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“Of course.” I snorted. Classic Connor response. “Thanks for telling me what happened. I think it would be better if we didn’t talk for a while. Please tell your family Merry Christmas from me.”
“Fine. Whatever. Merry Christmas, I guess.”
“Bye, Connor.”
“Yeah.” He frowned. “Later.”
I clicked the button to end the call, and Connor’s face disappeared from my screen. I shut my laptop and tossed it onto the bed next to me. Then I buried my face in my hands, which were still holding on to my new hat like a security blanket. The rough wool scratched at my cheeks but absorbed my tears.
I sat like that for a while, not entirely sure why I was crying. Ever since I’d reported my boss to HR, I’d been dealing with people suggesting I’d misunderstood or was making a big deal about nothing. When I told Connor what had been happening, he insisted that my boss had just been joking, and I just didn’t understand his humor. I’d broken up with Connor. I’d quit when it became clear HR wasn’t going to do anything. I’d tried to put all this behind me. The last thing I wanted was for this drama to follow me to England.
“Eve? Are you up here, dear?” Aunt Vivian knocked on my door.
“In here.” I wiped my eyes and tried to rub the dried tears off my face.
The door swung open, and Aunt Vivian stopped inside my room. “Ah! There you are, dear! I was looking for you.”
“I was just about to come down for tea,” I said.
“Yes, well, about that… It turns out that your uncle has some faculty holiday tea that he forgot to tell me about. So, we’re on our way out. It’s a long drive, and we need to get dressed and leave soon. I’ve asked Marge to make dinner for you before she goes home. But I’m afraid you’ll be on your own this evening. I know it’s your first evening here, and I feel terrible about it. Even Liam’s gone. Oscar sent him out on some errand. And now we have to leave you by yourself. I could just strangle him for forgetting to tell me about this.”
“It’s okay, Auntie. Really. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure? You look like you’ve been crying.”
I sniffed. “Maybe a little.”
“Did you have another fight with your father?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. I’m okay.”
She sat down on the bed next to me and smoothed my hair back from my face. “I’m going to tell Oscar he can go by himself. I’m staying home with you. I’ll find us some ice cream and you can tell me everything.”
“No, Auntie.” I leaned toward her and gave her a hug. “Really. I’ll be fine. You go to the party. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. I don’t want to talk right now, anyway.”
Aunt Vivian squeezed me tight. “Well, all right, but I’m clearing my calendar for tomorrow. We can spend the whole day together. And I’m still going to make sure we have ice cream in the freezer. And chocolate. I think I have some stashed somewhere, in case of emergency, you know. I’ll leave it for you.” She leaned back and held me by my upper arms. “You’re sure?”
I nodded. “I’m sure.”
“All right, I’ll see you in the morning.” She kissed my cheek and turned to leave.
“Have fun!” I called after her.
I changed into my pajamas and splashed some cold water on my face, then stared at my reflection in the mirror. Angie had been right, of course. And she’d tell me so when I talked to her. I should have cut Connor out completely so I could have healed properly after our breakup. With Connor out of my life, no job to return home to, and Liam occupying the one job I wanted, for the first time in a long time, I had no idea what I was doing with my life. There was always grad school. I still wanted to follow in my uncle’s footsteps. That’s when I remembered what Liam had been saying about local legends.
I found my slippers, then padded down the hall, past the storage room with the gargoyle, and down the back stairs to the kitchen. Uncle Oscar’s library held probably the best collection of books on local history for miles around. I’d start there. If Liam could learn history from books, then I could, too. Maybe in the process, I could finally figure out why he was really here.
The light was on in the library when I got home, but I knew the professor and his wife had gone out for the evening. I’d hoped to return early enough that I’d have time for another search of the house before they returned. Then I remembered Evelyn. When I peeked my head into the library, I found her curled up in an armchair, fast asleep.
I crossed the room and lifted the book out of her hands, glancing at the title before marking her place and setting it on the table. One of her uncle’s books about local history. An empty wineglass. Her laptop. A crumpled foil wrapper. Fuzzy slippers and striped pajama pants. I smiled. She looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake her up, but she’d be much more comfortable in her bed.
I rested a hand on her shoulder. “Evelyn,” I whispered.
“Mmm…” She rolled her head to the side but didn’t open her eyes.
“Eve,” I tried again, a little louder this time.
Her eyes blinked open and she rubbed her hands over her face. “What time is it? I must have fallen asleep.”
