Making Spirits Bright by Michaels Fern & Noonan Rosalind & Bass Elizabeth

Author:Michaels, Fern & Noonan, Rosalind & Bass, Elizabeth [Bass, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp
Published: 2011-10-25T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Erica nibbled on a lemon bar and looked over the wreck that was the café. She had carried the dishes to the sink, but the tabletops were still littered with crumbs, old napkins, a stray glove, and other debris. She’d found a cell phone on a chair, a Hefty bag containing a Temper-pedic pillow, and someone’s gas bill, stamped and ready to mail, on the floor and covered with boot prints. Chairs faced every which way, some draped with the blankets Patrick and Marcus had brought.

The place needed tidying and sweeping, but she had promised not to wake Heidi, who was curled up on the floor next to the fireplace, sleeping soundly for probably the first time in two days. Marcello, on the other hand, quivered from restlessness even though Erica had taken him out.

It hadn’t been much of a walk, though—just up and down the sidewalk in front of the café. Erica hadn’t wanted to let the café door out of her sight, since she and Heidi were the only ones there and she didn’t have a key to lock it. Outside, the ice was melting, so that not only was there the constant drip of water coming off the trees, but occasionally there were chunks of ice dropping to the sidewalk or avalanching down from the eaves. At the corner of the block, when she looked down a larger street and spied skyscrapers in the distance, she’d become antsy to explore the city.

Maybe this feeling was where the expression “cabin fever” came from. If she had lived in pioneer days, they would have had to put her on Ritalin or something.

Eating sugary stuff probably wasn’t calming her impatience any. When she thought she saw Laura and Webb standing outside the café, peering around the street and then into the glass part of the door, she began to regret that last lemon bar she’d inhaled. Great—sugar hallucinations. Her brain was really bugging out.

Then, in a surreal moment, her hallucination rattled the door, opened it with a very real jangle of the bell, and in walked Webb followed by Laura, big as life.

At first, astonishment rooted Erica in place, but in the next moment, a rush of joy propelled her across the room. She threw herself into her aunt’s arms. “Laura!”

Laura wrapped her long arms around her in a tight hug. “Youngster!”

Marcello skittered over to the newcomers, letting out muttered ruffs as he sniffed Laura and Webb’s shoes.

Tears streaked down Erica’s cheeks. She hadn’t realized how much she missed Laura until the moment she buried her face in the old barn jacket her aunt was wearing, which smelled of old leaves, soil, and maybe a little of Milkshake. Home.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, snuffling.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Laura said. “If anyone should apologize, it’s me. I’ve been a jackass as usual.”

“No you weren’t. You just weren’t feeling good.”

“You must have thought I didn’t want you around,” Laura continued, “or that you weren’t needed now that Hortense is on the way.

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