The Mirror - Page 188

“Yeah, caught her.” When Mookie won the race, returned with the ball, Owen gave it a toss. “And you had that right. Hot babe.”

“It—it was happy.” As the music continued, Sonya wandered the foyer. “And loud. I guess, maybe, they didn’t hear us? That sounds crazy, but given the circumstances. And now I wonder if they do this when we’re not here.”

“I think they were celebrating for you.”

Touched, stunned, Sonya turned back to Trey as the music switched to Whitney Houston and “I Wanna Dance with Somebody (Who Loves Me).”

“And there you go,” he said.

“So do I.” Cleo grabbed Owen’s hand. “I wanna dance with somebody.”

“Me, too!”

As she kicked off her shoes, Sonya decided this made it the perfect celebration.

So they danced in the light as the spirits of the manor had danced.

Chapter Twenty-five

Maine bloomed in May. To add their part, Sonya and Cleo decided to hit the garden center.

“Son, we need to take the truck for this.”

“But do we really?”

“We do, really. Even if we just do the dozen pots we picked out, washed out, we’re not going to have room in your car or mine. We have to buy potting soil, and the peat moss. I really want to try herbs and tomatoes. Maybe peppers, too. Add all that to flats of flowers, and there’s just no way.”

“But it’s so big.”

“That’s the point.” Along with a bolstering smile, Cleo tried an encouraging shoulder pat. “You can do this.”

“I’ve got an idea!” Sonya shot a finger in the air. “Why don’t you drive the big, scary truck?”

Cleo shook her head. “You first.”

“There’s only one solution. Rock, paper, scissors.”

A moment later, Sonya looked down as Cleo’s rock crushed her scissors.

“Damn it. I know you’re right about taking it. I hate you’re right about taking it. I should’ve done a test run. Like just driven up and down Manor Road a couple times.”

“We’re going for it.” So saying, Cleo pulled out the remote she’d stuck in her pocket and opened the garage door.

It sat in there. Big, black, terrifying.

“It’s a monster.” Sonya approached it with dread. But she opened the driver’s door.

She wanted to fill those damn pots with flowers, didn’t she?

“Okay. I’m getting in.” When she did, she sat staring straight ahead. “I can’t reach the pedals, so—”

“That’s why you adjust the seat.”

She did, fussed with the mirrors, put on her seat belt.

“Maybe it won’t start.”

Of course it did. Either Trey or Owen had run it every couple of weeks since she’d moved in, so it started right up. With a roar.