“Did Lara tell you that I’m going into the hospitality business?” Will asked. “I want to be a general manager of a restaurant or a food and beverage executive at a big hotel chain.”
“She did tell me, and I’m glad to hear it,” Ashley said. “You’ll do great, Will. I think you’ll be good at either of those positions.”
He beamed at her. “Thanks!”
“But for now, you’ve got to do a lot of serving and cleaning, so let’s all get going!” Ashley said.
The clients and their friends turned out to be incredibly nice people. The evening went smoothly as they enjoyed each dish and complimented Ashley’s cooking as well as the service from Lara and Will. Each time Will came back into the kitchen he regaled Ashley with his enthusiasm about being a part of the dinner.
“Thanks, Ashley, I mean it. This is so important to me. After what happened, I’m glad you let me come back and help you. I’ll never let you down again, I promise.”
“I know you won’t, Will. It’s good to have you back. Now, can you go ask them who wants coffee?”
As soon as Will left to take coffee orders, Lara walked back in with dishes. Just before she went out to collect more dishes, she turned to Ashley.
“Think it all went very well, don’t you?” she asked. “Need me to take anything out?”
“One of the best dinner parties ever,” Ashley responded. “And I’m fine for now…” she started to say.
All of a sudden you could hear collective gasps and one person yelling in the dining room. The host had gotten up to turn on the television and look for the football scores, when they all saw the breaking local news.
“Body of Jon Carlson found on Bear Ridge is now considered a homicide. New DNA evidence is also found to re-open four-decade-old murder case.”
The news gave a few more details about Carlson’s disappearance after the trial decades ago, then the party host switched the TV to a sports channel. At that point, all the guests were in a frenzied conversation about the new developments about Carlson.
Will then walked back into the kitchen. “Five people want coffee, and they just reported that the old guy they found up on the mountain trail was murdered!”
Ashley stood there staring at him.
Wasn’t this supposed to be reported sometime tomorrow? she thought. I wonder who leaked it to the press.
Despite the hub bub, the host came into the kitchen and thanked Ashley and paid her.
“Great night tonight. Everyone enjoyed it immensely. Your two helpers were spot on,” he said.
“Glad you enjoyed it,” she said. “And the evening ended on a bang with that news!”
“It sure did! Turns out my friend’s mom was friends with the murder victim from years ago and is happy that Carlson guy got what was coming to him. Sure shocked me!”
Ashley followed the host out to the dining room and went around the table asking everyone if they had a good time. As she spoke to the guests, she shook their hands and looked into their eyes. It wasn’t hard to identify the lady who had known the murder victim since everyone was asking her lots of questions.
The woman’s eyes looked glazed over as she tried to speak about what happened so long ago. She looked a bit frightened too, as if there was too much to tell. As Ashley reached out to take her hand, another woman cut in.
“Hopefully, this will bring you some closure, Margaret,” she said.
Margaret looked at the woman. “There is never true closure. She was my best friend.”
Ashley finally was able to hold Margaret’s hand. “Even though it was years ago, I’m truly sorry.”
Margaret stared at Ashley. “Who are you?”
“I’m the caterer for tonight. I hoped you enjoyed the meal.”
“No, dear, I mean who are you? Not what do you do.”
Ashley stumbled over her words. ”Well, I’m Ashley Crane, and I live here in Comfortville, and I…”
Just then someone else cut Ashley off.
“Come on, Mom, it’s time to go,” a younger woman said. She smiled at Ashley and then steered her mother to the door.
Ashley stared at their backs, trying to memorize everything about the woman.
“Hey, Ashley, can we pack up? Everyone’s going.” Will stood over Ashley, blocking out the light.
“Yes, let’s go,” Ashley said.
It didn’t take long to pack up their gear, and as soon as her car was loaded up, she gave them both a big hug goodnight.
“Thanks so much. Love you,” she said.
“Thanks! It was fun,” Lara answered.
“And I did a great job!” Will said, almost in amazement.
Ashley smiled at him. “Yes you did.”
As her friends drove off, Ashley wrapped her scarf around her tighter and buttoned up her sweater. She had heard this was going to be an especially cold autumn and winter. But what made her shiver more was meeting that woman earlier. Something about her face. Her loss. The way she stared into Ashley’s eyes. Ashley hadn’t even been born when the crime happened. And yet, there was something so familiar about it all. Like ghosts in her mind, in the fabric of the mountains, in the wind at night. As if they were calling to her for answers.
Chapter Five
Arabella struggled to fix her yard. She couldn’t lift the old boards laying in front, so she tried dragging them off to the side. She could conceal them under the thicket that grew on the side yard, and no one would be the wiser. She had spent the better part of the afternoon cleaning up the brush, branches and sticks on the ground, and had taken down all the Halloween decorations, and swept the porch. She wiped her brow and frowned as she looked around, then peered at the house.
Needs a paint job, she thought. Where am I going to get the money?
Two of the posts on either side of the porch and the old overhang were sagging too, they would have to be bolstered up, and the cracked windows replaced. In the meantime, she tore down the scraggly curtains in front. She had some cloth and lace upstairs in her trunk and would make new ones. Soon she would hang them, and put planters in front with fresh flowers in them. That would help.
She took a break and sat down on her chair by the little table out front. She lit her pipe and took a drag from it, then a sip of coffee. Her back ached, but she still had to haul in wood to stack by her fireplace. Thank goodness her neighbor up the hill had taken pity on her and stacked a tall pile of it in her backyard before the weather would get bad. She had made him two apple pies and some cookies, and he praised her cooking to high heaven. Such a nice young man.
Still, if Frank were here, he would have this place looking like it was shiny and new. He was strong; he could do everything. That was, before the leukemia took him down. His last month was the hardest. He used to lie in bed and cry like a baby for her. The hospice nurse would lean over and wipe his brow and try to soothe him. But he’d keep calling for Arabella.
“Mamma, come here, mamma. I can’t take this pain no more.”
She’d go to his side and wipe his brow and hold his hand and tell him how much she loved him. Sometimes she’d prop him up and hold him in her arms like when he was a baby. She’d tell the nurse to increase his morphine, and then he’d stop moaning and drift back to sleep.
Once the nurse came to her in the kitchen and told Arabella that every time she increased the morphine dose, it could be hastening his death.
“I know you don’t want him to suffer, I just want you to know that some studies suggest that is one of the outcomes of it.”
Arabella had been extremely tired that morning; so tired from not sleeping and worrying about Frank, and up all night holding his hand or wiping his brow. Even with the nurse there, he had wanted his mamma as much as possible. And that particular morning, she was on edge. She turned around and glared at the hospice nurse.
“Have you read up on this? I’ve heard about that. But I’ve also heard that’s not true. Better check your sources,” she snapped. “I can’t have him suffer! He�
��s got to die with dignity. He deserves that. Or do you think because we’re black that we don’t deserve that?”
The nurse stopped pouring coffee in her cup and looked at Arabella. Her eyes filled with tears. She put her cup down and spoke softly.
“I never thought that, Mrs. Lee. I just didn’t know if you were aware about the studies on it, that’s all. I’m sorry if I upset you.”
The nurse turned and walked back into the bedroom where Frank drifted in and out of consciousness. Arabella walked after her to say something, but stopped in the hallway and looked at her reflection in the little mirror over the side table. Her face was old and worn, but for a moment she saw a little black girl sitting by her mamma and listening with intent.
“You always watch over yourself,” her mamma had said. “Don’t let nobody mess with you. And be polite. White folks like polite little black children. And old black folk do too. Don’t be loud and talk back. Ever. And read. Read lots like your mamma. We have to get an education; we have to work harder to prove ourselves. It ain’t fair, but that’s how it is. And don’t ever forget that you can be anything you want to be. You’re my baby girl. But you always have to watch over yourself, be careful who you take up with. Watch the white folk. There’s lots of fine white folk. Try to see who the good ones be. Especially when your mamma is gone.”
“How will I know which ones be the good ones?” she had asked her mother.
“You just know, baby girl. Watch what they do, not what they say. Your heart will tell you.”
“Okay, mamma,” she had said.
Now that all that time had gone by, Arabella was sure of one thing. She had known plenty of good white folks in her life, but something had happened along the way as she grew older, and she felt that things weren’t as good as they should have been by now between folks of all colors. The news told of horrible things happening in the country and the world, and she had been upset watching it.
“Why some people got to be so awful to people who different than them?” she often asked herself. “We all God’s children.”
At that point, she shook her head. None of it was the nurse’s fault. She had been taking good care of Frank. She was a kind woman. Arabella walked into the bedroom.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just so tired and upset. Everything been taking a toll on me.”
“I know,” the nurse said quietly. “You’re losing your son. I can’t even imagine.”
Arabella looked at her sadly. She took the nurse’s hand.
“I hope you never do. Thank you for helping us.”
“I’m here,” the nurse said. “Just let me know what you need.”
The nurse went back to tending to Frank. Arabella went into the kitchen to pour herself another cup of coffee. It would be another long day and long night watching her son slowly die.
Nothing made sense when someone you loved was dying. Life around you kept on going; people kept driving, kept shopping, kept going to work, kept having their birthday parties. It was hard on the caretaker to sync up with what was routine, what was normal.
Like having a big part of you on another planet, she thought. Just waking up every day and seeing your baby slip away. That’s all I really know now. That’s all I can feel.
After speaking with the nurse, she had taken her cup of coffee and walked outside to sit on the porch that day. It was cold, but the air was so fresh, she had to sit outside. She wrapped her shawl tightly around her and breathed in deeply.
Just then a car came racing up the road. She heard squeals before she even saw it.
Now who in God’s name is tearing up here? she thought.
She stood up to get a better look. The car had sped by her house on its way up the road. But someone in the back seat had rolled down the window and tossed something on her lawn as it flew by.
She waited a minute after the car was gone and then walked over to see what had been thrown. It was a small envelope that read “Frank.” She slowly opened it. Inside was chicken scratch writing.
“We know all about Frank and what he did,” it read. “The man can die, but he ain’t taking the secret with him.”
Arabella froze. Frank always had a drinking problem, but he had kicked that a long time ago and got clean and sober and finished technical school. That wasn’t a secret. What could this possibly be referring to? She had hurried back in the house.
The nurse met her outside the room. “He’s awake now if you’d like some time with him.”
Arabella quietly walked in and sat down next to her son. She reached for his hand and squeezed it.
“Hey, mama,” he whispered.
“Hi, son. You feeling okay?” she said.
“I’m okay, mamma.”
“Pain ain’t too bad?”
“Not too bad right now, mamma.”
She sighed in relief. Increasing his morphine had helped. She didn’t want him suffering his last days.
“You let me know when it gets bad,” she said.
“Yeah, mamma,” he whispered again. His eyes rolled up high, then back down again trying to focus on her.
“Frank?” she said. “I gotta ask you something.”
He tried to look at her, his eyes continuously drifting.
“Is there something you want to tell me? Something you keeping inside? You know I ain’t gonna judge you, you can tell me and it won’t change how much your mamma loves you.”
Frank’s eyes watered. It was hard to tell if he was tearing up or it was just his condition. He weakly reached for her face.
“Mamma, I didn’t do nothin’ but drink too much. You know that. But I know something I kept a secret and some folks been trying to blame me for covering it up. Please believe me, mamma. It wasn’t me.”
“What, Frank? I believe you. Just tell me so I know. So I can protect you baby.”
His eyes started to blink heavily. “Make no difference now, do it? Just remember I didn’t do what they say. Cause I love you, mamma, I wouldn’t do nothin’ to make you stop loving me.”
His eyes closed and his head dropped to the side. His body spasmed a few times and he drifted off.
Arabella’s eyes were filling with tears. She squeezed his hand until it went limp and then re-arranged it by his side. He couldn’t talk anymore.
She looked again at the note that had been tossed on her lawn. Whatever it was about, she promised to herself that she would fight for his reputation after he passed on. She’d get to the bottom of it. Wouldn’t be no one making a mess of her son’s life. Not as long as she had breath in her.
***
Even though time had moved on from that day long ago, Arabella was still raw with grief. She shook her head as if to quit the memories. She got up out of her chair and looked upward at the heavens.
“I’ll never quit, Frank. Something going on around here now with that body they just found. Something strange coming out about it now. Maybe that’s what it’s all about all these years later? But anyone try to blame you, I’m gonna fight. Just keep an eye on me, that’s all. Maybe they’ll come after me now too. But I’ll be ready for ‘em.”
Chapter Six
Autumn faded away into winter and the holidays were in full swing now. Ashley was getting ready for more parties and Sean was baking up a storm. They were nearly breathless with their work schedule. They were like two ships passing in the night. Sean would get up at three-thirty in the morning to be at Babycakes by four to get cakes, pies and the pastries ready for the day and for the catering orders. He was baking tons of pumpkin and apple pies a day, and turning out dozens and dozens of apple cider donuts.
Ashley would leave after him later in the morning for her luncheons, or early afternoon for her dinners. A lot of the time she would get home and he would already be asleep. It was okay, it was the way life was at the moment, but she did miss seeing him. Even weekends offered no respite now as they both were jammed full with orders then. One rare Sunday they had a day off together and she actually made t
hem a full breakfast of eggs, bacon, home fries and pancakes. They hadn’t eaten like that in the morning in a long time, and they savored every bite. Sean was on his second serving, and Ashley slowly drank her second cup of coffee.
“Wow, that was nice wasn’t it?” she said.
“It sure was,” he answered.
She smiled at him. “A normal Sunday together for a change, what a concept!”
Sean grinned back.
“Hey, I called Dad and we’re going droning again. Uncle George is coming again too. Want to come?”
She was a bit disappointed as she would have liked to have him all to herself today, but she realized the family outing would be the next best thing. She nodded her head.
“Of course,” she said. “Maybe I’ll ask my mom and your mom too.”
“Can’t,” he said. “Need them in the bakery so I can have the time off!”
“Of course!” she laughed. “But I’m in.”
“Ash?” he said.
“Yeah?”
“Can you make lunch for us?”
She laughed. “I’ll go start now.”
***
After getting their food ready, Ashley, Sean, Burt and George headed out to a huge field outside of town. Ashley hadn’t been to the spot in quite a while; it was just a mile away from where they had gotten married at Green Pond Meadow. It was flat and wide; perfect for flying the drone. It was cold too; Ashley had worn a comfy jacket to keep her warm, and Burt had a warm hat and gloves on.
“Don’t think you can fly the drone with gloves on, Dad,” Sean said.
“Well, then that thing has a design flaw, son. Most of the country is cold this time of year, so how the heck are you supposed to fly the thing otherwise?” Burt said.
“Well, let’s give it a try,” Sean said.
George just stood there passively looking on. He had been confused since the beginning about the drone and wasn’t going to try and interfere with anything he didn’t know about. “I’ll stand over here if you need me,” he said.
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