Page 25 of The Hampton Beach Café 3
The playful smile on Mac's face disappeared now.
"Ah," he said. "Well...I don't know what you want to know, but I'm not sure I can tell you."
"Just...just anything you remember," she said, trying not to sound desperate. "I don't really have a lot of memories of him. He was always gone for work. Then he was just...gone."
Mac nodded and took a seat in one of his chairs.
"Well, he was always polite to me, paid his bills," Mac said. "I don't know what else I can say..."
"I'm not looking for pleasantries," Frances said. "I know he had a reputation...I want to know the truth."
"The truth?" Mac said with a snort. "You say that, but...well, it's not my place to tell you what you can or can't handle. He was an excellent swindler, your dad. He had everyone believing he was an upstanding citizen, but he'd take what he could get without putting too much effort in. He made an advance on my daughter when she was in the shop once. When she slapped him right across the face, he shrugged his shoulders and told her he had thought it worth a try. She didn't tell me that until after he left. I'd never let him back in here otherwise."
Frances let her mouth fall open. "Your daughter? in your own shop?"
"Sure did," he said. "He wasn't forceful or nothin' like that, and the fact that he was a real charmer and half good-looking didn't hurt his efforts. When he left, a lot of the men were happy about it––one more than the other's, though."
"Who?" Frances asked quickly.
"No idea, all I know is he showed up here one morning with a big old black eye, broken nose, and a handful of jewelry he wanted to sell––I asked him why he didn't go down the pawn shop, and he lost his temper. Didn't even let me look at them again, just took off. Didn't come back to town after that."
Stomach swirling and twisting into knots, Frances swallowed hard, trying to clear the nauseous feeling it created.
"The pawn shop? I don't remember a pawn shop?"
"Oh, you wouldn't," Mac said. "Prices' Antiques always tried to elevate themselves above that, but they did whatever made money."
"Price? As in Kennedy Price?" Alex asked.
"Yeah...that girl's done alright, bit uptight though," Mac said.
Frances wasn't sure she wanted the next answer but she couldn't help herself. "Did you see any of the jewelry? Was there a Tiffany Co. heart bracelet in there?"
Mac scratched his head, "I think there was, yeah. Why?"
Pulling out her phone, she stared at the screen through a fog of tears.
"Uh, Alex, it's four," she said.
"Sorry, Mac, we gotta go. We're picking someone up at the station."
Looking confused, Mac bid them farewell and said he'd come by and try the coffee. As they stepped through the door, Frances turned to him. Something in her felt that he needed an explanation.
"That bracelet? I found it on the subway when I was seven, and we went to New York for a vacation. It was my absolute prize possession, even before I knew it was a fancy designer. I thought I lost it in senior year just before he left."
THIRTEEN
Watching Lucinda and Hayley work each other out had been an interesting entertainment for Frances and Alex over the last few days. Two big personalities in a very small café would always be a sight, and Frances was glad Alex was there to help diffuse a few of the more awkward scenes. Lucinda usually wasn't particularly bothered by other people's behavior, and Frances was sure that it had less to do with Hayley's personality and more to do with the broad smile she kept flashing Vince.
"I think Lucinda may need a break," she whispered to Alex at the counter.
It was one of the few quieter moments in the day, and they'd paused to make themselves a coffee and share some of the Halva Hayley had brought from LA.
"You think?" Alex said, stiffing a giggle.
"Do you want to do me a huge favor?"
Alex glanced at her sideways. "What, another one? Your tab is getting pretty high, you know."
