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Exhausted and over-stimulated from the sights and sounds of HonFest, all Lacey wanted was to plunge into her apartment building’s pool. She needed to swim away the day and the sour memory of her encounter with Amy Keaton. The pool overlooked the banks of the Potomac River and was the saving grace of many a summer day. Lacey loved to lounge by the pool, watching the egrets pose like lovely ladies and the eagles and osprey soar and dive into the river. And after dark, millions of fireflies would come out to play.
But when she opened her apartment door, Lacey smelled charcoal wafting from the grill out on her balcony. That aroma could mean only one thing: Victor Donovan was practicing the manly art of barbequing.
I can swim some other time.
“Hello? Vic?” Lacey inquired from the open door.
“Out here. Hope you’re hungry for steak.” Vic grinned at her through the screen door of the balcony.
“Always.”
“Charcoal’s almost ready.”
“I can smell it! What a surprise. There in a minute.”
Lacey was suddenly even more glad to be home. Vic and steaks and home! The apartment building might have been a little shabby, but her million-dollar balcony view of the Potomac River could not be denied. And it was always cooler by the river, especially after a blisteringly hot HonFest day.
She threw her tote bag on the sofa and checked the closet where the red dress was hanging in its borrowed garment bag. She unzipped it: It looked innocent enough, in all its crimson glory. She zipped it back up. Kicking off her shoes, she padded through the living room and the French doors and onto the balcony to greet Vic with a kiss. He held her at arm’s length and peered at her quizzically.
“Whoa, who’s this mystery woman? Very exotic! But listen, I have a fiancée, lady. She’ll be here any minute.”
Lacey laughed. She had completely forgotten about her HonFest look.
“Sorry. Stella insisted. It was either let her do this or a beehive hairdo. Or this and a beehive. What do you think?”
“I feel like I’m talking to a whole different woman.”
“Shall I scrub it off?”
“No, no. You look great. Like Gina Lollobrigida or something.” Great, another Italian movie diva. He wound one arm around her waist. “I’m always discovering a new side of you, darling.”
She admired the small café table that he had set. He’d prepared salad from a bag and added avocado, tomatoes, and onion. Corn on the cob was ready for the grill, along with a couple of beautiful steaks.
“This is fabulous. What’s the occasion?”
“You. I thought you might have a long hot day in Baltimore. I’m surprised you didn’t emerge from the time warp in a poodle skirt and cat-eye glasses.”
“If Stella had her way, I would have. You should have seen poor Nigel.”
“He was there? Shame I missed that.” Vic had a low opinion of the Brit, having known him for years through Nigel’s jewel-thief days.
“In tight jeans and a cigarettes-rolled-up T-shirt, his hair all poufed up. Early Elvis.”
“Did you take a photo?” She showed him the pics on her phone and Vic laughed. “Nice. We’ll use it for blackmail.”
“No use. Nigel has no shame.”
“You’re right. He was born without.”
“Handy for him. Also, no tact. He practically took my arm off gawking at my engagement ring.”
“Uh oh. You sure he didn’t switch it out, with some jewel-thief sleight of hand? Replace it with a gumball machine ring?” Vic took her hand and kissed it. She noticed he also made sure the ring was still there.
“He offered to appraise it for me.”
“Of course he did. Which reminds me. When are you going to tell your family we’re engaged?”
“Please! One thing at a time.” Lacey didn’t want to have that particular conversation with her mother and sister.
“They’ll want to know. Sometime before the wedding.”
“I’ll send them an invitation. I just don’t want to hear any crazy suggestions on how to do everything. They’ll want us to get married back in Denver, you know.”
“Would that be so bad?”
“Yes! They’ll want to help! Meaning they’ll want to run everything! And ruin everything! Let’s not even talk about my family.”
“You got it. So how was HonFest?
“Fun, but weird. I have no idea what to write about it. I love vintage, but not all vintage. I’m iffy about the Fifties, and wearing pink sponge rollers in your hair with cat-eye glasses in a cartoon of a house dress? And I’m pretty sure full-sleeve tattoos were rare on Fifties housewives.”
“Nah, those gals were tough. Like Rosie the Riveter but with an anchor tattoo. We’ll get you one that says ‘Born to Rivet, Hon.’ ”
“That better not be another smirk, Vic Donovan.”
He drew her into a hug. “I like you just the way you are. But you’d be cute in a beehive. Poodle skirt. Saddle shoes.” He laughed and patted her hair. “Maybe for the wedding.”
“In your dreams, buddy. How about those steaks?”
She took the pins out of her hair and shook it free, combing her fingers through the matted tangles from Stella’s back-combing. Vic tossed the steaks and corn on the grill. Lacey enjoyed the sizzle. He moved behind her, putting his arms around her and resting his chin on her head. They stayed there a moment admiring the end of the day from her balcony above the river.
The heat had moderated, and now it was pleasantly warm. The sky was soft, the river full of boats with white sails, bright against the water as the sun set. Gulls gathered on wooden posts at the river’s edge where the green trees grew thick. Lacey spied an osprey aloft, fishing, and shaded her eyes. Vic handed her his binoculars for a better look. Like a Boy Scout, always prepared. The shadows deepened and the twilight advanced. The steaks were ready. Lacey and Vic settled down to eat just as the moon rose, a bright gold disc over the river. She never tired of it.
Leaning back in her white patio chair after dinner, Lacey felt full of steak and contentment. “I should go to Baltimore more often, if this is what happens when I get home.”
“Don’t have to go to Baltimore for that.” He made her smile.
“I’ll pencil you in.”
“So, Nigel drooling over your ring was the highlight of HonFest?”
“Oh, there were other highlights.” Unhappy Amy Keaton and her unhealthy red face came to mind. Lacey summarized the encounter for Vic.
“Hold on!” He frowned. “You saw this woman yesterday and she turns up again today?”
“Coincidence. You know what a small world D.C. is.”
“You know I don’t like coincidences. I’m glad she’s LaToya’s problem. She is LaToya’s problem, right?”
“Definitely. I’ll contact LaToya tomorrow and see when she can pick up the calamitous costume. I’m sure I can’t convince her to just give it back, but I’ll try that too.”
“You could take it to work with you. Give it back to here there.”
“It’s a lot to haul around on the Metro.”
“You could drive.”
“I could, but driving into D.C. on a Monday morning seems like an unnecessarily frantic way to start the week.” Besides, Lacey enjoyed walking to the King Street Station and reading on the ride to work.
“Just get rid of the thing,” Vic said.
“Making you nervous?”
“Not me. I merely remember the last old dress you got involved with.”
Oh yes. The “lethal black dress.” The fact that the black dress had dispatched a broadcast reporter to the Great Beyond was beside the point.
“That one was black, not red. It was a beautiful dress, and I wasn’t dating it, Vic. I was simply the first one to realize what really happened. Are you staying over tonight? You want to keep me from getting too involved with the Red Dress?” She winked at him.
“I’d love to, but I can’t. Duty calls. However, I can stay for a while.”
“I’ll settle for a while. For now.”
The setting sun threw a crimson glow over the Potomac River beneath the moon, but there was no one watching it from Lacey’s balcony.
