“Get used to it,” Hannah said. “I’m scared every minute of every day.”
“You are?” Jory looked at her in surprise. “How do you deal with it?”
“Not very well, apparently. But I keep on going.”
“Just forget about the big questions for now, Jory,” Des urged her. “Focus on small steps. Right now, we’re making breakfast. Later on, we’ll do lunch.”
“That reminds me,” Jory said, nodding her head. “When Mitch was getting his coffee he started talking about making us a giant vat of something called American chop suey.”
“That’s my doughboy.” Des smiled.
“I’m not even sure what that is. Any idea what’s in it?”
“Trust me, girl. You don’t ever want to know.”
Compared to the kitchen, it felt practically tropical in the taproom. A kerosene space heater was putting out genuine warmth, and a fire was crackling in the fireplace. Les and Ada were seated at a table before the fire with Aaron and Carly. Teddy was off by himself in the Sunset Lounge, playing a slow, painfully heartfelt rendition of “More Than You Know.”
“Breakfast will be ready soon,” Des announced softly.
“Thanks, Des,” Les said distractedly, running a hand through his uncombed hair.
“Does Teddy have to keep playing that same damned song?” demanded Aaron, the only one of them who was not clad in something warm and fuzzy. He was dressed as he’d been last night, in a crisp dress shirt, bow tie and blazer. Apparently, he never wore anything else. Aaron’s unshaven face offered the only hint that this was not a totally normal morning. His stubble was white, in sharp contrast to his jet-black hair and eyebrows. Des couldn’t help wondering if he dyed them. “He’s been playing it over and over again.”
“Leave him be,” commanded Ada, who still had on her wool robe. “The music soothes Teddy.”
“Well, it’s driving me nuts. And it’s my mother who’s dead and I think I deserve a little consideration.”
“Acky, shut up,” snapped Carly. She wore her mink over a bulky white sweater and stirrup pants. Her long blond hair was pulled back into a tight pony tail, and she had on no makeup. Compared to the blond bombshell of last night, Carly looked not only older but surprisingly plain.
Aaron glared across the table at her, his nose twitching. “What did you say to me?”
“She said shut up.” Ada calmly sipped her herbal tea. “And that goes double for me. Show some consideration.”
“For what?”
“Other people’s feelings,” she replied, her eyes glinting at him like hard, precious gems.
Des stood there thinking that this shrewd old lady did know about Norma and Teddy.
“Why don’t you join us, dear?” she asked Des graciously. “It’s so nice and toasty here by the fire.”
“Thanks, I think I will.” Des pulled up a chair and sat, her muscles feeling stiff and shivery from the cold. The bright morning sunlight had dimmed. The storm clouds were moving in.
“Aaron, there’s something serious we need to discuss,” Les said uneasily. “It has to do with how Norma wanted to leave things.”
“Do you mean her estate?” Aaron arched his eyebrow at him.
Les nodded. “Our attorney here in town, Whit Conover, drew up an agreement when she and I got married. Did Norma ever discuss it with you?”
Aaron shot a curious glance over at Carly before he said, “Why, no.” His manner was very guarded now. “Why, Les, was she supposed to?”
“She was, yes.” Les sipped at the dregs of his coffee. “She promised me she would. I’m surprised she didn’t, given the state of her health. Then again, I guess she didn’t want to think about it. We never do, do we? I feel I ought to fill you in now-in my capacity as executor of her estate.”
“You re the executor?” Aaron appeared thrown by this. “How can you be? Surely you’re the beneficiary.”
Les shook his head at him. “Six years ago, when things were starting to get serious between us, Norma sat me down in this very room, poured me a Scotch, and said, ‘Lester, you may want out when I tell you what I’m about to tell you.’ Christ, I thought she was going to tell me she had incurable insanity in her family.”
“Oh, she does,” Ada said. “Most assuredly.”
“She simply wanted me to know that when she died, Astrid’s Castle would pass to you, Aaron. She and her brother, Herbert, agreed ages ago that that’s how it would be-they’d leave it to their children. Herbert never had any. She had you. Therefore, you now are the sole proprietor of Astrid’s Castle.”
“Oh my God,” Carly whispered, flabbergasted. Des would have paid cash money to see the expression on her face. Too bad Carly couldn’t formulate one. All she could manage was a stricken blank.
As for Aaron, he was goggle-eyed, his face drained of color.
“This was understood between us from the get-go,” Les explained. “Whit drew up a pre-nuptual agreement specifying it, and I was happy to sign it. It didn’t matter to me. She mattered.” He glanced at Aaron curiously. “You didn’t know this?”
“Les, she never said one word to me about it,” Aaron said huskily. “I just… I assumed you would be taking over. Frankly, I thought that’s why you married her.”
Les bristled, greatly offended. “Thanks a lot, pal. It’s nice to know what you think of me after all of these years.”
“Forgive me for being honest, Les,” Aaron said. “If you’d rather I lie to you, I certainly will.”
“I’d rather you go screw yourself.”
“Look, I am aware that you were very fond of Mother,” Aaron acknowledged, retreating somewhere over near the neighborhood of an apology. “I didn’t mean for that to sound so harsh.”
“No, I’m sure you did,” Les said angrily. “You’re known for choosing your words carefully. Hell, you’re goddamned famous for it.” Les got up and went over to the window, his shoulders noticeably hunched. In mourning, the ruddy innkeeper seemed older and frailer. “I simply wanted you to know that I’d be happy to stay on in an employee capacity, if you wish,” he said, gazing out at the frozen river and the snow-capped hills of Essex beyond. “I’m sure Jory and Jase would like to stay on, too.”
“Les, it’ll be months before Norma ‘s estate is settled,” Carly pointed out. “Aren’t we getting a bit ahead of ourselves?”
“Not if Aaron wants to keep the inn open while we’re in probate,” he replied. “Our food and liquor suppliers will have to be taken care of, our kitchen staff paid. We’re running a business here.”
“Well, I certainly don’t wish to run it,” Aaron said loftily.
“Like I said, I’m happy to stay on,” Les persisted. “But I can’t access the inn’s accounts without some form of temporary legal authority. We have to sit down with Whit and draw up an agreement.”
“Les, my mother is dead upstairs,” Aaron said frostily. “I don’t wish to talk about food and liquor suppliers right now, okay?”
Les held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Fine, some other time. But if it’s not soon then I’ll have to contact the guests who’ve booked reservations and tell them we’re shutting down.”
“Do not try to strong-arm me,” Aaron warned him.
“I’m not trying to strong-arm you, Aaron. I’m simply explaining the reality of our situation to you so we can deal with it responsibly. This mattered to Norma. It mattered a great deal.”
“Relax, Acky.” Carly reached over and patted Aaron’s hand. “Les is just as upset as you are.”
“I should think more so,” Ada said. “After all, he’s the one whose life has been turned completely upside down.”
“Wait one second…” Aaron said suddenly, his eyes narrowing at Les. “It just occurred to me what this is all about. You’re afraid I’m going to sell this place to some big hotel chain, aren’t you? And then you’ll be out of a job and a home. That’s what this is really about, am I right, Les? Tell me I’m right.”
Les refused to respond. Just moseyed over to the pool table and rolled a ball against a cushion, watching as it caromed back toward him.
“I have no intention of selling Astrid’s Castle,” Aaron assured him. “Mother would want it to stay in the family. As far as I’m concerned, you can continue to run it for as long as you choose.”
“Thank you, Aaron,” Les said faintly. “That’s good to know.”
“After all, I happen to enjoy a seven-figure income,” Aaron boasted. “It’s not as if I’ll need the money anytime soon-or ever, for that matter.”
