She started coughing, sloshing her mug, sending liquid splashing dangerously close to her keyboard.
“Damn!” She managed between throat spasms. She grabbed a handful of tissues and blotted the spill, then went back to the page. It must have been someone else. Or it was an old photo she’d somehow missed.
Nope. It was Bethany Kyle. Posted this morning.
Can’t wait to be together forever! said the next one, in case Carrie wasn’t convinced. Bethany and Elliot, arm in arm, backlit by the sunset over Cherry Lake.
Again, just posted.
“What. The. Hell.”
“Toodles,” called a voice from the kitchen door. “Anyone home?”
Aunt Pansy. The woman, who was Grandfather’s age and a good friend of his, walked all over town winter or summer, rain or shine. She had no family of her own that anyone knew of, nor was she actually related. She’d just been Aunt Pansy to everyone as long as anyone could remember.
She always had numerous invitations to holiday dinners, knew the inner workings of pretty much every family, and had a special fondness for Nate Jackson’s offspring, especially Carrie and her cousins. That old Jackson shine.
Could use a little polish, that shine.
She heard the sound of the front door closing as Pansy made herself at home.
“Carrie? I just passed Jess on the road. I know you’re here. I brought muffins. Heard you were out painting the town last night. Figured you could use some fortification.”
Carrie closed her eyes. “Hey, Aunt Pan.”
She got up from the couch and met the woman in the kitchen.
“Look at you,” said Pansy, shaking her head. “That Jessica. She’s a bad influence.”
“It’s not her fault,” said Carrie automatically. She reached out for the paper bag. “Morning glory?”
Pansy nodded. “Carrots, raisins, pineapple, nuts, bran. Plus bear-claws. Cures what ails you. Is that coffee fresh?”
“Of course.” Carrie gestured for Pansy to sit down at the table.
“So?” she said, her wrinkled face alight with curiosity. “How’s my girl today?”
In some ways, Pansy was more like a mother to her than Cathy was, thought Carrie as she fixed a mug for the woman. She listened. More to the point, she seemed to know intuitively when something was wrong. Which made her both an enormous comfort, and a danger.
It was tough to keep things from Pansy.
“I’m okay.”
Pan arched an eyebrow.
Carrie shrugged. “Business troubles.”
“Too much work, not enough time?”
“Something like that.”
Not at all like that, but she didn’t want to worry Pansy unnecessarily. Ethan would take care of her real problem and no one would ever be the wiser. “Hey, do you know what’s going on with Bethany Kyle? She called me to say her wedding was off. But this morning, I saw new photos on her SnapShot site.”
Pansy took a muffin, tore it in half and handed one piece to Carrie. “Oh, that girl is never going to have a life until she gets out from under that steel thumb of her father’s.”
“What does that mean?”
“So she told you the wedding was off, did she?” Pansy wiped crumbs from the corner of her mouth. “In so many words?”
“She did.” Carrie paused. “Well. She was crying. And she said she had to cancel. She sounded heartbroken. I don’t understand.”
“Don’t take it personally, Care-Bear.” Aunt Pansy reached across the table and patted Carrie’s hand. “Like I said, her daddy runs the show. She’s your friend, but you know how it is. The one with the cash makes the rules.”
Carrie blinked. “Are you saying the wedding’s still on… but she dumped me? She’s not going with Forever Yours anymore?”
Hurt battled with anger inside her. She’d refunded the deposit, thinking the poor girl was suffering.
“Poor thing, she’s even more of a good girl than you are,” said Aunt Pan. “It’s no life at all, spending your days in the center of the boat where you can’t see the view. You’ve got to go to the edges now and then, get things rocking, if you want to live. You know what I mean, I think. Don’t you?”