“It’s good, Maggie. It’s good not to get so set in your ways that you can’t allow your world to be shaken up a little,” said Gussie. “Jim had to push me, I’ll admit. But he was right. The new house is going to be wonderful, and the new shop is better than I dreamed. I needed that push.”
“You’re making a lot of decisions, fast.”
“Maybe. But it all makes sense. Jim was the right guy, and it was time to move on. And I finally admitted it to myself,” agreed Gussie. “He doesn’t seem to mind that I come equipped with wheels and can’t do everything I’d love to do. It bothers me a lot more than it seems to bother him. It took me a long time to believe that, but now I do.”
“I’m so happy for you!” said Maggie. “I am.” She stood up. “In fact, I think it’s time to open the first bottle of that champagne I brought for us. Then we can talk about whatever wedding issues are pending. Besides that hideous dress you showed me, which I’m very glad to hear will be heading south tomorrow.” She went toward the kitchen, hoping for a minute to take a deep breath. She was happy for Gussie. She was. Gussie was her best friend, and now she had everything she wanted. It all sounded so easy. Why wasn’t life as easy for her?
“Maybe all this talk about weddings will give you and Will some ideas,” Gussie called out to her.
Maggie yanked the cork out of the champagne bottle and bubbly wine ran down the sides.
“Will and I are fine,” said Maggie, returning with the bottle and two glasses. “He’s moved himself and his business from Buffalo to Maine so he can keep an eye on his Aunt Nettie, who’s in her nineties. He has his hands full, and I have my teaching.”
“There are schools in Maine. You’re not wedded to New Jersey, Maggie, any more than I was wedded to this building.”
Maggie handed Gussie a glass and then raised her own. “To us. And to decisions. The ones we’ve made, and the ones we’re making now. May they enrich our lives!”
They touched glasses, and each took a generous sip.
Gussie looked at Maggie quizzically. “All right, old friend. We’re here tonight because of my wedding. But I’ve known you long enough to know we just drank to something else, too. What’s happening? What decision?”
“You mustn’t tell Will. It’s between you and me for now.”
Gussie put her glass down. “Oh, Maggie! You’ve met someone else? Tell me. I promise. I won’t say anything.”
“No! Nothing like that. Or,” Maggie hesitated, “not exactly like that. I’ve finally decided to go ahead and adopt a child. Or children. As a single parent. I filled out my application last week. My home study should be finished by Christmas.”
“Oh, Maggie!” Gussie put down her glass and looked at Maggie. “What should I say?”
“Say you’re happy for me! You know I’ve wanted to be a mother for years. I’ve finally gotten up the courage to do something about it. I’ve applied to Our World, Our Children, the agency that benefitted from the antiques show we did last May. I’ve told them I’d like to adopt a girl between the ages of five and nine, but two sisters would be fine, too.”
Gussie hesitated. “Are you sure, Maggie? That’s a big step. Especially when you know Will doesn’t want to be a father.”
“I’m sure,” said Maggie, holding tightly to her glass and taking another, deeper sip of champagne. “I’m getting older. I need to make this decision now. Will moved to Maine to take care of his aunt. That’s important to him, and I love Aunt Nettie, too. But being a mother is important to me. I don’t want to wake up and realize I’ve given up something I really wanted to do because someone else didn’t want to do it. This decision is mine. Will’s decisions, whatever they are, are his.”
“I have to ask. Is there any chance he’ll change his mind about parenthood?”
“I hope so. He’s told me he likes children. Oh, hell, Gussie, he used to be a high school teacher! But his wife had an ectopic pregnancy and bled to death, and he got it in his mind that he didn’t want children. He stopped teaching after she died, and decided he didn’t wanted the responsibility of being a father. He’s been clear on that point. Believe me. But I keep hoping.”
“When will you tell him what you’ve done?”
“I don’t know. I don’t even know if my home study will be approved.”
“You’ve been involved with that agency for almost a year. They know you. The chances are very good you’ll be approved, aren’t they?”
“Yes,” Maggie said quietly. “I think I’ll be approved.”
“Then you have to tell him, Maggie. He’s a big part of your life. You have to tell him now. You can’t wait until you have a referral for a child. You have to give him another chance to think about what you’re doing.”
“I will, Gussie. I promise. But not right now. This week is all about your wedding!”
That’s when Gussie’s phone rang.
Chapter 5
The Georgia Delegation in Congress.Winslow Homer wood engraving published on cover of Harper’s Weekly (The Journal of Civilization) Saturday, January 5, 1861. A montage of the faces of the Georgia delegation, by Winslow Homer, based on photographs taken by famous Civil War photographer Mathew Brady at his studio in Washington, D.C. The Georgia delegation pictured had already seceded from the Union when this newspaper was printed. 11 x 16 inches. Edges slightly uneven; otherwise, excellent condition. Price: $225.
Gussie put down her champagne, picked up her cell phone, and looked at the caller ID. “It’s Ike Irons.” She looked at Maggie. “Guess I’d better pick it up. Yes, Ike? Yes, she’s here. Just a minute.” She put her hand over the phone. “It’s for you.”
Maggie raised her eyebrows, but took the phone. “Hello? This is Maggie Summer. Yes, this afternoon, on the beach.” There was a pause. “I see. No. I told you; I didn’t touch the body. I’d be happy to come down to the station.” She looked over at Gussie. “Gussie will tell me where it is.” Gussie nodded. “I see. No. I’ll be in town until after the wedding. Thank you.” Maggie handed the phone back.
“What was that all about? I mean, I know it was about Dan Jeffrey’s body, that was clear from this end of the conversation. Did Ike forget to have you sign some paper or other?” Gussie picked up her glass again.
“No; it was more than that,” Maggie said slowly. “He just heard from the medical examiner. Dan Jeffrey didn’t drown. He was shot.”
“No,” said Gussie. “That means…”
“He was murdered. Shot in the head, before he went into the water. So now they need a more detailed statement than they did when I’d just found the body of a man who’d drowned. It seems I found a murder victim.”
“Now we have to go to see Cordelia in the morning,” said Gussie. “I guess after you make your statement. The poor woman.”
“You said she didn’t have many friends here?”
“Not that I know of. I see her at the post office, and the library. I’ve seen her more often in the past few months because she lives down the beach from our new house, but off another road. I smile and nod, and she does the same. Once last August she brought over a tray of muffins while Jim and I were talking with the contractor.”
“What about the man who was killed?”
“Jim knew him a little. He’d lived with Cordelia a couple of years, I think. He may have been her cousin, but he wasn’t at all like her. He was much rougher around the edges. You remember Jim said he drank; he’d seen him at the Lazy Lobster a few times.”
“The Lazy Lobster?”
“It’s a sports bar popular with local fishermen. Where you can hoist a draft and fill up on thick chowder or a burger while you’re watching the Pats or Sox and not worry anyone’s going to complain you smell of fish. Not the kind of place where a lot of people order champagne.” Gussie lifted her glass in Maggie’s direction.