Coffee Sonata (4 page)

*

“Thanks for the ride. Definitely better than a cab.” As the old-style elevator stopped at the fourth floor, Eryn pulled the gate aside and hoisted her heavy computer bag farther up on her shoulder. “This is where I get off.”

“My pleasure.” Manon sounded strange. “And again, thank you for being kind to me.”

“Hey, no problem. Just drink lots of fluids, okay?”

“Thank you. I’ll remember that.” Manon obviously had something else on her mind.

“Yes?” Eryn asked gently.

“You’re a reporter…and in my position, I have to be careful.”

“And you want to make sure this is all off the record.” Irrational disappointment shot through Eryn, making it even hard to speak.
Why do I care what she thinks?
“I thought we were just chatting.”

“The press hasn’t given me many opportunities to chat, I’m afraid.”

Manon’s reserved stance spoke volumes. Obviously she wasn’t going to encourage any warm and fuzzy heart-to-hearts between neighbors. The muscles in Eryn’s stomach clenched into a tight fist. Manon’s tone of voice, stiff, yet tinged with defeat, bothered her.
I wonder what she’s trying to hide. She’s clearly worried about something.

Eryn was annoyed that Manon apparently lumped her in with all the other reporters she mistrusted. And what ticked her off even more was her own reaction, her urge to assure Manon that everything was cool, that she had nothing to worry about.

“I’m sure the media’s given you a lot of attention. That can’t be easy,” Eryn said, and struggled to sound matter-of-fact. “Of course you’re suspicious. But if I ever try to interview you, you’ll know beforehand. Fair enough?” She tried a mischievous grin, which disarmed even Harold once in a while. “After all, we’re neighbors and I may need a ride again.”

A few seconds ticked by, then Manon smiled carefully and unfolded her arms. “You’re right. Neighbors should have an understanding.” She paused and checked her hair with quick, jerky fingers. Eryn wondered if she was
that
nervous. “If you need a ride and see Benjamin and the car, use it if it’s convenient. Besides, I can tell he likes you.”

And you? Do you like me? Or was that just a clever brush-off?

Eryn shook off her own bit of paranoia and waved to Manon before she closed the elevator gate. As the old monstrosity squeaked on up to the penthouse floor, Eryn stuck her key into her door lock and turned it absent-mindedly.

She simply couldn’t figure her illustrious neighbor out and her reporter’s antennae were buzzing. Manon was seen as a scion of the community, but there were suggestive whispers about her private life. She was also aloof, verging on rude. It didn’t add up. What had Vivian Harding said? East Quay’s true daughter?
Curiouser and curiouser. I’m going to do a little research and see what I can find out.
Eryn knew Manon was bound to be hiding something.

Tired beyond words, Eryn craved a hot bath and some red wine.
First things first.
Humming, as soon as she entered her apartment she walked over to her CD player and pressed play.
You can’t soak in the tub without Eric Clapton.

*

Mike lifted a crate of oranges and
started filling the basket next to the chrome juice press. If anyone ordered fresh orange juice at the Sea Stone Café, they could watch the staff squeeze it or they could suck it out of the orange themselves if they wanted it any fresher
.
Mike grinned and whistled almost inaudibly.

“Mike? Where do you want me to put these?”

Mike gasped at the sound of the unexpected male voice. With her hands in an automatic defensive pose, she jerked around so fast that Edward, one of her employees, almost lost his balance as he backpedaled, juggling a large melon under each arm.

“For crying out loud. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Edward put the melons down on a nearby barrel. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” Mike rubbed her bare arms. “Just a little jumpy.”

“A little? Any jumpier and you’d end up in orbit.”

“I’ll send
you
into orbit,” Martha said, nudging her husband out of the way. “Go out back and make yourself useful. It’s garbage day, and I’ve got four bags for you to tie up.”

“Yeah, yeah. Garbage.” Edward rolled his eyes at Mike over Martha’s head. “I’m going, I’m going.”

Martha carried one of the melons to the area between the bar and the kitchen. When she returned, she put her hand on Mike’s shoulder. “You look frozen. Why don’t you pop down to your place and get a sweater?”

“I’ll be okay. Just a tad chilly for a second.”

“You almost did your karate stuff on Eddie. Not that he wouldn’t benefit from some roughing up, but I’d kinda like for him to keep his teeth. Want to tell me what’s going on? You’ve been somewhat tense lately.”

“I…” Mike forced herself to ignore another shiver. “I can’t talk about it. Not now.”

“Oh, child, it’s okay.”

Mike saw nothing but unconditional kindness in Martha’s eyes. Tears welled up when Mike thought how blessed she was that Martha and Edward had walked through the door and into her life five years ago. They were the parents she’d wished for throughout her teens, and not having any children of their own made it even better.
Maybe
I should feel selfish for monopolizing them. But hell, I don’t. I need them. I love them.

“I understand. I do. Just so you know you can come and talk to me anytime.”

“Thanks. I will. One day.”

“Good.” Something on the TV caught Martha’s attention. “Oh, my! Look at that! It’s her!”

“Who?” Mike turned around, curious since Martha hated the “dumb-box,” as she referred to television sets.

“I adore her, Mike. Edward and I saw her in Italy when we were on that tour we won. In Milan at La Scala. He didn’t want to go, he hates opera, but as soon as she started singing…he cried like a baby.”

Vivian!
Mike felt her jaw lose cohesion. The heavy makeup didn’t hide Vivian’s features, but all the bright colors changed her appearance.

Martha reached for the remote and raised the volume. “Oh, what a beautiful speaking voice.”

“Her name’s Vivian,” Mike said, still under the spell of the woman she’d chatted with the day before.
And she’s so damned beautiful.

“That’s right. Vivian Harding.”

“I’ve heard of her. I think,” Mike said dubiously.

“If you know her name’s Vivian, how come you don’t know who she is?”

“She was here yesterday having coffee. We talked some. She was nice.” Seeing Martha stagger and grab for the counter, Mike had to smile, and she felt the shadows around her dissipate. “She promised she’d come back.”

“She did?” Martha pressed a hand to her ample chest. “I hope she does. Soon. Today. No, not today. I look like hell.”

“You look fine. But I don’t think she meant today. If she did, it’s not long till closing time.”

Martha looked reassured. “What did you two talk about?”

“Nothing special. Stuff.”

“Did she enjoy the coffee?”

“Very much.”
I think
s
he enjoyed chatting with me. If she wasn’t just slumming, for kicks. It didn’t seem that way, but…you never know.

“You make the best coffee in town. It’s sure worth coming back for. And, sweetheart,” Martha added, circling Mike’s waist with a strong arm, “so are you.”

Early-morning mist caressed the ocean. As Mike stretched her legs, she glanced at the trees farther up the shore. Soon their leaves would blaze against the azure skies. She loved fall.

Inhaling deeply, she jumped off the boardwalk and started her morning run in the cool, crisp air. As she approached the water she shortened her stride. The sand made her work hard as she deliberately stayed on the dry part of it. Eight or ten years ago she couldn’t have guessed she would enjoy such familiar routines. She’d never controlled her time or her life, so making and sticking to her own schedule now empowered her. Back then it had been a struggle to move, to force the same body to obey that now responded so willingly.

Mike could almost hear Josie Quinn advising her not to beat herself up for what she went through before she got her act together. Mike thought fondly of her, the first adult able to reach her in years. At twenty-one Mike had been broken, disillusioned, undernourished, and full of hate. Josie, then in her late forties, volunteered at the Youth Center in Providence, and Mike learned to respect and finally love her mentor in just six months. They had always stayed in touch, but now it pained and worried Mike that she couldn’t track Josie down.

Shaking off her sad thoughts, Mike inhaled deeply.
The scent of autumn, my favorite time of year.
Good for business too, but without the hassle of the summer crowd. The beach was almost empty. This was just how Mike liked it. She ran for another ten minutes before she spotted someone approaching. A breeze caught the woman’s caramel-colored coat and pushed the morning mist farther out to sea.

As she jogged closer, Mike saw the woman wasn’t alone; two huge dogs flanked her. Mike slowed so she wouldn’t startle the two Great Danes, which she realized had to be Vivian’s Perry and Mason. The breed wasn’t unusual in New England, but as far as Mike knew, no one else in this neighborhood had dogs like that. Closer, she could see Vivian’s long hair fanned out like a fair silken sail on the wind.

Mike slowed to a walk, then stopped next to her and stretched one leg at a time by tucking it up behind her. “Nice to see you again, Vivian.”

Fighting to control the excited dogs and keep her windblown hair out of her face, Vivian looked like she needed a break. “Mike, you’re up early.”

“Habit. I always jog early. I haven’t seen you on the beach before.”

“Perry and Mason insisted on exploring today. I thought we better do it before the beach crowd comes.”

“Smart move. So these are your boys. They’re cute.”

“Cute isn’t the word I’d use, but they’re being good right now. Sometimes they set each other off and can be a handful.” Vivian laughed, eyeing the dogs affectionately.

Mike couldn’t resist smiling.
Her laughter. I’ve never heard anything more beautiful.
Mike regarded the large dogs respectfully. “They’re…wonderful. May I pat them?”

“Of course. They’re friendly.”

Carefully approaching the dog she thought was Mason, Mike looked into his dark eyes as she extended a hand. To her relief he licked it immediately and then trotted over to her, pressing his body against her hip.

“Good Lord, when I said they’re friendly, I didn’t mean
this
much. Mason never takes to anybody like that.” Vivian moved closer. “He’s usually very reserved, especially with strangers. Perry is the sycophant of the two.”

“Ah, I know what it is. I smell like fresh pastry.” Mike grinned, surprised at how much this eccentric woman and her dogs charmed her. “He must think I have something yummy in my pocket.”

“That could be it.” Vivian laughed again. As she stepped forward, the other dog moved in front of her and made her stumble. Staggering toward Mike, she fumbled for support but lost her balance. “
Merde
!”

“You okay?” Mike shoved Mason out of the way and slid her arms beneath Vivian’s, stopping her from falling.

“Yes, yes. Thank you.” Vivian sounded out of breath as she leaned against Mike. “Didn’t pay attention, that’s all.”

Mike had a sudden, almost frightening urge to hold Vivian closer, to shield her.

Another nudge at Mike’s legs made her look down. “Perry seems to like me a lot too,” she said, changing the subject when Mason’s twin sniffed at her pockets. “I’ll have to bring some doggie biscuits in case we run into each other again.”

Still half leaning on Mike, Vivian paused before she answered. “I’m sure we will. I plan to make this a routine for the dogs while I can. I don’t know exactly how long I’ll be in East Quay.”

Mike hesitated but finally let go of Vivian. She didn’t want to start jogging again; instead she just stood there, enthralled by Vivian’s eyes. They reminded her of the ocean and were even bluer out in the open, without the excessive makeup Vivian had worn on TV. “I understand you’re an opera singer.”

“Yes. After I perform for the Belmont Foundation, I’m going to take a break. Believe it or not, it’ll be my first vacation in two years.” Vivian gazed at her gently. “You look like a hard worker too. Something we have in common.”

“I guess so.” Mike’s cheeks warmed under Vivian’s gaze. “Keeping the café profitable takes a lot of effort, so I have to work more or less around the clock. With a break for a short nap now and then.”

The dogs began to pull in the direction Mike had come from. “They’re impatient.” Vivian paused and pointed to a house on stilts about fifty yards from the waterline. “My manager’s house is just over there. Would you like something to drink? Juice or a cup of coffee?”

Mike started to use the café as an excuse to decline but changed her mind.
I never go anywhere, and she’ll find out in a flash that I’m not very worldly. But I think she likes to talk to me. And I could sure look at her forever.
She returned Vivian’s smile. “Thanks. Some juice would be nice.”