While River talked to a firefighter, Dottie stood in the front yard, staring up at the house in dismay. Several people had gathered around the house, although they hung back at a slight distance. A small group of them surrounded Josie, who was talking with a lot of hand gestures. Sighing, Georgie went over to check on Dottie. “Are you okay? Are you sure we shouldn’t have the ambulance crew check you over too?”
“I’m fine,” the older woman said, more subdued than Georgie had ever heard her. “But now I’ll never get to talk to Beau.”
Shame washed through Georgie. While she had seen the séance as a joke and an inconvenience, she realized this whole thing had been orchestrated by a woman who had lost the love of her life. If she’d had a marriage license or wedding ring, she would have been seen as Beau’s widow, and as such, granted more respect and sympathy. But from what she’d gathered, Dottie and Beau had been together for decades. She might not have the legal status of widow, but Dottie’s pain ran just as deep as if they’d been married.
“That’s not true,” Georgie said softly as she slipped her hand into the older woman’s. “You can talk to Beau any time you like.”
“But he won’t talk back.” Her voice quavered with tears.
Georgie turned to face her. “Oh, Dottie. From what I can see, Beau’s voice is everywhere. It’s in the brewery. In his house. It’s in River. And it’s in you. He’s here. You just have to search a little bit for him.”
The older woman nodded, a tear escaping and running down her cheek.
Georgie grabbed her other hand and turned the woman to face her. “You lost someone very dear to you. Perhaps you should take some time off to grieve.”
Her face fell. “You’re firing me.”
Georgie squeezed her hands. “No! I most definitely am not. I need you.” And to Georgie’s surprise she meant it, and not because the will had stated she couldn’t be fired. “Just like I need River. I can’t do this without either of you.”
“But I just nearly burned down your house,” Dottie said, her gaze darting to the house.
“Nearly. Which means you didn’t. The house isn’t important, Dottie. What matters is that everyone is safe. That you’re safe. I’m sure Grandpa Beau would have hated it if you’d gotten hurt trying to talk to him. You have River. And now you have me. We’ll get through this. I promise.”
“Oh, Georgie.” Dottie threw her arms around Georgie and held tight. “I wasn’t so sure at first, but everything’s unfolding the way it was supposed to. Beau knew what he was doing when he picked you.”
Georgie’s body stiffened. Had Dottie known that River was supposed to get the brewery? Before she could ask any questions, the older woman dropped her hold and walked away.
Chapter Twenty-Two
For a moment there, holding Georgie’s hand in the séance circle, River had felt pretty good about what the future might hold for them—and he’d gotten the impression she felt pretty good about it too, complications aside. And then his aunt had set her house on fire.
How did you even apologize to someone for that? He would insist on paying for the repairs (even if it wiped him out), but that didn’t seem like enough. And nothing could atone for that disaster of a crystal-selection ceremony.
He’d failed Georgie, and Aunt Dottie too. He should have put a stop to the séance back at the idea stage, before everything had spiraled out of control. But he’d gone along with it, in the way he went along with most of his aunt’s crazy plans, because he’d thought it would make her happy. Because he didn’t know how to talk to people who were grieving, even when he was too. But he’d made a mess of everything.
His aunt wasn’t happy.
One glance at her, talking to Georgie, was enough to tell him that. She looked like Beau had just died all over again. And then Georgie took his aunt into her arms, and something in him loosened.
“I’m sorry about the pictures,” the firefighter said. “He’s erased them, of course, and we’ll make him do a hundred push-ups back at the station.”
River had witnessed one of the guys taking phone pictures of the pink crystal dick, sadly disconnected from its statue. In her haste to get him out of the house, Georgie had unwittingly used it to prop open the front door.
“It’s fine,” he said. “I get it. Do you have any recommendations for local companies to clean up this mess?” Although, it occurred to him that they could use the same people who’d taken care of the brewery.
God, it would be a miracle if Georgie didn’t sell the company just to get away from them all.
The firefighter gave him a couple of cards and told him they’d be wrapping up soon. River glanced back at Georgie and saw his aunt walking away from her. He needed to talk to Georgie—hopefully he’d open his mouth and suddenly know what to say—but not before he made sure his aunt was okay.
He hurried after her, calling, “Aunt Dottie, wait!” and she turned to face him just as she reached Josie’s boat of a car.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “I don’t want you to be alone tonight. Will you stay in my spare bedroom?”
“No, dear,” she said, reaching up to cup his cheek. “There’s no need for that. Josie is coming to stay with me tonight. I’m a little too shaken to drive, but she’s agreed to chauffeur me as well.”
“We’re going to meditate about what happened tonight,” Josie said brightly, joining them. She’d been talking to a circle of people by the front yard, and from the looks on their faces, she’d told them enough that he wouldn’t be surprised to see an article about it in the local papers.
Meditation wasn’t dangerous, was it? Of course, he hadn’t thought a séance was dangerous either.
“No old extension cords or open fire, okay?” he said to his aunt. “And absolutely no mind-altering substances.” This time he leveled a look at Josie. She had an edibles habit, and on one memorable occasion, she’d sat cross-legged on the bar at Buchanan Brewery and declared herself a fortune-teller—only she’d cursed the love lives of anyone adventurous enough to ask for a reading.
“If you’re attuned enough to the world around you, anything can be a mind-altering substance,” Josie said airily.
“Oh, you know what I mean.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but Aunt Dottie cut her off. “Josie, go ahead and get in the car,” she said. “I want a word with my nephew.”
Surprisingly enough, Josie complied.
“I’m sorry things went down like that,” he said, “but Aunt Dottie, you really freaked me out in there.” He toed the grass a little with his shoe, and flinched when he saw an incredibly sexy green lace thong that had blended in with the grass. Stooping a little, he grabbed it and pocketed it. “I need to know you’re going to be okay,” he continued. He had to grit the words out past his vulnerability, but he forced himself to say it. Because he loved her. Because he couldn’t lose her too. Because she wouldn’t turn that vulnerability back on him like his mother might have. “Even though Beau’s not here anymore, there are people who need you. I need you. And everyone who came here tonight did it as much for you as for Beau.”