A Star Tribune serialized novel by Jane Fredericksen

Chapter 3

The story so far: Gina gives Kacie a gift, and dismisses the whisper of the wind.

Gina was greeted with a blare of music and cries of welcome. The reception hall was jammed with cream-colored streamers, balloons and decorations. Well-wishers mobbed her. Waiters skirted the edge of the dance floor, balancing trays of drinks and hors d'oeuvres. On center stage, an eight-piece band churned out lively swing jazz.

Bernie pushed through the crowd and stopped when he saw Gina. He gave a long, loud wolf whistle, turned to the band and whipped his arms up like a conductor.

The band broke into, "Here Comes the Bride."

Bernie swept forward and planted a noisy kiss on Gina's lips. "Like it?" he shouted over the band and cries of congratulations. "It's all for you!"

Gina caught her breath. All for me …

She shook herself back to reality. "Bernie, you're nuts! It's too much! We were just going to have a few friends, a little party! What about the wedding reception? How are we gonna pay?"

Bernie guffawed. It was the only sound even louder than the band. "Queenie, please! Don't talk to me about money!" He leaned close and lowered his voice. "I'll take care of you forever. And the Princess, too."

He offered her his arm.

Gina studied his face. It was a plain face, but an honest, earnest one. Bernie meant what he said. She had no doubt of it.

I am doing the right thing, Gina reassured herself. I've waited long enough. So has Kacie.

She smiled and took Bernie's hand as he waltzed her onto the dance floor.

* * *

On the television, a mad scientist guffawed.

"Sounds like Bernie," observed Kacie. She sat cross-legged on the apartment sofa, munching from a bowl of popcorn.

Thea sat at the other end of the sofa, pillow over her face. "Have they gotten to the good part yet?"

"You mean the crawling hand?" asked Kacie. "Not yet. No, wait a minute, here it comes! Look!"

Instead, Thea pressed the pillow tighter against her face, her voice muffled. "Just let me know when it's over."

* * *

Three hours later at the pavilion, band members finished their ballad and began to pack up instruments. Waiters cleared tables as the last few partygoers made their farewells.

At the door, Gina kissed Bernie goodnight. Both were a bit tipsy from free cocktails and it took a second try to connect.

Bernie sported a paper pirate hat and Gina's gauzy white wrap. "Hey, Lassie, kin I walk ye home?" he slurred.

Gina laughed. "Sorry, sailor, someone's gotta pay the band. Besides, it's only three blocks away … and I'm not that drunk. I'll be fine. See ya, Bern."

She made as if to give him another kiss, but when Bernie bent forward, she yanked his hat over his eyes.

"I can't see you," he protested.

Gina laughed again and pulled her wrap from Bernie. "Don't worry, you will," she teased. She pressed her finger on the tip of his nose. "You're gonna be stuck with me for a long, long time."

Bernie grinned. "I'm lookin' forward to that."

She gave him another kiss and exited, trailing her scarf behind.

Once outside, Gina took a deep breath and smiled. She was right, the wind had changed. But she'd misread it. This was a fair wind; a good one, one that would last forever.

She marched up the sidewalk, singing a sea chantey. "I've traveled this wide world all over, now on to another I'll go. For I know that good fortune is waiting …"

Gina paused at the end of the block, ready to cross the street. "To welcome …" she began, but suddenly, the wind ripped the shawl from her shoulders. The white gauze billowed like a spectral sail and tumbled into the road.

"Hey!" Gina yelled and dashed after it.

Just then, a car filled with partiers shrieked around the corner.

The scarf blew onto its windshield. And Gina looked up, blinded by headlights, too late to react. Her last thoughts were of Kacie, of Bernie, then finally, of the Pirate.

He'd been right, of course. You never could trust the wind. Just when you had it pegged, it went and turned on you.

* * *

Back at the apartment, Kacie stared wordlessly out the window. She could not see the adjacent street, but she heard the restless wind. She heard the distant sirens.

And she watched in horror as a gauzy white shawl floated past her window like a ghost, on to the lake beyond.

Tomorrow: Chapter 4.