“Three’s a charm, Bob, if you count your own boy. Maybe this is the end,” said a man standing patiently at the end of the counter, holding a box of nails in his hand. “Maybe this is the end.”
“It’s the end all right,” said Silva. “I just don’t know what of. And I don’t like it. No, sir. It’s not good, for sure. Folks around Winslow better start locking their doors. If Cordelia West could be murdered, than none of us are safe.”
Chapter 30
P Peeped In It.The sixteenth color engraving from A Apple Pie by Kate Greenaway (1846-1901), an alphabet book printed in London by George Routledge and Sons in 1886. All the letters are illustrated by pictures of children and a pie; this “P” is a young lady, formally dressed, “peeping” into a very large pie with one slice removed while three other girls look to see if anyone else is coming. Kate Greenaway, the daughter of a master engraver and a dressmaker of clothes for children, is one of the best-known children’s illustrators of the nineteenth century. She pictured children dressed in Regency clothes (out of style during her lifetime) and although her work was popular, it was not critically acclaimed. It is still being reproduced. In 1955 the Kate Greenaway Medal was established in Great Britain. The equivalent of the Caldecott Medal in the United States, it is awarded to the British artist who has produced the most distinguished children’s book illustrations each year. 8.5 x 10.4 inches. $75.
Working together, Will and Maggie had no problem covering the windows at Aunt Augusta’s Attic with the plywood. “The shop may look dreary now, but at least it’s safe, no matter how high the winds are,” said Maggie.
“Thank goodness you’re both here to help,” agreed Gussie. “Shuttering the store was certainly not what I had in mind when I asked you to come to the Cape early, Maggie. But the woman who owns the children’s clothing shop next door has someone coming this afternoon to board up her windows, too.”
“The Cape’s going to be on lockdown by tomorrow afternoon,” said Will. “Sounds a bit paranoid if you ask me. Has the governor called out the National Guard yet?”
“Actually, he has,” Gussie said. “Or at least put them on stand-by. He’s not taking this storm lightly.”
“I guess after Katrina no one laughs at hurricanes,” added Maggie.
“But this is the Cape. And it’s almost November!” said Gussie. “Can you guess who’s most upset?”
Maggie didn’t have to think long. “Jim’s mother. Lily had reservations to fly in tonight, didn’t she?”
“She did, but her flight was cancelled. She’s been trying to get an earlier flight, but airports all up and down the coast are a mess. Jim’s been in touch with her, on top of everything else he’s dealing with.”
“If the Cape’s closed off, that means some of the guests who were going to drive or fly in won’t be able to make it,” Maggie said.
Gussie nodded. “While you were outside putting the plywood up I had calls from three people off-Cape in other parts of Massachusetts, and one person in Connecticut. Everyone’s worried. But there’s not much anyone can do right now.”
“The storm’s due Friday night, right?” said Will. “Assuming roads are passable, people driving should be able to get here Saturday afternoon. Flying will be the problem. Airports down south have been closing all week. A lot of flights have been delayed or cancelled, and there won’t be any flights into Boston Friday afternoon or night for sure. Schedules are going to be crazy.”
“If I were planning to fly here from Atlanta on Friday I’d be tempted to cancel now,” said Maggie. “I’ll bet rental cars will all be spoken for, too. Not to speak of hotel rooms.”
“At least anyone who can get to Winslow has rooms booked already,” said Gussie. “We can’t do anything about the storm except prepare for it and ride it out. And be glad it’ll be over by Saturday.” She paused. “I keep thinking of poor Cordelia. And Diana. Compared to murder, a storm and a few people missing a wedding, even if it is my wedding, are minor problems. Although I do hope Jim’s mother gets here. Despite all my complaints about her, she should be here.”
“Gussie, you’re a real trooper. I keep wondering what Jim and Diana are talking about, too,” said Maggie. “But right now we should get to your house and cover the windows there.”
The sun was shining and Hurricane Tasha seemed a far distant event as Will and Maggie managed to stabilize the sheets of plywood over the large picture windows. “This is a lot harder than the shop windows,” Maggie said as, her arms aching, she tried to hold the bottom of a board up as Will stood on a ladder and nailed the top of it above the windows.
“Sure is,” he admitted. “Remind me never to admire homes set this close to the ocean.”
“And this is just the Bay,” Maggie added, under her breath. “Think of what’s going on with buildings on the southern side of the Cape.”
“And in places in Maine like Old Orchard Beach, where storm surges usually go ashore,” Will added, hitting another nail forcibly into the plywood. “Let’s hope all this preparation isn’t necessary. I noticed a lot of trees on the way here with branches all too close to electric wires.”
Power outages. Flooding. Maggie suddenly thought of her home in New Jersey.
She lived closer to Pennsylvania than she did to the Atlantic Ocean, but if there were a bad storm, strong winds could take down trees. She hoped none of the tall maples or oaks in her yard would go down on her house. She went through a mental checklist. She hadn’t left anything outside that could be blown around dangerously. Her neighbors Jerome and Ian were looking after her cat, and they had her phone number. They’d call if there were any problems.
Maggie was about ready to call a time-out when Jim appeared around the corner of the house.
“You guys are the best! Time for a break, though. I’ve brought reinforcements.”
“Can’t say I mind that,” Will said, slamming in one more nail, and climbing down the ladder, leaving the piece of plywood they were working on swaying precariously.
Two other men joined Jim. “This is Andy, my legal partner and best man, and his brother, Mel. Meet Will Brewer from Maine, and Maggie Summer, maid of honor. And today, my two other right hands.”
“Nice to meet you,” said Will, shaking hands.
“We did a little boarding up at the office. Then Andy and Mel allowed me to volunteer them to help finish up here.”
“You bribed us,” said Andy. “Don’t forget, Jim. You owe us!”
“I do, indeed. Beer for all, once we’re finished here.”
“Where’s Diana?” Maggie asked. “And have you heard from your mother?”
“Diana’s with Gussie, in the house,” said Jim, “and Mother’s airborne, on her way to Providence. She found a series of connections that will get her in after midnight tonight, and by some miracle, got a hotel room there. Why don’t you and Will go ahead inside? Gussie’ll fill you in on the details. C’mon, guys. These two already have the job half-done. Maybe I only owe you half as much beer. Especially if it takes us twice as long to get the job done.”
Maggie and Will stretched and walked around the house, glad to be excused the rest of the task. The house was built higher than the dunes, and although the windows were on the first floor, covering them was not an easy job.
Gussie was making tea and Diana was pacing, looking out at the men setting the ladders up, when they got inside.
“Tea, Will? Cola?” Gussie asked.
“Do you have any brandy? Hot tea with brandy would go down really well right now,” he said, rubbing his hands together to warm them.