Friday Evening
Ginny glanced up as the door to the powder room opened and a thin, middle-aged woman in a pale yellow, tea-length dress entered. She smiled into the mirror and the reflection of Elaine Larson smiled back.
Ginny knew the assistant librarian moderately well, but only through the library. She was from South Carolina, as were many of Ginny’s ancestors, and had been of particular genealogical help more than once. Ginny liked listening to the slow, southern vowels that rolled off Elaine’s tongue and the soft-spoken manner in which she handled even the toughest library visitor.
“Hiding?” Elaine asked, dropping into the other chair.
“Sort of. I needed a break before the dinner begins.”
Elaine nodded. “It’s quite an affair. I almost didn’t come after hearing what happened to Professor Craig.”
Ginny nodded. “It’s probably better this way. ‘The show must go on’ and all that.”
“Yes, well, Mrs. Campbell isn’t going to let anything stop her, that’s for sure.”
“So who’s going to get Professor Craig’s job?” Ginny asked, concentrating on her makeup.
“Well, as a matter of fact, I am. Probably. They’ve put me in as acting head. It will have to go before the board and be voted on before it can be made official, but I’ve been told that’s just a formality.”
“Oh, Elaine! I’m so happy for you. This will be a great help to you professionally, won’t it?”
“Yes, it will. I’m just sorry it had to happen this way instead of his retiring or something of that sort.”
Ginny shook her head. “You mustn’t let that upset you. People die and the jobs have to be filled. Don’t give it another thought.”
Elaine nodded. “I guess I feel guilty because he and I didn’t always get along. It’s as if his ghost is hanging over me, frowning.”
Ginny looked up and caught the other women’s eye. “Focus on the good you’ll be able to do now.”
Elaine smiled. “I do have a few things I’d like to try.”
“I thought you might. Well,” Ginny sighed. “I’d better get back so dinner can start. I have to lift the first fork and would you believe the whole thing is choreographed? Timed right down to the last minute.”
“Hang on, I’ll come with you.”
As the two made their way back into the main body of the house, Elaine froze.
“Oh, look! There he is!”
“Who?” Ginny asked.
Elaine gestured at a stout, ruddy-complexioned man with a meticulously groomed full beard and moustache who might have been handsome but for the expression on his face. He lowered over the man to whom he was speaking, his mouth stretched in a smile, his eyes angry.
“That man was at the library on Wednesday making the most ungentlemanly fuss.”
“Tell me everything.” Ginny listened shamelessly, aware that gossip was a sin and an unreliable one at that, but unwilling to be left out of the loop.
“There were a pair of them. First there was the process server.”
“Process server?” Ginny’s eyes grew wider.
“Yes. He came in quietly enough, asking which one was Professor Craig, and I pointed him out, not thinking anything about it. We get people asking for him all the time.”
“Of course. Go on.”
“Well, the next thing I knew, they were face to face in the middle of the room. He requested a positive identification from the Professor, then handed him a sheaf of papers, explained he was being sued, wished him a good day, turned on his heel, and walked out leaving us all standing there with our mouths open.”
“Sued? What for?”
“Breach of contract.” Elaine nodded in the direction of the stranger. “As soon as the process server left, that man—one Mr. Samuel Adams, as it turned out—stepped forward and started making accusations. He pointed his finger at Professor Craig saying he was dissatisfied with the results of the research and was suing to recover his money.
“The Professor, naturally enough, said the fees were for the research and results could never be guaranteed. Professor Craig also suggested they step into his office to continue the discussion in private, but Mr. Adams would have none of that. He started shouting that he wanted everyone to know just how big a crook the Professor was and he was going to see him ruined, professionally and financially.”
“And?” Ginny asked, but Elaine fell silent, a polite smile settling on her face.
“Good evening, Mr. Williams.”
Ginny turned to find Hal bearing down on them. He nodded in Elaine’s direction then took Ginny by the arm and pulled her toward the banquet table. “Where have you been? We’ve been waiting for over ten minutes.”
“Oh, Hal! I’m so sorry. I was just powdering my nose and ran into Elaine on the way out. I do apologize.”
“Never mind. Just come on. The natives are getting restless and if we don’t feed them soon we may have a riot on our hands.” He pulled her arm through his and escorted her with the gravest courtesy to her seat at one end of the table, then took his place at the other.
* * *
The dinner was a typical catered affair, remarkable more for its visual appeal than for its taste, though Ginny had to admit the vegetables were fresh and well prepared. The seat assignments had been made by Mrs. Campbell and Ginny knew there must have been some last minute shuffling to accommodate the loss of Professor Craig, so it was with a certain amount of relief she found herself flanked by an aging patron, whom she knew and liked, on her right hand, and Jim Mackenzie on her left.
She turned to Jim first. “I believe you mentioned you had family in the area?”
He nodded. “My grandfather. He lives over near Loch Lonach.”
“It’s a nice neighborhood.”
“He has the old house all to himself and I think he likes it that way.”
“No other family?” Asking personal questions was tricky, but a certain amount of information had to be extracted before common ground could be identified, and he hadn’t yet told her whether the absence of a wedding band also meant the absence of a wife.
“Just me. My parents are gone and I was an only child.”
Ginny’s brow furrowed. “Wait a minute. Your grandfather, is that Angus Mackenzie?” She looked at Jim with more attention.
“Yes, it is. Do you know him?”
Ginny nodded. “I heard his family left the area.”
“We moved to Virginia when I was still a boy. Now that my parents are dead, I’ve come back to take care of the old man. Not that he sees it that way, of course. We hardly know each other, but family is family.”
Ginny looked at Jim with a growing respect. A grandson of Angus Mackenzie might be worth getting to know. “Will you be moving back into Loch Lonach?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what I’ll be doing. My apartment is near the hospital, for convenience’ sake, but I expect I’ll be spending some time over at the old house. It needs a lot of work.”
Ginny nodded. Her own parents’ home was in similar condition.
“I’m sure he’ll be very happy to have you back.”
“He’ll be glad about one thing, anyway.”
“What’s that?”
He grinned at Ginny. “He’s missed having someone to lecture. Now I’m back, I’ll have to spend some time sitting quietly and saying, ‘Yes, Grandfather,’ and ‘No, Grandfather,’ and listening to all the old stories again.”
“He has some good ones.”
“Yes, and he’ll consider it up to me to memorize them. He used to make a big point of the fact, how it would be my job to carry on once my father and he were gone.”
Ginny grinned. “Ancestors are like that. They can be very demanding.”
Jim leaned towards her, lowering his voice. “Yes, especially on the subject of descendants.”
Ginny couldn’t help laughing. “Is he demanding great-grandchildren from you?”
“Oh, yes, and very insistent on the point. He can’t understand why I’m so tardy about it.”
Ginny kept her eyes on her plate as she asked, “And why are you?”
“I haven’t met the right woman, yet, though I haven’t given up hope.”
She looked up to find Jim smiling at her, his wine glass in his hand and a speculative look in his eye. Ginny wasn’t above doing some speculating of her own, but her duties as hostess came first. She smiled, gave him a noncommittal nod, and turned to the old gentleman on her right.
* * *