“Ivy was great,” Kate said. “She’s going to sit in the little room during the memorial and get the messages. She’ll open them, read them, then text us if we should know something. We set up a group text so we all get every message.” She glared at Jack. “Will you please stop grinning?”
“Just glad to see that you two hit it off. Did anybody bring any dessert?”
“A chocolate cake,” Kate said, then she and Sara looked at each other and groaned.
With a great show of effort, Jack hobbled into the kitchen and cut himself what had to be a quarter of the cake: seven-layer chocolate with chocolate frosting.
He took it back to the family room and the women watched with longing as he ate it. “So what’s for tomorrow?” He was licking the fork. “Who made this? It’s really good.”
“Janet,” Kate said. “I think. Can you get the box done by Tuesday?”
“I used some moldings I had in the shop, so it can be installed tomorrow. This cake really is good. Wonder if I can get the recipe.”
Kate couldn’t take any more of watching the forbidden chocolate being devoured.
She stood up. “I’m going to bed.”
“Don’t forget what tomorrow is,” Jack said.
“The day you go into a sugar coma and don’t wake up for thirteen and a half years?” Kate smiled sweetly.
“It’s your date with the Viking god.”
“Oh, yeah. I would never forget that.”
“Been thinking about it all day, have you?”
“Every minute.” She had her hand on her bedroom door.
“Sure you don’t want some cake? It’s awfully good.”
“I’d rather go to bed and dream about tall blond men.” As she closed the door, she heard Sara laugh.
* * *
On Saturday, people seemed to think that the planning was to be continued at Sara’s house. But she’d had enough. Every time the doorbell rang, she answered it. She told the person standing there, laptop in hand, that the house had been quarantined with cholera. Or typhoid. Or smallpox. When she got to leprosy, Kate told Jack to stop laughing and do something. He called the security guards back in and they finally had peace. Only Ivy and Heather joined them.
With the help of his sister, Jack prepared to cut a hole in the wall of the little study off Sara’s bedroom.
Kate hadn’t seen the room and she marveled at it. With the two-story ceiling, it was like a tower and it had bookcases all around and all the way up. A ladder rolled about on a brass railing.
“It’s Beauty’s library,” Kate whispered. “I love it.” There was a deep window seat with a dozen big, soft pillows.
“Thank you,” Jack said.
“And I thank you, too,” Ivy added. “He built it—I decorated it.”
Kate turned to Jack. “You are not to make a hole in those bookcases! You do that and the floor will open up and the devil will grab you by the ankle.”
When he laughed, Ivy looked from one to the other, wide-eyed. “It’ll be all right. You’ll see. Our dad taught him well.”
Kate wasn’t convinced, but when Jack finished, she was in awe. In the hallway it looked like an old shrine had been inserted into the wall. Jack hadn’t mentioned that the moldings he was using were antique. There was no evidence that there was a camera hidden at the top.
Inside the little library, there seemed to be no change. When Jack pushed a book, a door—camouflaged by more books—swung open to reveal the back of the newly installed niche.
“Do I hear an apology?” His hand was behind his ear.
“Not from me.” Kate walked away. “I expected perfection.”