Wild Orchids Read online

  “For the life of me,” Noble said, “I can’t understand bagels. Hard ol’ things. What’d’ya think Yankees like about them?”

  “Beats me,” I said as I took the last cream puff. As always, I squashed the cream onto my extended tongue, and only when the pastry was empty did I eat the doughnut in two bites. “So tell me more.”

  I don’t know exactly when they’d done all their talking, but from the red rim around Noble’s eyes, I could believe he and Allie had talked on the phone after everyone went home. It seemed that Allie and her ex-husband had bought the rotten old house across the street from mine, intending to fix it up and live in it. But he’d received a job offer in another state and had accepted it.

  “So why didn’t she go with him?” I asked.

  “Damned if I know,” Noble said. “I didn’t want to horn in on another man’s territory so—”

  He broke off at a look from me, as I silently reminded him that I didn’t want to hear his B.S. If Noble wanted to know about a woman’s ex, it was to see if he was going to, yet again, wake up with a shotgun under his chin.

  But Noble shrugged in genuine puzzlement. “I don’t know why she didn’t go with him. She just said she ‘couldn’t.’”

  “That’s odd,” I said. “That’s just what Nate said. He ‘couldn’t’ leave.” I was looking at the doughnuts. There were six of them still in the boxes. Shame to waste them. “So what’s the plan?” I asked again.

  Noble told me he’d gone through Allie’s house that morning and it was a mess, but he could fix it. He grabbed one of the napkins no one had used—wipe glazed sugar off fingertips? a sacrilege!—and looked about for a pencil. I pulled a little aluminum ballpoint out of my pants pocket. A person never knew when he was going to get an idea.

  Quickly, Noble sketched the plan to the ground floor of the house. I’d never before seen him do that and I was impressed. I’d be willing to bet that his drawing was as close to scale as it could be without using a ruler.

  As I looked at the drawing, I considered what Noble had told me about the next generation of Newcombes. One of the brats had had enough brains and talent as an architect to win awards. Judging from Noble’s drawing, had circumstances been different, he could have gone to school and…Well…

  I tried to concentrate on Noble’s drawing and his talk, but there was something in the back of my mind that I couldn’t seem to bring to the forefront. Noble showed how he could move this wall and that one, enlarge a door, and if he merged the kitchen with the butler’s pantry, he could make a commercial kitchen.

  My mind perked up when he started talking about “living quarters” upstairs. Those weren’t Newcombe words, so Noble had picked them up from someone else, and I assumed it was Allie. As far as I could tell, he was going to renovate the upstairs so Allie and Tessa could move in there, then Allie and Noble would run a bakery on the ground floor.

  Of course I was to pay for it all; that went without saying. But I didn’t mind. Having Tessa across the street, and my dad playing ping-pong back and forth between the two houses, suited me. Of course with the way Noble cooked in quantity, we’d all eat together.

  As I listened to Noble, I kept trying to figure out what was bothering me. It was an idea about something, but I still couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

  “Where’s Jackie?” I asked after a while.

  “Deep in acid,” Noble said, nodding toward her studio.

  Last night I’d seen her camera flash go off about a hundred times as she photographed everyone and everything. I knew she was trying to cover the fact that what she really wanted was some knockout photos of Toodles and the mayor together. A Munchkin and a gnome.

  “So who was the man?” Noble asked, nodding toward the garden gate.

  I grimaced. My cousin didn’t miss much. About halfway through the party, Jackie had disappeared through the gate and returned a few minutes later with that look on her face. It was the look I’d had to put up with for days after she’d picked up that man in the forest. I hated to think of it as the “Russell Dunne look” but that’s what it was.

  But at least last night I’d been able to get her back to normal quickly. All it took was a joke or two from me about Miss Essie Lee and she was fine, dancing with everyone.

  Noble was looking at me hard and waiting for a reply, but I had none, so I just shrugged.

  Looking away, disgust on his face, Noble shook his head. “What’d they do to you up there in New York? Cut it off? What’s wrong with you that you’re lettin’ another man take what’s yours?”

  I sat up straighter in my seat. “Jackie is my assistant. She’s—”

  “Hell! She’s your wife except in bed. I never saw two people meaner to each other than you two are. Either of you gets in a bad mood, you just say somethin’ nasty to the other one and you’re all cheered up again. If that ain’t true love, I don’t know what is.”

  I couldn’t believe what came out of my mouth next. “Love is mutual respect. It’s caring about—”

  Noble didn’t even reply. He just got up from the table and went to help Toodles and Tessa with their kite.

  Damn, but I knew what Noble was talking about. I knew very well that I was crazy about Jackie. Yeah, she bossed me around and she sometimes cut me to shreds with that tongue of hers, but I sure did enjoy her company.

  I sat at the table by myself, finished off the doughnuts and the OJ, and tried to think of something besides Jackie sneaking through the garden gate to meet some guy she’d known less time than she’d known me—but seemed to like more.

  How could I tell Noble that I just didn’t feel confident with Jackie? She was quite a bit younger than I was. And she was about half my weight. She should have some guy who got up at five and ran six miles.

  Just days ago I’d kissed her and it had knocked me for a loop, but all Jackie did was start moving all those olive rings I’d pulled off my food with her toe. She was more interested in cleaning up than in me.

  I sat there for a while, wallowing in self-pity, but also trying to figure out what was eating at the back of my mind. It had something to do with Noble. I went over all he’d told me about the family and Newcombe Land, but I couldn’t pin down what I was thinking about.

  For the rest of the day, I sat around in the garden or stretched out in the hammock, and at one point, I began pacing, but I still couldn’t grasp what was so clearly in the back of my mind. It was as though there was a tiny nugget of gold buried in my brain, hidden under layers of debris, but, try as I might, I could not find it.

  Jackie came out of her studio at about four and showed us her pictures from the party. The best ones were of Dad and Miss Essie Lee looking starry-eyed at each other. When Jackie looked at me, I knew she was thinking about who my stepmother was going to be.

  But I was thinking so hard that I didn’t so much as smile.

  “What’s wrong with him?” I heard Jackie ask Noble.

  “Always been like that,” Noble answered. “He’s thinkin’ on somethin’ big, and when he gets it, he’ll rejoin the livin’. And it’s no use tryin’ to talk to him now, ’cause he don’t see you.”

  I wanted to refute that, wanted to tell Noble that that was absurd, but I was too busy trying to find the idea that was somewhere in my head.

  On Monday morning I awoke at six A.M. and the single word “kids” was in my head. It was in huge letters inside my brain, and everything I’d been trying to find was in that word.

  I pulled on whatever clothes I’d dropped on the floor the night before and went upstairs to my office. I didn’t bother with a computer. This needed the intimacy of handwriting. I picked up a clipboard and one of the twenty-five unlined writing pads I’d bought, as well as one of my beloved rolling ball pens, and started writing.

  It was Noble’s presence and his story about saving me when we were kids that had planted that little nugget of gold in my head. And the story I’d told at dinner. And Jackie’s remark about the Harry Potter books. Actually