Two days later, I was surprised to find Jack waiting for me in the kitchen when I came down for breakfast. He was freshly shaven and wearing a clean shirt, his hair still damp on the ends from a recent shower. My heart did its usual thump upon my seeing him, then settled quickly when I thought about what his reason for being there might be. Either someone had ratted on me about the hidden doughnuts, or there was something else he needed to discuss.
“Good morning, Mellie,” he said, raising an eyebrow Rhett Butler–like as he sipped from his Best Daddy in the World mug decorated with tiny thumbprints.
“Good morning.” I went to open the cabinet, but Jack held up my steaming mug.
“Fixed the way you like it. More sugar than salt in the Dead Sea and more cream than coffee.”
“Perfect,” I said, smiling as I took the mug. “Feeling better?”
He suspended his mug halfway to his mouth. “I wasn’t aware that I was ill.”
“You haven’t been . . . yourself. This book seems to be taking a little more out of you than usual.”
He took a long sip of coffee, his eyes never leaving my face. “Really?” He placed his mug on the counter and crossed his arms, looking at me with an expression I didn’t recognize. “Have you been in my room when I’m not there?”
I almost spit out my coffee. “Absolutely not! Except for that one time when you went out at night and I was worried about you, I haven’t been inside. I haven’t been invited.”
His eyes brightened.
“I mean, to talk. Or sit. Not to lie down. Or . . .” I made an incomprehensible movement with my hand, making the coffee slosh perilously close to the rim. “What I mean is, no, I haven’t. Mrs. Houlihan has been in there to change the sheets and vacuum, but that’s always when you’re there. Why do you ask?”
“Because someone has been fiddling with the lock. I used the old Boy Scout method of paper in the keyhole, and it had been knocked on the floor. They didn’t get in, though. The paper I’d placed between the door and doorframe was still there. But someone did try.”
“Very sophisticated.”
“Thank you.” He relaxed against the counter. “I think it was Marc. He’s still looking for that diamond. Jonathan Goldsmith has been very vocal lately online. Asking questions about legal ownership of lost treasures. I’m positive he thinks the legendary diamond is not only real, but in our house, and he’s trying to avoid what happened with the rubies when they were found on property belonging to us.”
“If we can prove it was him trying to sneak into your room, he’s in breach of contract and we can throw him out now.” I looked at Jack carefully. “But only if you want to. We know there’s no diamond to find, so he’ll still be strapped for cash and need our financial help. Which means he’ll be contractually bound to help you. I know it’s important to you. To us.”
I held my breath. Everything I’d said was true. But I couldn’t help but hope that his answer was no. Because if we stopped the filming, Jack wouldn’t have a reason for staying in the house. We’d made little progress toward mending our marriage, other than the fact that we were now on speaking terms, but at least with both of us under the same roof, we stood a greater chance of making it happen.
Jack surprised me with a grin. “Oh, I think I’m having too much fun with this. The filming is annoying, but Harvey is paying us as promised, and I think we’re sort of used to the mayhem at this point. They’re way behind schedule, and I’m enjoying watching Marc self-implode. That alone makes up for a lot of the inconvenience. Assuming you’re okay with that?”
I nodded, then took a long sip from my mug to hide just how okay I was.
The kitchen door opened and Jayne came in, holding the twins, who were dressed in sweaters and hats, ready for outside. Their sweaters and their hats didn’t match each other’s and I chewed on my lip so I wouldn’t say anything even though I distinctly remembered laying out their outfits that morning after I’d taken them out of their cribs.
“We’re ready for GiGi’s house!” Jayne bounced the twins in her arms.
Sarah clapped her hands while JJ waved his whisk. Jayne put the children down and of course they both ran to Jack. I convinced myself it was because they’d already seen me.
Jack bent down to lift both children, loudly smooching their cheeks. “Great, we can drop them off on our way.”
“Our way?” I asked.
“To Magnolia Cemetery. Jayne mentioned your plans to visit while we were attempting to have a civilized lunch in the kitchen with the twins yesterday. I figured I’d tag along if that’s all right.”
“Of course it is. But are you sure?” I asked slowly, certain we were all remembering the last time the three of us had been in a cemetery together.
“I am. I need to do this. Isn’t that the best way to face our fears—stare at them head-on? Besides, I can pretend that you need me to be there. It will be good for my ego.” His voice held a forced lightness.
“Yeah,” Jayne agreed. “But maybe you should ease your way into it? Going to another cemetery with the two of us might not be the best way to reacclimate yourself.”
“At least it’s not at night,” Jack said, looking at me. “And I’ve loaded my iTunes library with marching band music, so you don’t have to hum. Nola said you were asked to leave the Gibbes.”
“I wasn’t asked to leave,” I said smugly. “I left before they had the chance.”
Both Jayne and Jack looked at me blankly.
“So,” I said, heading for the door, “let’s get this over with. It’s supposed to rain later and the only thing I dislike as much as a cemetery at night is a cemetery in the rain.”
The kitchen door burst open and Marc Longo entered, his reddened face sweating profusely. He held up his hand and I noticed his previously manicured fingernails were now bitten to the quick. “I have had enough of you.” He pointed an accusatory finger in my direction.
JJ used that moment for a loud and malodorous passing of gas, making him giggle. Just the sight of Marc had a similar effect on the children as the sound of running water did on most people with full bladders. It was as funny as it was appreciated by everyone except Marc.