Her Last Letter Part 9

Trevor entered from behind us with the wine bottles. "Happy Thanksgiving, Linda." He kissed her on the cheek. "What would you like me to do with these?"

"Oh, how nice of you both. Thank you so much. Here, let me take them. I've already got two bottles open."

He handed over the wine, then stood gazing at the food.

"Can you do me a favor?" she asked. "Can you take these out to the living room?" She handed him a silver tray of mushrooms and one of canapes. "I have my hands full right now."

"Sure, no problem."

She watched him leave, then lowered her voice. "Yes, shoo fly, shoo, and don't come back. Why is it men always want to stick around the kitchen and get in the way? At least Wolfgang knows better than to come in here when I'm cooking."

I glanced at the hired chef, a lanky older man Linda had used on other occasions. He didn't look up from his stirring and seemed happy to be left alone.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Fine." She rotated her shoulder for me. "I still feel it a little, but less and less all the time."

I looked back toward the door leading to the living room. "And did you talk to her?"

"Who?"

"You know."

"Gwyn, not in the kitchen." She motioned toward the cook, then whispered, "Big ears." She took me by the arm. "Come on, I want to show you the new bathroom."

She led me down the hall past the living room and on upstairs, then she stopped and turned to me. "I called my girlfriend, Sheila, and everything is set. I talked to the investigator just last night and we decided to do a background check on them, then go from there."

"That's all?"

"Well, if there's a red light somewhere in their past it will probably show up there."

"But I thought maybe he would follow them and see what they're up to."

Linda studied me. "I don't understand. What would we gain by doing that? I don't think they're going around committing murders right and left. We would have read something in the papers by now."

I rolled my eyes. "It just seems like we should try to find out as much as possible, as soon as possible. You know, bug their phones. I don't know."

"We'll do the background check-for now. It's what he suggested."

"Did you tell him why we were asking?"

"h.e.l.l no. Why, did you think I would?"

"I didn't think about it until just now. What did you tell him?"

"Just that I wanted to check out their past. I didn't tell him more than that and he didn't ask."

I nodded. "Did he say how long it would take?"

"No, but he'll leave a message on my cell phone when he's got something."

We walked toward the remodeled bathroom even though I'd seen it the last time I came to visit.

"You saw this already, didn't you?" she said.

"Yes." I peered inside at the new shower, white embossed wallpaper, and green and white striped towels. A painting I'd done for Linda of a marina lined with sailboats adorned the wall.

"We should get back," she said.

The men were standing near the front window by the Christmas tree as we approached. Wolfgang held a gla.s.s of red wine. Trevor was reaching for another stuffed mushroom.

"So when do we eat?" Wolfgang asked with a smile at Linda.

"When it's ready," she answered, coming close to him and whispering something up toward his ear. He bent down to listen, then laughed.

"Hey, no secrets," said Trevor, wagging a finger. "Very impolite."

"She's making lewd suggestions."

"I was not." Linda bopped him on the arm.

"Yes, you were." He drew Linda into his waist and held her there.

I looked across to Trevor, my arms folded tightly to my chest.

"Gwyn," said Wolfgang, "don't look so stiff. Relax."

I ignored him and nodded toward the Christmas tree, delicately ornamented in silver and gold. "Your tree is so pretty. I don't even have ours up yet."

"I didn't do it this year," Linda said, "what with the accident. Wolfgang wouldn't let me."

"I don't know why she bothers," he said, "too much work if you ask me."

"I like decorating the tree," she said. "It puts me in the mood for Christmas."

"Seems silly," said Wolfgang. "We're not even going to be here."

"You're not?" I said. "Where are you going to be?"

"Hawaii," said Linda. "Isn't it great? It's Wolfgang's idea, a surprise Christmas present for me. He sprung it on me this morning."

"How long?" I asked.

"Two weeks," she said, "over Christmas and New Year's. We'll have the remodeling done by then and we'll both need a break."

"And," said Wolfgang, "it will give her an excuse to buy a whole new wardrobe for her new enormous walk-in closet."

"And for you to parade around in front of all the young chickees on the beach."

Wolfgang raised his eyebrows. "Hadn't thought of that." He flexed an arm. "I'll have to add a few extra reps to the workout."

We turned our heads at the jingle of a small bell. The dining room table was now set with an elaborate array of food.

Linda leaned in toward me. "The bell is his idea, Renard, the cook. But I guess it's better than yelling-hey, come and get it." She shrugged.

On the table were platters of turkey, sliced ham, and roast beef, along with bowls of bean salads and tossed salads, asparagus and squash, twice baked potatoes and au gratin. And Linda was pleased to inform us that she had four different desserts out in the kitchen, so we'd better save some room.

Wolfgang pulled out a chair for Linda, and Trevor did the same for me. We toasted to the holiday season and almost forgot to say grace until I spoke up.

"Oh, yes," said Linda. "Wolfgang, would you do it, please?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

"Okay." He bowed his head. "Thanks, G.o.d, for the really great food. And ... and all the other stuff. Amen."

Linda turned to stare at him.

"What?" he said.

"It's okay. Next time I won't ask. Let's try that again." We bowed our heads once more. "Thank you, dear Lord, for the bounty we are about to receive, and our many blessings. We pray for those less fortunate, that they too might enjoy this day, and we humbly ask that you feed the hearts and souls of those who need your guidance, and lead them to the path of righteousness in your name's sake...."

Finally, she finished the prayer and smiled.

After dinner and a round of desserts, we sat at the table drinking coffee. Wolfgang leaned forward on his elbows and addressed Trevor. "So, what are you and Gwyn doing over Christmas?"

"I don't know. Skiing, maybe. I'd like to do a little of that."

"Downhill?"

"Yeah, what else?"

"Sometime I'm going to take you out in the backcountry with me, ski the deep powder. You don't know what you're missing."

"Sounds like too much work. What do I want to walk uphill for when I can take a chairlift?"

"You don't have to walk uphill. I like to do it that way, but you don't have to."

"What do you mean?"

"Snowmobile. You take three guys, one drives and carries another guy uphill. You take turns."

"You've done that?"

"Sure, but I'd rather climb. You can ski a lot of powder if you use a snowmobile, and I know where the powder just hangs around for days waiting for tracks."

"I don't know. I'm a decent skier. But I'm not sure I'd enjoy it that much."

"Oh, you should go," said Linda. "You'd love it. I've gone out with him ... not on a snowmobile. I like to use my telemark skis and skins. Gwyn does it."

"Yes," I said, "but Trevor just learned to ski a few years ago. He hasn't had a chance to ski much powder-"

"Now wait a minute," Trevor said. "I could handle it, no problem. I'm just not sure it's something I want to try. But hey, I might go out there with you, at least once I do a little downhill skiing and get the legs in shape."

Wolfgang smiled widely. "Then we'll do it."

The conversation turned to talk of the good old days. Linda spoke of how the family used to go sledding when we were kids and the fun we'd have. "Gwyn would scare me half to death. She'd get me on that sled and we'd fly down so fast that when I finally tumbled off I flipped over at least three times. She'd never let me go in front and steer."

"You didn't want to go in front and steer," I said.

"Well, you were the oldest. And the daredevil. Gwyn's quite the athlete."

"I'm okay."

"You're a lot better than okay," she said.

"Yes, she is," said Trevor. "She's a much better skier than I am. No contest."

"Well, then," said Wolfgang, "maybe you should join us too." He motioned at me with his coffee cup. "In the backcountry."

Linda laughed. "Wolfgang, she goes out in the backcountry all the time in the winter, and she hikes in the summer. She hikes all over the place taking her pictures. She hikes, she skis, and she can handle a snowmobile better than most guys. You don't know Gwyn."

"Oh," he said. "Well, I guess I don't."

"Shows how much you listen when I talk."

"So, sounds like the whole family was into sports," Wolfgang said.

"Not exactly," said Linda. "Dad liked to snowshoe sometimes, when he wasn't working, and that wasn't much. Mom, she mainly stayed in the house. She liked to cook and do her embroidery. She could do sports, but she wasn't that interested, I guess."

"She liked to cross-country ski sometimes," I said. "She'd take me out."

"Yes, but I think only because she knew you liked it," said Linda, "and you didn't go far."

Linda put her hands on the table and pushed herself up. "More coffee anyone? Renard's gone home, so we're on our own. How about more dessert?"

Trevor patted his stomach. "No can do."

I watched Linda leave the room, then turned toward Wolfgang. "So, where is your family now?"

"What's left of them are in Washington, Washington state, that is. My parents are gone, died a long time ago."

"What happened to them?"

"They were killed ... in an accident."

"An accident?" I asked.