She picked up the wine Sonya set in front of her. “I came in.”

  “I don’t think of myself as a coward.” Anna considered as she sipped her drink. “But I don’t think I’d have done that.”

  “She would.”

  “And did. And the house sang ‘Welcome Back.’ Or I should say Clover played me in.”

  “Clover?”

  “You haven’t filled her in?”

  “I guess not.”

  “Then over to you for that.”

  Sonya picked up her wine. “Let’s sit at the table.”

  She filled in some gaps.

  “And you knew that, and still came in?”

  “I think Clover and I will get along fine. We’ll see about the rest. So, I dragged the first suitcase up those awesome stairs—I love clothes.”

  “Me, too!”

  “We’ll shop. I dragged up the suitcase, and the secret door opened.”

  “And you walked in there, too?”

  “I thought about it for a second, since I heard those bells? The call bells downstairs?”

  “I remember those, sure. They were actually ringing?”

  “One was. I started down, and the door slammed behind me.”

  Shaking back her hair, she lifted her glass.

  “I admit, without shame, that scared the shit out of me. But the lights came on when I found the switch, so that was better. When I got down there, the bell for the Gold Room’s banging, doors are slamming. The TV in the media room came on, top volume. A lot of screaming seeing as it came on with the latest Halloween movie.

  “I love Jamie Lee Curtis.”

  “Jesus, Cleo.”

  With a shrug, Cleo topped off her wine. “I wasn’t what you’d call sanguine about it at the time. Then everything stopped. The slamming, the banging, the screaming. And I felt this cold, a whoosh of it. Did you see my hair when I came out? It blew right through it.

  “Then you texted. So either Grand-mère’s charm or you coming home, or both, shut her off.”

  “I wish I could have some wine,” Anna murmured.

  “I dedicate this glass to you and your adorable baby bump. I’m going to white sage down there,” Cleo decided. “I don’t think that’s nearly enough, but I’ll do it anyway.” Already at home, she put her feet up on the empty chair, turned to Anna. “So how many weeks along are you?”

  “Almost twenty.”

  “Halfway.” Cleo lifted her glass in toast. “Do you know the variety?”

  With a laugh, Anna patted her baby belly. “We just found out yesterday. Think pink!”

  As easy as that, Sonya thought, they transitioned from hauntings to babies. Engaging others stood as one of Cleo’s top skills.

  “Who runs the world?” Cleo sang. “Got a name?”

  “The middle name’s easy. My mother-in-law’s first name and my mom’s middle is Kate. For the first name, we’ve got our list down to, oh, about a dozen. We’re hoping to tighten that up before she starts preschool. But now that we know, decorating the nursery’s top of the list.

  “And since I happen to know an artist or two, I may hit them up for advice.”

  “I’m there!”

  Now Sonya laughed. “Cleo’s a baby magnet, or babies are a magnet for Cleo. Was helping with nursery decor what you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “Oh no, that one just came to me. It was some other things. One was about work. They can wait.”

  “Now’s fine. Did you want something changed on the website?”

  “Not a change. Bay Arts is having their May Day open house in a few weeks, and I’m one of the featured artists. I wondered if we could do something to promote it on my site.”

  “Not only could but should.” Sonya took out her phone to take notes. “Dates, times?”

  “Second weekend in May, ten to eight on Saturday, noon to six on Sunday.”

  “It’s annual?”

  “They do a weekend every year, second weekend in May, and for the holidays, the second weekend in December. Featured artists, some demonstrations, specials, refreshments, door prizes.”

  Nodding, Sonya got it all down. “They’ll do their own promotions, flyers, but we can do a flash on your social media. Do they include online sales?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Okay, we’ll do a card to include in the sales off your site, hyping it up.”

  “That’s good. I wouldn’t have thought of that.”

  “That’s my job. I can send you some options tomorrow.”

  She set her phone aside. “What else is on your mind?”

  “The other was … well, it’s personal.”

  “I’ll just go haul another suitcase upstairs.”

  “No, don’t leave,” Anna said as Cleo started to get up. “It’s clear the two of you are close, so you’d know Sonya and Trey are seeing each other.”

  Cautious, Sonya trailed a finger around the rim of her glass. “He told you.”

  “No, and he wouldn’t unless I asked directly. But you’ve had dinners together at the Lobster Cage, and he’s made the turn on Manor Road several times lately.”

  She smiled, shrugged. “News doesn’t travel in Poole’s Bay. It sprints.”

  “Do you have a problem with Trey and me?”

  “Oh God, no.” In a pushback gesture, Anna lifted her hands. “The opposite. Polar opposite. I love my brother, even when I want to kick him in the balls. He’s so damn reasonable. You can’t win a fight against his unwavering reasonable. It’s frustrating. But I love him anyway.”

  “Reasonable,” Sonya agreed. “And the calm. The absolute calm. It’s both annoying and admirable. It’s annoyingly admirable.”

  “There, see? You get him.”

  On the table, Sonya’s phone sang out: “Whatta Man.”

  Easing back, Anna crossed her arms over her baby bump. “Do you ever get used to that?”

  “Somehow, you do.”

  “Not sure I would, and it makes me really miss wine. But in any case, I’m happy Trey’s with someone who gets him. I caught the carefully contained sparkage between you when we all had dinner, but I’m surprised he moved on that before Christmas.”

  “I might have nudged the timetable up a bit.”

  “And again, there.” Reaching over, she squeezed Sonya’s hand. “It’s not as if either of you need my approval, but you’ve got it anyway. And I have to go. I didn’t intend to stay so long.

  “This was really nice,” she added as she rose. “My best friend moved to Montana last summer. I miss her even more than wine, margaritas, and a second cup of coffee.”

  “Is she looking for a cowboy?” Cleo wondered as they walked to the door.

  “In Lena’s case that would be a cowgirl. Since she’s working on a ranch—childhood dream—I bet she finds one.”

  “Come back,” Sonya told her. “You don’t need a reason.”

  “I will.” Carole King’s “You’ve Got a Friend” played from the tablet in the library. “Despite that. Welcome to Poole’s Bay and Lost Bride Manor, Cleo.”

  After Anna walked to her car, Sonya shut the door. “And here we are.”

  With a “Woo!” Cleo threw her arms around her friend. “I’m officially living in a haunted house. Talk about living the dream.”

  “I say it’s not official until you’re unpacked.”

  “Then let’s get to it.”

  Sonya took the weekender and one of the boxes while Cleo dragged the second big suitcase.

  “Considering your wardrobe, I realized the closet in your room—You still want the same room?”

  “It’s my room. The box goes up to the studio. Just set it down there.”

  “Not enough closet space in your room, so I thought you could use the one in the room across the hall for spillover. Maybe separate by occasion or season.”

  “You have the best ideas. I’ll start with the occasion system. It’s not like I’m going to wear a lot of date night and cocktail wear, at least for a while.

  “And here’s my room! My wonderful room.”

  “Actually, Trey has a friend, a drummer with a band. He used to play with Trey and Owen’s band.”

  “What? Wait. Trey had a band?”

  “Did I forget to tell you?” Together they muscled the first suitcase onto the luggage rack Sonya found in a closet. “I’m so glad you’re here so I won’t forget to tell you everything. High school, garage band, but Manny kept up with it.”

  “Are you fixing me up with a drummer in a rock band before I’ve even unpacked? You are the goddess of friends.”

  “I want that title, but no. Manny and Trey’s ex—I told you about her.”

  “The chef.”

  “Right. They’ve started a thing. So Rock Hard’s playing in Ogunquit next week.”

  “Rock Hard’s the band name? I’m even sorrier I won’t have a shot at Manny.”

  “Bree—the chef—is going next Monday, and wanted us to go. Could be fun.”

  “Should be fun,” Cleo agreed as she opened her suitcase. “But I’m not fifth-wheeling it with you and Trey.”

  “Trey said Owen would probably go, and we’d make it a group thing. And Yoda would have a chance to hang out with Mookie at Trey’s parents’.”

  Cleo looked down at Yoda as she started sorting clothes. “Now you’re using that sweet dog. Okay, if everyone’s in, I’m in.”

  “Excellent. You know, I’m not sure two closets are going to work.”

  “I’ll make it work.”

  They gave the first round of unpacking an hour before going down to feed the dog and toss a frozen pizza in the oven.

  “Tomorrow, I start cooking dinner. And anytime Trey wants to join, just let me know. Same with anytime the two of you want to go out to eat.”

  When they let Yoda in after his post-dinner outing, Cleo looked around the kitchen, nodded. “This is all good. I have a plan. Let’s give the Great Unpacking another half hour—that’ll be official enough if we don’t get it completely done. Then we could haul the stuff up to my studio. I’ll set that up in the morning.”

  “I like your plan.”

  They carried the last of the studio boxes to the second floor and, setting them down, turned toward the bedrooms.

  “A major step up from the apartment we rented our senior year.”

  “With the tiniest shower in the history of showers,” Sonya remembered, with the fondness of distance. “And the tub drain that actually went glug-glug-glug.”

  “Good times.”

  They walked into Cleo’s bedroom. No clothes lay on the neatly turned-down bed. No suitcases sat on the floor.

  “Okay, wow. Yeah, some getting used to.” Cleo opened the closet. “There’s not only more hanging in here, it’s organized by type and color.”

  “She does that with mine, too. It has to be a she.”

  Nodding, Cleo walked to her dresser, checked drawers. Nodded again and moved into the bathroom.

  “Shampoo, conditioner, shower gel, my poof, all there. Skin care in the top left vanity drawer,” she noted. “High octane skin care below. Makeup on the right, organized by category, and hair stuff in the middle cabinet. Efficient.”

  She stepped back. “I appreciate this, very much.” Then turned to Sonya. “I’m going to check the other closet.”

  In the second bedroom closet, the suitcases were stacked on the floor under the clothes.

  “I think she likes being useful,” Sonya said. “And yeah, has to be a she.”

  “I wish we knew her name.”

  “So do I. I think she must have been a servant. I started to make one up for her, but that seems wrong.”

  Her phone jumped out with Little Richard’s classic “Good Golly Miss Molly.”

  “Molly!” they said together.

  “You know what else that means?” Cleo said.

  “They know each other. Clover either knew Molly when they were alive or…”

  “They got acquainted after. Thank you, Molly, for saving me so much time. I don’t see my spring and fall jackets in here.”

  “I bet we find them in the coat closet downstairs. Efficient. She—Molly—does like to play with things. Perfume, pretty things.”

  “She can play with mine all she wants. Are you up for carrying the rest to the studio?”

  “That’s the plan, and Molly saved us half an hour.”

  They carted the first load up. The minute she stepped into the studio, Cleo set her box on the desk, did a turn.

  “Oh God! I love this space. It’s absolutely perfect. Look, the moon’s up, over the water.”

  From the Gold Room came the pounding.

  “Oh, fuck off,” Cleo snapped. “You can’t spoil this for me.”

  After setting her box beside Cleo’s, Sonya looked around. “It is perfect, and the view slays, but are you sure you’ll be all right up here?”

  “Bet your ass. I’m going to get the last box.”

  “Trey put what you sent with Mom marked for the studio in the closet. What the hell was in that big box? It weighed a ton.”

  “Mostly canvases and paints, more tools. I’m going to take time between jobs—and make more time between jobs—to paint. For me. Be right back.”

  When Cleo dashed off, Sonya did her own turn. The pounding lowered to a few angry slams.

  She had to admit, it already felt like Cleo. She walked to the closet to drag out the big box.

  And saw the painting propped on top of it.

  The bride wore a ring of flowers over straight blond hair that rained past her shoulders. Her simple white dress fell to the ankles of bare, narrow feet. Its empire waist circled below full, high breasts. Between, the dress covered the dome of belly.

  She carried a nosegay in her right hand and wore a gold band with two entwined hearts on the third finger of her left.

  She’d seen pictures. If she hadn’t, with the loving details of the portrait, she’d have recognized Clover. Her father’s birth mother.

  She’d passed the shape of her nose, the wide bow of her mouth to her son. And so to her granddaughter.

  Emotion, unexpected and poignant, flooded through her.

  “The last and final,” Cleo said as she came in. “So it’s officially official— What is it?”

  Sonya just pointed.

  When she joined her, Cleo put a hand on Sonya’s shoulder. “I’m going to take a wild guess. That wasn’t there before.”

  “No. The closet was empty when Trey put your supplies in there. It’s Clover. It’s my father’s birth mother. And, Cleo, my father painted this. I know his work, and if I didn’t, there’s his signature.”

  Reaching up, she laid her hand over Cleo’s. “How did he paint her—the woman who died giving birth to him? How did it get here, in the manor? Did he dream of her, the way he did the manor, the mirror, his brother? I think that must be it.”

  “You should take a picture of it, send it to Winter, ask if she’s seen it. Either way, I’m betting you’re right about the dreams. And a twin thing again?”

  “Like the painting of the manor. Collin saw it somewhere, somehow, bought it.”

  “It follows, doesn’t it?”

  “I need to sit a minute.”

  When she did, on the floor, Yoda crawled into her lap, and Cleo crouched down.

  “I’ll get you some water.”

  “No, I’m okay. Just wobbly for a minute. It just fills me, and hollows me out at the same time. Dad painted her; Collin brought her here. They connected.”

  “Now you have her, and that connects you. Sonya, it’s beautiful work. She’s … well, she’s adorable. We should take her downstairs. Nobody puts Clover in the closet.”

  With one hand stroking Yoda, Sonya leaned her head toward Cleo. “You’re right. We’ll take her to the music room, with Johanna.”

  “I’ve got her. I vote we take her down, you get that picture, send that text, and I get us both a last glass of wine.”

  “I say aye to that.”

  In the music room, they propped the painting against the wall under Johanna’s portrait.

  “I love the still lifes in here,” Cleo began. “But what do you say we switch that one out, hang her there?”

  “Yes. She’d have come right before Johanna.”

  “Text your mom. I’ll get the wine. Then we’ll put her where she belongs.”

  Stepping back, Sonya studied the portrait again. So, so young, she thought. And that young face simply glowed with happiness. And despite the mound of belly, an innocence that touched her heart.

  She took a careful photo, then sent the text.

  I found this portrait. It’s Dad’s work. Have you seen it before?

  The answer came in under a minute.

  No. That’s his birth mother? I can see him in her face. Is Cleo there? Is everything all right?

  Yes, it’s Clover. Cleo’s right here, and everything’s fine. We spent most of the evening hauling up her half ton of suitcases and unpacking her massive wardrobe. But when we found this, we thought we should ask. I think Dad must have dreamed her, and painted her. As a bride.

  He often painted his dreams. She’s lovely, and there’s a sweetness. She looks kind.

  Yes, she does. I know she was and is kind, so don’t worry. Cleo and I are going to have a glass of wine, then go to bed. We’re all good here.

  Stay that way. Love to Cleo, love to you. Night.

  After signing off with a heart emoji, she turned as Cleo came back into the room.

  “She never saw it before.”

  “You know, he might have painted it before they were married. Or he just had his reasons for not showing her. Let’s put her up, Sonya, then have this wine.”

  They switched out the paintings, then stood back, arms around each other’s waists.

  “She looks right there.”

  “She does. And you know, Son, your father’s in there, too. Your dad and his brother are in that painting. It’s very special.”

  In her pocket, Sonya’s phone played “Mother and Child Reunion.”

  With a laugh, Cleo picked up the wine, handed Sonya hers, and clinked her glass to it. “To Clover, the music master.”

  “Absolutely to Clover.”