Chapter Eighteen

 

 

Promptly after Joyce knocked thrice on the Wangs’ door, the heavy carved oak swung inward, Julie threw her long, thin arms out, and beamed, “Surprise!”

Avery chuckled as she leaned in and hugged her, teasing, “It wasn’t much of a surprise with your car parked in the driveway.”

Julie clicked her tongue, and admonished, “Don’t give my car credit for driving six hours to have dinner with you.”

“Well, I think the car deserves some credit. You couldn’t have gotten here in six hours all on your own. Are you really only in town for dinner?”

“No, I’ll be here all weekend.” She looked at Joyce, and grinning like a little devil, she cooed, “Hello, Joyce Peterson,” making Joyce’s cheek blush, which caused her and Avery to giggle. “Give me a hug.”

“You’re so bossy.”

As Joyce leaned in to hug her, Julie kissed her cheek, and teased, “You strike me as a woman who likes to be bossed around.”

“Oh, my god.” Joyce laughed and lightly slapped her arm as she stepped away. “You are going to spend the majority of the evening torturing me, aren’t you?”

“Possibly. Is that your kink?”

Joyce released a laughing puff of air and shook her head. “You’re awful. But it’s nice to see you.”

“You too.” Julie winked as she looped her arm through Avery’s and led them inside.

When they walked into the kitchen, Henry and Raya were standing next to each other at the island. Henry was slicing through a loaf of artisan bread, while Raya was brushing a wet seasoning rub on a row of skewered shrimp.

“Hey, you two.” Raya smiled as she looked between them, and asked, “Are you okay with eating outside tonight?”

Before Joyce could, Avery answered, “Yes, it’s beautiful out. Can I help with anything?”

While holding Joyce’s eyes with affection, Raya told Avery, “You can open one of those bottles of wine your other half is carrying. Julie, pull the glasses out for her, please.”

“Sure.” Still smiling, Julie took the bottles of wine from Joyce, and she and Avery got set up on a clear space on the island across from Henry and Raya.

While Avery worked the corkscrew into one bottle, Joyce stood next to her, and asked, “Anything I can help with?”

Henry set the bread knife down, saying, “You can take over with the bread, while I get the food on the grill. Raya wants both sides brushed with this seasoned butter.”

As Henry grabbed a couple of cooking trays loaded with seasoned vegetables, steaks, and shrimp, Raya teased, “We better hurry with the final preparations. We can’t leave that man alone at the grill for too long, or he’ll eat all of the shrimp.”

While walking to the backdoor, Henry crooned, “No, take your time. The shrimp is in good hands. It’s totally safe with me.”

Raya just hummed uh huh, and all of them laughed at the cheeky grin he gave her before walking outside.

As soon as he closed the door behind him, Julie nudged Avery with an elbow, and asked, “So, how is Joyce treating you? Is she taking care of all of your needs to your satisfaction?”

While Avery chuckled, Joyce blushed, and groaned, “Oh, my god.” She pointed a piece of bread at Julie, and with slanted eyes, she playfully demanded, “Behave.”

“I’m just doing my duty as Avery’s best friend to make sure she is happy.”

“I find it hard to believe she hasn’t already answered that question. You two are as thick as thieves, even with two hundred miles separating you.” Giving her a hard, challenging stare, she concluded, “You are just being naughty.”

“Still calling me a naughty girl, even after you’re spoken for?” Julie clicked her tongue while slowly shaking her head side to side. Joyce narrowed her eyes again, so Julie conceded. “Fine, I’m just teasing. Avery already told me she’s happy with you, and that you’re wonderful,” with a grin, she added, “in all ways,” which, of course, made Joyce blush again.

“I’m not biting the bait, missy. I’m not going to pry for details on that conversation. How is work?”

“It’s great. My team is working on a new and promising medication for endometriosis. The hormone therapy options currently available have laundry lists of negative side effects and can cause long-term health problems. I won’t bore you with all of the science, but we’re trying to tackle the issue a different way. We’re hoping to start human trials in six months or less.”

“That’s good to hear. One of the junior editors with my publisher suffers from endometriosis. She has a really awful time with it, even with medication. She’s only thirty and seriously considering having a hysterectomy.”

Julie sighed, “That’s one of the reasons we’re working so hard on this formula. It’s less common now than it was ten, even five years ago, but too many patients have to resort to some type of surgery as an effective treatment option. People need more and safer options.”

“Yes, they do. I’m proud of you, sweetie.”

Julie smiled at Joyce, and told her, “Thanks. I’m pretty excited about the work we’re doing.”

While picking up the tray of buttered bread, Raya said, “We better get out there. I see Henry eyeing the shrimp a little too closely. Bring the wine.”

Sure enough, as soon as Raya opened the door, she snapped, “Hold it, mister!”

Henry’s hunched shoulders shook with a chuckle, before he turned to face them with a shrimp tail sticking out of his mouth.

“You horrible man!” Raya laughed as she slapped her husband’s shoulder. “Just for that, I shouldn’t let you have any more shrimp tonight.”

While batting his eyelashes, Henry dramatically flipped his bottom lip out in a deep pout, then pleaded, “Don’t punish me just for having a weakness for your incomparably delicious cooking, my darling, my light on a dark night, my wind beneath my wings.”

“You’re a con artist.” All of them laughed, and Raya huffed as she shook her head. After setting the tray of bread down next to the grill, she kissed his lips, and told him, “I’m watching you.”

“Here, Dad.”

Julie handed him a glass of wine, then pulled Avery over to sit around a rectangular table with a low fire burning in a shallow basin down its center. After taking a sip of wine, she asked, “Have you figured out what you’re doing with that demon box you found?”

Raya quickly interjected. “Demon box?” So, Avery told her about finding the fake demon box buried between the rose bushes in her backyard.

“I bet I know who that was.” She looked at Joyce, and asked, “Do you remember that couple, oh, what were their names?” Raya’s brow furrowed in thought, then she clicked her tongue. “I can’t remember their names. They moved five years ago. They were amateur film makers in their early thirties. They organized those vintage film festivals for Halloween for a few years.”

“Oh, of course!” Joyce placed a hand on her forehead. “They were…” She snapped her fingers. “Ted and Alice Carmichael.”

“Yes! They were characters.” Raya laughed. “Do you remember that year they did the haunted ghost ship in the marina? That was pretty impressive. I’m not at all surprised they buried a fake demon box for new tenants to find.” She looked at Avery, and asked, “Were you scared when you found it?”

“No, it was exciting at first. I don’t believe in demons, but I was a little worried there would be something gross in there, like a dead animal. I decided not to put the box back in the ground. At least, not that box.”

Julie asked, “How come?”

“I think finding that particular box could be really traumatizing for someone else, someone who does believe in demons. Joyce and I went to the hobby store and bought a new box and I’m going to turn it into a memory chest. Which is actually what I was hoping it was going to be.”

Raya told her, “I think that’s a sweet idea. And I bet you could find something like an old film festival pamphlet to put in there so Ted and Alice’s hands in the box aren’t completely lost.” Raya smiled as she lifted her glass to take a sip of wine, then added, “That could be a fun date for you two – searching through the town archives.”

Avery smiled as she looked at Joyce, and asked, “Is our town’s archives as cool as the Hagger Cove archives?”

Nodding, Joyce answered, “It’s a very different vibe and has its own unique history, but I think it’s right on par with the lighthouse.”

“Sounds like fun. I love seeing you in your element.”

Raya teased, “Nerds,” then, with her voice a little more strained, she asked, “Any developments since your trip to the lighthouse?”

After Joyce swallowed a sip of wine, she answered, “The research has been fascinating. And we’ve nearly read through all of the information we have so far. But no one has said anything to me or Avery about us researching Mickey. Either Eleanor hasn’t mentioned it to anyone, or people are too afraid to ask.”

“Probably the latter, and hopefully it stays that way.” After savoring a sip of wine, Raya looked at Avery, and apologized. “Sorry for getting off topic. Do you know what you’re going to put in the memory box to represent yourself?”

“A postcard from one of my favorite places I’ve been. I just haven’t figured out which one. I have over a thousand postcards. Joyce helped me narrow it down to about five-hundred, but I’m still really indecisive.”

“You know, there is a much simpler solution.” Avery gave Julie a questioning lift of her brows, and Julie suggested, “Go on a trip together,” which made Avery’s face light up.

“Actually, that is a really good idea. How about it, Joyce Peterson, will you go on vacation with me?”

“I’d love to, sweetie. After I finish my manuscript.”

Julie sucked her teeth and waved a flippant hand. “You’re such a workaholic. Just go on vacation with your girlfriend.”

Avery snickered behind her wineglass before taking a sip, and Joyce had to fight the desire to walk over and kiss her. She looked so happy at the prospect of going on a trip together that Joyce felt quite a bit of remorse in having to burst her bubble, even if it was just temporary.

“Honoring deadlines doesn’t make me a workaholic, Julie Wang. If I go on vacation before I can finish this manuscript, there’s no telling what my muse will do. She may betray me and take my mind in a completely different direction. I have seven chapters left to write.”

Julie licked her lips in the familiar way that told Joyce she was preparing for a verbal battle. “As a creative, your muse can take inspiration from anything. Lying in bed with your girlfriend, going for a walk along the lakeside, searching the town archives. How is going on vacation with your girlfriend so different? And why can’t you just write a little bit while you’re on vacation to keep your muse in check?”

Avery snickered around another sip of wine, but she offered no help in the matter. But Joyce didn’t mind the interrogation. She loved the idea of going on vacation with Avery. And she loved how happy she looked from just talking about it.

“The difference is the seeds of inspiration gathered from new places and experiences are much more potent than those gathered from places and activities I’ve already experienced many times. About half of my novels have been inspired by vacations I’ve taken. And I have run into paralyzing writer’s block when traveling with a work in progress.”

Julie sucked her teeth again. “Fine.” She looked at Avery, and asked, “If Joyce’s muse wasn’t such a trollop, where would you go?”

“Hey!” Joyce laughed hard. “Don’t call my muse a trollop.”

Julie just grinned and winked, then gave Avery her attention and waited for her to answer.

After moistening her grinning lips, Avery asked, “Is your passport current?”

Joyce nodded. “It is.”

“Any preferences? Or places you won’t go?”

Joyce thought for a moment, while drinking a few sips of wine, then nodded. “Nowhere dangerous. War zones, the Bermuda triangle, Death Valley…”

Avery laughed, and cut her off. “I’m not a danger junky, remember? How about Iceland, Brazil, or Hong Kong?”

“I’ve been to Hong Kong once and I enjoyed it immensely, so I would definitely be on board with going again. Brazil is like an entire world on its own with practically everything you could possibly want to experience in life, so I would give a resounding yes to going there as well. However, my muse is ecstatic over the idea of going to Iceland.”

Avery beamed, “Iceland it is.”

“Can’t wait.”

Joyce felt like she was floating. She already knew her dearest friends were in support of her relationship with Avery. But it was a very different experience for all of them to be sitting around chatting and making life plans together. And she really was bubbling with excitement over the prospect of going to Iceland soon. Joyce’s deadline to have her first draft submitted to her editor was fast approaching. Two months. She had two months to finish writing seven chapters then do her own round of edits. And maybe a week or two later, she could be boarding a plane to Iceland with Avery.