Don't Scream. Wendy Corsi Staub
to meet you. So is Fiona here?”
“I’m not supposed to disturb her unless it’s an emergency.”
“Is she alone in there?”
Emily nods. “But—”
Brynn starts for Fee’s closed door.
“No, wait—”
“It’s okay,” Brynn tells her, as she reaches for the knob with the hand that isn’t wrapped around Jeremy. “You’re not disturbing her. I am.”
Settling into a booth in the Cedar Crest Coffee Shop on the northern end of Main Street, Isaac Halpern accepts the laminated menu from a pretty student waitress. She blatantly checks him out.
With his traditional good looks—clean-cut dark hair and blue eyes, a strong, but not too strong, nose, and a tall frame that’s both lean and muscular—he does get his share of attention from women.
Especially back home in Manhattan, where straight, single, successful men are as valuable a commodity as rent-controlled real estate.
“Know what you want?” the waitress asks with a toss of her long black hair.
“I haven’t even looked at the menu yet.”
She shrugs. “Most people already know.”
“Just give me a minute, okay?” he asks, and she drifts away.
The menu is stained with brownish splashes and there is a grain of dried rice plastered to the laminate. Terrific.
Holding it gingerly, Isaac scans the lengthy list of offerings beneath the heading:
Breakfast Served 24 Hours
Eggs, omelets, French Toast, pancakes, bagels, cereal, fruit, sides of anything you can imagine…
Pretty much the same menu as in any diner back in New York, but at less than half the price for everything. Pretty much the same setup, too—long counter along one wall, a row of booths along the other. Most of those are empty, and only a few of the stools at the counter are occupied.
But this is a college town; this place is ten times busier at two in the morning after the bars close than it is now.
Just a stone’s throw from here is the Zeta Delta Kappa house, its gray shingles freshly painted this semester with red trim. Those are the official sorority colors, the red representing the sorority mascot, which is the cardinal.
Why a cardinal? Isaac asked Rachel once, when she was poring over her secret sorority notebook, cramming for the pledge quiz. Why not something more exotic, like a pink flamingo, or a peacock?
Because cardinals stand out more than anything else, and they’re cheerful, and they’re everywhere, she replied with her usual Rachel decisiveness. When was the last time you looked out the window and saw a pink flamingo? There’s nothing better than spotting a beautiful, cheerful splotch of red in the trees on a gray winter morning.
There hasn’t been a gray winter morning since she said it that Isaac hasn’t searched—to no avail—for a cardinal.
“Did you decide?”
He looks up. The waitress is back already, pad poised, hair still hanging around her face. Shouldn’t she be wearing a hairnet, or a ponytail, or something? That she isn’t doesn’t bode well for the cuisine.
Yeah, he should tell her he changed his mind and get out of here.
Instead, he hears himself say, “I’ll just have a Western Omelet and whole-grain toast. And coffee.”
He isn’t the least bit hungry, but he’s here; he should eat.
And why are you here?
Not here in the coffee shop; here in Cedar Crest.
I’m here because…
Because…
God, I shouldn’t be here. What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I keep coming back here every September?
This was a bad, impulsive idea.
Not the first in his life, though, and it surely won’t be his last.
All because of her.
Rachel.
The waitress departs. As if on cue, his cell phone begins to vibrate in the back pocket of his jeans; he hurriedly grabs it and flips it open. The number displayed in the caller ID box is a familiar one.
“Hey,” a female voice says. “It’s me.”
“Hey. How’s San Francisco?”
“Foggy. How’s New York?”
He hesitates.
“Sunny,” he says, because it was supposed to be; he caught the local weather forecast on Z100 before leaving for Massachusetts.
“Did you remember to feed Smoochy this morning?”
The cat. Damn.
“Yes,” he lies.
That tabby is so fat he can probably survive off his own body fat for weeks. Still, Isaac should have remembered to feed him. If anything happens to the cat, Kylah will be heartbroken. And furious with him. Particularly when she finds out her pet’s well-being was sacrificed for this little annual expedition to New England.
No, not when.
Not even if.
She won’t find out. She’s safely on the West Coast, he’ll be home in New York before she is, and the world’s fattest feline will be fine.
“I miss you,” she says with a sigh.
“I miss you, too. How’s the conference going?”
“You know. Same as they always go. It’s all a big blur of name tags and handouts and bad food and watered-down drinks. I can’t wait to get home tomorrow. Don’t forget—my flight gets in at six and I’m coming straight home, so…”
“I’ll be there.”
And he will. Because he can’t stay here in Cedar Crest indefinitely.
But he’ll be back again.
And again, and again…
For as long as it takes.
About to protest the abrupt intrusion, Fiona looks up from her desk to see not the hapless Emily, but Brynn, framed in the open doorway.
Her heart sinks.
She isn’t in the mood. True, she was just sitting here, craving a cigarette and brooding about the very thing Brynn is undoubtedly here to discuss, but…
But I don’t want to talk about it. Not yet. Not until I’ve decided how I’m going to approach this whole mess.
Looks like she doesn’t have a choice, though.
“Hey.” Fiona stands and feigns an affectionate smile at Jeremy, whose lower face appears to be covered in some kind of sticky sludge. Lovely. “What are you guys doing here?”
Brynn just sends her a level look and closes the door behind herself just as Emily pops up, hovering nervously and looking apologetic.
I’ve got to get rid of her, Fiona thinks wearily. I’ll fire her first chance I get…
And replace her with whom?
“Listen, we need to talk about this thing,” Brynn is saying in a low voice.
“Did you get ahold of them?” Fiona asks.
Of course Brynn knows who she’s talking about. Cassie and Tildy.
“No, I couldn’t.” She sinks onto the visitor’s chair beside the desk with Jeremy on her lap.
“Did