A Newport Sunrise

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A Newport Sunrise Page 4

by Cindy Caldwell


  Faith started to close the door but stuck her head back in for a quick second. "Can't help it. I'm late. You'll have to wait to get information like I did. And turnabout's fair play."

  With another laugh, she shut the door and was gone. Fair enough. Jen really should have told Faith and Carrie last night that she was seeing Joe so much, and how much she enjoyed getting to know him. But Jen had been worried about Faith and then—Faith had fallen asleep.

  Jen decided she'd tell her friends tonight at dinner, but then remembered that she'd invited Joe. She'd just have to figure out a time before dinner to let them know. It wasn't really that big a deal —they just got together a fair amount, so nothing really to tell.

  That's what she'd been telling herself, anyway, but she was starting to realize it wasn't true. There was something to tell, and it was a good something. And suddenly she was very excited to share it with her best friends.

  Right after Faith left, Jen looked up at a knock on the door. She opened it to see a tall man with strawberry blond hair, a mustache and about a million freckles.

  "Oh, yeah, sorry to bother you, ma'am. I know this might not be a welcome time to ask you a question. Is it a welcome time to ask you a question?"

  Jen was a pretty good judge of character, and even though he was a little odd, she didn't get any bad vibes from him. Actually, he just made her smile.

  "Sure," she said, stepping out onto the deck and trying to close the door before Daisy got out —but she didn't make it.

  "Dogs. That's a dog. I love dogs," he said. He bent down to pet Daisy, and Jen was amazed her tail didn't fly right off, she was wagging it so hard. Daisy seemed to be a good judge of character, too.

  "What is it? A border collie? I love border collies. I had a friend once with a border collie, one blue eye, one brown eye. That was a smart dog. It could round up a guinea pig like nothing you've ever seen."

  Jen laughed —she couldn't help herself. "A guinea pig?"

  "Yes, ma'am, very important,” the man said as he stood, his blue eyes shining. "Dogs. They're really something."

  Jen blinked a couple of times before she could remember where they were in the conversation.

  "Can I help you with something?" she asked.

  "Oh, yeah, right. I don't want to bother you. I can come back another time if that would be better. Would another time be better or is this an okay time?"

  If Jen had met anyone else like this, she might be worried. But this man seemed really sweet, eager and just —talked really fast. About strange things. But now she was curious what he wanted to say. She glanced over his shoulder, and he'd parked a truck with a lot of construction tools and a ladder in the back.

  "This is a good time. What can I do for you?" she asked, really curious now.

  He stood back another step, and when he reached his hand out to shake hers, he had to lean forward. "My name's Keith, ma'am. Keith Logan.”

  "Nice to meet you, Keith Logan,” she answered, shaking his calloused hand. "I'm Jen Watson."

  "Yeah, I know, I know. I mean I don't really know, but I believe you if you say it's true. I just wanted to tell you that I was up on a roof across the street doing some repairs and you have quite a few shingles that have lost their grip, so to speak."

  He folded his arms over his worn t-shirt and began to stroke his chin, looking up over the awning.

  "Oh, yes. I know. I was just getting ready to call around for some contractors. I don't know any down here. Do you?"

  He held his hands up and looked down at the ground, taking another step back. If he stepped back any further, he'd run into the fence, and Jen was so curious about this guy that all she could do is smile.

  "Yeah, yeah, I know it's hard to find a contractor. Especially in these parts. I've been working down here for forty years and even I'm hard to find. But I wasn't looking for work. Just wanted to let you know. I've worked on several houses on this street, so I know when something's different. And that's different. The shingles are supposed to stay on the roof. At least that's what the experts advise."

  He said all this with such a straight face that Jen outright laughed.

  "Nice to meet you, Miss Watson. Just wanted to let you know. I'll be going now. I have some guinea pigs need rounding up."

  He winked at her, his blue eyes twinkling, and as he drove away, she couldn't decide if he was nuts, or quirky, or both. But she really liked him. He hadn't left a card or anything, but at least he'd told her his name.

  She went through the stack of postcards —none were from him, which didn't surprise her. He was definitely not the type to do marketing by mail.

  But she'd already thought maybe he was the one she wanted to help her. He was definitely entertaining, and he seemed genuinely concerned about her roof —and her safety. She'd ask Dirk later tonight if he knew anything about him. And maybe it would be as easy as that.

  Nine

  It was always a flip of the coin that decided how Faith would get to work at the boutique. If she'd had more time, she would have walked but her outing with Daisy had made that impossible. There wasn't enough time.

  So when she hopped in her car, she had to decide which route would be quicker. And she never could decide. Taking the ferry from the peninsula across the bay to Balboa Island was the shortest route as the crow flies. But it was really a risk because only a few cars could hop on one of the two rotating ferries at a time and if the line was long...well, it could take a long time.

  The wind had died down and it was a pretty day, so she decided that she'd be better off avoiding that possibility. She headed up the peninsula and, judging by the steady stream of cars going in the opposite direction, she was pretty positive she'd made the right decision.

  Parking opportunities were not in abundance anytime in Newport, but on a lovely weekend day in the fall, they were even less so.

  By the time she found a place to park, it was a couple minutes after the store opened. She'd have to make a mad dash for it to be on time. At least, though, had added to her step count for the day.

  When she rounded the corner onto the main drag and had passed several shops, she looked up to see a few people standing outside the door of the boutique. She wasn't overly concerned because Patti, the owner, seemed to have her own sense of time that was only loosely related to the rest of humanity's.

  She smiled at the potential customers waiting outside and tried to think of something to say, but she really didn't know what was going on, so she just smiled. Again.

  "I'm sure the owner will —"

  Faith was interrupted at a familiar loud jingling. "I'm here, I'm here. Hello," Patti’s voice rang from down the street.

  Patti was definitely as unique as her store, her colorful skirt billowing in the breeze. Her silver bracelets —the source of the jingling —flashed in the sunlight. Her hair was even unique. It was long, and she'd cut bangs that were now silver, but the back part of her hair was still brown. It really was pretty and between that and her exotic manner of dress —beautiful skirt made of unusual fabric —she cut quite a figure.

  It was one of the reasons people liked the store, Faith imagined. The smell of incense wafted out as soon as Patti turned the key in the lock, and after the customers entered, Faith walked into the store. She really did feel at ease there —the dark wood figurines and furniture were somehow comforting to Faith.

  Faith frowned when she walked into the boutique. She'd worked all summer at the tiny, yet funky, store on Balboa Island and had never seen it like this before.

  Half of the display cases and almost all of the shelves were empty. She'd been working on the weekends since she'd gone back to her teaching job a couple of months prior, and maybe it had just been happening incrementally and she hadn't noticed. But there was no mistaking it now. The shelves were almost bare.

  Patti had left for a buying trip at the end of the summer and had seemed to have enough inventory for quite a while, but it was clear that was coming to an end.

 
So, all told, she enjoyed it. Patti was a little quirky, but Faith also thought she was interesting, loved the inventory in the store and got to make some money.

  Once they found themselves with a lull in customer traffic, Patti called Faith over.

  "Faith, good morning," Patti said, her voice a little strained. Faith set her purse in the back storeroom and looked around there, too —seeing virtually empty shelves.

  "Morning," Faith replied with a smile in an attempt to lighten the mood.

  "Faith, we need to talk."

  In Faith's experience, those words were rarely followed by anything good, so she sat on the stool by the register and braced herself for whatever would come. She really enjoyed working at the shop, and hoped she wasn't going to be fired. She'd carefully constructed her budget to include her income there, and would be sorry to see that go, too.

  Patti was an interesting person, and Faith had enjoyed learning from her. She was a little on the exotic side, but Faith had come to know that she was a good businesswoman, very aware of her niche market. The boutique had been a fixture on the main street of the island for decades. When Faith had covered for her over the summer to the best of her ability, it was obvious that Patti knew how to turn a profit. It certainly funded her buying trips. All in all, a good situation. And she had very, very good customers who showed their loyalty through repeat business.

  "Faith, I need your help."

  This sounded a little familiar to Faith, so her concern about getting fired ticked down a notch. Several times over the summer, Patti had gone on buying trips and asked Faith to cover, which she gladly did —because she could since she wasn't teaching summer school.

  She began to prepare her response in her head when Patti continued.

  "As you can see, our inventory is a little on the lean side, to say the least."

  Faith nodded. "I had noticed. Especially this weekend."

  "Yes. It usually goes like that. We seem to have a lot —until we don't. Usually I'm a little more ahead of the curve, but I haven't had anybody to cover since you went back to your school job."

  Faith knew that she had hired someone at the time that Patti had hoped could turn into management material, but that hadn't worked out. She hadn't been on a buying trip for months. So Faith felt like she could imagine what was coming.

  "So, Faith, is there any way —any way at all —that you could cover for me here? I really need to hunt down more inventory for us."

  While Faith did enjoy working at the shop, she wasn't sure who the 'us' was that Patti was referring to. She was just an hourly employee who tried to help out when she could, and she didn't think she could handle much more than that. In fact, she knew she couldn't.

  Faith sighed, wishing her answer could be different. "Patti, I really appreciate how much confidence you have in me, that I could even do it justice."

  "You did well over the summer when I left for those quick trips. This would just be a little longer."

  The desperation in her voice tugged at Faith's heart, but it really wasn't something she could even consider.

  "I have a full time job. And one that takes up extra time afterward. Who would teach my class?"

  Patti waved her hand as if batting at a fly. "I'm sure there are lots of kindergarten teachers around," she said, obviously unaware that there were, in fact, not. Especially in the middle of a school year.

  "If I were retired, I would certainly help. But I'm not. I'm sorry, Patti, it's just a fact."

  Patti squinted at Faith, then smiled. "I know. I'll raise your wages. How does five dollars an hour more sound?"

  Faith didn't even have to do any calculation in her head to know that it was a ridiculous suggestion. For a good businesswoman, Patti was completely oblivious to the real world.

  She smiled gently and said, "I appreciate your offer, but that won't come close to replacing my current income."

  "Oh, fiddle," Patti said, and Faith did her best not to smile. It didn't feel like quite an opportune time.

  "Well, how much do you make there?" Patti asked, reaching for her business ledger.

  Faith told her, and Patti's eyebrows rose.

  "Oh. Well, fiddle again."

  Faith did smile this time. "Besides, I've made a commitment, signed a contract. I can't just abandon my class."

  "Your loyalty is one of the things I like best about you, Faith, but I wish it were to me. Especially during an emergency like this," Patti said with a slight pout.

  Emergency wasn't exactly how Faith would describe it, but she supposed to a business owner it would feel that way. She also knew how much the boutique made, and while she wasn't privy to any debt the store might have, the figure was pretty hefty. Patti could afford a full-time manager if she wanted one.

  "I'm sorry, Patti. I do wish I could help."

  Customers streamed through pretty regularly for the rest of the morning, and Faith was on her third cup of coffee before her stomach began to growl. She'd meant to grab some hard-boiled eggs to eat for lunch but had completely forgotten while she was teasing Jen.

  Just when she was going to ask Patti if she could pop down the street and get a sandwich, the phone rang.

  "Good morning," Faith said when she answered.

  "Hello. Could you please tell Patti I'm ready to see her? This is Bob from the bank. I told her I'd call when her documents were ready."

  "Of course. I'll tell her." Faith hung up the phone, mildly curious what the documents could be about. But she had so much going on in her own life, she decided she didn't have room for it in her brain.

  "Patti, Bob at the bank is ready for you."

  "Splendid," Patti said, her bracelets jingling when she clapped. "I shall return." She and her skirt swooshed out the door and just as it closed behind her, Faith's stomach growled again.

  She usually kept at least a granola bar in her purse and she dug for one, to no avail. She'd even settle for a bag of potato chips at this moment, skinny jeans be darned.

  Patti hadn't said how long she would be gone and Faith couldn't leave until she got back. She hated to do it, but she texted Jen.

  * * *

  Help. I'm starving.

  * * *

  She got an immediate reply.

  * * *

  No problem. Leftovers from the 40s coming right up. Mwahahahaha.

  * * *

  Faith laughed in spite of her wish that Jen would just bring the boiled eggs. She really wasn't too picky and would be happy just to stop her tummy from rumbling.

  To take her mind off her stomach, she did a quick round of the shop, asking customers if they needed any assistance. She tried not to do that too often as people seemed to find her if they had questions, but it would kill the time until the cavalry came with some food.

  Jen pushed the bag toward Faith when her stomach growled again. "Right. Sounds like I'm just in time."

  "You are, and thank you," Faith said, relieved when she opened the bag to see hard boiled eggs and pretzels rather than leftover appetizers.

  Faith spent the busy day taking great care to dust and re-arrange the inventory they did have, from the bronze elephants to the wood carvings, and even the little boxes holding exotic stone jewelry. It was one of her favorite tasks, as she had always wanted to travel but her life didn't turn out that way. This was the closest she could get to seeing things from around the world.

  At the end of the day, she fluffed the pillows made from colorful fabric, some with gold beads and some with crystal sequins. The pillows she made were better, she thought. Even Jen and Carrie thought so. But these were pretty, too.

  As they prepared to close up for the night, Patti made one last try.

  "Are you sure? I know you love it here."

  Faith sadly shook her head. "I do love it here, but I'm not in any position to take on that responsibility. I hope you find someone perfect, and I'd love to continue to help in my small way."

  "Oh, fiddle," Patti said one last time before she turned and walked do
wn the street with a frustrated wave over her shoulder. "See you tomorrow."

  Ten

  The extra sunscreen had been a good idea. Carrie had on sunglasses, a hat, and a long sleeved shirt. It was a little bit cool, but the sun beating down in the convertible could give a wicked sunburn, anyway.

  "I always wanted a convertible," Dirk said as they cruised down the 405 on their way to San Diego. Bethany and Dirk’s daughter, Abby, were doing an exhibition at the camp and Dirk and Carrie had been invited to watch.

  After Bethany had stayed with Carrie for that month when Bethany’s dad went to Europe, they'd kept in contact. Bethany even spent weekends with Carrie when tennis allowed, and it had really brightened Carrie's life. They'd been apart for so long that she had closed her heart so much that she hadn't realized how much. With Bethany back in her life, it was as if things were finally normal again. And joyful.

  And hanging out with Dirk was an extra bonus. The girls had become fast friends, so they were thrown together quite a bit at tennis tournaments and camps. Not that Carrie minded. At all.

  She glanced quickly over at him in the passenger seat of the convertible. His sandy blond hair peeked out a bit from under his baseball cap and his aviator sunglasses reflected the cars ahead of them on the road. It really was a lovely day.

  So with Bethany's return, Dirk's friendship and her dental practice going well, Carrie felt like most things in her life were pretty good. Good enough that the fact she hadn't seen nor spoken with her mother in weeks didn't bother her in the slightest. In fact, it was a bit of a relief.

  Early on, she'd asked her mother if she wanted to get together with Bethany, maybe for dinner or something. Her mother had paused for a moment and said, "No, thank you." She hadn't even asked after Bethany at all, but with their history Carrie was only disappointed, not surprised. It was probably better this way.

  "There's a spot right there. Somebody must have left," Dirk said, pointing to the front row of parking, closest to the tennis courts.

 

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