Rosa held the books tightly to her chest. “I know. I’m just curious by nature.”
“Curiosity killed the cat.”
“Don’t bring Diego into this. He doesn’t even know I’m here.”
Miguel’s lips twitched, before forming a full smile, dimples and all. “At least leave a book for me.”
Rosa nodded her chin to the one still in his hand. “That’s the best one, anyway.”
The aisle between the shelving was barely wide enough for two people to pass through, especially with the swing skirt she wore and the full crinoline! Rosa vowed to wear slender pencil dresses from now on.
She took a step to bypass Miguel. He did the same, forcing them to step into each other, closing the distance between their faces. Miguel’s copper eyes reflected brightly in the lamplight.
Rosa swallowed and took another sidestep, but Miguel instinctively did the same. They were trapped in an awkward dance!
“Excuse me,” Rosa muttered. She waited until Miguel had stepped aside, then brushed past. If she’d hoped he’d stay put, or continue in the other direction, she was to be disappointed. Miguel stepped out of the aisle right behind her.
Rosa’s eyes landed on the obscure door at the rear of the building. A glance at Miguel confirmed that he was doing the same. That door led to the community park, to the place where they had had their first kiss, and where they had said their heart-wrenching goodbyes.
Oh dear.
She had to get out of there.
Rosa hurried to the checkout desk, keeping her eyes on Miss Cumberbatch, who performed her duties perfunctorily, completely oblivious to Rosa’s distress. When the last book had been date stamped, Rosa practically ran out of the library, leaving without another word to Miguel.
Her feelings for Miguel couldn’t be more obvious than if she raised them up a flagpole on a windy day.
17
As with the rest of the mansion, the dining room was well outfitted with modern furniture—a long, sleek Danish table built for eight filled the center of the room and a matching buffet and hutch lined a peach-colored wall. Looking rather spritely in a yellow and blue floral dress, Grandma Sally sat at the table along with Aunt Louisa, Gloria, and Clarence.
Rosa, having waited in the driveway until she had full emotional composure, headed for the table with a smile on her face. “Hi, everyone.”
Señora Gomez carried a large platter of roasted chicken into the dining room and set it in the center of the table.
“Señora Gomez,” Rosa said cheerily. “Smells delectable!”
Rosa claimed a seat nearest Clarence, nodded subtly, and then turned to her aunt. “Aunt Louisa, how was your day?”
“Good enough. Nothing new to report.”
“I, for one, had a fabulous day,” Gloria said, helping herself to a bowl filled with mashed potatoes. “I got a new hairdo.” She patted her blonde locks. “Excluding Rosa, I can’t believe none of the rest of you noticed!”
“I noticed, dear,” Aunt Louisa said dryly. “It makes you look older.”
Rosa wasn’t sure if her aunt meant it as a criticism, but Gloria didn’t take it that way.
“I look more mature, don’t I?” she said. “I want to be taken more seriously.”
Clarence snorted into his fist.
“Clarence!” Gloria protested, then appealed to Aunt Louisa. “Mother?”
“Clarence, the wise know when to keep their thoughts to themselves.”
Grandma Sally muttered, “Which is exactly why I’m not saying anything.”
Gloria’s distress leaned toward the volcanic, and Rosa hurried to ward off an emotional explosion. “As I said earlier, Gloria, I think you look lovely. It’s only a tad difficult to get used to your new look, but you’ll most certainly be the envy of your friends.”
“Oh, thank you, Rosa,” Gloria said before turning on her family. “See, why can’t you all be a bit more encouraging?”
“I am encouraging,” Clarence said. “I had a tickle in my nose and you mistook my intention.”
As Rosa passed the salad and potatoes around, Gloria asked, “So how is your investigation going?”
It was a benign question, and coming from anyone else, Rosa’s heart wouldn’t have skipped a beat, but she couldn’t forget about the library books signed out by Gloria.
“I wouldn’t know,” Rosa said. “It’s not really my investigation.”
“I think they should shut that monstrosity down and send it on its way,” Grandma Sally said. “I don’t like the crowds.”
Aunt Louisa’s fork paused midair. “Mother, when was the last time you went to town, much less to the boardwalk?”
“Maybe I’d go more if my only daughter would take me.”
Aunt Louisa’s eyes darted to Rosa, who immediately felt the stab of her step-grandmother’s faux pas. Rosa’s mother, Ginger, had been a child of eight when Sally Hartigan married her father, George. Rosa knew the story about how her maternal grandmother had died shortly after her mother was born, and that Sally was the only mother Ginger Reed had ever known.
Grandma Sally’s watery eyes registered how she’d misspoken. “You know what I mean. I love Ginger, but she doesn’t live here, does she? She can’t very well drive me around.”
“I can take you out,” Rosa offered.
Grandma Sally let out a quick, short breath. “It seems to me that you are fairly busy doing whatever it is you do when you’re gone. You’re hardly home.”
Rosa felt the sting of her step-grandmother’s chastisement. The elderly lady was lonely, and Rosa determined to carve out time to spend watching television with Grandma Sally the next time her favorite shows were on. She cast a glance at Clarence, a renewed sense of respect filling her, as she realized, whether her cousin sincerely enjoyed the daytime soap operas or not, he spent the time with his grandmother.
The conversation turned to the weather, which was a rather mundane topic in this part of the world. Fortunately, the doorbell rang and interrupted the bland interaction.
“Who on earth can that be?” Grandma Sally said with a hand to her chest. Times of surprise often brought out the strength of her Bostonian accent. Her wrinkled lips tightened, and she
