A Newport Sunrise

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A Newport Sunrise Page 6

by Cindy Caldwell


  "Patti, I really appreciate it, but I don't see any way to do it. In fact, I was planning to quit today so that you could find somebody full time who can really help you."

  Patti gasped and took a step back, aghast.

  "That's simply out of the question. You are part of Patti's Parlor. You can't leave."

  Faith rested her head in her hand, not at all sure what kind of solution they could come up with. But Patti's enthusiasm —and disappointment —were definitely hard to ignore. And she really did love the shop.

  And Patti wasn't going to give up. "We can find a clerk to hire and train to work during the week. If you work weekends and take on the management paperwork, pricing and payroll maybe we could swing it. Please, just think about it. I haven't bought any tickets yet, but you can see I need to leave as soon as possible or we'll have an empty store."

  Faith couldn't believe what came out of her mouth next. "Okay, I'll think about it."

  Patti bounced on her toes and clapped, her silver bracelets jangling.

  "Oh, thank you. I'm really grateful. And I can't think of anyone else I'd want to take care of my baby while I'm gone."

  Faith got to work and the day flew by. She had so many thoughts rolling through her head that she wasn’t even sure what she did. Before she knew it, it was time to close up. And by that time, she sure needed to talk to Jen.

  Faith walked slowly to her car, disappointed that she couldn't help, but already starting to think about what she would need for her kindergarten class the next week. It took some mental gymnastics to end her weekends at the beach and teach on Mondays, but she'd gotten in a routine after this long. While she'd love to stay, she knew it wasn't an option, so she might as well accept it.

  Thirteen

  "Um, that's exactly the opposite of what was supposed to happen," Jen said after Faith had filled her in.

  "I know, right?" Faith knew she needed to pack and head home to get ready for school the following day, but she just wasn't quite ready.

  "Stay for dinner. We can figure it out. Carrie and Mrs. Grover are coming, too."

  "Okay," Faith said with a sigh. Jen poured her a glass of wine and steered her out on the deck, nudging her into a chair.

  Faith filled her in briefly, and also let her know she'd told Patti she'd think about it.

  "I don't blame you for that one. I don't think I would have known what to say, either."

  Carrie waved up to them on the deck before she knocked on Mrs. Grover's door. "We'll be right there. Save the good stories," she said.

  Jen laughed. "Well, maybe they'll have some good advice."

  Mrs. Grover handed the peach pie she'd made to Jen, who took a big whiff. "You make the best pies, Mrs. Grover."

  The older lady blushed, appreciating the compliment. "Thank you, Jen. I appreciate that, coming from a chef as fine as you are yourself."

  It was Jen's turn to blush. Faith thought they were both fantastic cooks, and was looking forward to dinner after her weird day.

  "So, what's going on? You guys looked like you were deep in thought." Carrie and Mrs. Grover took their places on the deck, but Carrie looked up as the wind started up again.

  "Things have gotten odd at the boutique. Faith tried to quit today and —well, it didn't quite work," Jen said, passing a plate of warm brie, crackers and artichoke dip.

  Mrs. Grover reached for a cracker. Cherry tomatoes dotted the plate and she popped one in her mouth while Faith filled them in on what had happened.

  "I was over there the other day, and I have to agree, there wasn't much on the shelves," Mrs. Grover said. "I love the smell of patchouli there, don't you?"

  Faith laughed at the thought of Mrs. Grover liking patchouli. It wasn't a scent that everyone appreciated.

  "You like it there?" Faith asked, her head cocked as she glanced at Mrs. Grover. As she'd been talking, her brain had also been at work on how she might be able to make this work.

  "I do. I've been shopping a fair amount lately, and I like it a lot. I always find interesting things. The incense is a particular favorite. I have several incense burners at home, I'll have you know." Mrs. Grover nodded, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  Faith, Carrie and Jen exchanged smiles.

  Carrie turned to the matter at hand. "So, if she pays you double what you make now, that would be great to put toward your retirement. But can you handle it? Physically? Those bags under your eyes imply otherwise. I say that with love, you know."

  "Thanks a lot," Faith said with a laugh. But they all cared about her, and Faith knew it. It wasn't as if she'd hadn't had the same concerns herself.

  "I've been rolling it over in my head. The money would be great. And with all the commotion, I think I forgot to mention to you guys that Amy asked if I was willing to have a student teacher. If she's as good as Amy says, it would lighten my load at school."

  They all looked up as the wind buffeted the awning, sending the blue-and-white striped fabric billowing wildly. Carrie's napkin blew off her lap before she could catch it. All four ladies reached for their glasses and plates and headed inside at the same time, without speaking a word. And Faith remembered to grab the peach pie.

  Faith had a tough time shutting the door against the wind. "That came up fast."

  "Sure did." Jen peered out the window. "Whew. If this wind keeps up that awning's going to rip again. I just got finished patching it and putting it back up. Not to mention if it's windy here, it's windy back at the house. I'd better check on Michael and Amber."

  "No word from them?" Faith asked. They'd turned on the news periodically, and while a few fires had been reported, none were close to Jen's house. At least not last time they'd checked.

  "I'm sure Michael would have called, but I'll check on them anyway after dinner." Jen set the roast chicken, surrounded with little red potatoes, onions and carrots on the table.

  "That rosemary smells divine," Mrs. Grover said.

  "Thank you for letting me pilfer some from your garden," Jen responded, gesturing for everybody to sit.

  They spent a good portion of dinner weighing the pros and cons of Patti's offer to Faith. By the end of the evening, they still hadn't come up with the best option.

  Faith sighed and set down her fork. "I told her I'd think about it, so I don't have to respond right away. And of course I need to run it by Maggy before I do anything. She's been pretty worried, and I wouldn't want to spring that on her as a done deal."

  "Smart of you," Carrie agreed. "When I saw her, she asked a lot of questions, asked that we'd look after you. I wouldn't want her to be mad at us, either."

  Faith laughed. "Right, it's all about you."

  They lifted their wine glasses and toasted.

  Mrs. Grover cleared her throat, and all eyes turned toward her. She took a deep breath and looked at each one of them.

  "Thank you all for being so nice to me. I really feel part of the group."

  "Oh, you are, Mrs. Grover. I can't believe it took so long for us all to become friends. And by the way, I love your outfit."

  Mrs. Grover looked startled, and glanced down at her capris. "Oh, thank you. I've been trying to step it up a little bit since the fashion show."

  Carrie leaned back in her chair and smiled at Mrs. Grover. "And it shows. You look very chic."

  "Thank you," Mrs. Grover replied, her cheeks pink. "But what I wanted to say was I'd be happy to help at the store, Faith. I do love it there, and if there's anything I can do, please let me know."

  Faith had always known that her friends loved her and wanted what was best for her. It was extra special to her that she had even one more to add to the list —Mrs. Grover.

  Fourteen

  The stack of roof shingles on the deck reminded Jen that she really did have an urgent mission. Enough had blown off that it could be a real problem, and with the windy season here and the rainy season coming, she knew she'd better get on it.

  Joe had stopped by the day before and gotten up on t
he roof. He'd nailed down some of the shingles, but didn't have much encouraging to say when he'd climbed down.

  "This is beyond my ability as an accountant, I'm afraid. Or, more accurately, your roof needs more work than I first thought."

  Jen frowned. "Wrong answer."

  "Yeah, I know," Joe said with a laugh. "Nobody wants to hear that. But honestly, I think this roof has already had more than one patch job. It's the original shingles that they don't really want you to use anymore. It really should be replaced."

  So as Jen made coffee for her and Faith and waited for her friend to come downstairs, she made a mental note to work on finding that contractor first thing.

  "I'll take you for an extra-long walk later, after Faith leaves," Jen had said to Daisy, with an extra dog treat for a bribe. If Faith was going to make it to work on time, she'd have to get a move on.

  "Faith, I have coffee ready," Jen called to her friend upstairs.

  "Thanks. I don't have time for anything else," Faith said as she patted Daisy's head quickly. "Sorry, girl. I'll take you next weekend."

  "Got you covered." Jen handed Faith a bag. "Muffins and lunch."

  "Bless you," Faith said, taking the bag and setting her suitcase on the porch.

  "You look a little better today." Jen had hoped her friend would get a good night's sleep but wasn't sure, after their talk last night. Faith had a big decision to make, one that wasn't going to be easy.

  "Thanks. I decided not to call Maggy or even think about this for a few days. I'll see how it goes in class with the new teacher, go over my budget again then see what Maggy thinks. I can talk to Patti next weekend when I come back. I should know what to do by then."

  Jen nodded. "I'm sure you will."

  Faith wiggled the bag in the air and sipped her coffee. "Thanks again. See you on Friday."

  The house was quiet after Faith pulled the door closed behind her.

  "Well, it's just you and me, Daisy," Jen said. "And I'm talking to a dog already."

  She made good on her promise and took Daisy for a long walk. It was still really early, and she didn't expect to see Joe. When she passed his house, the lights were still off.

  Back at her own house, she topped off her coffee and set about making her to-do list. At the top was try to find the contractor, Keith Logan.

  Dirk hadn't had any contact information for him, and suggested she try the internet. A pretty thorough search turned up nothing —no website for him, which really didn't surprise her one bit. He didn't seem like the type to even have a computer, let alone a website. She wouldn't be surprised if he only had a land-line, actually, not even a cell phone.

  She leaned on the counter, her chin in her hand, and drummed her fingers on the counter. If Keith had been around as long as everyone said he had, maybe Mrs. Grover knew him. Or knew of him.

  She grabbed another cup of coffee and headed next door, hoping it wasn't too early for her neighbor.

  Tapping lightly on the door, she stepped back, ready to leave if there was no answer. She definitely didn't want to wake her up.

  Mrs. Grover threw the door open wide and stepped back, her smile wide.

  "Good morning, my dear," she said, ushering Jen inside.

  Jen held out one of Nana's muffins and sat on the wingback chair that Mrs. Grover had patted.

  "This is lovely. Can I make you some tea?"

  Jen held up her coffee mug. "No, thanks. I brought my own."

  Mrs. Grover nodded, fetched her tea from the kitchen and sat opposite Jen.

  "What can I do for you this fine morning?"

  "I have a bit of a dilemma and I was wondering if you might be able to help."

  "Of course, my dear. Anything at all. You've come to the right place."

  Jen laughed, sure that she probably had.

  "I'm pretty sure that we're going to need a new roof on the house."

  Mrs. Grover nodded gravely. "Based on the shingles I've found in my garden, I'd say probably sooner rather than later, too."

  "I think you're right. Anyway, I started to hunt for a contractor and this strange man just stopped by and told me I needed a roof. Not exactly like you needed to be Sherlock Holmes to figure that out, as you mentioned, but he didn't seem to be hinting for work. He just said he wanted me to know and then he left. His name is Keith Logan. And I've searched for him on the internet but can't find him."

  Mrs. Grover smiled. "I don't know him myself, but I know of him. They've been working around the peninsula for a very long time. As long as I've been here. I think they had more work back before all of these people decided to build monstrosities. They specialized in smaller projects. And from what I know of them, you won't find them on the internet."

  "No?" Jen asked. "Then how can I find them?"

  Mrs. Grover held up a finger and went into the kitchen, returning with what Jen vaguely recognized as a phone book.

  Mrs. Grover took her sleeve and wiped what could only be a layer of dust from the cover. "I guess I haven't used it in a while. Good to have, though, for those of us who are old school."

  Jen had received several on the porch of the beach house but always threw them away. She remembered them from when she was a kid, but with the internet, she couldn't imagine who would still use them. Nobody even had land lines anymore and they didn't publish cell phone numbers.

  "Ah, the good old yellow pages." Mrs. Grover flipped through the various ads in the back part of the book and finally pointed, handing the book to Jen.

  "Right there. Logan and Son."

  "Oh, that's what you meant by them. He has a son, then."

  Mrs. Grover laughed and held her hand to her chest. "No, Jen, he is the son. He's been in this business with his father forever."

  Jen raised her eyebrows. "Oh. He's —he's —" Jen wanted to say that Keith was on the older side himself so she couldn't imagine how old his father was. Was he still working? And did she want him on the roof? All kinds of questions flooded her mind.

  "I think his father is semi-retired now. I believe I heard that from someone. Anyway, there you go. You can borrow the phone book, but please be sure to return it. You never know when you might need one."

  Mrs. Grover poured herself a bit more tea. She stirred it and was quiet for a moment, watching the cream swirl before she slowly set her spoon on the saucer. Jen thought maybe her eyes were misting and she hoped she hadn't caused any trouble.

  "Mrs. Grover, are you all right?"

  Mrs. Grover glanced at the muffin that remained untouched on the coffee table.

  "You know, your Nana used to bring me a muffin every morning and we'd sit and watch the sun come up, listen to the birds, watch the waves. I really miss her."

  She swiped at a tear, then held out her hand to Jen. Jen squeezed it, feeling a little misty herself.

  "I miss her too. And this is a nice way to feel like she's with us. We should do this more often."

  Mrs. Grover nodded and smiled. "I'd love that, Jen. I really would."

  Jen tucked the phone book under her arm. "Thanks for the help, and I'll see you soon," she said.

  Outside the door, she glanced at Nana's garden and back at Mrs. Grover's house. She was glad that Nana and Mrs. Grover had each other, and were as good friends as she was with Carrie and Faith.

  She sighed at the thought of being without her best friends and knew it must be hard for Mrs. Grover. As she walked in the gate of Nana's house, she vowed to go see Mrs. Grover more often in the morning, and honor Nana's memory while making new ones.

  Fifteen

  Later, Jen knew before she even opened it that it was Keith who’d knocked. She could see his truck out front through the windows as she headed toward the door.

  She'd finally tracked him down, and after several calls he finally returned hers.

  "You sure you want to hire somebody who doesn't return your phone calls right away?" Joe had asked.

  She'd explained to him that she didn't fully understand why, but yes, she did want to hav
e him do the roof. When she first talked to him by phone, he'd given her a list of references and in doing her due diligence, she'd called a few. The people he'd given for references had laughed at the very beginning, before they'd explained that Keith and his father, when he helped, did outstanding work at very good prices, but you had to be willing to give in to some of their quirks.

  But she already knew about that, so it didn't deter her. They'd agreed he'd come over and do measurements and return now, Friday, with an estimate.

  When she opened the door, she was surprised to see not only Keith, but an older man standing there with him. His arms were folded over his chest, and he took a step back when Jen opened the door. In fact, they both did.

  "Hey, yeah, I know it's early. Probably too early to put your thinking cap on, but here we are," Keith said.

  "No, it's fine. We had an appointment, remember? I was ready for you. Would you like some coffee?"

  Keith held up his hands, and so did his father. "No, we've had enough coffee already to flood an island. Shouldn't have any more, then we won't be hungry for lunch and that would be bad."

  Jen nodded and stepped out onto the porch. The morning was crisp and lovely, and she gestured toward the outside table.

  Neither man sat down. Keith paced, and the older man leaned against the railing. He looked almost exactly like Keith —or Keith looked exactly like him. But he was handsome, the same reddish-blonde hair with a little more gray around the temples. She guessed him to be closer to her dad's age but really couldn't tell. The freckles made them both look like little boys —endearing little boys. Especially when they smiled, which was often.

  "Yeah, this is my dad. And I'm the son. Of Logan and son. His name is Earl. Earl Logan.”

  Jen stood again and extended her hand. Earl gave it a firm squeeze and a hardy shake, with a tip of a hat he wasn't wearing.

 

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