Last night’s storm had left behind a picture-perfect Sunday morning. The air was cool, the sky a beautiful blue, the light breeze just enough to stir the chimes. The only thing missing was Sam. Gwen wished she had stayed for breakfast. Bertha, on the other hand, had invited herself for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Indefinitely. She had refused to leave with Samantha.
Captivated by crows on the property, and focused on a particular bird who had taken an intense interest in her, Bertha had acted like a defiant teenager when it came time to leave. She’d hopped around in the grass, just out of Sam’s reach, letting her get close, then darting away.
“Don’t you want to come home with Sam-Sam?”
Nope, she’d cawed, and after several unsuccessful attempts at nabbing her, Samantha gave up and agreed to let her stay for a few days. But when Bertha had heard the motor of Samantha’s car, she’d panicked like a child watching a parent leave. It seemed Bertha wanted to stay, but she didn’t want Samantha to go.
Flying out and landing in the driveway where Gwen stood waving good-bye, Bertha ran along the gravel, chasing the black Range Rover on foot until Gwen caught up and offered her arm as a perch. All those black feathers couldn’t hide the expression of worry on Bertha’s face. Gwen softly kissed the crow’s cheek, and when the SUV disappeared from sight, she allowed Gwen to walk her back to the house.
Raucous voices of unseen crows came from the trees, but in the grass a silent and solitary crow kept a watchful eye on Bertha. Perched on the edge of the porch table now, Bertha nibbled on toast, scrambled eggs, and an assortment of fruit. Gwen rubbed the bird’s neck and smiled affectionately, momentarily distracted from Rosa’s sulkiness. It irritated her that Rosa pretended not to speak good English in Sam’s presence, and with Samantha gone she was back to babbling in English. Granted, her accent was heavy, her grammar not always correct, but she spoke with fluency.
“Why don’t you like Ms. Weller?” she flatly asked.
“Did I say I don’t like her?”
“You certainly act like you don’t, so let’s clear up any misunderstandings right now.”
Rosa folded her arms, her bottom lip protruding in something of a pout.
Gwen waited. “Well…?”
Rosa huffed and puffed and finally answered. “I don’t like the way that dog shows itself to her.”
Gwen’s brow furrowed. “Why do you say ‘that dog’ like she’s some kind of intruder? It’s Alley. You knew and loved her when she was alive.”
“Sí, when she was alive. She doesn’t belong here anymore.”
“I know that. We all know that. And I would help her move on if I could, but I can’t. I don’t know how.”
As much as it had comforted her to see Alley in the beginning—to lay eyes on proof of life after death—Gwen sometimes couldn’t bear to see her stuck between worlds, so forlorn, sorrowful. More and more, Alley seemed depleted of the energy needed to cross that proverbial Rainbow Bridge, and Gwen feared her soul might be growing stagnant. “You know it breaks my heart to see her trapped where she died, but yesterday with Samantha she was so,” Gwen shrugged and shook her head, “so animated, happy…more connected to this world than I’ve ever seen her.”
“Tell me this,” Rosa said. “When I see her in the corner of my eye and then look right at her, what happens?”
Gwen regarded her tentatively. “She disappears. Isn’t that what you always say?”
“Sí! And you can look right at her all day long, but what happens when you walk down there to get closer?”
“She…she disappears.”
“Sí! So why she let Señora Weller get so close?”
“I don’t have an answer, Rosa. All I know is that Alley likes Samantha. And I love that Samantha has the emotional and spiritual capacity to experience a ghost. It says a lot about her character.”
Rosa’s mouth tightened. “That…that espíritu,” she said with a wave of her hand, “has no interest in that woman. She’s using her to get to you.”
“Oh, come on now. Dramatica, dramatica…always such drama, Rosa.” Gwen brought a hand to her face and rubbed her forehead to fend off the headache her housekeeper was giving her.
Rosa narrowed her dark eyes. “I know you have feelings for that woman. And that fantasma knows it, too.”
“Nonsense.” A piece of scrambled egg fell from Bertha’s beak onto Gwen’s leg. She picked it off her thigh and threw it over the railing to Bertha’s gentleman caller standing in the grass. He gobbled it, obviously happy for the offering, and Gwen threw him a piece of toast to go with it.
“You think I’m loco?” Rosa shook her head. “In life, that dog never left your side. She knew everything you felt, all your moods. Isn’t that what you always say, that she could almost read your mind?”
“And what of it?”
“She can still read you. She senses what you feel…and she’ll find your weakness. That weakness will be her way to you.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“Just remember what I tell you.” Rosa pursed her lips and looked away. “Ten cuidado!”
“Be careful? Of what should I be careful?”
“Bringing that woman here.”
“Sam?” A flush of anger rose in Gwen’s cheeks. “I will tell you right now, Rosa. I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed someone’s company more, and I will not have her made to feel unwelcome in this house. Are we clear?”
Gwen heard the screen door open and looked up to see Loosey and Blue coming out, followed by Isabel in shorts and a T-shirt and holding a coffee cup.
Rosa turned around to see Isabel walking the length of the porch, then quickly turned back and leaned forward on her elbows. “I’m warning you, that espíritu is up to no good.”
“Good morning, darling,” Gwen called out cheerfully as Isabel approached, and then she raised a reprimanding eyebrow at Rosa and lowered her voice. “Enough of this ridiculous talk.”
Isabel’s face lit up when she caught sight of the crow. “Oh my God, is that Bertha the celebrity crow?”
“In the flesh.” Gwen flashed a smile.
Loosey and Blue lifted their noses to smell Bertha, but when the crow turned and stabbed their noses with her formidable beak, they both decided the scrambled eggs were of greater interest.
Isabel sat down next to Gwen and looked between her and Rosa as if sensing the tension. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” Gwen said with another forced and perfectly peaceful smile.
“You’re so beautiful, Bertha,” Isabel cooed. Gently she stroked the bird’s neck. And then she asked, “Where’s Sam? I saw her car when I pulled in late last—” She blushed.
Gwen knew it had suddenly struck Isabel that she and Samantha had spent the night together. “I insisted Sam stay in the guest room because of the weather…and because she had a little too much to drink after seeing a ghost.”
Isabel looked at her. “Alley?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Why am I the only one who never sees anything?” she said, seeming almost disappointed. “Even Liz described feeling a presence when we walked around the pond the other day.”
“Did she now? Hmm…how interesting.” Gwen nodded. She liked the idea of Liz being emotionally uninhibited enough to perceive the extrasensory. She’d actually gotten that vibe from her when they first met. And the thought that Liz might be getting another kind of vibe from Isabel pleased her most of all. “Well, suffice it to say Sam experienced a lot more than a presence.” She stopped to drink the last of her coffee.
Rosa smiled at Isabel. “So? How was your night out, chica?”
“We had a great time,” Isabel said, and then she blushed again, as though worried her feelings for Liz might be transparent.
And they were. Gwen could tell she’d enjoyed herself. “I’m so glad the two of you hit it off. Any plans to see her again?”
“She’s going to help me decorate.”
“Oh? What will you be decorating?”
“Well…” Isabel chewed on a fingernail for a second and then stared into her coffee cup. “I was thinking the other day that, um…that maybe I should move out.”
“Out?” Gwen raised her brow in surprise. “You mean off the estate?”
“No…more like into the empty cottage…you know, to give you more privacy in the house.”
“I see. And it would give you more privacy as well…and you and Rosa would get to be neighbors.” Gwen winked at Rosa and stifled a laugh. “I think it’s a fabulous idea.”
Isabel seemed surprised. “You do?”
“Absolutely. And it’s very nice of Liz to offer her services, considering she’s an interior designer.”
“I proposed hiring her, but she refused. She wants to do it with me.”
“How generous of her. I’m sure she’ll make it beautiful.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” Isabel hesitated. “She’s going away this weekend to shop for furniture and, um,” she squirmed in her chair, tucked her hair behind both ears, “she wanted me to go with her, thinking we’d get some decorating ideas for the—”
“Go!” Gwen said before Isabel could even finish her sentence.
“I don’t think I can. Lori at the shelter needs help trapping some feral—”
“Isabel,” Gwen said, “the shelter will be there when you get back. Go have fun.”
“But I’d have to take Monday off, and I have an important morning meeting scheduled.”
“Your father will handle it.”
“I’ll feed the cats for you,” Rosa offered.
“And I’ll watch the dogs,” Gwen said.
“Liz told me I could take them.”
“The dogs? How sweet of her to invite them along. And you know Blue, who couldn’t care less about people, is crazy about her.”
Isabel put her head down and nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
“There’s nothing to think about, Isabel. Tell her you’ll go.”
“But—”
“Isabel?” Gwen arched an eyebrow and used her sternest tone. “It’s settled. Call Liz today and accept her invitation.”
Isabel chewed her fingernail again and then put her hands in her lap and didn’t say anything more.
Gwen was not easily aggravated, but between Isabel and Rosa—the virginal niece and the histrionic clairvoyant—she’d had just about enough. Last night had been a special evening with a remarkable woman, and all Gwen wanted was to sit alone and process these unexpected feelings Sam stirred in her. The moment she had laid eyes on Sam—or was it as early as their first phone conversation?—she’d known instinctively that she could fall in love, fall as hard as the smitten crow who was courting Bertha.
He flew up onto the low branch of a nearby tulip tree and called to her. Bertha hopped to the porch railing and paced back and forth until caution gave way to curiosity and she mustered the courage to fly out and join her admirer on the same branch.
While Rosa and Isabel sat watching the two crows, Gwen disappeared into the house. “Excuse me,” she said. “I need more coffee.” And after pouring another cup she took the opportunity to sneak through the house to the back porch. The soft chirping of songbirds came through the screens. She plumped a pillow and settled into a yellow wicker chair with her coffee to quietly ponder both the mystery writer and the mystery of love.
* * *
Liz was relaxing in bed with coffee and The New York Times when the bell rang. She shuffled through the dark living room and felt the wall for the intercom. “Yes?” she said, and when the caller spoke she immediately recognized Sam’s voice.
“I need to talk,” Samantha said.
“What are you doing down there?”
“The pressing question is how do I get up there?”
“What’s the password?” Liz asked.
“Bacon and egg on a roll.”
“How would you like your coffee, miss?”
“Milk, two sugars. Why do I feel like I’m at a drive-thru?”
“Thanks for your order. Please drive around to the sixth floor.” Liz buzzed her in, gathered plates and napkins on a tray, and by the time Samantha got off the elevator and to the door, she had Sam’s coffee waiting on the night table opposite hers.
Samantha walked in with a broad smile. “Top of the morning to you,” she said, handing Liz the breakfast bag and walking past her.
“I would have made breakfast for us if you had called, but thank you. I was getting hungry.”
As Samantha wandered into the dark living room, Liz grabbed her by the hand and pulled her down the hallway to the bedroom with its unmade bed. Samantha paused in the doorway. “We’re having coffee in bed?”
“We always have coffee in bed on Sunday morning.”
“We do?”
“Yes.” Liz gathered up sections of the newspaper on the bed and dropped them onto the floor.
“Your coffee is on the night table,” she said, placing a tray in the middle of the bed and climbing back in. “Why are you in the city today, and why so early? I figured you would have been with Gwen until late last night.”
“I slept there.”
Liz stared. “You slept with her?”
“I said I slept there, not with her. She wouldn’t let me drive home because of the storm…and because of other unforeseen circumstances, which I’ll tell you about in a moment. Of course, I would have slept with her, but all she offered me was a toothbrush, a T-shirt, and the guest room.” Samantha pointed to the wall. “I love these.” She stopped to examine the Maxfield Parrish women on her way around to the other side of the bed. “Anyway,” she said, stepping up to the first print, “we were up early having coffee on the porch, and she wanted me to stay for breakfast, but I have to deliver a manuscript tomorrow and need to sit and read through the entire thing today.”
“Where’s Bertha?”
“With Gwen.”
“You left your crow there? I’m shocked.”
“Not as shocked as Bertha was to discover she’s a crow and not a person.” Samantha talked with her back to Liz as she moved from one print to the other. “Bertha had a bad attitude this morning…suspicion mixed with resentment. She finally figured out she’s adopted and that I’ve been hiding the truth of her identity. And worse yet, there’s a boy-crow hot on her trail. Can you believe that?” She turned and faced Liz. “I feel like the mother of a teenage daughter who wants to start dating. I want to meet his parents.”
Liz laughed. “Well, the good news is that you have another excuse to go back there. Very clever, Sam.”
Samantha grinned. “That, too.” She stood at the foot of the bed and looked around the room. “It’s really beautiful in here. Very romantic. I can understand why you like to eat in bed.”
“It’s not like I serve dinner in here, silly.” She fluffed the pillows and shams on Sam’s side and patted the bed. “Come on, climb in. Don’t be afraid.”
Samantha looked at her askance as she kicked off her shoes. “All right, but don’t try anything funny, because I’m saving myself for Dr. Laraway.”
“Don’t worry. You’re completely safe. I’m saving myself for the young Ms. Laraway.”
Samantha drank from her cup. “Good coffee. Thanks,” she said as she got in bed. “So how was the book auction?”
“It wasn’t just books. It was ephemera.”
“Ephemera? As in ephemeral?”
“Precisely. Things that deteriorate over time: books, prints, posters, postcards, magazines, letters. Things made of paper don’t survive the test of time as well as other antiques, which means fewer of them exist, and that can make them very valuable.”
“I get it. Between you, Gwen, and Isabel, I’m on my way to becoming an honorary antiquarian.” Sam took two sandwiches from the bag on the tray and handed one to Liz. “Did you have a good evening with the heiress apparent?”
“Oh God, Sam! Did you have to say that?” Liz let her head fall back against the shams and stared at the ceiling. “Shit, she is an heiress, isn’t she?”
“I believe that’s the proper title for a young woman who stands to inherit the family fortune.”
“Stop!” Liz said, groaning and running her fingers through her hair. “I can’t even think about it.” She looked over at Sam. “Are we pathetic? Look at us, both under the spell of the Laraway women.”
Samantha set her cup on the tray, stretched out alongside Liz, and propped herself on her elbow. “You really like her, huh?”
“Like her? I’m crazy for her.”
“You think she might have tendencies?”
“Tendencies? Isabel’s a sexy little dyke disguised in heels and a skirt suit. She just doesn’t know it yet. Or maybe she does and it scares her.”
“So nothing happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Aww…the serial seductress didn’t score, huh?”
“That’s not exactly true. Getting her up here for coffee was a score.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t at least kiss her.”
“Isabel is pure and unspoiled, and I’m trying to keep my thoughts that way.”
“Gwen thinks Isabel has a crush on you.”
“Whaaat?” Liz sat up, nearly spilling her coffee. “Did she really say ‘crush’? Did she actually use that word?”
“She did.” Samantha bit into her bacon sandwich. “Gwen had no idea you were gay, and when I told her you were, she seemed thrilled that Isabel had taken a liking to you.”
“You’re kidding me—Gwen was thrilled?”
“She was. She more or less said that Isabel’s never cared for men. So go for it.”
“Nope. I woke up thinking about Isabel,” Liz said as they ate, “and I’ve decided I will not make any sexual advances. Romantic overtures, maybe, but nothing physical. If she makes a first move I will gladly take the lead, but I promise to restrain myself.”
“Why restrain?”
“Because I really, really like her, Sam, and I’d be terribly upset with myself if I scared her off and lost her as a friend. I’m fine with letting her set the pace as long as I know she wants me.” Liz smiled. “Isabel is so worth waiting for.”
“No doubt she’s worth the wait…but this behavior is sort of out of character for you, isn’t it?”
“Very out of character,” she said, squinting at Samantha’s lips as she talked.
“What’s wrong? Do I have food stuck?” Samantha picked up a napkin to wipe her mouth.
Liz stopped her and pushed the napkin away. “No, no food, but…” She reached with a fingertip and lightly rubbed the side of Samantha’s upper lip. “I’m seeing the hint of a mustache there, Sam. You need to let me wax that for you.”
“Hey.” Samantha pulled away. “Leave my mustache alone.” She smiled and pretended to smooth it out. “It’s taken me over forty years to grow it.”
“I seriously hope you’re joking,” Liz said, but then her cell phone rang, and she reached for it on the night table. When she saw the number she jumped out of bed. “Oh my God, it’s Isabel.” She put a finger to her lips and left the room.
In a few minutes she was back, jumping up and down, grinning like a maniac. “Isabel said yes. She said yes! She’s coming with me next weekend.”
“What? Where?”
Liz danced around the room, then crawled back in bed on her knees, sat back on her heels, and bounced excitedly. “Last night she asked if I would decorate the empty cottage with her, and since I was planning to drive up to Maine for a furniture hunt, I suggested she come along. I didn’t expect her to say yes.” She grinned again. “This is so great. I get Isabel and the dogs for three whole days!”
“You’re staying with your parents?”
“We’ll stop for dinner, but we’ll stay at the cabin. I want to take her kayaking and show her I’m not the city girl she thinks I am. And best of all, I’m hoping my dad can pull some strings and take Isabel to the speedway. Did you know she loves muscle cars and drives a Mustang?”
“Gwen mentioned it last night, but I didn’t see it this morning. I guess it was garaged. I never would have pegged her for driving a Mustang.”
“Me neither. And her dream is to race a car. I want to make that happen.”
“Making that dream come true should earn you a few brownie points.”
“My walnut brownies already earned me brownie points.”
“You have brownies?”
“Yeah. You want some?”
“Sure. Not right now, though. Tell me about Craig. You think he can set something up for Isabel?”
“You know my dad. If it has anything to do with cars, he’ll arrange it.”
“Hmm…” Samantha smiled. “So this is next weekend, huh? That leaves Gwen home alone. I might take advantage of the situation.” But then Samantha’s smile turned to a frown. “Any chance of taking Rosa with you?”
Liz rolled her eyes. “Geez, Sam, what is it with you and Rosa?”
“Ask Rosa. She hates me. Why, I don’t know.”
“Maybe she’s just being protective and questioning your romantic interest in Gwen.”
“Well, last night was not exactly conducive to romance.” She paused and studied Liz. “I need to tell you something. And I don’t want you to think I’m crazy.”
“What happened? Tell me.”
Samantha took a deep breath, puffed her cheeks, and blurted out, “I saw a ghost there yesterday. As clear as day. The ghost of Gwen’s dog.”
Samantha waited for Liz to burst out laughing, but she didn’t. Instead her jaw dropped open. She put her sandwich down, wiped her hands on a napkin, and rearranged herself so that she now sat cross-legged, staring at Samantha. “By the pond, right? Tell me you saw it by the pond.”
“Yes, by the pond. That’s where the dog drowned. I saw it from the kitchen window the day we went there, but Rosa blew me off when I asked about it, so I figured it was just a neighbor’s dog that had wandered onto the property. And then yesterday when I arrived, Blue was sitting in the grass watching the same dog. I swear it looked like a real dog, and it was happy to see me…so I walked down there and got close. Almost close enough to touch. I think maybe I did touch it before Gwen screamed and made me leave it alone.”
Liz just listened intently and kept nodding.
“Gwen sees her, too,” Samantha said. “She says her spirit seems confined to the area where she died.”
“I knew it. I just knew I felt something there. While Isabel and I were walking I distinctly felt something brush up against my leg, and after that I felt—I don’t know, it’s hard to explain—a heavy presence, a pressure around me like something was standing there. I told Isabel, but I don’t think she believed me.”
“Gwen implied that her niece is sort of repressed when it comes to opening up and allowing herself to experience the more spiritual side of life.” Samantha closed her eyes and shook her head and breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad you believe me.”
“Oh, I believe you, Sam. I do.” Liz drank her coffee and thought for a moment. “A ghost-dog. Wow…this is so incredible.”
Samantha rambled on, recounting every detail of her stormy night with Gwen. So lost was she in sharing the life-altering experience of seeing a ghost that she seemed not to notice Liz getting up and coming back with a waxing strip for her upper lip.
Another pot of coffee and an hour later they were still talking, lost in conversation about their shared new world: a wondrous world, rich and heady, filled with spirits and rising passions.