Sitting upright, Jenny removed the throw, folded it, and placed it on the back of the couch, then grabbed her book and spread it open on her lap at the place where’d she left off hours earlier. But before she could begin to read, she heard the sound of soft footsteps.
They came to the dining room one by one—in their pajamas. Silly pajamas. Pajamas imprinted with cats, with dogs, with parrots, and even pink elephants. They were older than her by at least twenty years. They were loud, boisterous, and obviously having fun—a lot of fun. They had to be the sorority sisters that Lavinia and Maude had spoken of the evening before. They sounded more like biological siblings.
Jenny tried not to pay attention to the laughter, tried not to think about how much fun she and Missy could have had if her friend had decided to join her. She tried to concentrate on the words on the page before her, but found it nearly impossible. Her stomach gave a loud growl and she glanced at the clock on the mantle. It had been a little more than two hours since she’d eaten that wonderful muffin. Perhaps she’d go sit at a table overlooking the lawn and the garden beyond and have a real breakfast. Yes—that’s what she’d do.
She got up and walked from the lobby to the dining room and took a seat at a table set for two, the empty chair opposite her once again emphasizing her loss. Should she wait there for her hostess to wait on her or go to the kitchen to request something to eat? A carafe of coffee stood on the big round table to Jenny’s right where the women sat, and all of them seemed to be nursing cups. The rest of the muffins and strudel she’d seen earlier in the kitchen were piled on pretty cake plates. Jenny eyed the carafe. Should she ask if she could pour herself a cup?
“Did you hear about Crystal?” asked one of the women. Jenny looked away, afraid they might think her nosy if she continued to stare. But it was only seconds later when her gaze strayed back in that direction that she noticed the woman had fuchsia colored nails that contrasted nicely with her paler pink elephant PJs.
“No,” the other three chorused.
“Divorce number two is on the way?” she practically sang.
“Really? But I thought she and this latest bozo were supposed to be a match made in heaven.”
“More like H-E double hockey sticks,” the first one said and laughed. The others joined in with her.
“Honestly, what was she thinking marrying a three-time loser with six illegitimate kids?”
“That love would keep them together?” the woman with the kitty jammies chimed in, and then lifted her spoon as though it was a microphone and started singing that oldies tune Jenny had heard from her mother’s kitchen radio about a million times while growing up. They all broke into helpless giggles.
Jenny opened her book, lowered her head and tried to read, but couldn’t seem to concentrate on the words. She looked out over the soggy lawn as the rain continued to pelt the windows. Outside the window hung a hummingbird feeder swaying in the strong breeze. One of the tiny birds struggled to dip his beak into the little plastic flower to drink the nectar. What a tenacious creature, she thought, and again reached for the charm that hung from the chain around her neck.
The women at the other table continued to converse.
“Is it too early to plan our fall get together?” asked the one in the kitty PJs.
“It’s gotta be after school starts so I have time to freeze enough meals to keep the kids and Mike in food while I’m gone. Otherwise, he’ll feed them pizza and candy and when I get home they’ll be bouncing off the ceiling.”
“It takes you four months to put together two day’s worth of meals?” asked parrot woman.
“Yes. You know I have a huge procrastination problem.”
“There are drugs for that, you know,” said the one in the pink elephant jammies.
“Really?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course there aren’t!” But that didn’t stop them all from laughing once again.
When the laughter died, a conspicuous silence fell over the room, Jenny heard one of the women whisper. “Do you think we should ask that young lady to join us?”
Jenny cringed inwardly and looked away. The truth was, she felt terribly lonely. That coming to Blythe Cove Manor alone may have been a big mistake. And what if they decided not to invite her to join them? Should she run back to her room and hide for the rest of the day?
“Excuse me,” asked the woman in the parrot pajamas, who was suddenly standing beside her. “But would you like to join us for breakfast?”
Startled, Jenny hesitated.
“I promise, we don’t bite.” And to prove it, the woman removed a partial plate from her mouth that concealed her lack of four upper front teeth.
Jenny couldn’t help herself; she laughed.
Apparently that was exactly the reaction the woman had anticipated, for she popped her faux teeth back into her mouth and joined in gleefully. “I lost them when I was twelve,” she explained. “My dad warned me not to ride my bike on that rainy day, but I knew better. I stopped fast, flew over the handlebars, and landed on my mouth. Good-bye so-called permanent teeth. That aside, our invitation is sincere.”
Jenny smiled. “Thank you. I’d love to.” She picked up her book and was welcomed to the big round table with a cacophony of what sounded like sincere hellos.
“I’m Pam,” said parrot woman. “And this is Lisa, Amy, and Tracy.”
“I’m Jenny.”
“Hi, Jenny,” the women said in unison.
“It’ll be a lot easier for us to get to know you than for you to get to know this gang in one fell swoop,” Pam said. “So tell us a little about yourself.”
“There’s not much to tell. I was supposed to be here with my mother, but she passed away suddenly about two months ago.”
“Aw,” the women lamented as one.
Jenny gave them the Cliff Notes version of her life, more interested to hear about each of them.
Pam took on the role of Mistress of Ceremonies. “Lisa is a microbiologist. She’s doing research at Columbia University and also knits goofy dishcloths.”
“They’re very useful,” Lisa protested, while her three friends rolled their eyes and made gagging noises.
“Amy’s a veterinarian and teaches at Cornell University.”
“I specialize in equines—should you ever need my services.”
Jenny wasn’t quite sure what that meant. “I live in a tiny apartment. No room for even a guinea pig, although I’ve been considering moving back into my mom’s house.”
“Tracy is a Special Ed teacher in Boston. She stumbled across Blythe Cove Manor last summer and said we had to come here for one of our retreats.” Tracy bowed her head, as though welcoming the credit. “And I’m the PR director of a Fortune 500 company—which shall be nameless in case you might try to sue me.”
Jenny doubted that. “How often do you meet?”
“Not nearly enough!” Pam said, and the table broke into whoops of agreement. “Ideally, we’d like to get together four times a year, but that’s not always possible.”
“Lavinia—another guest—thought you ladies might be sorority sisters.”
“She’s right. We all met in college about a million years ago. We’ve been friends ever since.”
“You all have really impressive jobs.” Jenny forced a laugh. “Makes what I do seem so inconsequential?”
“Why?” Lisa asked, sounding puzzled.
“Working in a lumber yard doesn’t change the world.”
“Tell that to people who want to build homes,” Tracy pointed out.
“Do you like the work?” Pam asked.
“I do.”
“Can you support yourself?” Amy asked.
“I make good money.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Lisa asked.
Jenny gave an embarrassed laugh. “I guess there isn’t one.”
“Breakfast is served,” Blythe called, swooping into the dining room and carrying a large tray. She set it down at one of the nearby em
pty tables and doled out the plates with the promised Eggs Benedict. She even had one prepared for Jenny, who picked up her fork with trepidation. She’d never eaten the dish before.
“Can I get you ladies anything else?”
“More coffee?” Pam said hopefully.
“Of course.” Blythe picked up the carafe and the tray and headed back to the kitchen.
“I’ve never had Eggs Benedict before,” Jenny said.
“Then you’re in for a treat,” Amy said.
Jenny cut into the sauce covered egg, its bright yellow steaming yolk gushing out and soaking into the toasted English muffin beneath it. She had never eaten so runny a yolk, but as the other women were tucking in and moaning in ecstasy, she swallowed and took her first bite … and loved it. She chewed and swallowed. “Oh, wow—I never knew an egg could taste so good.”
“It’s the Hollandaise sauce,” Tracy said, and wiped a napkin around her mouth. “And this is the best I’ve ever tasted.”
“I made it myself,” Blythe said as she returned with the refilled pot and a new cup for Jenny.
“What makes it so special?” Tracy asked.
“Nothing. It’s just a standard recipe.”
“Well then, you make it better than anyone else on the planet.” Amy took another bite, closed her eyes, and moaned in ecstasy.
Blythe refilled their cups and retreated once again.
“What are your plans for today?” Lisa asked, looking straight at Jenny.
“I thought about driving around the island, but since the weather is so nasty, I think I’m going to stay in and read instead. It’s not something I get a lot of time to do at home.”
“We’re going shopping in Edgartown, if you’d like to join us,” Pam asked.
“Oh, that’s very sweet of you, but it sounds like you ladies only get a couple of days together a year. I don’t want to intrude.”
“You wouldn’t be intruding,” Lisa said, eyeing the plate filled with muffins.
Jenny hesitated. “Thank you, but I think I’ll stick with my plans. Besides, I’ll see you all at the tea this afternoon.”
“That’s right,” Lisa said. “I think I’d better stick to the eggs. I wonder what Blythe will serve. I bet it’ll be decadent.”
“She mentioned making a special cake. It sure smelled good,” Jenny offered.
“That’s a very pretty charm on your necklace,” Amy said. “Where did you get it?”
Jenny wasn’t up to explaining about her mother yet again. “It was special ordered.”
“I’ll bet my daughter would like one of those on her charm bracelet.”
I hope you live forever so she’ll never need to have one, Jenny thought.
“Before the end of the weekend, we’ve got to talk about my kitchen reno,” Tracy said, launching into a new topic of conversation. She ended up retrieving her iPad so that she could show everyone the Pinterest board she’d put together, eliciting everyone’s opinions and votes on tile, flooring, and even the brand of dishwasher she considered buying.
It was fun to see the dynamics among this band of long-time friends, and Jenny wished she had been blessed with such long-standing friendships. Well, she was a lot younger than them. Maybe she’d one day be able to claim the same experience.
All too soon breakfast was over and the women went back to their respective rooms to get ready for the big shopping expedition. Twenty minutes later, they called a cheery good-bye before trundling out in the rain with umbrellas borrowed from the manor.
The big lobby felt enormous and deadly quiet after the echoes of their laughter dissipated.
Jenny took her seat in front of the fire, which still seemed to be burning without ever having been restocked with wood, and sat down once again to read.
The clock ticked loudly.
It would be a long day until the other guests returned for afternoon tea.
She opened the book, returning to the story of a little girl, a garden, and how friendship saved not only her, but those she came to love the most.
6
Blythe fussed with the vase full of pink and white tulips that the local florist had delivered not ten minutes before, making sure they looked their loveliest for her guests. Everything looked perfect. She’d used her prettiest tablecloth, vintage china—a different setting at every place—the silver had been polished until it glowed, and now all she had to do was wait for her guests to file in.
Leaving the dining room, she hurried back to the kitchen to put the big kettle on the Aga. There would be three pots of tea on the table for the ladies to choose from; Earl Grey, black tea, and white tea. The sandwiches were egg with cress, and cucumber. Keeping to her garden theme, she’d made cookies with lavender, rose water, and cut-out cookies in the shape of daisies, sunflowers, and cherry blossoms.
Donning a fresh apron, Blythe decided that all was ready—and just in time, for she heard her first guests filing in the manor’s dining room: Lavinia and Maude.
“Did you have a nice day touring the island,” Blythe asked.
“Unfortunately, no. The unseasonable weather put a crimp in our plans,” Lavinia lamented.
“I’m so sorry.”
“That was partially our fault. We now understand why there is a season to come visit the island. We like what we saw enough to decide to come back during the summer—that is, if you aren’t already fully booked.”
“I’ll look through the reservations and let you know by tomorrow morning what’s still available.”
“We’d appreciate it,” Maude said, and turned her attention to the pretty table. “Everything looks so beautiful. Did you calligraphy these place cards yourself?”
“Yes. I hope you don’t mind, but I mixed up the names so that just about everyone would get to make a new friend.”
“What a wonderful idea,” Lavinia agreed. “Will sweet Jenny be joining us this afternoon?”
“Yes, I believe she mentioned to one of the other guests that she would.”
“Oh, good,” Maude said, “Because when Lavinia and I stopped at a gift shop, we decided to buy her a little something. Nothing big, just a token of friendship.”
“That’s very sweet of you.”
Lavinia set her large purse down on the chair before her name card and opened it, withdrawing a rectangular-shaped package wrapped in pretty, old-fashioned rose-patterned paper.
“Shall I set it on the sideboard?” Blythe asked.
“Yes, thank you,” She handed the parcel to Blythe who set it aside, but far enough from the stands where small candles would keep the teapots warm. “If you’d like to sit down, I’ll bring in the tea.”
By the time Blythe had set all three pots of tea on a tray, she heard more voices coming from the dining room. Two of the sorority sisters had arrived. They, too, held wrapped gifts.
“These are for Jenny,” Pam said, placing another two small packages on the sideboard.
“That was very thoughtful of you,” Blythe said. “The other ladies,” she indicated Lavinia and Maude, “also brought Jenny a gift.”
“I lost my mother a little over a year ago. For Jenny to have made this trip on her own—the one she and her mom were supposed to take together, and so soon after her mother’s death … well, I don’t think I would have been able to do it.”
“Me, either,” Tracy said.
Their other friends entered the dining room, and they, too, were carrying small wrapped packages. “Looks like great minds think alike,” Amy said as she and Lisa added their gifts to the pile.
Blythe introduced everyone, and then excused herself to put some soft, background music on the stereo. When she returned, she saw that Jenny had just arrived. She hurried to intercept her. “It looks like you’re the guest of honor.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It is your birthday,” Blythe whispered.
Jenny’s jaw dropped. “Yes, but—how did you know?”
“Caroline told me.”
Jenn
y did a classic double take.
“When she booked the reservation,” Blythe hurriedly explained. “Would it be all right if I told the others?”
“Oh. I—I don’t know. It might make everyone feel awkward.”
“Or it might give them something else to celebrate. Everybody loves a birthday party.”
Jenny looked unsure, and perhaps a little embarrassed. “Okay.”
Blythe beckoned Jenny forward. “Come and sit down.”
“Hey, there she is,” Pam called. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
“Sit here,” Blythe said, steering Jenny toward the only empty place at the table. “Would everyone like some tea?”
Blythe told them about the various teas, listened to their preferences, and began to pour.
Like her mother, Jenny asked for black tea. She picked up the cup. “Oh, what a pretty hummingbird. It’s gorgeous.” She looked down, delighted. “And the plate matches, too.”
“I thought you might like it.”
Jenny reached to grasp the hummingbird charm around her neck. “Thank you.”
Blythe poured the tea. “Would you ladies like to take a few minutes to enjoy your tea, or shall I bring out the sandwiches and scones?”
“It’s been an eternity since breakfast,” Lisa said. “I vote for food. Any other takers?”
The reply was unanimous, and Blythe retreated to the kitchen to retrieve the three-tiered plates she’d already assembled, plus the butter, clotted cream, and small pots of jam. When she returned, the reaction was universal.
“That looks heavenly. Where’s my camera?” Pam said.
“I’m going to put this on my Facebook page,” Lisa said, already aiming her cell phone at the plates nearest her.
“Instagram for me,” said Amy.
“We should encourage the ladies at church to put on a lovely tea, Maude,” said Lavinia, and she, too, was aiming her cell phone at one of the plates.
The room was suddenly filled with laughter and cameras clicking as everyone took pictures and selfies with their food before they sat down for the serious business of eating.
A Final Gift Page 3