Page 77 of The Christmas Spirits on Tradd Street
“Yeah. He did.”
“Thanks, Suzy.”
“You’re welcome. Talk to you soon.”
The call ended, and I immediately pressed my face against the soft cheeks of my children, smelling them and feeling their soft breath on my face. The overwhelming need to save Jack, to save our family, suddenly consumed me. I had to find the answers, even if I had to do it by myself.
“Are you all right, Mellie?” My mother’s solicitous tone nearly brought tears to my eyes.
I straightened. “Let’s go sit down in the lobby so we can chat and JJ and Sarah can see the train.”
“Choo-choo,”JJ screeched, waving his whisk in the air and making a young couple chuckle as they passed by us.
We headed into the beautiful lobby with the double staircase festooned with lush garlands, bows, and clusters of glass ornaments. Both children bounced up and down in their stroller as we neared the enormous display beneath the stairway, the fabricated snow-topped mountains surrounding an alpine village, the toy train chugging its way down the tracks and through a mountain tunnel. A row of poinsettias stood sentry before the magical scene and I could almost feel my blood pressure drop.
Even before I’d had children, I’d always thought the Christmas display at Charleston Place was magical, easily imagining that this miniature world of houses with actual lights, tiny people waving, and vehicleswith open doors was real. Both JJ and Sarah were watching with wide eyes and open mouths, and I felt a little bit of the fear that had gripped me since my conversation with Suzy dissipate.
“Has something happened?” my mother asked.
I shrugged. “Yes and no. We’re not getting anywhere with any of the information we’ve discovered—not with the mausoleum puzzle or the four words that Nola and Cooper have been working on every spare moment. Even the little drawer cover that Meghan found in the cistern turned up nothing. And Jack, well, he’s understandably upset about what’s going on with his publisher’s plans for his book and very frustrated that he can’t sink his teeth into this next book without a single clue to go on.”
“Amelia mentioned something to that effect yesterday. Jack stopped by Trenholm Antiques to help his parents place all the new items from their recent European buying trip in the best spots in the store, and he said he had no opinion one way or another.”
I raised my eyebrows. “This could be more serious than I thought.” I’d meant it as a lighthearted comment but realized too late that it wasn’t. The way Jack relaxed and de-stressed was to rearrange furniture and accessories. He had an excellent eye and always knew where the overlooked étagères belonged, or where to place the spare chinoiserie biscuit jar. He hadn’t so much as dragged an ottoman across a room for weeks.
“There’s more,” I said. “Grandmother called me.”
“Oh.”
“Exactly. She only calls when there’s trouble.”
“I know. Did she say anything?”
I met her eyes and felt a sinking feeling when I recognized the fear and worry in them. I nodded. “She said Jack’s name. Just like you did when you touched the bedpost in Nola’s room. Right after you said, ‘Traitors deserve to die and rot in hell.’”
She frowned. “I wish I could tell you why I said either thing, but I don’t remember any of it.” Softening her voice, she asked, “Is Jack drinking again?”
I leaned over the stroller handle to straighten the large red bow in Sarah’s hair. “No. Not that I’ve seen, anyway. But Suzy Dorf said shesaw him at the Gin Joint. He wasn’t drinking, but I think it was pretty clear that he wanted to.”
My mother straightened her shoulders, making her seem larger than her petite frame. “We need to tell your father. Jack is his sponsor, so it would make sense that he should be the one to confront him.”
I shook my head. “No. Confrontation never works with Jack. We can definitely tell Dad; maybe he can just have conversations with him. But don’t confront him. In the meantime, I’m trying to find some answers to this whole peacock–spy-ring thing. If I could just gift Jack with something concrete for this new story idea, he should be able to find a new publisher who will publish him the way he deserves.”
“I’m not sure that will help, Mellie. Jack prides himself on being the smartest person in the room. His whole career has been built on digging up and figuring out buried mysteries of the past. Being that man feeds his confidence and his ego. I’m not sure if handing him answers on a platter will help.”
I bristled. I’d always hated being told what to do, or that my thought processes might be wrong. Sophie said that was proof I was stubborn and too independent, a product of how I was raised. She also insisted they were bad characteristics I needed to shed. I wasn’t completely sure I agreed with her, and being married had certainly taught me compromise. On some things. But not this. We were talking about Jack here, the man I loved almost to distraction. The man who, according to Rebecca, might be in serious danger. I had to do what I thought best.
“I can take care of this, Mother.”
“Of course you can. But you shouldn’t do it on your own. Your father, Jayne, and I are all here to help. You just need to ask.”
I bristled again at the mention of Jayne’s name. My mother must have noticed, because she placed her gloved hand on my sleeve. “Mellie, you do know that your sister is on your side, right? And that your father and I love you both equally. I realize her sudden appearance in our lives must have been a bit of a shock to you, but I think having a sister should be a good thing. I disliked the loneliness of being an only child. And Jayne is such a friendly and loving person....”
I sent her a stony look and she stopped waxing poetic about my half sister.
She continued. “What I mean to say is that a little jealousy on your part is understandable. But you have so much in common and such potential to be close. I hope you recognize that and move forward accordingly. Remember, Mellie. We’re stronger together.”
Everything she said after the wordjealousyevaporated quickly. “Me? Jealous?” The forced laugh sounded so odd that both children turned to look at me with apprehension on their little faces.
