An Anniversary to Die For Read Online Free Page B

nothing of us worrying about getting it here,” Jerry said.
    “What is it?”
    “You’ll find out tomorrow.”
    “I did notice a few people carrying packages,” Jed said.
    “More than a few. Those nutty old women . . .”
    “They’re not nutty old women. They’re the owners of the inn,” Susan’s mother corrected her father.
    “That doesn’t make them less nutty or less old. Anyway, I saw them earlier piling up the gifts in the TV room. That was hours ago, before all these people arrived, and it was quite a pile already.”
    “Perhaps Jerry and Kath can take some home for us,” Jed suggested.
    “Oh, there probably won’t be that many,” Susan’s mother said.
    “Besides, if Kathleen and Jerry take them home, what will we have to do once the party’s over?” Susan asked, looking over at her husband and smiling.

FOUR
    BUT BY THE TIME SUSAN AND JED HAD SAID GOOD-BYE TO the last of their guests, tipped the staff, and reassured the Twigg sisters that everything truly had been wonderful, they were so exhausted that they could barely make it up the stairs.
    “I have the key here somewhere.” Jed reached in his pocket.
    “It was a wonderful party, wasn’t it? I had a wonderful time. I think everyone had a wonderful time.” Susan’s statement ended in a yawn.
    “And now you’re going to get a wonderful night’s sleep.” Jed turned the key and pushed open the door. “But not in this room.”
    “What do you mean?” Susan peered through the doorway. “I don’t believe it.”
    “I saw some people arrive with gifts, but I had no idea there would be this many,” Jed said. The room was filled with beautifully wrapped presents. Pastel-covered squares and rectangles stood on the dresser and filled the wing chair by the window. What looked like a canoe paddle leaned precariously against the wall. Their queen-size bed was piled high with wrapped gifts. “What are you doing?” he asked his wife, who had preceded him into their room.
    “I just thought I’d open one or two.” Susan picked up a tiny, silver box bound with narrow, embroidered silk ribbon. “This is from Dan and Martha. You don’t suppose it’s from Arizona—maybe something from one of those fabulous art galleries Martha is always writing about.” She tugged on the ribbon.
    “Susan, it’s late. You can start opening gifts if you want, but I’m going to see about another room.”
    “Another room! But this is our room, Jed. Besides, the inn is completely booked. Unless you can convince one of our friends to share a room, this is where we’re spending the night.” She yawned again.
    Jed smiled at his wife. “You’re exhausted. I saw you packing your favorite bath oil. Why don’t you take a bath, and I’ll move things around so we can sleep?”
    “You don’t think you’ll need my help?”
    “I know you around wrapped presents. You’ll be shaking and guessing what’s inside until you convince me to help you spend the night opening them. You take a bath. I’ll move this stuff. It’s the only way we’ll get any sleep tonight.”
    “There should be a chilled bottle of champagne here somewhere.” Susan looked around.
    “When I find it, I’ll pour out a glass and bring it to you. Now go.”
    She went. Their bathroom had been tucked under the eaves and contained many pieces of whitewashed wicker, apparently to make up for the lack of headroom. Susan had unpacked all the necessities earlier, and she poured green-tea oil under the less-than-gushing faucet before getting undressed.
    She was tired, happy and tired. And the water was warm and soothing—so much so that she fell asleep almost immediately.
    She didn’t know how long she dozed, but by the time she woke up, the water had cooled off. She looked around and smiled. No champagne. Jed must have drifted off, too. Well, they weren’t as young as they once were. She got out of the tub and dried off, splashing on her favorite cologne before slipping into a silk kimono. Then