Ophelia (Hamlet 2)

One of the rooms on the second floor locked itself. There was no other way Maria could explain it. No one was trapped inside when they finally had to take the door off the hinges, but she’d had to replace the entire locking mechanism for that room because she couldn’t chance that happening to a guest. Then, when she realized the same design was in all of the new rooms, she had to replace those too.

She thought it would be better once the actual construction was done and the fun part—the decorating—began. It wasn’t. The incidents slowed down, yes, and Maria stopped worrying her cross with her thumb as if she continued to fear that Ophelia was haunted, but the amount of time, energy and level of intricate detail her artist’s eye devoted to creating her vision meant that it took her ages to pronounce the bed and breakfast ready for guests.

Except now the sign was up. Her kitchen gleamed with polish, her refrigerator completely stocked up. All six guest rooms were aired out, the beds turned down, the flowers fresh.

She was open for business.

Leaning into Lucas, she gave her brother a squeeze.

He returned the side-arm hug before jerking his chin towards the sign. “You made that?”

“I’ve been making things for everyone else for years.” Holding up her free hand, Maria ticked them off on her fingers. “Adrianna’s coffeeshop—both signs, the DC&C one and that new one that just says the coffeeshop. The plaque for the Hamlet School. Caro and her mom’s inn. And, don’t forget, the Hamlet sign out front. I’ve made like five of those.”

“People keep dying. How inconsiderate of them.”

Maria jabbed him in the side with her elbow. “It’s not just that. Some people move away. Then there’s the babies—the Johnsons just had twins. And then I had to paint a new sign when some of the elders got together and decided to add the new motto to the welcome sign a couple of weeks ago.”

“‘Hamlet helps’,” Lucas remembered. “Didn’t someone try to shoot that idea down?”

With an apologetic grimace, Maria admitted, “I heard it was Cait.”

“Hmm. Really?”

“Uh-huh. I ran into Mase—you know, Mason Walsh? One of the deputies?—down at the

store a couple of days after the meeting. Seems like she threw a fit, thought a tagline like that would actually make more outsiders want to stay here. As if that was a bad thing.”

Lucas thought about it for a second. “Yeah. That’s Caity for you.”

He sounded so resigned. It didn’t matter that they finally divorced last year. As far as Hamlet was concerned, the only thing that separated them was the different houses they lived in.

It probably didn’t help that Caitlin was the main part of the reason that everyone expected them to get back together. She went around insisting that it was just a trial separation, that Lucas would be moving back in any day now. Sure, he had his own place built on the other side of town, but what devoted couple didn’t need a little space every now and then?

Maria suspected that Lucas made sure to build his own small bungalow apart from his office in a bid to establish his freedom from Caitlin. He couldn’t go back to the De Angelis family home because everyone would be waiting to see Caitlin retrieve him from there. His defiance shouted out to all of Hamlet that he was on his own.

It had been a year already. They’d have to get the hint eventually. Lucas was never going back.

In fact, the one year anniversary of their divorce had passed only a couple of weeks ago. Caro told Maria that her husband, Roy, saw Caitlin down at Thirsty’s making a right ass of herself. She later showed up at Lucas’s new place, threatening to shoot the door down if he didn’t let her in to chat. And while he managed to talk her down, it only led to her buzzing him early the next morning with a promise that she would be better if he only gave her another chance.

Ha, Maria thought. When Hell froze over.

Lucas confided that he had half a mind to post the signed divorce papers in his waiting room so anyone who came to see him as a patient saw proof that their marriage was over.

And then there was the way Caitlin stubbornly clung to her married name, as if that would force Lucas to change his mind.

In her experience, once Lucas set his mind to something, nothing in this world or the next would ever get him to change it.

Lucas crossed his arms over his chest as he circled the sign, appraising it once more. Rubbing his clean-shaven chin thoughtfully, Maria could’ve sworn she saw a hint of his dimple peeking out. He was amused.

“You can keep that bottom line on the sign,” he announced.

She hadn’t planned on removing it. Unlike a majority of Hamlet, Maria loved the idea of outsiders finding their way into town and staying the night at Ophelia.

“Why?” she wondered. “Because of Caitlin?”

“If my ex thinks it’s a bad idea to invite outsiders into Hamlet, then I guess I’m all for it. Open to all. Sure. Why not? The more outsiders, the better.”

Maria gave a short, throaty laugh. “You’re terrible.”