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by Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Book · Other · #1185508
continued story from blog
“Wren, thank you so much for asking us. The air is so nice tonight, just warm enough. Not much longer though,”

“Welcome, Frederick, Margot. Come this way. We’re sitting outside this evening. Once last soiree in the garden before we pack it all away for the year. Margot, you may wish you’d brought a sweater. I’ll get your drinks and be out in a moment.” She opened the French doors onto the patio and gestured toward the tables set up by the fire pit. Another couple was seated there, talking animatedly with Bernard, their faces in the shadow of the wisteria vines.

“Margot, please introduce Fred to Celia and her husband when you can get a word in edgewise.”

Margot stopped dead in the doorway. She gripped Fred’s arm and steered him back into the den. He gave her a puzzled look, but followed along. “I’ll come help you,” she said; and then quietly, “Frederick, wait here. No. Go back to my house and find me a sweater or something, would you please?”

Watching as he closed the front door behind him, she said, “Wren, I need to talk to you a minute.”

Wren was surprised by the urgency in Margot’s voice. “Sure,” she said. “Sit, and I’ll shred this cheese while you tell me what ‘s going on.” She pulled a bar stool out from under the kitchen counter, but Margot remained standing.

“What is she doing here?”

“Celia? I invited her to dinner. We hadn’t met her husband yet, but he seems to be very charming. Why should that bother you?”

“Wren, that’s Frederick’s ex-wife!”
***

“Oh my, that is a bit of a blunder, isn’t it? Are you sure?” asked Wren.

“I know his ex-wife’s name is Celia, and she’s a librarian,” said Margot.

“You don’t’ suppose it could be just a coincidence, do you? No, I guess that’s wishful thinking. Well now, what would you like me to do? I’ll be glad to make excuses for you, or whatever you want. It’s up to you.”

“I don’t know what to do! I guess I should have seen this coming. If I knew whether she knows, about Frederick and me that is, that might help.”

“How would she know that? Unless she’s still in touch with Frederick and he’s told her. If that’s the case, you don’t have anything to worry about. But I’m almost sure she doesn’t know.”

“What makes you think that?”

“She would have mentioned it by now. I’ve been out to lunch with her twice. Let me see…your name did come up sometime, but I don’t remember how or why.”

“I haven’t told you my suspicions, and I consider us good old friends. Why would she?”

“That is a point. Why haven’t you mentioned it?” Wren looked at her oddly.

“I don’t know. I just felt like keeping it quiet and watching, I guess.”

“Keeping quiet? That’ll be a first! But what have you been watching for?”

“I’m not sure, but I thought she might have moved here to spy on Fred. But you say she’s married? I didn’t know that!”

“Who’s married? What have I missed out on, letting you ladies tell your juicy gossip without me? “ asked Fred as he handed Margot a shawl. “I hope this will do. It was hanging on a peg by the door, and I wanted to hurry back here to see what you two are cooking up.”

Margot and Wren exchanged glances. “Celia’s married,” Margot said.

“Celia who? My Celia…I mean, my ex-Celia?”

“The Celia who’s in the back yard with her husband and Bernard. We don’t know whose Celia she is, or was, but she’s our neighbor now.”

“You mean the lady who moved in next door is Celia? That’s impossible,” Frederick said.
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