Page 68 of The Magic We Made
“No, I thought I’d donated it to Goodwill. Feel free to give it back to me so I can put it at the bottom of that laundry basket for the cats to shit on.”
“And deprive you of such sartorial elegance? Never. Do you want your eggs now, or after you go for your swim?”
She dashes past me on the way to the linen closet. “I don’t work out on Sundays.”
“Oh, right. Too busy going to mass?”
“Very funny. Sunday is a day of rest.”
“Really?” Cheered by this piece of news since it means more time together—though disappointed that the red bathing suit isn’t going to make an appearance—I grab eggs from the refrigerator. “I was going to go to the farmers market this afternoon—”
“Do you have a death wish?”
Startled, I say, “No. Why?”
“Have you ever been to a farmers market in a small New England town on a Sunday? Especially in the fall?”
“Yeah...”
“And you enjoyed the crowds, the lack of parking, the complete idiots standing around taking selfies with bottles of maple syrup and handmade soap, but not buying anything?”
“Wow.” I raise my eyebrows. “You’re grumpy in the morning. Who knew?”
“I’m not grumpy,” Frankie protests. “I’m just stating facts. I’ve lived here my whole life and I want to assure you that the West Harbor farmers market on a weekend is not where any sane person would want to be.”
“Who said I was sane?” I wiggle my eyebrows at her. “I’m looking for someone, remember? And everyone knows that the local farmers market is a hotbed for gossip. I was going to ask around to see if anyone there has any news about Emma Bridle. Meg reappearing like she did has sparked a lot of new interest in the case.”
Had it ever.FOUND!screamed the headline of theNew York Post.AT LAST!shrieked the cover ofPEOPLEmagazine.
Fortunately none of the articles mention me or Frankie by name—only that a “concerned resident” of West Harbor found Meg near the nature preserve and then contacted authorities. Not a single one of the stories contains any new information whatsoever that might be of help tracing the whereabouts of the other missing girls.
“Unless you’ve talked to your friend Jackie again?” I ask hopefully. “Has she told you that Meg’s said anything useful? Does she want to let me try talking to her? You may not believe this, but I’m pretty good with people....”
“I’ve noticed.” Frankie attempts to dart past me on her wayback to the bedroom, her arms filled with beach towels. “But I haven’t had a chance to speak to Jackie this morning. I’ve been a little busy.”
“You sure have been.” I catch her as she breezes past and lay a kiss on that busy little head. “Well, in that case, while I’m at the market, I thought I might pick up some farm-raised rib eyes to throw on the grill later. Do you think you’d be interested in joining me?”
“For what?” Frankie calls. She managed to wiggle away with the towels and is now in the bedroom.
I’m a patient man. With my family, I have to be. So I reply, with what I think is admirable calm, “Going to the farmers market this afternoon, then making dinner at my place.”
“Oh, I can’t.”
But before I can ask the disembodied voice coming from the bedroom what she’s doing instead that’s so important—even though I already know, I just want to see if she’s going to invite me along—there’s a knock on the door.
“Don’t answer that!” Frankie comes running back into the room, her eyes huge. “It’s probably my brother.”
“It isn’t.” I’m already striding to the front door. “It’s for me.”
“You?” Frankie hurries along behind me, wide-eyed. “Who—oh, God, you’re not going to answer it wearingthat,are you?”
“Don’t get upsetti,” I advise her as I unlock the door. Eddie, Robby, and Sammy DeLong are standing on Frankie’s front porch, looking anxious. “Greetings, young sirs. To what do I owe this social call so early on a Sunday morn?”
Eddie DeLong stares up at me curiously. “Wha-aat?”
“What are you doing here, kid?” I notice all three boys eyeing my apron. I think they’ve noticed what I’m wearing beneath it, which, I’m belatedly realizing, is only underwear.
“Um.” Eddie drags his gaze from the apron to my face. “You told us to tell you if we saw the boat again.”
