Relieved to have the focus off her flustered parents, Charlotte pointed us out in turn. “This is Bess Marvin, my cousin—she’s going to be one of my bridesmaids. And these are her friends George Fayne and Nancy Drew.”
Mrs. Hill nodded politely at Bess and George, but her eyebrows went up a little when she took a closer look at me. “A redhead!” she said, almost to herself. And then a little louder, “How very nice to meet you all.” She moved back to the table with her husband and son. Parker began pouring iced tea for everyone, while Mr. Hill regaled the Goodwins with the history of the inn. As he was talking, Mrs. Hill surreptitiously rapped her knuckles three times on the surface of the table. If I hadn’t been watching, I would have missed it completely.
Parker saw it too and came over to me with a drink. “Don’t mind her,” he murmured with a smile. “My mother is extremely superstitious, and this whole wedding thing has her on high alert for bad luck.”
“But what does that have to do with Nancy?” George asked.
Parker looked apologetic. “Well, redheads are sort of like black cats. If one crosses your path . . .”
Bess laughed. “Well, Nancy is known to attract mischief wherever she goes!” She went on to tell Parker a little bit about my exploits as an amateur detective.