Chapter 5

I drive home from the café after work and stare for a minute at the tree line from the driveway. At seven o'clock, everyone is home. I enter the house and find Perry watching a baseball game on TV with Mom while Dad sautés at the stove behind them. Mom doesn't seem to be paying much attention to the game; her attention is fixated on her pink-covered tablet.

She looks as I appear in the archway and then reverts. "Mia. Hi, Love. How was work?"

"Fine. We were pretty busy."

"Well, that's Friday for you."

I place my bag on a counter island stool and sit on the seat beside it. "What's for dinner?"

"Got a cottage pie in the oven and green beans on the stove," Dad says. "Should be ready in about five minutes."

"Speaking of dinner." Mom announces, "It turns out Cathy can't do the Society dinner at her house next week, so I told everyone we would do it here tomorrow."

I swivel the stool, first facing Dad and then Mom. He asks, "Are we expecting the whole Society?"

"Not Louanne, but Marianne, Cathy, Rob, Dennise and Al, Charmaine, Betsy — they're all coming. Oh, I also invited Harvey. I'm hoping he'll join the Society and bring a younger perspective, fresh ideas, and the works. His family goes way back to the beginning of this town, so that fits, and that banner he found for us has been beautifully kept; it's really going to shine at the festival. Besides, I hear he's good with tools — a fixer — and that always comes in handy.

My thoughts rewind to Harvey entering the museum and then standing at his front door. Now he's coming here for dinner. Suddenly the idea of eating makes me want to hurl.

"Are we doing salmon for the dinner party?"

"I thought that would be nice. I mean, we still have twelve frozen fillets in the garage from Pat."

"Make something else for the kids," Dad ponders.

"Kids don't have to join us — I'm sure they don't want to."

Perry confirms. "We don't."

"That doesn't include you, Mia. I think you should join us," Mom adds.

I stare at the busy pattern of our granite countertop, trying to belly-breath the discomfort away.

"Feeling okay?" Dad asks, now looking at me.

I nod. "I'm just gonna go change quick."

I take my bag and flee to my bedroom, but before I shut my door, Harper leaps out of her room across the hall and jams herself in the way. "I need to borrow a top," she heaves, so I release the door handle and trudge to my bed.

Harper goes right to my closet and starts rummaging.

"A top for dinner?" I question, still feeling woozy.

"No. There's a football game happening right now, and Kimmy is on her way to pick me up. Mom already said I could go. Afterwards, a bunch of people are going to Denny's."

I lie on my back. "Right."

She turns from my closet with my grey, long-sleeved, sweetheart neckline top in hand. "What's up with you? You've been off for, like, days now."

"No, I haven't," I rebuttal weakly. "I just... I have college, and it's hard."

Harper rolls her eyes in disbelief and leaves my room with my shirt. Downstairs, I hear Mom call, "Harper, Kimmy's here!"

"Shit," Harper mutters in the hall. She runs and shuts her door.

~•~

Saturday night — from my position at the top of our 'L'-shaped stairs — I watch our guests arrive one by one except for Al and Dennise who are married and who show up together. I sit on the first step and monitor from between the banister posts above, also concealed this way. Mom said Harvey accepted her invitation. Though, he hasn't arrived yet.

Perry is sleeping over at a friend's house, Harper is unlikely to leave her room until every last guest has gone home, and Teddy is hiding under my bed as he does during all society dinners. Despite wanting to hide away like Teddy, Mom asked me again to have dinner at the table with her puppy-dog eyes, and I couldn't say no. Really, there isn't any reason for me to say no other than the fact that Harvey is coming.

I realize and accept my schoolgirl crush on him, but acceptance doesn't give me enough control over my blushing and gushing. He makes me nervous in a fluttery way, and I'm embarrassed for fluttering.

The doorbell rings with only Harvey and Betsy missing from the living room. My mom excuses herself from the others with a wine glass in hand and answers the door. Before I can see who it is, she beams. "Harvey, Darling, please come in."

I automatically lean backward to further obscure myself. My mom swings the door all the way open and practically reels him into the foyer. The first thing I notice about Harvey is the charming smile pulling at his lips and the dimples created by it. My eyes narrow. Totally unprovoked, Harvey peers up at me, spotting me through the curvaceous banister posts. I scoot backward into the hallway wall — now definitely hidden — as my heart immediately drives into my ribs.

"Damn it," I curse under my breath, feeling like a child caught spying on my parents' guests.

I hear my mom ask him, "How are you, Harvey? Been busy working at that beautiful house?"

I listen hard to catch his, "Always."

I pinch the bridge of my nose, and my bracelet slides down my arm. I told Dad I would help with dinner while Mom entertains the Society, and I thought I could keep an eye on her this way, but now I find myself yearning to stay upstairs.

Once I find the courage to go downstairs, I sheepishly avoid the bustling living room and instead enter the kitchen on its side via the dining room. My dad notices me as he's sliding the baking sheets of salmon into the oven. "There you are," he says and straightens. "Looks like we need a bit more cheese on the cheese board."

"Got it." I open the fridge and stare into it, taking the fancy cheeses out slowly, fretting to close the door and look over the living room. I bite the bullet and do so anyway. Harvey's eyes catch mine again even though he's faced with both Dennise and Al who together supply an endless amount of questions. My face unfortunately flushes red.

I drop all the cheeses on the wood cutting board already laid out, and I grab a knife from the block behind me. My eyes are on the cheese, but my common sense is out the window, and my attention is as faulty as the lightbulb in the Laboratory basement. Continuously, I think: is he looking at me?

I cut my finger on the first cheese, wincing and bleeding rather quickly. Dad comes up behind me. "Woah. What happened? I looked away for one second."

"It's fine," I mutter and turn on the sink. I stick my sliced finger under the faucet and Harvey's gaze is again on me.

God, can I do nothing right with him here?

My Dad dries my hand with a paper towel and wraps my finger with a Band-Aid he must have found in that fantastical place only parents can access. TV remotes, my car keys, and Perry's jackets are often found there.

"Why don't you set the table instead, hm?" Dad suggests, patting my bandaged hand endearingly. I nod and heedlessly do as I'm told. Clearly, for the time being, I cannot be trusted to control my own body.

By the time the salmon is done, the table is set, and the guest gathers in the dining room, they've all had their turn with Harvey like he's a new toy. But he handles the attention well. He smiles his pretty smile and entertains all questions. My mom sits him in the middle of the table, and when I pass by, she pulls out the chair beside him. "Sit, Mia."

There rest of the seats are taken one by one, so I lower down and smile kindly at Harvey to not look too much like a freak. Marianne looks between us and then asks Harvey about his restoration work on Norwood House, prompting my Mom to point out some of the things she and Dad have done around our house recently.

"But if I could take one thing back," she says, "I wouldn't have torn down so many walls downstairs."

Dad leans over the table. "All you did for months was beg me for a nice, open space."

"I was too young to make those sorts of decisions."

I eat quietly and listen to the conversation. Eventually, each side of the table chats amongst themselves except for two or three mentions from the other end of the room.

My gaze drifts from my plate to Harvey's hand, to his forearm, and then his bicep.

"Mia, how's school going? Have classes started?"

My head snaps to Dennise. "Yeah, at the beginning of the month, and they're going well."

She asks, "Are you still working at Blue Moon?"

I nod.

"Oh, I just love that place. Those new croissant sandwiches are to die for, but I thought it looked different yesterday when I was there. Did Taryn repaint the inside?"

"Over the summer. It used to be dark green."

"That's right. I can't believe it took me so long to notice."

Harvey's voice cuts through all others: "What are you going to school for?"

I face him. "I'm...not really sure. I keep changing my major."

"What do you have selected now?"

"Education."

"You'd make a great teacher," Dennise says. "We could use some good ones right here at your alma matter."

Black Lake High. The thought of returning to such a place makes my salmon crawl right back up my throat. I nod at Dennise's suggestion politely — as the superintendent of the district, she would suggest such a horrible fate — but I keep my objections to myself.

Dennise twists in her seat when Louanne makes a pit stop behind her on the way to the washroom. Suddenly they're talking about the equinox festival, and I'm spared.

"You can always change your major again," Harvey says.

"Yeah, I'm thinking I'll give history a go again."

"What part of history would you most want to learn about?"

I set my fork on the rim of my plate. "The Victorians, probably, and not just because this is a very Victorian town, and I live in a very Victorian house."

He asks, "What is it about them?"

"Their attention to detail, obsession with death, misuse of poisons, gothic novels — they're so theatrically strange. I think it'd be fun."

"The other day, while I was going through the basement storage in Norwood House, I found a collection of keepsakes all made with hair: embroidery, jewelry, a brooch."

"Was there a name with any of it?"

"No, but the brooch has the year 1899 carved into the back, so I thought it might be Dr. Norwood's mother's hair. She likely passed that year."

"You must know a lot more about him than what we have displayed at the museum."

"Actually, there are things I learned from the laboratory. My parents mentioned Dr. Norwood from time to time when I was young, but, for the most part, I only have some of his things to tell me what he was like."

"So what will you do with all the stuff?"

"Store it properly and keep it in the family. Maybe the next generation will appreciate it more than I do."

"For a child, it'd be like going through long-lost treasure; I would have loved it."

Suddenly my mother juts between us with a few sharp taps of her knife on her wine glass. Everyone watches her as she stands at the head of the table and gives a short toast to thank everyone for being here and for dedicating so much time to this year's equinox festival.

The festival is next weekend, and then the autumn season truly begins.

I help Dad with the tower of dishes while the guests have one last drink or a cup of coffee before heading home. When they do start to leave, I say my goodbyes. I'm told to keep up my studies in return, and that they'll see me again the day of the festival — of course, I'll be woken at the crack of dawn to help set up.

I see Harvey shake my dad's hand and thank my mom for everything. I linger near the staircase and catch his glance. He lifts his hand, a short wave goodbye, so I do the same with a small smile. And then he's gone, just like that, and something deflates within me.