“Let’s just start with dinner,” she suggested, moving around the island to give him a kiss on the cheek before heading upstairs to freshen up after the long flight across the country.
CHAPTER 30
One year later
Gwen drove into the museum parking lot on the first day of spring. She got out of the car and reached back in for her travel mug, slung her purse over her shoulder, and went around to the front door. Inside, she passed Nora, who was on her way to the gift shop with the cash drawer under one arm, balanced on her hip.
“Good morning,” Gwen said. “Another gorgeous day.”
“They say it’s going to be a scorcher.” Nora continued to the gift shop to open the till.
Gwen arrived at her office and hurried to unlock the door because her desk phone was ringing. She walked in and dropped her purse onto the chair and lunged at her phone to answer it. It was a local independent bookstore owner.
“Good morning, Gwen,” he said. “I’m sorry to bother you again, but do you have any spare copies of the book? I sold out yesterday, and I don’t have a shipment coming until Tuesday, but there’s a lady here who’s eager to read it. I thought I’d send her over there if you have copies?”
“I do,” she replied. “They’re in the gift shop. Tell her to come on over. The museum doesn’t open until ten, but I’ll unlock the front door for her.”
“Thanks. You’re a peach.”
Gwen hung up and smiled. Peter’s book was already in its second printing after only a few weeks and had topped bestseller lists worldwide. She and Peter had been in constant contact over the past year, and three days ago, he had texted to say there were nibbles about a movie deal, as well as discussions about a Broadway musical based on Scarlett’s life—using her music, of course.
Gwen logged on to her computer and went through her email inbox. It was overflowing with unread messages. Many were from tour group operators asking for additional dates because of the sudden increase in demand for visits to the museum. Tourists were flying to Nova Scotia in droves, coming from across the world to see the house where Scarlett Fontaine had been born and raised.
Gwen took a sip of green tea and opened her scheduling app. With any luck, she’d get through all these messages and have every extra tour date confirmed by noon. That would leave her time for a break before job interviews that afternoon. She was hiring two additional full-time guides to start right away because the tour schedule was pure pandemonium, especially when a cruise ship docked in Halifax. Thankfully, today wasn’t one of those days, so there was some semblance of sanity out there among the displays.
Around eleven o’clock, a knock sounded at Gwen’s office door.
“Come in.” Determined to finish an email, Gwen kept her eyes on her fingers, clicking across the keyboard, as the person walked in. She wrote one last sentence, rolled her chair to the center of her desk, and looked up.
Before her stood an older man she hadn’t seen in many years: Mr.Thornby, her beloved music teacher from high school. Now retired, he still taught private piano lessons in the community. Gwenoccasionally thought about giving him a call, because it was never too late to start a new hobby.
She smiled with delight and stood. “Mr.Thornby. How nice to see you.” She moved around the desk and gave him a hug.
“It’s good to see you too,” he replied with a warmth that made everything seem right with the world.
Gwen drew back and took in his appearance. He had gained a few pounds over the years, and his hair was gray and thinning. Nevertheless, he looked youthful in loose-fitting blue jeans, a black fleece jacket, and a backpack slung over one shoulder.
“Have a seat.” She gestured toward the wing chair that faced her desk and returned to her own chair.
“I thought it was time I paid you a visit,” he said sheepishly.
She quirked an eyebrow. “Why is that?”
“Well ...” His gaze roamed around her office, up to the ceiling, and down the wall of bookcases. “When your family opened the museum years ago, I thought about coming in and sharing what I knew about Valerie, but I felt it best to stay quiet. But I just read the book.”
Gwen sat forward, her senses tingling with curiosity. “You knew Valerie?”
“I did. I knew her very well.”
Gwen blinked a few times as her mind took hold of what was happening here. She slumped back in her chair and covered her mouth with her hand.
Mr.Thornby. Mr.Andrew Thornby.
A shallow breath escaped her, and she began to feel a surge of mental clarity—the kind of satisfaction that comes from seeing the whole story at last. She felt awe at the sight of him.
“Are you ... are you Drew?”
He nodded, and Gwen sat in shock and amazement, barely able to form words.
