Misty awoke groggy the next morning to find a small terrier tight up against her and snoring in a volume totally out of proportion to his size. However, it wasn’t Jellybean’s nocturnal sounds that had kept her tossing and turning throughout the night, but rather her own noisy thoughts. Misty had never been good at interpreting social situations, but she’d seen clearly the intimate connection between Dina Everly and Bill. They knew each other in a way that she and Bill did not. It was clear they had spent time together outside of the preschool pickup and drop-off.
Why not? she asked herself bitterly as she got out of bed and pulled on her clothes. Dina was young, lovely, and easy to be around. What handsome man wouldn’t want that?
Jack had. Pain lanced through her chest, not so much for the loss of Jack as the humiliation of knowing the truth. As much as she wanted to blame Jack for the end of their relationship, she couldn’t. He really was a great guy, and he deserved a relationship with someone like Jill.
“I love you,” he’d said. “I’ll always love you, but I think we’re not completely compatible.” Compatible with a normal, well-rounded life.
Jack enjoyed people and parties and finding the newest hot spot in town. He was a sales rep, and he honestly loved the events, the small talk, the schmoozing and flitting from conversation to conversation like a bee in search of blossoms.
He loved, in essence, the very things Misty found frightening. But she’d learned to like those things, or at least attempt to like them, for him. Wasn’t that enough? To try to mold yourself into that round peg so you’d fit into someone else’s life?
Unless you didn’t. And you couldn’t. And it was just easier to hide yourself under that bushel or bed, or behind the anonymous computer screen. In the dead silence of the empty trailer, Misty felt her own light sputtering into darkness.
You’re not compatible with Bill’s life either, Misty. At least she’d figured it out early this time, before she was humiliated.
Bill deserved Dina. What better pairing than with a woman who knew all about kids—a wife and mother all rolled into one?
She looked down to find Jellybean sitting at her feet, staring up at her in that vacuous way.
“What?”
The stare.
“What do you want?”
Jellybean yipped and licked her bare feet.
“All right,” she said. “One song.” Taking up her violin, she poured her heart into a sad melody, the dog listening raptly. When she was done, he leaped onto her lap and swabbed her chin with his tongue to catch the tears she hadn’t known were falling.
“Jelly,” she said, burying her face in his wiry hair. “Did you ever feel like you were a mutt in a kennel of show dogs?” The little tongue continued to soothe the tears from her face.
“I wasn’t made to shine a light. I want to go home.”
Again the vacant stare, or was it perhaps a compassionate look?
She steeled her resolve. There would be no falling in love here—not with this doe-eyed charmer, and not with Bill Woodson either. “We’re going to find Lawrence today and reunite you, and then I’m hitting the road for San Francisco.”
Jellybean cocked his head, ears perked, circled precisely three times in her lap, and sank down into a dejected bundle.
“That’s not going to work, Jelly,” she said, putting him on the floor and clipping him to a leash. She thought about what Ernest had said about Lawrence.
“Could be he needs more than a violin teacher.”
“He needs you, Jellybean, so it’s take two, silver screen rescue, and…action!”
Jellybean elevated his nose in a haughty fashion and peed on the floor mat.
The drive to Twin Pines was quiet. Bill squirmed in his button-up denim shirt and jeans, wishing he’d taken the time to change into a soft T-shirt. Though the barnyard boogies blared from the CD player, no one seemed in much of a mood to sing along.
Misty sat quietly, brow furrowed, until he could stand the silence no longer.
“What are you mulling over?”
“The name of the town—Twin Pines. It’s so familiar.”
“Is it a place from Lawrence’s past? He was raised in a foster home. Could it be he was returning to see his foster parents?” Bill figured this might be a clever deduction on his part.
“No. Vivian said they have both passed away.”
He jerked. “You got that out of Vivian?”
“Barely, and only after I promised to lock Jelly in the trailer while we talked.”
“I’m impressed.” Misty really was an incredible woman. Smart and lovely, and way out of his league.
Twin Pines boasted five thousand residents, or so the placard read as they cruised in. It was the standard California small town, with older parts that didn’t match and newer sections of squished-together houses with a Mediterranean look to their stucco exteriors.
There was only one major hotel in town, so they started there, discovering quickly that cabdrivers and hotel managers shared the same policy regarding client privacy rights.
“I didn’t see him in the lobby coffee area,” Misty said glumly. “But that doesn’t mean he isn’t here.”
They checked out the local grocery store and deli as they strolled along the main drag, but there was no sign of the actor anywhere. Misty headed for a small consignment shop, the window crowded with glassware, dusty books, and a wooden rocking horse. Bill couldn’t figure out what might have caught her eye until she pointed to a battered violin case, open to reveal a gleaming instrument inside.
“I always have to look. You never know where you might find a missing Stradivarius. Stradivarius only made eleven hundred or so instruments, and most are accounted for. But Ernest told me about a soldier in the Korean War who found a Strad in the walls of a burned-out farmhouse. I…” She stopped, shocked.
“What is it?”
“I just remembered why I know the name Twin Pines. It’s the billing address for Ernest Finn.”
“The one who recommended you for the movie job?”
She nodded slowly, brow crinkled. “And when I talked to him last, he wasn’t able to do his lesson due to an unexplained conflict. He called Lawrence ‘old Tuck’ in the course of our conversation. Does that strike you as odd?”
“Yep, like a mystery movie. Wouldn’t it be an amazing plot twist if Lawrence is holing up with your student?”
She took out her phone and tapped a few buttons. “Maybe it is time for me to meet Ernest face-to-face. He lives at 110 Elmwood Drive. Do you have a GPS?”
He flushed. “Yeah, but I never figured out how to work it.”
“No problem. I’ll use Google Maps.”
Fiona was beginning to kick the back of the driver’s seat by the time they found the tiny structure at the far edge of town. Jellybean was just as eager as Fiona to tumble from the car and scamper up the graveled drive.
Misty stopped and wiped her palms on her thighs.
“Nervous?”
“He’s been my friend for six years, but that’s been over Skype. I come off much better via the screen than in real life. I’m going to blabber. I can feel it.”
Bill wrapped an arm around her shoulders to show support. “We know you’re a Skype screen star. Now it’s time to get up close and personal. He’s going to love you, blabber or no blabber.”
She did not look convinced, but he was dead certain. How could anyone not love her mixture of earnest sincerity and bumbling efforts to do the right thing? How could Bill himself possibly not love her?
He pushed away the pesky thought and rapped on the door. An older man with a puff of white hair that matched his suspenders appeared. His mouth fell open, and his eyes rounded behind the glasses.
“Miss Agnelli?”
“Misty,” she said automatically. “And you have got to be Ernest. I mean, of course you are. Who else could you be?”
“Yes,” he said, pumping her hand while she introduced her fellow travelers. “I can’t believe you’re here. I feel like I’m in a movie or something.”
Bill laughed. “We’ve been having similar thoughts.”
“Why have you come?” Ernest said. “I’ve already rescheduled my lesson.”
Misty smiled. “I’m not here on music business. Ernest, I don’t mean to barge in, but I have an important question to ask you.”
He held up a hand. “Before you ask, please come in and let me make you some tea. I don’t get much company from lovely ladies and their entourages, so this is a tea-worthy moment if there ever was one.” He peered through his glasses at Fiona. “And I think I’ve even got some cookies somewhere. You look like the kind of young lady who likes vanilla wafers, am I right?”
Fiona clung to Bill’s leg and smiled.
“Okay to bring in the dog?” Bill asked. “Or should I secure him outside?”
Ernest laughed. “Oh, he’s welcome here. Always has been. Please come in.”
Bill shot Misty a look. What’s going on?
She answered with a silent, I have no idea.
They trailed Ernest down a sunny hallway with well-worn wooden floors into a sitting room with a faded purple sofa and two overstuffed chairs. Rows of books crammed the room’s shelves, and Bill noticed a black-and-white wedding photo of a dashing Ernest and his shyly smiling bride. Two old Chihuahuas scuttled out from under the sofa and began a merry game of chase with Jellybean.
Fiona chuckled once, a small, happy sound sweeter than a Christmas bell. Bill wanted to pump his fist in the air. Two sounds in one week. Even if he was going to say goodbye to Misty and his business in short order, at least that was a positive sign. Fiona was feeling more comfortable, safer. But what if he had to close the shop and move her again? Where would they go? And how long would it take before he heard the hum and giggle of a secure child once more?
Fiona set about rolling a tennis ball and watching the three dogs set off in hot pursuit, furry planets whizzing around in their own frantic orbits.
“Well, that should keep them busy for a while,” Ernest said, returning from the kitchen with a tray, glasses of iced tea, and a bowl of vanilla wafers.
Misty gestured. “This room is exactly like I’ve seen on Skype every week for the past six years. I feel like I’ve stepped through the looking glass.”
“Me too,” Ernest said. “And may I note that you are even prettier in person?”
“Thank you,” Misty said, spots of pink appearing on her cheeks, like Bill’s perfect candy roses against satiny white chocolate. “It’s…special to meet someone face-to-face, isn’t it?”
Ernest saluted her with his glass of tea. “A toast to face-to-face friends.”
They clinked glasses and sipped.
He went to a shelf in a crammed china cupboard and set out a box of Chocolate Heaven truffles. Bill and Misty exchanged a look.
“Ernest, I have to ask that question now, if you don’t mind.”
He sighed. “Ask away. I think I might have an idea why you’re here.”
Misty set down her glass. “Did you cancel our lesson because you had an unexpected houseguest?”
Ernest sighed. “Yes.”
Bill sat up straighter. They’d actually figured it out? Found the elusive actor? Unbelievable.
“I knew it,” Misty chortled. “Lawrence is here, isn’t he?”
The expression on Ernest’s weathered face put a tinge of doubt over Bill’s optimism.
“No,” Ernest said. “I’m sorry to say he is not.”