Page 85 of The Christmas Spirits on Tradd Street
She gave my mother a quick glance. “It was sort of last-minute.”
“Have some tea,” my mother offered.
I removed my coat, then poured myself tea from my grandmother’s antique Limoges pot into a matching teacup. Sitting on the edge of the armchair next to Rebecca, I allowed my gaze to move from one woman to the next, finally settling on Rebecca, noticing again how pale she was. “I’ve been trying to reach you ever since I saw you at the Francis Marion on the night of the Shop and Stroll. I didn’t think we’d finished our conversation.”
“Yes, well, I’ve been busy.” She took a long sip from her tea, avoiding my gaze.
“I’m sure. A part-time job at the paper and no children must leave you exhausted by the end of the day.”
My mother sent me a warning glance and I immediately felt ashamed. It made me wonder how old I’d have to be before that look no longer affected me. Or how long it would take before I’d no longer need it.
She cleared her throat and asked, “How is Jack, Mellie?”
“Still very sick. The doctor suspects it’s the flu, so he’s being quarantined in our room. I’m sleeping in the second guest room, which hasn’t been updated or changed since Mr. Vanderhorst lived in the house. I’m giving Jack flu medication prescribed by his doctor and taking his temp at regular intervals. Mrs. Houlihan keeps him fed with her homemade chicken soup, and Cooper’s been keeping him well stocked on all the spy-thriller movies that have been released in the last ten years so that at least he’s entertained.” I looked accusingly at Rebecca. “Not that he can stay awake very long to watch an entire movie. I think the stresses of the last year have really taken their toll on him and this is his body’s way of telling him to slow down and recharge.”
I didn’t mention how Cooper was also bringing Jack every book he could find that Jack didn’t own or hadn’t already read on code breaking through the centuries. Jack was desperate to keep working on figuring out what Gallen Hall was hiding, but he barely had the strength to hold one of the books up for longer than it took him to fall asleep.
“I hope you’re not using Jack’s illness as an excuse not to fill him in on any developments,” Mother said softly. “I know he needs his rest, but I’m sure he’d appreciate you keeping him in the loop.”
“Of course,” I said, making sure my indignant tone was loud and clear. I hadn’t exactly shared everything with Jack, because he really was too sick. And the medication made him groggy, so that he was barely coherent anyway. As soon as he was better, I’d tell him everything. I would. “And I don’t think this is the appropriate time to bring this up,” I said, my eyes darting over to where Rebecca sat.
“Rebecca understands the importance of family, Mellie. Despite what you might think. We’ve just been talking about that very thing.”
“Really?” I asked, turning my attention to my cousin. “So, about our unfinished conversation...” I began, then stopped when I noticed fat tears rolling down her pale cheeks. She grabbed a small tea napkin from her lap and dabbed at her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I came here to get some advice from your mother—she’s much more worldly than my own mother, which is why I came to her first.”
My motherhadbeen a world-famous opera singer, but I couldn’t imagine any of Rebecca’s troubles needing any kind of worldly advice. I made a point not to roll my eyes, my gaze drifting instead to the antique Dresden desk clock on the side table by the chaise. I had a house showing in an hour and I still needed to speak with my mother.
“Maybe I can help,” I suggested, trying to move the proceedings further along.
“Why don’t you tell Mellie what you just told me?” Mother suggested gently.
I sat up in alarm. “Have you been having more dreams about Jack or Nola?”
Rebecca shook her head. “No. I can’t. I’m... blocked, it seems.”
I sat up straighter, remembering how that had felt when it had happened to me twice before. And the reasons why.
“Go on,” Mother prompted.
“Are you sure? It’s not like she’s a fan of Marc’s to begin with.”
“That’s true. But is anyone, really?” Mother smiled benignly, taking the sting out of her words. “Besides, Mellie understands discretion. Don’t you, dear?”
“Of course.”
“And we’re all family here,” my mother continued. “I’m sure we’re all in agreement that blood trumps everything, correct?”
I waited until I saw Rebecca nod before I did the same.
With a small voice that I needed to strain to hear, Rebecca said, “Marc’s cheating on me.”
I couldn’t even feign surprise at this revelation. He was such a cheat and a liar in all of his dealings, it would follow reason that he couldn’t remain faithful in his marriage. Still, I felt a glimmer of compassion for her, recalling how tied up in knots I’d been the year before when I thought that Jack and Jayne were having an affair.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
She nodded. “He’s been acting... weird lately. Not himself. I know this whole filming thing has been a huge distraction, and Harvey Beckner is good at making everyone around him miserable. But still...” She dabbed at her eyes again. “Last week, Marc fell asleep on the couch, and his phone fell to the floor. It dinged when I walked in the room, and I went to pick it up to see if it was important and if I needed to wake him. It was...” She shuddered. “It was a photo of a woman. Abrunette,” she said with distaste, apparently forgetting that she was in a room with two brunettes. “She barely had on a blouse—and definitely not a bra—and she was saying she couldn’t wait to see Marc again, since the last time was so amazing.” She stifled a sob with her balled-up napkin. “I felt so... defiled.”
