by Jan Fields
“Well, I’d certainly say that seems like a strong possibility,” Jim said. “But it could just be a coincidence. Sometimes a given name can be very popular in a specific geographic region. You wouldn’t believe how many guys named Jim I went to school with.”
“That’s not my only clue,” Annie said. She picked up the doll and held it as she spoke. “As I was finishing up in the Reference Room, I heard someone call out from the front desk. Josephine had collapsed in the children’s room while she was setting up the old toys display. This doll—Jenny’s doll—lay beside her on the floor.”
“Is she going to be OK?” Alice asked.
“Grace seemed to think so,” Annie said. “Apparently Josephine is hypoglycemic. She mentioned it when I was talking to her, and she seemed a little shaky. So it might have been another coincidence that she happened to be holding this doll when she collapsed, but it also might be the doll that brought it on.”
“Sounds like you’re not quite done with the mysteries,” Alice said.
Annie sighed. “Maybe I should be. If Josephine is Jo, then maybe she doesn’t want to have her little sister’s death dug up and put in a book. If the past is too painful, doesn’t she have a right to keep her own secrets?”
Alice shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you think you can just walk away and not know?”
“Look,” Jim said, “I think we need to ask the woman. I don’t want to include anything in the book that’s going to hurt someone. I can leave Jenny out entirely or put a vague reference that doesn’t reveal anything. I want to make the best book possible, but not at the expense of real people. That’s not how I work.”
Annie reached over and rested her hand briefly on Jim’s. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“So it sounds like we need to make a trip to the hospital,” Alice said. “Then we’ll just leave it up to Josephine.”
Annie nodded as Peggy showed up with loaded plates. As Peggy set the plates in front of Jim and Alice, Annie’s eyes turned back to the window. A cloud passed in front of the sun just as she looked out, throwing the street in a brief shadow. Annie shivered, hoping that wasn’t a premonition of the confrontation that lay in front of her.
19
After the food arrived, discussion turned to more pleasant subjects, or at least different ones. Jim launched into stories about some of the Northwest lighthouses.
“Off the coast of Oregon,” Jim said, “there is a lighthouse that sits on a hunk of basalt rock right out in the water. The coastline gets so foggy, they decided that putting a lighthouse out in the water was the best idea. Unfortunately, that hunk of rock was cursed.”
“Oh,” Alice said, as she nibbled her bacon. “A curse?”
“The native people of the area said evil spirits lived on the rock. And apparently just building the thing helped stock it with ghosts. The surveyor for the site drowned. It wasn’t exactly an auspicious beginning. Apparently more workmen died during construction.”
“So those would all be pre-lighthouse ghosts,” Alice said.
“But still fierce ones,” Jim said. “Anyway, they had to send lighthouse keepers out there for only a few months at a time. One guy who stayed a little too long went crazy from the loneliness … or maybe from something else.”
“Sounds like a fun place for a vacation,” Alice said.
“If you come with me,” Jim said, “I’ll show you all the best spots.”
Alice laughed at that, and Annie felt a small gush of relief followed by guilt. Apparently Alice hadn’t made up her mind yet, and even though Annie wanted her friend to be happy, it was hard not to hope her final answer would be no.
Jim was an excellent storyteller, but Annie still found her mind wandering more and more as he talked. She knew she needed to give Josephine Booth time to settle in at the hospital, but she was eager to get the meeting with the woman over with, before her nerves grew any worse.
Alice laid her fork down on her empty plate with the small ringing sound of metal on china. “I think we lost Annie.”
Annie looked up sharply at the sound of her name. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just worried about Ms. Booth.”
“Why don’t you ladies head on over and see if you can visit with her,” Jim said. “I suspect she’ll be more open to a visit from two lovely ladies than from a ruffian like me. Let me know what she wants to do about Jenny, if indeed she was her sister.”
“We will,” Alice said.
Jim stood to let Alice out of the booth, and Annie stood up, reaching into her purse for money to pay her check. “Don’t bother with that,” Jim said. “I’ll take care of the check after I have a slice of pie.”
“Pie for breakfast?” Annie said.
Jim shrugged. “It’s fruit. Fruit makes a healthy breakfast food.”
“Don’t get him started,” Alice said, “or he’ll tell you why chocolate cake makes a great lunch.”
“I don’t remember you arguing too hard about that one yesterday at lunch,” Jim reminded her.
Alice laughed and shook her head. She gave Jim a quick peck on the cheek and whispered something in his ear before leading the way out of the diner. Annie caught sight of Peggy grinning from ear to ear and knew the curious waitress had caught that little public display of affection.
“Shall we take my car or yours?” Alice asked.
“Let’s take yours,” Annie said. “I’m a little too distracted to drive. And I’m getting used to the feeling of wind in my hair.”
“We’ll make an adventurer out of you yet, Annie Dawson,” Alice said, giving her friend a quick hug.
The drive to the hospital was smooth; tourist traffic hadn’t yet begun to clog up the roads with people unsure of the area. Annie enjoyed looking at the houses they passed with their tidy yards and bright spring flowers. After a few minutes, she turned to Alice. “Have you decided if you’re going with Jim?”
“Are we talking about the high school version of ‘going with?’” Alice asked innocently.
“Actually, I’m talking about whether you’re leaving with him for the West Coast.”
Alice flashed her a wicked grin. “Have you decided if you’re going to stay in Texas when you go back for the birthday party?”
Annie groaned. “Not completely. One minute I’m sure I belong here. Then something happens, and I wonder … ”
“Wonder what?” Alice asked when Annie let the sentence drop.
“Wonder if I’ve made more trouble than I’m worth since I got here,” Annie said. “All I seem to do is poke into hornets’ nests. Stella was ready to have me flogged for asking questions the first week I got here, if she could have found someone still handing out public floggings. Harry Stevens practically dropped a boulder on my head to keep me out of his family’s business. And now I may have put poor Josephine Booth in the hospital.”
“First of all, Stella is now delighted that you brought her past out in the open so she could heal,” Alice said. “And with Ian’s help, you brought honor back to Harry’s family. And finally, you don’t even know for sure that Ms. Booth’s collapse had anything to do with you. The poor woman might have just needed a sandwich.”
Annie blinked back tears and looked rigidly at the road ahead. “We don’t know that I didn’t cause her collapse either.”
“Annie,” Alice said gently, “sometimes you have to clean out a wound to get it to heal, and while that’s never pleasant, you’ve helped put a lot of people on the road to healing since you got here. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”
Except maybe Josephine Booth, Annie thought, but she didn’t say anything.
Alice pulled into the parking lot of the small brick hospital and quickly found a parking space in the visitor’s lot. Annie tucked the rag doll into her purse and followed Alice’s focused stride across the smooth asphalt and through the huge sliding doors.
Two elderly ladies in pink sat behind the front information desk. The smaller of the two looked up at Annie and Alice with eager eyes. “M
ay we help you?” she asked in a cheerful chirp.
“Yes,” Alice said. “We’re here to visit Josephine Booth. She came in this morning.”
The woman smiled and turned to squint at the computer screen. She pecked at a few keys nervously, as if she was unsure of what the computer might do in response. Finally, she said, “Room 214. You’ll find the elevator right down this hall and to the right.”
“Thank you,” Annie said as Alice began a quick walk to the elevator. She nearly had to trot to catch up. “Alice, when did this become a race?”
“I thought a brisk approach would keep you from thinking too much,” Alice said. “How’s it working?”
“Pretty well, assuming I don’t collapse in a heap and end up in an adjoining room to Ms. Booth.”
“Think of how much the two of you could talk then.”
But Alice relented and slowed down to a more normal pace, giving Annie a chance to look around. She’d rarely been to the hospital here. The building was old, and the brick walls had the softened edges of many layers of paint. Right now everything was painted a cheerful pale blue. Along the wall, she saw framed photos of lobster boats bobbing next to weathered docks interspersed among lovely pieces of antique needlework, also framed.
The carpet was a lovely dark blue-green and looked new, but when they reached the elevator, Annie could see the building’s age again in the ancient doors that opened with an ominous rumble. Once inside, they lurched up to the second floor and waited an unusually long time for the doors to finally heave open again. Annie decided she might use the stairs on the way out.
The door to Room 214 stood open. Annie peeked inside and saw the white-haired woman alone in the room, sitting upright in her hospital bed with the covers folded neatly down to her lap. She stared out the window near the bed and only turned to face them when Annie knocked.
“Yes?” the older woman said, looking at Annie and Alice curiously.
“Hi, I’m Annie Dawson. We met at the library this morning. I was still in the library when you had your accident, and I wanted to stop by and see if you needed anything.” She took a hesitant step into the room. “This is my friend, Alice MacFarlane.”
Alice nodded and mumbled something polite, clearly leaving the conversation to Annie.
“That’s very kind of you both,” Ms. Booth said politely. “Please come in. They’ve told me I have to stay here overnight for observation. That’s so silly. I’m just fine.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Annie said.
Annie walked across the room quickly, and the two women looked at one another awkwardly for a moment. “I have a question to ask you,” Annie said.
Josephine folded her hands in her lap and nodded.
“Were you one of the Wild Jays?” Annie asked.
Josephine Booth winced, and then nodded her head with a small smile. “I haven’t heard those words in many years.”
“So you were?” Annie said. “You were my mother’s best friend, Jo?”
Tears filled the old woman’s eyes. “I don’t know that your mother would have described me that way. I was very unkind to her once.”
“She described you exactly that way,” Annie said. “I’ve read her journal.” Then she gently slipped the rag doll from her purse. “Is this what upset you at the library?”
Josephine Booth reached out a trembling hand to touch the hem of the doll’s dress, then let her hand drop back into her lap. “Matilda. Where did you find her?”
“My mother put her in Gram’s attic,” Annie said. “In her journal, she said she was going to keep her for you, in case you ever decided you wanted her.”
“That sounds like Judy,” the old woman said. “She wouldn’t believe there might be something a person just never gets over. She was always trying to make things better.”
“I know about Jenny’s accident,” Alice whispered.
“It should never have happened,” Josephine said. “I was the big sister. I was supposed to watch out for her.” She turned away toward the window again as tears ran down her face. “I failed her.”
“You weren’t much more than a child yourself,” Annie said, “and you were doing something teens have done for a long time. The mayor caught two girls up there just last night. You couldn’t have known what would happen.”
“I should have!” Josephine repeated stubbornly. “I should have kept her safe. I … I laughed at her for being afraid.”
“I have a little sister,” Alice said gently, stepping up beside Annie. “She always wanted to tag along with me, and I teased her terribly for being little and scared sometimes. That’s what big sisters do. You couldn’t have known how it would end. You didn’t do anything we haven’t all done—make a mistake.”
“My mother never forgave me,” Josephine said, “and she never got over it.”
“That still doesn’t make it your fault,” Alice said.
“It wasn’t Judy’s fault either,” Josephine whispered. “But I blamed her. I said horrible things to her. After that, I couldn’t even think about her without reliving that night.” She looked at Annie. “Does Judy’s journal say if she ever forgave me?”
“She was never angry with you,” Annie said. “She just hurt for you. She felt guilty and sad that she couldn’t help.”
Josephine nodded. “I think I might like to keep Jenny’s doll.”
Annie handed it to her, and the older woman straightened the doll’s long thick hair gently. “Our Nona—our grandmother—made this for Jenny. Jenny was her favorite. She always said I was too noisy and too bold.”
“My mother admired your boldness tremendously,” Annie said. “You know, a horrible accident leaves everyone involved with pain, plagued by thoughts of what they should have done. She felt that way too. She felt like she’d failed you.”
Josephine Booth nodded sadly with her eyes on the little doll. “Once this doll represented everything I thought I didn’t have. I wasn’t the favorite of my grandmother. Then, it was just a reminder of my loss. Now, I think I can see why Jenny loved this little doll so much. When she held it, it reminded Jenny that she was truly and deeply loved. Now it can remind me of how much I loved my little sister.” Her voice grew ragged and she whispered, “And how much I miss her.”
Annie squeezed the old woman’s hand. “I’m so sorry.”
Josephine nodded, her eyes still on the rag doll. She tugged at the apron, and then pointed at the ragged embroidery. “I did that.” She looked up at Annie. “Your grandfather called Judy and me ‘Wild Jays’ because our names both started with J and because of the wild schemes we got into. Most of them were my ideas, but Judy could hold her own. We got into trouble together from the time we were little. Did your mother’s journal say how we met?”
Annie shook her head.
“There was a new child at school. He was in my class, but I didn’t pay him much attention. Some of the other boys were picking on him one day, knocking his books on the ground and pushing him. Judy marched right up to them—and she was just a first grader. She got in their faces and told them that being bullies shamed their mamas.” Josephine smiled and shook her head. “A couple of the boys backed down. But the biggest one—he didn’t like being scolded by a little girl. He gave her a push and yelled at her. So I knocked him down and made him eat dirt.”
“Good for you,” Alice said.
“I was tall for my age,” Josephine said a bit sheepishly. “And you know what Judy did?”
Annie and Alice shook their heads.
“She told me that I shouldn’t fight. Then she gave me the cupcake her mother had put in her lunch. We were best friends from that moment on.” Josephine looked into Annie’s eyes. “I loved your mother.”
“And she loved you,” Annie said.
The older woman blinked away tears and turned her eyes back to the doll. “Judy and I made Jenny an honorary Wild Jay,” Josephine said. “I embroidered that on the apron as proof.”
“That probably made Jenny very
happy.”
The older woman nodded, and her tear-filled eyes dropped to the doll again. “But I think it also made her feel like she had to live up to us. Be just as brave. Be just as foolish. She fixated on the lighthouse because it seemed like the bravest thing anyone could do.”
The room fell quiet as the older woman slipped away into her memories. Finally, Annie laid a gentle hand on her arm. “We should go and let you rest.”
Josephine looked up, startled. She’d forgotten them. “Maybe we could talk again sometime. I would like to tell you more about your mother.”
“I would like that too,” Annie said. “I loved my mother dearly, but I feel like I’m only just beginning to meet her.”
“You’re very much like her, I think,” Josephine said. “I’ll tell you stories. But I am feeling a little tired now.”
“Of course,” Annie said, backing away from the bed.
“Ms. Booth?” Alice said tentatively.
“Please call me Jo,” the older woman said.
“Thank you. Annie and I have a friend. He’s doing a book about the lighthouse and about the stories surrounding it. He knows about Jenny, but he doesn’t want to do anything that would hurt anyone. Would you think about whether he could mention Jenny in the book?”
Jo looked at Alice and then Annie solemnly. “Do you trust this friend?”
Alice nodded. “He’s a good person.”
“Perhaps I could chat with him,” Jo said. “Maybe it’s been too long since Jenny’s been remembered. If he could tell it the right way.”
“He would like to come and talk to you about it.”
Jo smiled, and Annie could see how tired the old woman looked. “Good. Not tonight, though. I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day.”
“No, not tonight,” Alice agreed. Then she patted the old woman’s hand and added. “I’m glad to have met you. Good night.”
20
The next few days passed quietly for Annie. She still felt a bit raw, and even though her “mystery” was technically over, she didn’t feel settled. So she stayed close to Grey Gables and busied herself with little things while she thought. A couple of times she thought about driving into town and having a talk with Ian about their friendship, but finally decided to simply let it go.