Chapter Thirty-Eight
The day dawned bright and hot. A typical Florida day. A good day to relax on the beach and take it easy. A good day to sit back and do nothing. That wasn't quite the way it worked out for Nancy and Frank. They did sleep late and missed breakfast completely.
Not a total loss, Frank said later. He and Nancy had certainly enjoyed their time together. But as lunch time rolled around they grew hungry, not only for food, but for the outside. Some food and a stroll on the beach .. maybe a quick swim, Frank said. So much to do these last few days.
And the days were precious and few now.
# # # #
There weren't many guests in the dining room when Frank and Nancy arrived for lunch. Molly greeted them with a smile. She looked rested and happy. Nancy was relieved to see the transformation.
Molly led Frank and Nancy to a table, chatting the whole. Wasn't it awful about Lana and Gary? Gary, who would have suspected him? And then Lana! Whatever had gotten into her? At least, the resort was back to normal operations and she and Tim could rest easy, put this whole nightmare behind them.
Frank and Nancy agreed.
"Here you are," Molly said. "A nice table by the windows."
Frank pulled out Nancy's chair, waited for her to get seated, and then sat across from her.
Molly told them the specials. "The chef's made clam chowder today. It's absolutely fabulous. I highly recommend it." Molly practically glowed.
Nancy smiled up at her. "You look well today, Molly. Has your appetite returned?"
Molly unconsciously rubbed her stomach. "It has, a little. This morning I was just a wee bit queasy. I'm taking it easy with my tummy though. I don't want to upset it."
"That's a good idea," Nancy said. "Um, I think I might know why you've been queasy and so tired lately."
Molly's brows rose. "Really?"
"It's only a guess, but have you considered the possibility you could be .. um, eating for two?"
Molly's jaw dropped and her eyelids fluttered. Eating for two? Was that possible? What?! Why of course, it was possible. What a silly thought! It was very, very possible!
Frank saw Molly sag like her knees might give out. He sprang up and put an arm around her. "You okay, Molly? You look a little faint."
Molly leaned on Frank for a second and let her head clear. She had felt faint. The idea she might be pregnant had shocked her. But honestly, it explained all of her symptoms.
"I .. I'm fine. Thank you."
Frank held onto Molly's elbow. "You sure?"
Molly waved him off. "Yes. I'm perfectly fine. Thank you. I .. I just had to wrap my brain around .. well, around the fact I could be .." she swallowed hard, "could be pregnant."
"That's good news, isn't it?" Nancy asked, a small frown wrinkling her forehead.
Frank stayed at Molly's side. She looked steady, but he wasn't taking any chances. Couldn't have the hostess collapsing at their table.
"I .. it's .. it's just so sudden," Molly stuttered.
"It's only a possibility," Nancy said. "There are plenty of other reasons for your fatigue. You've been under a lot of stress the past week, stress could explain your extreme fatigue."
Molly waved Frank into his seat and said, "I know and you're right, Nancy. It's just that the .. the possibility of being pregnant kind of shocked me." She giggled as if suddenly delighted by the idea. Babies and baby clothes, they were so warm and soft …
"You'll need a pregnancy test to know for sure," Nancy said. "You could get one in town." Nancy was thinking of Tim and how reluctant he'd been to call a doctor. He really did worry about their financial situation.
"I could." Molly looked over her shoulder in the direction of the bar. Tim was busy serving an elderly couple. She didn't want to say anything to him until she knew for certain if she was pregnant. She turned back to Nancy. "If I can, I'll run into town later. Sometimes, it's hard to get away."
Frank came to the rescue. "We could get one for you. We were planning on going into town after lunch and doing some souvenir shopping."
Nancy smiled at Frank. He'd made that up. They hadn't talked about going into town at all, but it was incredibly nice of him to offer and she loved him for it.
Molly accepted the offer and hurried away to see to other diners.
Frank winked at Nancy and said, "Looks like we're going souvenir shopping after lunch. Hope you don't mind."
A loving smile lit Nancy's face and eyes. "Not at all. I think it was wonderful of you to offer and I'm anxious to know if Molly is in fact pregnant."
Frank cocked his head and said, "Strangely, so am I."
As Nancy and Frank discussed what to order for lunch Bridget and her mother entered the dining room. Nancy watched the women surreptitiously. Bridget's mother was a dark haired, statuesque woman who carried herself with an air of dignity and authority. She directed Bridget to a table and motioned her into a seat, all without waiting for Molly, the hostess.
Molly had seen them enter and quickly arrived at their table, menus in hand. She greeted them cordially and told them the specials.
Bridget's mother did the ordering for herself and Bridget in a crisp, efficient voice. "We'll have club sandwiches followed by the clam chowder. You noted the followed by, I hope. We'll have the sandwiches first and then the chowder. We don't want them together."
Bridget partially covered her face with a hand. She looked like she wanted to slide under the table and hide.
Molly said she'd get right on those sandwiches and headed to the kitchen.
Nancy felt she now understood why Bridget had been reluctant to phone her mother after Bruce's death. Her mother did not give off the vibe of someone who could impart sympathy. To her, sympathy was probably for weaklings. At least, that was Nancy's guess.
Bridget and Nancy exchanged looks. Bridget's expression said, What can I do? She's in charge whether I like it or not.
Nancy turned to Frank and said, "Order me the chowder. I'm going to say 'hi' to Bridget and her mother."
Frank cast a glance at Bridget's mother, made a scoffing sound, and said, "Good luck with the mother. She doesn't look like the warm and fuzzy type to me."
"Precisely why I'm going to say 'hi.' I think Bridget could use a friendly face."
Frank glanced at Bridget's mother again. "I'd say you're right."
Nancy approached the table somewhat cautiously. Bridget's mother was assailing her daughter with advice and Bridget was nodding. However, if Nancy was any judge of character, she'd say Bridget wasn't really listening. She was merely humoring her mother.
"Hi," Nancy said, "forgive me for interrupting, but I wanted to stop by and check on Bridget." She directed her comments to Bridget's mother.
"She's fine," Bridget's mother said and scanned Nancy from head to toe. "And you are?"
"This is Nancy Drew," Bridget said. "Remember, I told you about her and Frank. They've been helping the police. They're private detectives."
"Oh, yes. I remember. Nancy Drew, nice to meet you. I'm Victoria Weller."
The woman extended a hand and Nancy shook it. "Nice to meet you Mrs. Weller."
A scowl darkened the older woman's face. "It's Ms not Mrs. I've tried to tell my daughter a woman doesn't need a man." Ms. Weller cast a disapproving glance in Frank's direction. "I should know, I've divorced two of them. I find I'm happier without them. Life's simpler without a husband. You can do what you want, when you want. You don't have someone hoovering over you, forever making demands on your time."
There were a thousand things Nancy could say to counter Ms. Weller's statements, but decided to keep her mouth shut. An argument with Ms. Weller would do no one any good and it was quite obvious Ms. Weller was a woman who did not often change her opinion.
"Did you hear about Lana and Gary?" Bridget asked.
"I did," Nancy said. "Frank and I were there when she .. when Lana had her meltdown." That was putting it mildly.
"I heard she stabbed Gary," Bridget said, her voice low. "Whatever made doe-eyed Lana do such a thing?"
Ms. Weller shook her head and rolled her eyes. It was clear she felt this conversation was wildly inappropriate.
Nancy was apprehensive about what she was about to say, but in the end, felt Bridget deserved the truth. "Lana found evidence of Gary's crimes in their bungalow. She found bloody clothes he'd hidden in a suitcase."
Bridget visibly paled. The realization that some of those clothes had to have had Bruce's blood on them hit hard. It was a stark, ugly reality and one that Bridget needed a moment to come to grips with.
She took several deep breathes and finally said, "Well, I have to give her credit for attacking him. I never would've thought Lana had it in her. I can't say it's a total surprise to find out that Gary's the killer." She looked up at Nancy. "I always thought he was an odd bird."
"You did mention that to me once," Nancy said and was amazed at how accurate Bridget's perception had been.
Bridget picked up her napkin and dabbed the corner of an eye. "Seems our meek, mild Gary was hiding a horrible secret. One that cost me my .."
"Good grief," Ms. Weller hissed. "Must you two have this conversation here and now?"
Nancy, although startled, got the message loud and clear. And she did agree with Ms. Weller. This conversation would be better held in private.
"I should get back to Frank. I'll see you both at dinner?" Nancy glanced from Ms. Weller to Bridget.
Bridget sniffed and laid down her napkin. "Yes, and Nancy, we'll talk later."
That last comment piqued Nancy's interest. As she walked back to her table she caught snippets of the women's conversation.
We have to eat, mother. I've made friends here.
Must you really interact with these people, Bridget? Wouldn't you prefer to pack and get out of here as soon as possible?
Poor Bridget, Nancy thought. Her mother was not the kind to provide the support and love Bridget so desperately needed at this time.
# # # #
Nancy and Frank enjoyed their lunch. As promised, the chowder was absolutely delicious. Light and creamy with a delicate fish flavor. Nancy was going to miss these heavenly meals when they left. Cooking was not a skill set Nancy excelled at. She'd had a housekeeper while growing up and hadn't had much opportunity to learn the art of cooking. Hannah Gruen, their housekeeper, had seen to everything. Hannah had been an excellent cook and a surrogate mother to Nancy. Nancy had grown to love Hannah dearly. Nancy and her father could not have found a better person to watch over their home and family.
But having a housekeeper had come at a cost. Nancy's mother had been murdered when Nancy was only three years old. In one dreadful day, Nancy had lost her mother, and her mother's love, due to someone's irrational act. An act of hate.
Just like Bridget, Nancy thought and looked over at Bridget and her mother. They were eating quietly, not saying much. They would get through this. Ms. Weller would see to it.
Nancy's mind turned to murderers. Murderers destroyed so many lives, not just the one they took. Families and friends were left behind to grieve. They, the family and friends, had no choice, they had to go on. The world demanded they keep on living, forever haunted by one incomprehensible act.
If a person wasn't careful they could wind up hating the world, blaming it for what had happened. It was easy to become envious of others. Others had what they did not … a mother, a father, sister, brother … the list went on and on.
Nancy had learned long ago that a person had to fill their heart with love and not hate. Hate destroyed a person as easily as cancer did. Love was the only way. A heart filled with love had no room for hate and jealousy, or any of those other petty, destructive emotions.
Nancy had filled her heart with love. A shy smile stole upon her lips and a soft blush warmed her cheeks. The man across from her had given her more love than she had ever thought possible. He was the light that chased away the darkness. He was steadfast in his loyalty to her and with him, she had no doubts, no second thoughts, no reservations. He would be there for her through thick and thin. His commitment to her would never waver. For all of that, and so much more, she loved him. Loved him with all her heart, today and forever.
She reached a hand across the table. He grinned and wrapped a large, strong hand around hers. He stroked her knuckles with his thumb.
"What are you thinking about?" His gaze was direct and intense.
Her reply was simple and honest. "I'm thinking how happy you make me and how much I love you."