Page 43 of Remain (one-of-a-kind)

Friday dawned bright and clear. Taking advantage of the beautiful weather, I went for a run, had a light breakfast, and feeling virtuous, started a load of laundry. I tried to do a little work on the schematics while sitting on the porch, but I couldn’t concentrate and put my computer aside.

Getting up, I decided to walk the property, hoping that my absence from the house might entice Wren to return.

I took a seat on the bench on the edge of the bluff.

Wren was right, I thought with a smile. Its location really was a bit diabolical.

There was nothing to see but water and sky, and it was easy to imagine Wren’s misery at being confined to this desolate spot for hours on end.

On the way back, I spotted Louise and Reece heading to their truck, but they didn’t see me.

They were dressed up; Louise was in a pleated dress with a lace collar, while Reece sported a dated blazer and white shirt.

Their impending absence triggered an idea that I hoped might lure Wren back from wherever she was.

As their truck disappeared down the drive, I returned to the small shed where I’d found her things.

Pulling down the box I needed, I found the recipe box and brought it back to the house. I thumbed through the cards, hoping to find something appealing that wasn’t beyond my capabilities.

I finally selected a recipe for coq au vin—Google informed me that the literal translation was “rooster in wine.” I drove into town to buy the ingredients, doing my best to dodge the crowds.

By the time I got back, it was early afternoon, and recalling what Wren had taught me, I measured out ingredients into ramekins and bowls, chopped the vegetables and herbs, and laid out all my implements and cookware.

Then I began crisping the bacon and browning the chicken.

The only tricky part was igniting the cognac, but I felt like a culinary hero when it all worked out and my eyebrows remained intact.

Before putting on the lid, I added the remaining ingredients, except the mushrooms, which, according to her recipe, I was supposed to add later.

As Wren had also taught me, I put the ingredients away, cleaned the counters, and washed what I’d used. I had just begun to dry my hands when I heard her.

“Are you making coq au vin?”

Her voice was coming from the parlor, and I exhaled, releasing tension that I didn’t know I’d been holding. Suddenly nervous, I refolded the dish towel and ran a quick hand through my hair before she appeared in the kitchen doorway.

She was dressed for a night on the town: faded jeans, a green, sleeveless, V-necked top, glittery sandals, red fingernail polish, her hair pinned up, and small gold hoop earrings that matched a distressed-looking heart-shaped locket around her neck.

A touch of lip gloss brought out the fullness of her mouth, and dark mascara accentuated the unusual shape and color of her eyes.

She was extraordinarily beautiful, and I had to clear my throat before I was able to speak.

“I am. And you look dressed to kill,” I told her and whistled.

“Oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I’m serious,” I said. “I love the locket, too. Is it an antique?”

She absently reached for it. “It was my grandma’s. When I wear it, I always think of her, and I feel like I’m going to need a bit of her strength today.”

“Big plans?”

She shrugged without answering before breathing in deeply. “Nothing smells better than coq au vin. I used to make it a lot. It was one of the meals my grandma actually enjoyed.”

I smiled, pleased that she was exhibiting none of the confusion of the previous day. “It was a meal I thought I could pull off without your help,” I told her.

“Is it my recipe? From the box in the cupboard? Or did you find it online?”

“Yours,” I answered, pointing to the recipe box. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” she said. “It’s in the cupboard for the same reason the books are in the parlor. But I’m pretty sure you’re the first guest to take advantage of my stash of favorites.”

“The beef bourguignon was so delicious, I couldn’t resist.”

“Did you remember to add the bay leaf?”

“I did,” I said. “Chopped it up until it looked like oregano.” When her eyes widened, I laughed. “I’m kidding. I also made sure to get the stock from Let’s Meat.”

“Good for you,” she said. “But I’m kind of surprised to find you here. I figured you’d be working today.”

“Oscar has other things to do,” I said, “so the day’s all mine. How about you? I’m guessing that you’ll be heading into town?”

“Later,” she said. “I’m going to the festival tonight.”

“Are you meeting anyone there?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

“Why?” She lifted an eyebrow. “Do you want to come?”

If you could leave the house, then I’d love to…

“It’s not really my thing,” I demurred.

She laughed. “I’m going by myself, but I won’t be staying long. A band I like is playing at seven-thirty. I should be home early.”

“Monkey Tears?”

She did a double take. “Oh, that’s right,” she said, her face clearing. “You saw me wearing their jacket. They’re great, and I still can’t figure out how Griffin managed to get them to come.”

I hooked a thumb toward the pot on the stove. “This still has to cook a little while. Do you want to sit in the parlor? Until you have to leave?”

“Sure,” she said. “And while I’ll admit that I’m impressed you’re trying your hand in the kitchen again, I’m afraid you’ve already forgotten the most important step.”

“A glass of wine?”

“Get yourself some and I’ll meet you on the sofa.”

By the time I entered the parlor, wine in hand, Wren was sitting with her own glass of wine. She tucked a leg up and turned as I sat down beside her.

“I love that you’re learning how to prepare your own meals,” she said.

“I also started a load of laundry this morning.”

“It sounds like you’re finally growing up.”

“That’s what Oscar said.”

She smiled before growing serious. “I feel a little better today. Less off than I’ve been lately.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” I said, resisting the impulse to move a strand of hair that had fallen out of her loose chignon.

“I’m sorry that I’ve been preoccupied with all the stuff I told you about. It’s been hard to relax, but talking to you has helped a lot.”

“Happy to help,” I said. “And don’t worry about it. Are you looking forward to tonight?”

“I think it’ll be good for me to get out. And then, as soon as I get back, I’m going to pour myself another glass of wine, take a nice, warm bath, and get a good night’s sleep. It’s just what I need to keep the blues away.”

I felt a twist in my gut and glanced away, realizing again that she had no inkling of what was coming. She must have noticed something in my expression because she leaned toward me.

“What’s wrong? Did I say something that upset you?”

“No,” I said. “I was just reminded of something else. But I was wondering if you’re nervous about attending the festival alone.”

“Because of Griffin, you mean?”

“Dax and Nash, too.”

“Not really. There are going to be thousands of people there, so I think I can get in and out without running into any of them. But even if I do, I doubt that any of them will make a scene.”

“Do you think Dax will keep his distance? Since the police warned him to stay away?”

“I hope so.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear before going on. “I didn’t mention it to you, but not too long ago, he left a letter in my bike basket, when I was in town running errands.”

“Did you tell the police?”

“No,” she answered. “I didn’t discover it until I was already home, and I crumpled it up and tossed it. I’m sure it’s still in the shed somewhere if I change my mind about showing it to the police, but right now, I’m just focusing on putting all of this behind me.”

“I don’t like him.”

“You haven’t even met him.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, not bothering to correct her. “I’m on your side.”

“I wish more people were these days,” she said.

She shimmered, the outline of her shoulders and legs losing some definition. I was reminded that she could vanish at any moment. Her last visit had ended long before sunset, and recalling how Oscar’s call had made her disappear, I set my glass on the coffee table.

“Hold on for a second,” I said, reaching into my back pocket and turning off my phone. I stood up to make sure my computer was off as well.

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t want us to be disturbed,” I said, sitting next to her again. “Technology can be intrusive.”

Looking around the house as if seeing it for the last time, she was suddenly pensive.

“It’s going to be sad when I sell this place.

It’s the only home I’ve ever known. On the other hand, it will mean that I won’t have to scrimp and save the way I’ve had to my whole life.

” She sighed. “I’m sure I’m still going to check prices compulsively and shop at thrift stores.

Old habits, you know. I saved my babysitting money, then money I earned at the drugstore for two years to buy my first car. ”

“Your grandma didn’t help?”

“Are you kidding? Not a chance. She was the kind of woman who would bring items to the register and demand that the manager discount them on the spot. As a child, I was mortified by it, but I suppose it taught me to be careful with money. And no one believed in the value of financial independence more than my grandma did. When I sell this place, I don’t want to end up like one of those lottery winners who have to declare bankruptcy a few years after they collect their prize. ”

You won’t, I thought. You’ll never get the chance.

When I didn’t respond, she stared at me, her brows knit together. “You just got that look again.”

“I must be tired. I slept in this morning, but I guess it wasn’t enough.”

I wasn’t sure she believed me, but she let it pass. “I do have a favor to ask. It feels a little weird, though, and you can of course say no.”

“What is it?”