Page 40 of The Christmas Spirits on Tradd Street
“Here,” I said. “What does that look like to you?” I pointed to the scrolling design that edged the plaque, so many swirls and curls that it was easy to hide a picture inside the design. Unless you knew what you were looking for.
I heard the grin in his voice. “It looks like the eye at the end of a peacock’s tail.”
“I agree,” I said, smiling back. “Of course, it could just be a nod toward Eliza’s passion for the bird, since she’s interred there. Or not.”
He kissed me briefly on the lips. “I told you we make a great team.”
Yvonne gently cleared her throat.
“The three of us make anextraordinaryteam,” he corrected himself before turning back to me. “Looks like we need to head back to the mausoleum and see for sure,” Jack said with enthusiasm. His smile dimmed a bit. “Although I’m not really sure what any of this means, or evenifit means anything, but it least it gives me something to focus on other than Marc, and the book, and Desmarae, whose latest idea is for me to get new author photos of me shirtless. To attract that younger demographic.”
“But does that demographic even know how to read?” I asked.
“I don’t know. All I know is that I just want to be left alone in peace to write, and not have to deal with all of this.”
I grabbed his free hand. “I know. Hopefully we’ll hear back from your architect friend with something helpful soon. And in the meantime, I’ll call Anthony and set up a time for us to visit the mausoleum and hopefully figure this all out,” I said with a great deal less enthusiasm as I recalled with a sinking feeling the last time I’d been there, and the lingering stench of rotting flesh that had followed me home.
“Don’t forget to let Jayne know, so she can come, too,” Jack said, gathering up the photocopies Yvonne had given us before enveloping her in a hug.
“Of course,” I said, forcing a smile as I gave Yvonne a kiss on the cheek and a good-bye hug.
Jack actually whistled to himself as we exited the library, despite angry looks from librarians and patrons alike. He took my hand and squeezed, and I willed myself to be just as thrilled as he was at our discovery, reluctant though I was to examine what it was that had dimmed my own excitement like a dark cloud scuttling in front of the sun.
CHAPTER 15
On my way to the kitchen the following morning to grab my coffee before work, I heard the twins’ babbling voices coming from Jack’s office. I peered around the door and spotted the children, still dressed in their matching Christmas footie pajamas, batting at a crumpled ball of paper while the three dogs looked on, mesmerized. There was a lesson to be learned here, I was sure, as I did a quick tally in my head of the money I’d already spent on presents for Sarah and JJ that would probably never be played with as much as this crumpled ball of paper.
Jack sat on the floor near them, snapping photos with his iPhone. He’d already had to upgrade to a new phone with more memory because of the sheer number of photos he took of his three children. Except for the times when he turned the camera on me, my heart squeezed with every click, making me love my husband even more. Assuming that was possible.
“Good morning,” I said, moving forward to kiss Jack. “I was wondering where my babies were and why the clothes I’d laid out for them were still on the bedroom chair.” I knelt in front of Sarah and JJ, kissing them on their soft cheeks while they made appropriate smoochingsounds. They smiled at me but were quickly distracted by one of the puppies batting at the paper ball.
I frowned as I stood. “And where is Jayne? I would hope that by now she’d know that the children should be dressed before...”
“Hi, Melanie.”
I swung around behind me, where Jayne stood with a cup of coffee, looking young and rested. Unlike me, who hadn’t had my coffee yet and who’d been awakened three times in the middle of the night by Sarah babbling to someone I couldn’t see. I’d smelled the roses, so I hadn’t been frightened. Just annoyed that as a mother herself, Louisa Vanderhorst didn’t recognize that I needed my sleep.
Jayne clutched her mug a little tighter, making me realize I’d been staring at it. “Sorry, Melanie—JJ and Sarah looked so absolutely adorable in their pajamas that I thought we’d have a jammie morning. It’s so cold outside that I thought we’d bring pillows and blankets downstairs and piles of books and camp out in front of the fire. When it gets a little warmer this afternoon, I’ll dress them and take them to the park.”
She took a sip from her coffee, reminding me that I was still staring at it. I forced my gaze to her face. “Um, sure. That’s fine.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, then quickly replaced it, aware of the sun streaming through the windows and probably highlighting the six layers of concealer I’d smeared under my eyes to hide the dark circles. “I guess I’ll, um, go get my coffee and head to work....”
Jack stood. “Wait. I’ve got some great photos of the kids you’ll probably want for the album. Look.” He put his arm around my shoulders to draw me nearer, then started swiping his thumb across the screen to show me photos of Sarah and JJ playing with the puppies and wearing their cute pajamas. Jack was right. They were great photos, and ones I’d probably include in their photo albums. Except in every single one, Jayne was there—either with the children in her lap or sitting between them or next to them. I wasn’t sure why that bothered me. She was my sister. Their aunt. She belonged in our photo albums because she was part of our family. But the gnatlike whine and itch of an unnamedirritation plucked at my conscience, making it difficult for me to meet Jayne’s eyes when Jack lowered the phone.
“You’re right—they’re all great.” I began backing out of the room, hoping that some caffeine was all I needed to slap down that persistent whine in the back of my head.
“And don’t forget to call Anthony—I went ahead and told Jayne about what we learned yesterday with Yvonne. She’s eager to return to Gallen Hall.”
“Actually,” I said slowly, looking at Jack, “I already spoke with him. He said later this week would work, and since I knew you didn’t have anything on your calendar, I said we’d meet him on Friday at four o’clock.”
“But Jayne will be watching the twins then,” Jack pointed out.
“Oh, well,” I started to say, but Jack spoke first. “I’m sure either your mother or mine will be happy to fill in.”
“I’ll call Mother and ask,” Jayne offered. “Not sure if we should mention this to Dad, though. What do you think?”
Dad?“Um, well, assuming we don’t want a repeat of what happened last time, I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“Agreed,” Jayne said brightly. She drained her mug and put it on Jack’s desk before approaching, probably feeling it was safe now that her mug was empty. “While I was at the salon yesterday getting a mani-pedi, I did some thinking about everything that’s been going on here at the cistern, and the connection with Gallen Hall and all of that history.”
