by Jan Fields
She transplanted her flats of pansies into the wooden planters, and their bright little flower faces were only the tiniest bit downcast from the wait. Then she planted moss roses between the rocks that edged one corner of the huge yard.
As she slipped the delicate plants between the rocks, she marveled at the contrast between appearance and reality. Moss roses look so fragile, Annie thought, but they flourish in the harshest spots in the garden.
She thought about the moss roses on Gram’s tea set. As a girl, the delicate-looking tea set had been the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. She’d loved them so much that she made Alice use a mismatched cup and saucer she’d found, since her wild friend could be careless sometimes. Had Annie been valuing the wrong thing then?
Once or twice she wondered if Jim was still in town, or if he’d left with Alice. Surely she would stop and say goodbye, she thought.
One afternoon, she spent the better part of an hour sitting on the wide front porch with Boots in her lap. She gazed out at Butler’s Lighthouse and thought about three girls losing themselves in the dark. The tragedy of Jenny dying was the most horrible loss, but her mother had also lost her best friend. And she suspected Jo had lost the most of all. She’d lost herself.
“Hello, stranger!”
Annie turned her head sharply. Alice strode across the long yard from the far side where the carriage house nestled among the trees. She carried her needlework tote and a breadbasket wrapped in embroidered tea towels. Annie smiled at her friend. “I don’t know that I’m the one who’s kept busy lately,” she said.
Alice held up a hand. “Guilty as charged. And that’s why I’m here.” She sat down in the wicker chair next to Annie. Then she looked over the arm. “Is this the chair Wally fixed? It’s really comfortable.”
“It might be my new favorite,” Annie said, then she gestured to the sleeping cat in her lap. “Boots was sleeping in it when I walked out here so I took this one, but I guess a warm lap trumps a new chair cushion.”
Alice set the basket on the wicker table between them where a pitcher of iced tea already set between two glasses. “Two glasses?” Alice asked.
“I’m optimistic,” Annie said. Then she laughed and confessed. “Actually, yesterday I only brought one and a bug flew into it. So I brought a backup today.”
“Ewww!” Alice said, peering at the glasses. “Any bugs?”
“I don’t think so.”
Alice poured herself a glass of tea and offered Annie a muffin. “I finally made the blueberry-and-almond muffins I promised. They have a touch of lemon so they should be nice with the tea.”
Annie took a bite of the warm muffin and savored the blend of favors. Alice was a wonder at baking. “So you’re visiting and baking. How are you finding the time?”
“Jim finished the work he needed to do here and left for the West Coast,” Alice said. Annie looked at her wide-eyed, but Alice kept talking before her friend could launch into a barrage of questions. “He talked to Ms. Booth, and she decided he could include Jenny’s story as a kind of warning for young people about how dangerous legends can be—even without ghostly intervention. She even let him take a picture of Jenny’s doll laying on a rock. The photo came out fantastic, sort of chilling and sad and ominous all at the same time. Maybe Ian should make that photo into posters for the high school. It might cut down on teens tromping up that road in a storm.”
“Would it have kept you off the road?”
Alice thought about it for a moment, and then she shook her head. “No. I thought I was invincible.”
“The teenage delusion,” Annie agreed, leaning back.
“Jo asked me to tell you she’s back at the library, and she’d love to get together to talk about your mom, whenever you want.”
“I’d like that,” Annie said.
“And speaking of the library,” Alice held up the needlework bag, “I’ve been spending so much time with Jim, I have barely even started on the little embroidered shoes. I planned the design, but I was hoping you’d help me stitch it.”
“I’m not anywhere near as good as you at embroidery,” Annie protested.
“But you know all the stitches,” Alice said. “I’ve seen you use them on some of the baby blankets you’ve crocheted. The embroidery you did on Joanna’s sweater was lovely.”
“Great big embroidery with yarn or silk ribbon,” Annie said, “not itty-bitty embroidery with thread.”
“It’s the same technique,” Alice insisted, “and I promised to bring the shoes to Mary Beth this afternoon. I’m sunk without you. Please.” Alice stretched the word out until she sounded exactly like she did when they were kids, trying to talk Annie into some wild plan or other.
“I’ll be glad to help,” Annie said, “but let’s take them inside. I don’t want to chase bits of thread in the breeze.”
Annie set Boots down on the porch, eliciting a disgruntled meow from the ball of gray fluff. Then they gathered their things and headed into the house with Boots stalking indignantly behind them.
They settled comfortably on the living room sofa, and Annie turned her attention to the tiny shoe. Alice was right. She’d done all of the basic embroidery stitches before in yarn when she’d embellished afghans and baby blankets, and in silk ribbon on Joanna’s birthday sweater. Working with thread was just a bit more fidgety.
“You just have flowers and grasses on yours,” Alice said. “I put the robin from the book on the tongue of this shoe. I was finishing up on the little guy this morning. That’s when I realized I was never going to get these done in time.” She held up her tiny shoe where a satin-stitch robin peered at them curiously.
“He looks just like I always imagined the robin in The Secret Garden would look,” Annie said. “Like he’s about to ask a question.”
“Thanks,” Alice said. “That’s what I was going for. The robin was my favorite part of that book.”
The two women worked quietly for a while until Annie felt more confident with her stitching. “So, Jim’s gone, and you’re still here,” she said.
Alice looked up. “You’re surprised?”
“A little,” Annie admitted. “You two looked pretty cozy together.”
“Jim is a fantastic guy, and it was really nice to be with someone who wasn’t like … ” her voice trailed off as she bent her head over her stitching.
“Like John MacFarlane,” Annie said carefully. She knew Alice’s ex was still a touchy subject for her friend.
“Like him,” Alice agreed. “But I’m really content here in Stony Point. I love my home. I enjoy my work, and I’m proud of the business I’ve built up. I have fantastic friends who are really more like family than my real family.” She smiled warmly at Annie. “This is my home. As much as I enjoyed Jim’s company and admire who he is, I’m not ready to give up me in order to chase after someone else’s dreams. I liked having a man in my life, but I don’t want to give up my life for a man. You know what I mean?”
Annie nodded. “I think so.”
There was a long pause, and then Alice grinned at her. “But I have to tell you,” she said, “if Jim were still in town, the library doll would just have to wear plain white shoes.”
Annie laughed. “I’m glad to hear you still have your priorities in order.”
“You know it,” Alice said. Then she ducked her head back to her embroidery and asked, “Do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you have your priorities in order?” Alice asked. “It’s just that the twins’ birthday party is awfully close. Do you know what you’re going to do about Stony Point?”
Annie nodded. “I think so. I’m still getting my head around it, but I think so.”
“You’ll let me know when you get it settled?” Alice asked. “You know losing my best guy and my best friend in the same month would be tough on an old gal like me.”
“Old?” Annie laughed at that. “Of all the many adjectives anyone would pick to describe Alice MacFarlane
, old is not one of them.” Then Annie added, “I’ll let you know my decision soon. I have one more thing I have to check into.”
Just then Boots’ quizzical face appeared, peeking over the edge of the sofa. A furry paw darted out and snagged a skein of green floss before the cat took off. “Boots,” Annie scolded, “we need that.”
A minor chase around the living room followed that soon reduced both women to tears of laughter before Boots dropped the embroidery floss and raced out of the room in the direction of the kitchen. As they settled back down to finish the shoes, conversation stayed light and easy between them.
Finally, Annie finished the last stitch and carefully tied off the thread on the inside of the shoe. “Done!”
“Great.” Alice glanced at her watch. “And within the deadline. I’ll just run these into Mary Beth’s shop.”
“I’d like to go with you,” Annie said. “I think our mystery and this embroidery have inspired me. I have just enough time before I leave for Texas to make Joanna a rag doll to go with her birthday sweater. I’ve already finished a doll-sized sweater, but I’ll need to pick up a skein of thick yarn for the hair and the fabric for the doll.”
“That’s a great idea.”
“I also need to stop by Mr. Proctor’s office,” Annie said as she gathered her purse and slipped on some flats.
“The lawyer?”
Annie nodded. “I have some questions to ask him about an idea I’m considering. I’ve just been so caught up in the mystery; but I think Jenny’s mystery might have helped me to solve another one.”
“Oh?”
“The mystery of what I want.”
21
Though the beautifully decorated ranch house had large rooms, it seemed almost tiny when packed with ten rambunctious six-year-olds and assorted parents. Most of the adults clumped together in groups of two or three, and sipped lemonade from tall, narrow glasses while keeping sharp eyes on the children.
A little girl wearing a rose-color sweater over her blue sundress trotted across the large family room. Her silky blonde hair was pulled up into two pigtails that bounced as she walked. She reached the loveseat at the corner of the room and held up her new rag doll, her sparkling green eyes worried. “Could you tie Betsy’s hair ribbon back, Gramma? My bows aren’t as pretty as yours.”
“I think you tie great bows,” Annie said as she slipped the rose-color ribbon back through a hank of the doll’s creamy yellow yarn hair. “Look how nice your sneakers look.”
Joanna leaned close and whispered, “Mama tied them.”
“You know, sweetie,” Annie said as she looked at the little girl’s pink face, “you don’t have to wear that sweater now. It’s a little hot for it.”
Joanna looked horrified at the suggestion that she take off her new sweater. “It makes me and Betsy match!” Then she gave her grandmother a delicate kiss on the cheek, followed by one from Betsy, and marched back to where the girl half of the birthday party was gathered. The girls were having pretend tea with the moss-rose tea set Annie had given Joanna as a gift from her Great-Great-Grandma Betsy. So far, the tea set was holding up very well.
Annie suspected that the gift of the tea set had inspired the rag doll’s name. Annie thought of how happy it would make Gram to see her doll-loving great-great-granddaughter sitting down to the tea party. “I guess it skips a few generations sometimes, Gram,” Annie whispered as she watched Joanna set the doll carefully on a small chair and offer her a sip from the delicate-looking teacup.
“Mrs. Dawson, could you tell me where you got that darling boat?”
Annie turned to face a young woman with a round cheerful face and a stylish blue dress. “A friend in Stony Point made it for me,” Annie said.
“Do you think your friend would take orders?” the woman asked. “My Andre said he wanted one for his birthday. It’s at the end of summer. Do you think I could get one?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Annie said. “It’s all handmade though, so it’s quite pricey.”
The young woman waved that away. “Quality is worth the price. Does the artist have a website?”
Annie laughed aloud. “No, I don’t think he even has a computer, but I’m not sure. If you’ll write down your name and number, I’ll give you a call when I get back to Stony Point and give you all the information about the boat.”
“That would be wonderful,” the woman gushed as she rooted in her purse for a scrap of paper and a pen.
Annie’s eyes turned back to the twins as the woman wrote out her name and number, still talking about what an amazing job Wally did on the boat’s details. Annie decided not to tell her about Emily’s contribution of licked popsicle sticks. Somehow, she doubted the trendy young mother would see that as a plus.
A group of five boys, with Annie’s grandson, John, in the center, were gathered around the boat. One of the boys held the whale Annie had found in a Stony Point shop and included with John’s gift. Clearly the whale was attempting some kind of sneak attack on the lobster boat.
Three of the other boys held the crewmen that Annie had found in the same toy store as the whale. The men were running around the deck in a panic at the approaching whale. Captain John was shouting nautical-sounding orders to the crew as he clutched his captain figure.
Annie was glad her gifts were such a hit. They were all a team effort. She never would have come up with such a wonderful model boat in the shops of Brookfield. The very idea for the boat had come from Ian. She wouldn’t have thought to make a doll without her mother’s careful saving of Jenny’s doll. She wouldn’t have managed the lovely sweaters without the help of Kate and Mary Beth.
“Some of the other moms asked about the boat too,” the young woman said suddenly, breaking into Annie’s thoughts. “Should I collect their names? Do you think your friend could do more than one boat?”
“I think he would like that,” Annie said.
“I’m underlining my name though,” she said, and then she whispered, “I asked first.”
Annie nodded, smiling at the suggestion that she was “calling dibs” on the first boat. Wally would enjoy knowing he was so wildly popular that women in Texas would fight over him. The young woman hurried across the room to a group of other moms.
“You know, I still hate being reminded that you’re going back to Stony Point,” LeeAnn said as she stepped up beside her mother.
Annie turned to look at her daughter. She had the same fair hair that Annie thought of as a trait of the Holden women. LeeAnn was a bit taller than Annie, but they looked a lot alike, though LeeAnn lacked the sprinkling of gray that ran through Annie’s own shoulder-length blond hair. “Stony Point has done a lot for me,” Annie said. “I was in a giant holding pattern here after your father died. In Stony Point, I feel like I’m finally starting to heal.”
LeeAnn nodded. “I can see it. I could see it when you got off the plane. Your feet don’t drag anymore. And your smile doesn’t look so sad.” She shrugged and turned to look at the children. “But I miss you, Mom. I want the kids to know you as they grow up. I want us to stay close.”
“I miss you too,” Annie said. “But you know, there is no reason we can’t stay close. Now that I’ve decided where to live, I don’t have to hide from Brookfield any more. We can make plans for when I’ll visit here, and when you’ll bring the children to visit me.”
“Mom,” LeeAnn said, shaking her head in resignation, “you know what Herb’s schedule is like.”
Annie nodded. “I knew what your dad’s schedule was like too. And I let him work so much that work was our life. Your dad loved the car lot, and I did too, for his sake. But now … well, I wish I’d dragged him away to Stony Point now and then. Just be careful that you don’t end up with a lot of wishes that can’t come true, LeeAnn.”
Her daughter nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
Annie knew she wouldn’t get any clearer commitment than that, so she let it drop and turned her eyes back to the children. The two
women watched the battle between lobster boat and whale for a moment. Then LeeAnn said, “You certainly made Pastor Mitchell happy. I thought he would explode in church this morning waiting for announcement time to tell everyone about the missionary retreat.”
Annie nodded. Just then, John raced over to Annie. He pointed back at the group of other boys. “What kind of whale is that?”
“A fin whale,” Annie said, remembering what the shopkeeper had told her. She’d known John would want to know all the facts, so she’d memorized them carefully. “They’re the second largest whale in the world, and the largest you’re likely to spot off the coast of Maine.”
“Do they have teeth?” John asked.
“No,” Annie said. “They’re called baleen whales because they have a kind of sieve in their mouths called a baleen. It lets them sift tiny bits of food out of the water.”
John nodded. “I thought so.” He stomped back toward the group, shouting, “It could not eat the captain. It doesn’t have teeth!”
Annie and LeeAnn laughed. “Maybe I should have bought him some sharks too,” Annie said. “You know, the mayor of Stony Point said he’d get his brother to take us on a whale watch when you bring the kids out for a visit. I can check and see what the best times of year are … ”
“You check,” LeeAnn said, “but I’m not making any promises. You drove me crazy with wondering for almost a year. I think you can dangle for a few weeks while we work out a holiday schedule.”
“That seems fair,” Annie said.
“But whenever we do come,” LeeAnn said, “no mysteries.”
“I can’t make any promises about that,” Annie said, laughing again. “The mysteries are never my idea. They just happen when I least expect them.”
LeeAnn reached out and gave her mother a hug. “Then I’ll just have to accept that my mom is a mystery magnet who lives in Maine.” She sighed and laid her head on her mother’s shoulder. Annie hugged her back, completely and totally happy.