Miracle On 5th Avenue (From Manhattan with Love 3)

“I’ll sign anything you’d like me to sign.” Lucas was watching Eva. On the journey, she’d been unusually quiet, her normal friendly chatter reduced to monosyllabic responses.

Annie smiled. “That would be wonderful, and I know a few residents are bringing their personal copies for you to sign, too. Maybe you could do a reading?”

The question woke Eva from her trance. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” She looked alarmed. “No dripping blood or sharpened knives.”

“Oh, the suspense is the best part.” Annie led them down the sunny corridor. “Lucas’s book was our book club choice a few months back and we were all impressed that he’d hidden the killer’s identity so well. What a twist. Every one of us was fooled, and Tom normally guesses before anyone. Do you read his books, Eva?”

“Just the once. I’ve been in therapy since. I’m a coward.” Eva’s normally cheerful smile seemed a little forced and Lucas moved closer to her.

Being here proved she was anything but a coward.

Annie opened a door. “Everyone is at Chair Yoga at the moment, but they’ll be finished soon. I thought we could set up tea in the Garden Room.” She led the way into a spacious room overlooking gardens that led down to the Hudson River. Large windows ensured it was flooded with natural light.

“This was my grandmother’s favorite room.” Eva stared out of the window and Lucas wondered if he’d done the wrong thing by suggesting she come here. He was aware that he could easily be accused of hypocrisy. What had he done to reach out to people since Sallyanne’s death? Nothing. On the other hand the circumstances were different. The gulf between people’s image of what had happened and the truth was so great he had no idea how to bridge it. It had made communication with people who had known them as a couple false and pointless. Their condolences had grated over his raw feelings like sandpaper on flesh, another factor that had contributed to his self-imposed isolation each time the anniversary of her death came around.

Annie moved a couple of the chairs closer to the window. “Our chef has made turkey sliders.”

“And I made cakes.” Eva seemed to rouse herself as she reached for the bags she and Lucas had carried from the cab.

“Then I’ll round up the troops while you’re getting everything ready.”

Lucas took the bags from Eva and carried them to the table. “Are you all right?”

“I’m good.”

If she hadn’t been living in his apartment for weeks, a situation that had given him insight into her every mood, he might have been fooled. As it was, he knew she was lying but there wasn’t much he could do about it while they were surrounded by people.

He cursed himself for suggesting this visit. “We could make our excuses and leave.”

“That would be rude. Can you help me arrange the cakes?”

She’d made cupcakes and each one was a work of art, individually decorated with meticulous attention to detail.

He studied the intricate pattern on one of them. “Did you study art at school?”

“No. The only thing I create with paints is a disastrous mess.” She arranged the cakes on a plate. “Cooking is the only thing I’m good at.”

“I think you’re good at a lot of things.” He handed her another plate. “You’re running a successful business in New York City. Do you know how many start-ups go belly-up in this city?”

“I don’t want to know. Of course frightening people is your special skill so that’s probably your intention.”

“I would never want to frighten you.”

She turned her head and her gaze met his.

“Lucas—”

“You can do this, honey.” He spoke softly, for her alone, and she gave him a grateful look.

“Those cakes look delicious.” Annie joined them and there was no opportunity for further conversation because the residents started arriving and soon Eva was surrounded, swallowed up by the community of people who had been her grandmother’s friends. Her warmth and kindness drew people to her and he noticed that she took time to talk to everyone, including new residents she hadn’t met before.

The afternoon passed quickly and at some point attention turned from Eva to him, and he duly signed a stack of books and answered what felt like a million questions.

He met Tom, who seemed to be hanging on his every word. “My wife loved your books, too. We used to talk about them together. Talking about books was one of the things I missed most after she died. Conversation with a feisty woman is the best mental stimulation, don’t you think? I miss that.”

Eva slipped into the chair next to him. “You should get married again, Tom.”

Tom gave her a wicked smile. “Are you proposing? Because in my day that was the man’s role.”