Page 8 of When Sparks Fly
“You are every bit a proper lady, my dear...whatever that means these days. Marjorie was hopelessly stuck in the age of those old black-and-white Hollywood movies where so-calledladieswore big hats and white gloves while they stabbed you in the back. I prefer my lady friends looking me right in the eye when they’re trying to bury me.”
“I’m not trying to bury you, Vickie, but I get what you’re saying.” Zoey’s nose wrinkled as she set the bagel down after one small bite. “If I eat the rest of this, I’ll be losing clients from here to Watkins Glen. Sorry for wasting it—the cream cheese smells so good, but it’s a bad idea.”
Vickie chuckled. “I’ll eat it later, I’m sure. God, your mom loved a fully loaded breakfast. Western omelets, everythingbagels, onions galore in her scrambled eggs. I told her she was living dangerously, but she always said—” The memory caught up with her suddenly, making her melancholy decades later. She swallowed hard. “She said if one was going to be living, they may as well do it as dangerously as possible as long as they could.”
“So bizarre how you two ever became friends. She was such a bohemian live wire and...” Zoey’s cheeks flushed.
“And I’m such an uptight snob?” She knew it was how many people thought of her.
“That isnotwhat I’m saying, and you know it. You’re not a snob, but you...um...care about appearances more than some people do. People like my mom, from what I’ve heard.”
“Oh, your momnevergave a damn what anyone thought about her.” Zoey looked so much like her mother—tall and slender, with the same long dark hair and brown eyes. The heavy brows and long eyelashes. The boldness of her walk. But Zoey’s air of confidence wasn’t quite as authentic as Gloria’s had been. She was smart and independent, running her own business and learning how to be a single mom, but there was an air of fragility to Zoey that Gloria never had. Probably because Zoey had lost her mother when she was only four years old.
An aneurism felled Gloria one morning as she cleaned up after breakfast. One minute she was talking to Rob about where they should go to dinner that weekend to celebrate their anniversary, and the next she was on the floor. Gone without warning at thirty-four. And just like that, the honorary title Vickie had accepted at Zoey’s christening became a solemn responsibility—godmother.
“I know you met at the Rendezvous Falls Festival Committee, but how...”
“I’ve told you the story a hundred times,” Vickie said. “I was married to Stanley Noor at the time.” Stan was her first husbandandfirst divorce. She didn’t care that he was bisexual, but shedidcare that he was unfaithful on a regular basis with any man or woman who gave him the opportunity. “Gloria wanted to change the Halloween festival to a Ghostwalk event, and I thought that was ridiculous. Letting people wander all over town and telling them nonsensical legends... I thought the town would be a laughingstock. And I said that in the meeting.” She could still recall that meeting, more than thirty years ago, and the ever so slight, but determined, narrowing of Gloria’s eyes.
Gloria was new to Rendezvous Falls back then. She’d followed Rob there after they married. She didn’t know anyone in town, but that didn’t stop her from volunteering for the prestigious festival committee which oversaw the near-monthly festivals that brought tourist revenue to town.
“Yes, I know,” Zoey said, munching on the plain bagel she’d spread just a bit of butter on. “You and Mom got into a shouting match in a meeting, and like some lovers’ meet-cute in a movie, you became fast friends afterward.”
“It wasn’t a shouting match.” Vickie sniffed. “I don’t do public shouting matches. But your mom wouldn’t back down an inch.” She circled her hand in front of her stomach. “And she was out to here, pregnant with you.”
Zoey gave her a wink. “Well, she got her way.Andshe was right. The Ghostwalk is still one of the biggest festivals every year.”
“Yes it is.” Vickie finished her bagel. “It’s a perfect event for a town full of old houses. The stories were already there—we just had to collect them.”
Zoey was looking out the French doors facing the water from the kitchen. “Oh, no—what happened out there?” She was pointing at the broken section of railing and a crushed corner on the deck.
“Ugh,” Vickie answered, making a face. She hated messes and her back deck was nothingbuta mess right now. “That storm we had last month brought down a huge limb from that maple tree. Luckily it missed the house, but it took out the whole corner of the deck. The tree guys finished cleaning up the debris last week.” She joined Zoey at the door. “Gordon Lexiter is going to do the deck work...hopefully sooner rather than later. He was supposed to start this week, but as you can see, there’s no sign of him yet.”
She knew people thought she was too demanding, but how hard was it to be punctual?
“Gordy’s a good guy,” Zoey said. “You two went to school together, right?”
“He was a year behind me, but yes. It’s not like we hung out in the same circles.” Not that anyone knew of, at least. But there was that one night...
Zoey laughed. “I wasn’t suggesting you were sweethearts or anything. Just that you’re both locals, like me.” Her phone let out a ping, and she pulled it out to check, then started laughing. “Mike and his stupid riddles.” She responded, then groaned, turning the phone so Vickie could read the texts.
M: What’s the opposite of a croissant?
Z: No clue
M: A happy uncle!
“You two have been trading jokes since you were kids.” Vickie rolled her eyes. “After all these years, the jokes aren’t getting any better.”
“I can’t argue that,” Zoey answered. “And speaking of Mike...did you and your pals really set him up with Rachel the librarian? She lives on a boat that’s lucky to be floating for all the books inside. What on earth made you think that was a good idea?”
Vickie let out a long sigh. That hadn’t been the book club’s greatest match. “We’re running out of options for the man. Cecile said Rachel was a nice, quiet woman who was a little shy. Mike’s a nice, quiet guy who never goes anywhere, so we thought maybe they could be a nice quiet coupletogether.”
“I think your little gang of matchmakers should take a break where Mike is concerned. I know it’s been three years since Becca died, but neither Mary nor I get the sense that he has any real interest in dating yet.”
Vickie sighed again. “Well, you two would know. She’s his twin and you may as well be. We just hate to see such a pleasant, handsome, successful man with no one by his side.” She tipped her head and stared at Zoey. “You aren’t interested...?”
“Oh,hell, no!” Zoey’s face scrunched up. “We’ve known each other since third grade, and there’s never been a hint of attraction between us.” She leveled a look at Vickie. “Don’t even think about it.”