shiny. Upon closer examination, I noticed the leather was patterned with tiny swirls and looked costly. I knelt down and attempted to push open the lid, but it was locked.
“Maria? Would you come here, please?”
There was a moment of hesitation before she reluctantly obeyed. “Yes, Mrs. Adams?”
“This is locked. Do you have a key?”
“Mr. Adams has the only key.”
Again I detected something contrived in her tone. “How do you know so much about this trunk, anyway?”
She shrugged. An odd smile played about her lips. “I pay attention to things.”
What the hell did that mean? I wasn’t in the mood to play games in order to find out. “I see. Very well, then,” I said, standing up. “I guess I’ll have to use other linens.”
We walked downstairs in silence. Juana looked to Maria in askance as we reentered the kitchen.
“It’ s locked,” I said. I didn’t want to make an issue of it, at least not today.
“ I’m sorry, I should have told you that,” Juana said apologetically. “Mr. Adams has the only key.”
“No problem,” I said brightly. “We’ll just use the linens stored in the pantry. I don’t want to bother Mr. Adams about an old trunk, anyway.”
Juana and Maria began busily spooning stuffing and cooked vegetables into serving bowls. Neither one of them said another word, but I could feel the tension in the air. My mind raced as I tried to come up with reasons why Juana was so upset. What could possibly be inside of that trunk? Had she been admonished by Michael not to speak of its existence?
I was in the process of placing the last piece of silverware on the table when Michael came into the room. “How was your walk?” I asked.
“Great. It’s a perfect day outside.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Famished,” he replied, placing his arm around my shoulders.
“Wel l, you’ll be happy to know I had Juana prepare your favorite dessert in addition to the traditional pumpkin pie,” I said, turning to look up at him.
“Homemade custard pudding?” he asked eagerly.
“Yes.”
“You’re the best, p rincess.”
“Tell Juana that- she made it, not me.”
“I’ll be sure to thank her.” Michael looked down at the table and frowned. “You have an extra setting.”
“No, I don’t,” I contradicted gently.
He recounted the plates and named the guests before saying, “Yes, you do.”
I shook my head. Michael suddenly realized that I’d invited someone without his knowledge, and he had a pretty good idea who the mystery guest was, too.
“Zoë, tell me you didn’t invite him,” Michael said.
“I did,” I confessed.
He sighed in annoyance.
“ Michael, he is your brother. Thanksgiving is the time for families to get together…isn’t it time you two patched things up?”
He said nothing.
“This isn’t like you,” I said. “The Michael I know loved his younger brother to death. There is nothing that can’t be fixed.”
“I do love Lance, but-”
“No buts. Family is important. I can’t even begin to tell you how difficult today is for me without my dad here.”
He sighed again . “You’re right, princess.”
“Thank you, Michael.”
“I’m going upstairs to wash up and change,” he said.
I nodded and he left the room. I looked down at the perfectly set table. The white porcelain china and silver utensils gleamed, and the crystal wine and water goblets sparkled. In the center of the table was an autumnal floral arrangement surrounded by small sugar pumpkins and several glass votive holders with little candles inside. It was warm, cozy and casually elegant.
I went upstairs to change into a short, clingy emerald knit dress. Black tights and black suede boots completed the outfit. I brushed my hair and let it fall loose down my back. A quick application of mascara, concealer and lip gloss along with a spritz of perfume and I was done. The doorbell rang as I
“Maria? Would you come here, please?”
There was a moment of hesitation before she reluctantly obeyed. “Yes, Mrs. Adams?”
“This is locked. Do you have a key?”
“Mr. Adams has the only key.”
Again I detected something contrived in her tone. “How do you know so much about this trunk, anyway?”
She shrugged. An odd smile played about her lips. “I pay attention to things.”
What the hell did that mean? I wasn’t in the mood to play games in order to find out. “I see. Very well, then,” I said, standing up. “I guess I’ll have to use other linens.”
We walked downstairs in silence. Juana looked to Maria in askance as we reentered the kitchen.
“It’ s locked,” I said. I didn’t want to make an issue of it, at least not today.
“ I’m sorry, I should have told you that,” Juana said apologetically. “Mr. Adams has the only key.”
“No problem,” I said brightly. “We’ll just use the linens stored in the pantry. I don’t want to bother Mr. Adams about an old trunk, anyway.”
Juana and Maria began busily spooning stuffing and cooked vegetables into serving bowls. Neither one of them said another word, but I could feel the tension in the air. My mind raced as I tried to come up with reasons why Juana was so upset. What could possibly be inside of that trunk? Had she been admonished by Michael not to speak of its existence?
I was in the process of placing the last piece of silverware on the table when Michael came into the room. “How was your walk?” I asked.
“Great. It’s a perfect day outside.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Famished,” he replied, placing his arm around my shoulders.
“Wel l, you’ll be happy to know I had Juana prepare your favorite dessert in addition to the traditional pumpkin pie,” I said, turning to look up at him.
“Homemade custard pudding?” he asked eagerly.
“Yes.”
“You’re the best, p rincess.”
“Tell Juana that- she made it, not me.”
“I’ll be sure to thank her.” Michael looked down at the table and frowned. “You have an extra setting.”
“No, I don’t,” I contradicted gently.
He recounted the plates and named the guests before saying, “Yes, you do.”
I shook my head. Michael suddenly realized that I’d invited someone without his knowledge, and he had a pretty good idea who the mystery guest was, too.
“Zoë, tell me you didn’t invite him,” Michael said.
“I did,” I confessed.
He sighed in annoyance.
“ Michael, he is your brother. Thanksgiving is the time for families to get together…isn’t it time you two patched things up?”
He said nothing.
“This isn’t like you,” I said. “The Michael I know loved his younger brother to death. There is nothing that can’t be fixed.”
“I do love Lance, but-”
“No buts. Family is important. I can’t even begin to tell you how difficult today is for me without my dad here.”
He sighed again . “You’re right, princess.”
“Thank you, Michael.”
“I’m going upstairs to wash up and change,” he said.
I nodded and he left the room. I looked down at the perfectly set table. The white porcelain china and silver utensils gleamed, and the crystal wine and water goblets sparkled. In the center of the table was an autumnal floral arrangement surrounded by small sugar pumpkins and several glass votive holders with little candles inside. It was warm, cozy and casually elegant.
I went upstairs to change into a short, clingy emerald knit dress. Black tights and black suede boots completed the outfit. I brushed my hair and let it fall loose down my back. A quick application of mascara, concealer and lip gloss along with a spritz of perfume and I was done. The doorbell rang as I
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