Deadly Ever After by Eva Gates (distant reading .txt) 📗

“It doesn’t hurt that he’s a doctor,” Dad said.

“And so dreadfully handsome,” Mom added.

“Connor’s a dentist,” I said. “These days he’s only a part-time dentist, while he’s serving as mayor.”

“He’s still Dr. McNeil,” Mom said. The sparkle in her eyes told me she was teasing. “You would not have been happy with Ricky, and I can see that now.”

I decided not to tell my parents about the apparent bribe of a job at the Rockenheimer Library. My mom might say she’s come around to accepting my new life in the Outer Banks and my relationship with Connor, but she’s a social climber to the core. Having me in that prestigious position would be a notch in her belt.

“Why are we talking about Lucy marrying Ricky anyway?” Dad said.

Mom didn’t bother to answer him. She often didn’t. “As for why she’s here, you’re right, I fear. Evangeline has not come around to my way of thinking. She wants to see you and Ricky married.”

“Lucy is getting married,” Dad said. “Isn’t that why we’re here? To celebrate that?”

“Do try to keep up, dear,” Mom said. “Evangeline wants Lucy and Ricky married to each other.”

“Oh.” Dad checked his watch. “What time are we leaving for dinner?”

“Why does it matter to her?” I asked.

“Because you’re a sensible young woman from a good family with a proper ladylike profession,” Mom said.

“Ladylike?”

“In her eyes, yes. You are, Lucy, in a word, respectable. Ricky has been, shall we say, up to some shenanigans with unsuitable—in Evangeline’s eyes—women over the past year.”

“More than a year. Mom, I guessed at the time he was fooling around on me.”

“What your mother’s trying to say,” Dad said, “is that the Lewiston family is facing financial ruin. Rich has made some bad—very bad—investments, and his gambling habit isn’t helping. We all know Evangeline’s trying to exert some control over their finances, but it is Rich’s family money he’s squandering, plus his income from the firm, and she doesn’t have the control she’d like. Evangeline needs an influx of cash to turn things around. And fast.”

“But I don’t have any money,” I said. “Other than what I earn at the library.”

“Evangeline doesn’t know that,” Mom said. “Your father and I don’t discuss our private financial arrangements with anyone. Even Rich and Evangeline. Particularly Rich and Evangeline. You’ll get your inheritance when your father and I are gone and not a minute before.”

I’ve always known that. My parents ensured that I received an excellent education, finished college with no student loans hanging over my head, and had a good start in my career. They helped with my rent for the first year after I graduated from college, and since then I’ve managed for myself. I have three older brothers and they all have wives and children, so I’m not expecting to inherit a lot when my parents are gone.

Which, I hoped, would be many years from now.

“What are you smiling at?” Mom asked.

“Nothing. This dinner’s going to be mighty awkward. If Evangeline says anything, I’ll have to come flat out and tell her I’m not marrying her son.”

“I feel a headache coming on,” Dad said.

“No, you do not,” Mom said. “It’s time we were going.”

Dinner began as a dreary affair. I don’t mean the food. The food is never dreary at Jake’s Seafood Bar. Nor is the atmosphere. It was a beautiful, clear warm night, and our group occupied a big table on the deck overlooking Roanoke Sound and the lights of the island beyond. In the distance, the fourth-order Fresnel lens of the reproduction Roanoke Marshes Lighthouse flashed its regular pattern and boats bobbed gently on the waves. I find the lights of a lighthouse, any lighthouse, comforting in their reliability and regularity. And tonight, even though I was sitting next to Connor with my hand held tightly in his under the table, I needed that comfort.

Aunt Ellen, Uncle Amos, Josie, my parents, and Connor and I had joined Ricky and his mother for dinner. Jake was in the kitchen, cooking up marvelous things.

I was confident in my love for Connor and confident in the strength of his love for me. But … Evangeline Lewiston was a force to be reckoned with, and always had been. My mom was a southern upstart, and Evangeline never let her forget it. Whereas Evangeline’s family had—according to her—come over on the Mayflower and immediately set about rising to their proper place at the pinnacle of society.

I reminded myself that Evangeline was facing financial ruin, and in the circles in which she moved, financial ruin meant social ruin.

Although you wouldn’t know it by looking at her. Small diamonds glistened in her ears, and a larger one hung from a gold chain around her neck. She wore a slim-fitting black knit dress under a gold lamé jacket with elbow-length sleeves that sparkled in the lights of the bar, and gold sandals, again with the dangerously high heels. A small clutch purse, also golden, rested on the table beside her. This morning her nail polish had been a deep red; this evening it was a light pink. She’d been to the spa.

Ricky, on the other hand, had spent the day at the beach or lounging around the hotel pool. His nose was badly sunburned and his cheeks were pink, a sharp contract to the white skin where his sunglasses had been placed. He turned quickly and caught me looking at him. He winked, and I felt myself color as I dipped my head to read the menu.

Not that I need to read the menu at Jakes. I know it, and love it, by heart.

Drink orders were taken. Evangeline asked for a martini and Ricky for a double Scotch. Connor and Amos had beer, and Mom, Josie, and I ordered a glass of wine each. My dad asked for a club soda with a slice of lime. I glanced at my mom, and she avoided my eyes.

“Is this your first visit to Nags Head,