

“Damn.”

“Somewhere you need to be?” Des asked Teddy.

“Sig Klein’s,” he replied glumly. “I don’t get paid if I don’t sell clothes. And this weekend is a total washout as far as my Jazzmen gig is concerned. Not that I mean to sound petty. It’s just that we all have our lives to lead, and mine isn’t particularly well-funded right now, sad to say. I have to think about these things. I have to…” Teddy trailed off mid-sentence and went over toward the windows to look out at the darkening clouds.

Mitch and Des were alone now before the fire. He immediately put his arms around her and hugged her tightly, his unshaven cheek rough and cold against hers.

“Are you happy to see me or are you just looking for a warm-up?” she wondered, hugging him back.

“Does it matter?” he murmured, his mouth finding hers, kissing hers.

“Not one bit.”

“Des, you’re putting me on another diet when we get out of here. I don’t ever want to end up like Norma-wheezing, laboring, dead.”

“That’s good, baby. I don’t want you to either.”

“But is there any way we can work just a single glass of chocolate milk per day into this one? Along with the skinless chicken breasts and all of that leafy stuff, I mean.”

“I’ll do some research and get back to you,” she said, unable to keep a silly smile off her face.

“It’s snowing again,” Teddy declared from the windows.

They joined him, gazing out at the wet snowflakes that were beginning to fall on top of the hard coating of ice.

“Ain’t it lovely?” Teddy cracked.

“Yeah, it’s a winter wonderland, all right,” Mitch responded.

Their table was all set for breakfast. Jory emerged from the kitchen lugging the oatmeal in a big serving tureen. Les followed her a few seconds later with covered platters of eggs and bacon.

“Don’t wait for the others,” Les urged them as Jory bustled back into the kitchen. “Dig right in. This stuff’s no good cold.”

“You got that right,” Mitch concurred, taking the same seat he’d had at dinner. “If there’s one thing I can’t abide, it is cold scrambled eggs. In my opinion, if they aren’t piping hot they taste exactly like yellow rubber that’s been vulcanized and then subjected to high-level centrifugal-”

Unfortunately, Mitch never got to finish sharing his strongly held personal philosophy on non-hot scrambled eggs with Les and Teddy.

Because now was when they heard the scream.