She’d made it to the porch steps when her purse slipped around and knocked into the hand holding the two suitcases. Her fingers flexed as pain shot through her knuckles, and the bags broke free, rolling down the driveway. She tried to chase after them, while still holding the other suitcase and overnight bag, but the wheel of the big suitcase caught on a small rock and overturned, sending the bag flying into the yard.
Georgie heard a crash and turned just in time to see one of the smaller suitcases get smashed under the wheel of a large Buick that looked like it came straight out of a ’70s police show. The other was nowhere to be seen. At least one of them had made it.
The car tried to back up, but the tire was stuck on the suitcase. It rocked back and forth, trying to work itself free.
“Georgie?” she heard River call out behind her. She was surprised at the panic in his voice. “Are you okay?” he asked as he stopped beside her.
She ignored the flutters in her stomach when she saw him. “I’m okay, but my suitcases…” she cried out in dismay. “I lost two of them. One of them is under that car, but I don’t know where the other one is.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll find it,” he said. She presumed he was trying to sound reassuring, but he hadn’t quite hit the mark. Not that she blamed him. The bag under the tire was nearly completely smashed flat. No coming back from that.
That was the bag holding her cosmetics, her blow drier, and curling iron.
The car’s engine revved and the vehicle finally broke free, shooting backward. A loud crashing sound filled the air. The smashed suitcase had been freed, but the car appeared stuck again.
“I think we found your other bag,” River said with a grimace, sneaking a glance at her.
They walked down the driveway together, their view of the mess partially obscured by a car in the street, but when they reached the edge of the driveway, Georgie gasped. Underwear and bras were lying on the street, on the parked cars, on the side of the road. A blue bra hung from a tree branch on the side of the road.
Josie got out of the car and stared at the mess with a look of wonder. A breeze kicked in and a silky pair of black panties blew up off the road and hit Josie smack in the face. She peeled it away, beaming as though she’d just won the lottery. “When my horoscope said good fortune would rain on me today, I never suspected it would be underwear.”
Georgie stared at her in shocked silence. Every piece of lingerie she owned—other than what she was wearing—was scattered all over Flint Street. In front of River.
“I know this is bad,” River said in a calm voice. “I’m sure not everything is ruined.”
Josie left her car door open and squealed as she started picking up clothing off the bushes. “It’s like an Easter egg hunt!”
Georgie looked up at River. “Josie was invited to the séance.”
It wasn’t a question since the answer was so obvious.
Hesitation filled his eyes. “Aunt Dottie said she and Lurch had unfinished business with Beau.”
“Lurch is here too.” She shook her head as her gaze shifted back to Josie, who was looping her arms through Georgie’s panties like they were bracelets. “Of course he is.”
“Georgie…”
“Is there alcohol at this séance?” she asked. “Because I need lots and lots of alcohol.”
River turned to stare at Josie, then back to Georgie. “Well, there’s beer, of course, and my aunt’s elderberry wine.” He hesitated, then added, “And she said she was making punch.”
“Punch?”
“Pineapple and orange juice, champagne, and beer.” He hesitated again. “Fair warning… Aunt Dottie’s calling it Lurch’s Pee Brew.”
Georgie stared up at him and the absurdity of it all hit her head-on. She began to laugh, breaking out into hysterical giggles that put a stitch in her side.
River watched her first in horror, then in concern, and then finally his mouth twisted into an amused grin.
“I won!” Josie exclaimed, waving both arms—one lined with panties and the other with bras.
Georgie stopped laughing.
River’s smile fell. “I’ll deal with this, Georgie. You go on inside.”
She didn’t respond, just headed for the front door, leaving her other suitcase and overnight bag in the yard. They weren’t going anywhere…unless Josie decided to plow through the yard with that monster car of hers.
Georgie had no idea what to expect when she walked through the door, but nothing could have prepared her for the sideshow in front of her.
“I need some of Lurch’s Pee Brew,” she called out on the way to the dining room. “Stat.”
Chapter Twenty
It had been no more than forty-eight hours since River had last seen Georgie, but what a forty-eight hours. Since sending him an invitation to the séance, Aunt Dottie had followed up with no less than thirty texts asking him to do various tasks in preparation. A few of them had seemed to have no obvious connection to the event, and he feared the moment when their usefulness would come into clarity. In between brainstorming recipes for the rest of the Buchanan beers, he’d done his aunt’s errands, all of them, because even if she was a little, well, dotty, he loved her with all that he was and she was mourning in her own way.
The first and easiest of the tasks had been to set up the video conferencing. Apparently she did not, in fact, know how to do that and had been relying on him to make the arrangements. Maisie had a big flat-screen computer she’d donated to the cause, large enough for all of the Buchanans to take part. Maisie had gotten an invitation too—because apparently his aunt had been feeling pretty free with them—but she’d declined. The way she’d done it, averting her eyes, had made River wonder if it was because of the awkward moment they’d had on Friday night. He’d tried to encourage her to come anyway, but he hadn’t tried too hard, truth be known. And not just because she’d agreed to puppysit for Hops to ensure he didn’t destroy the entire apartment.
Truth was, he was hoping for a chance to talk to Georgie. Privately. In the midst of what was sure to be a madhouse.
Scratch that, it was already a madhouse. Georgie’s plastic suitcases had broken open like piñatas, and some of the sexiest yet classiest lingerie he’d ever seen was strung on Josie’s arms.
Good God. Why couldn’t he have seen them on Georgie instead?
Although he’d barely had a free minute to breathe all weekend, he’d found himself remembering the feel of her every night.
“It’s a sign, River,” Josie said confidently once Georgie disappeared inside the house.
“That you need a new car?” he murmured, his eyes lingering on the door. “Any one of us could have told you that.”
“No, I mean it’s a sign Beau changed his mind.” He turned to her in annoyance, and she gave him a serious look through her oversized glasses.
“Is this because they fired you?”
She tilted her chin up, as if to say she wouldn’t deign to respond to his question. The gesture drew attention to her hat.
“Are you wearing a witch’s hat?” he asked in disbelief. It was mostly a normal size, but it came to a slight point, marked by a sequined star.