“Now you really have me curious. What did you come up with?”

“I found a few possibilities, and then I went to Abigail at Floral Fantasies and explained the situation. She loved the whole idea, and is searching nurseries and florists to see what she can find. She’s not even going to tell me ahead of time. She considers my bouquet a creative quest. The flowers or plants I suggested were ferns, for sincerity; rue, for reason; everlasting peas, for lasting pleasure; ivy, for fidelity; pinks, for elegance; and chamomile flowers, which look like daisies, for energy in adversity.”

“Oh, what fun! So you don’t know exactly what your bouquet will look like—or even what colors it will be!” said Maggie. “And by the way, I think I’ll lay in a supply of chamomile. I like that ‘energy in adversity’ idea. And here I always thought chamomile was supposed to relax you.”

“I did, too. But I guess not in Victorian times. And no, I won’t know exactly what my bouquet will look like until I see it. Abigail has a friend who does calligraphy; she’s going to have her friend write down everything that’s in the bouquet so I’ll have it as a souvenir. Whatever she finds, I’ll have a bouquet of good wishes from the past for the future.”

Maggie’s phone hummed. “Excuse me a minute.” She glanced down. “It’s a text, from Will,” she said. “He wonders whether the storm has made any difference in your plans. Have either of you heard anything about a storm?”

Chapter 24

Professor John David O’Flynn. “Professor John David O’Flynn / Oft played on his dear violin. / Then the people would say: / ‘There’s a cyclone to-day!’ / And to cellars would promptly go in!”Amusing illustration of a wigged gentleman wildly playing his violin; his stool and his music stand are both falling, and his coat-tails are flying. French artist Edmund Dulac (1882-1953) dropped out of law school and studied at the École des Beaux-Arts. In 1904 he left for London, where he and Arthur Rackham became the most popular illustrators of “gift books” of their time, their paintings of wild and wonderful subjects reproduced in the new color separation process and then “tipped in” to illustrate books. This amusing illustration is dated 1906, just before Dulac got his first major contract. Bordered in black. 6 x 8 inches. Price: $60.

“A couple of days ago Mother mentioned something about a hurricane off the coast of Florida that she hoped wouldn’t interfere with her flight to Boston Friday morning,” said Jim. “I didn’t think much about it.”

None of them had been listening to weather forecasts. “Our cable’s disconnected at the old house, and not connected yet at the new one,” said Gussie. “But that doesn’t sound like anything serious. A hurricane off Florida in late October? This is Cape Cod. Not to worry. Jim, Maggie and I moved everything in the store to the new location, and have even started unpacking and setting up. What do you think, Maggie? Another two full days,” she looked at Maggie meaningfully, “and we’ll have enough arranged, and maybe the windows done, and I’ll be able to put up the sign saying I’ll be open next week.”

“That’s great,” said Jim. “One mission almost accomplished. What about the rest of your stuff?”

“Most of it’s ready to go,” said Gussie. “A few last-minute things to pack, and there’s the furniture.”

“How about moving tomorrow? We only have four days left until the wedding. And there’s your bachelorette party Friday night,” he reminded her. “Maybe you should have a couple of days in the house before then to get a bit settled.”

Gussie hesitated. “Maggie and I would need tomorrow morning to pack.”

“We’ll ask Diana to come and help,” Maggie suggested.

“Fine,” Gussie agreed. “And after we’ve finished packing and you and your friends arrive we’ll go over to the new house. We’ll be there to make sure you guys put the furniture and boxes in the right rooms.”

“Plans made, then,” said Jim. “I’ll call Andy tonight and check about the trucks.”

On her way back to Gussie’s house from the restaurant Maggie remembered she’d hoped to stop at the Winslow police station the next day to talk with Chief Irons about what was happening with the investigations related to the murder and to the attempted arson. He might not talk to her, but she could try. She’d also thought of having another beer at the Lazy Lobster. She had a feeling the bartender there knew more than he was saying.

Maybe she’d still have time.

But it sounded as if Gussie had her booked for tomorrow. And with Gussie moving to her new house she’d have to move to one of the B and Bs.

Plus, she really should call Will tonight. Maggie took a deep breath. Gussie was right. This weekend she had to tell Will about her adoption plans.

And with him arriving in a matter of hours, she was getting nervous.

She glanced down at her right hand, and her R-E-G-A-R-D ring sparkled back at her. Will was special.

But so much in both their lives was changing. His move from Buffalo to Maine was still a work in progress. He’d been a longtime widower who hadn’t been responsible to anyone but himself. Now he had to think of a woman in her nineties who might need attention twenty-four hours a day.

He’d had made it crystal clear, many times, that he didn’t want the responsibilities of parenthood. But without hesitation he’d volunteered to take care of his elderly aunt.

He hadn’t asked Maggie how she felt about that, had he?

Maggie shook her head. She was making excuses. She was fond of Aunt Nettie, too, and it had made sense that Will move to Maine to take care of her.

Maggie was thirty-nine. She only had a few years left in which she could be a parent, and not feel as though it would be more logical for her to be a child’s grandparent.

If Will had wanted to be a parent, too, that would have been perfect.

But he hadn’t. He’d made his choice. Now she’d made hers. She just had to tell him.

The next step would be up to him.

And she had to be prepared for the possibility that her decision would end what otherwise was the most perfect relationship of her life.

Maggie pulled her van into a space in back of Gussie’s old house.

“Hey, Gussie!” she called out to her friend, whose van’s wheelchair lift had almost reached the ground. “Why don’t we open another bottle of that champagne I brought you? Tonight is your last night in this house. That deserves a few toasts.”

Chapter 25

Night Sky: September and October.From Half Hour with the Stars by Richard A Proctor, 1887. Lithograph showing round dark blue sky with Milky Way and constellations for certain fall dates in the Northern Hemisphere. For October 22, the time is 8:00 P.M. Stars of different magnitudes are shown with different numbers of points. One of a series showing the night sky throughout the year. 9 x 11 inches. Price: $50.

The next day went by in a whirl of activity.

Diana’s presence was a big help with the packing. Maggie’d hoped she’d talk a little more about what was happening on Apple Orchard Lane. But today Diana was quiet.

“We’re fine,” she said. “The medical examiner hasn’t released Dad’s body yet, so we can’t plan a funeral.”

And a little later, “Cordelia’s back working on her dolls. She’s promised customers some special orders, and she says focusing on work keeps her mind off other things. A nice man from the fire department came and cleaned that stuff off the porch. He said it might be paint remover, not gasoline, but whatever it was, he got most of it off, so we’re not worried anymore. It still smells a little, but he says it’s safe.”

She seemed remarkably relaxed, considering all that had taken place in the past week. She and Gussie chatted about the wedding, and the guests, and she oohed and ahhed over Gussie’s dress and veil. They were getting along so well that Gussie asked if she’d like to help with preparations Saturday morning before the wedding. “Not too much, you understand. But a few ribbons and plants, and some flowers that the florist is sending. And maybe answer the phone and the door while I’m getting dressed.”