by Dana Mentink
“Sis,” Cy said. “You can’t apply carpet tiles with people traipsing all over the inn.”
“There will be a lull. How many people could possibly be interested in this tiny town, anyway?”
Even before he swept aside the curtain for her, she knew the answer. Neighboring Half Moon Bay held an annual Pumpkin Festival, which brought in thousands of visitors from all along the coast. But Tumbledown wasn’t Half Moon Bay, she thought hopefully.
As she glanced down to the ocean, she saw dozens of oddly decorated boats heading for the cove. The cluck of chickens wafted through the air, the sound of disgruntled birds whose coop was being invaded by children. Laughter and the murmur of conversation filtered up from the kitchen.
“My carpet tiles are going to have to wait, aren’t they?” she moaned.
“Good things come to those who wait, I’ve heard. Come on. Let’s go get some cocoa. Will there be breakfast too, do you think?” he asked as he pulled the sweatshirt over his head.
“Don’t give Bitsy any ideas, or she’ll start scrambling eggs for the masses.” Rosa closed the door behind her as she left her brother to change.
A few minutes later they found Manny ladling the cocoa while Bitsy calmed a tiny visitor in the foyer who had been unprepared to meet a dog of Baggy’s unusual appearance. Bitsy crouched next to the child and Baggy hunkered, tail wagging, trying to present his most attractive side to the wee one. The mother spoke reassuringly to her child, but her own expression was dubious.
“See?” Bitsy said. “He’s got a tail and everything. He really is a dog.”
Keep at it, Baggy, Rosa thought. You’ll win them over.
Cy jumped into the role of marshmallow dispenser, so Rosa headed for the sitting room where she found Pike eyeing the painter’s tape on the walls.
“Is it time?” he asked. “I’m dying to see how this is going to look.”
She tried not to show it, but she was as eager as he to see the finished product. “You take one end and I’ll get the other.”
With the utmost care, they each peeled off an end of the first piece of tape, and inch by inch, worked their way to the middle until the last bit came loose. They repeated the process for every strip. Without a word, they stepped back to the far side of the room to take it in.
Perfect. It was perfect. The pearly gray was soothing, welcoming, and the wider and narrower stripes of mossy green spoke of tranquility and peace. Elegant, rich in style and comfort, a room worthy of Mr. Herzberg and the Pelican.
She let out a breath. “I think, Mr. Matthews, that we’ve hit a home run.”
His mouth was open in wonder. “You know, I never would have dreamed up an idea like this, but it’s transformative.” He looked at her. “You really are amazing.”
She laughed. “Thank you. And thanks for your help.”
“My pleasure,” he said, putting his hand in hers. Her pulse ticked up a notch until she moved away to fiddle with the drop cloth.
“I sort of disrespected you earlier, made fun of the decorating thing,” he said, voice low. “I didn’t realize how much talent and vision it took to do something like this. I apologize.”
She might have distrusted the words, but the sincerity that shone in his eyes transfixed her. He respected what she had done, and it made her want to throw her arms around him and forget everything.
He embraced her suddenly. Her body was moving into the circle of his arms like a planet circling the sun, when there was a tremendous crash. Instinctively, Rosa threw up her hands, as if to protect her walls from the forces of evil.
“It came from the kitchen,” Pike said, already running toward the sound.
Manny was standing next to an overturned chair, a pool of spilled cocoa on the floor.
“Dad,” Rosa gasped.
Cy emerged from the hallway. “Pops, are you okay?”
“What happened?” Rosa said. “Are you hurt?”
“Naw,” Manny said. “Good thing it wasn’t too hot, though. I was starting another batch. Spooned up a mugful to taste, but something startled me and I knocked it over and upset the chair.”
Baggy scampered in and set to work lapping the cocoa.
“Stop him,” Cy said. “Chocolate is bad for dogs.”
“He already had a lick this morning,” Rosa said.
Pike did his best to corral Baggy, but the wily animal managed to lap up several mouthfuls before he was detained. Pike held him like a live grenade. “Here,” he said, handing the dog to Rosa.
“What startled you?” Pike demanded. “Another squirrel?”
Manny shot a look at Pike and then at Rosa. “Can’t quite remember.” His eyes narrowed.
He remembered, all right. Rosa suspected he’d gotten an eyeful of Pike starting to embrace her and decided to put a stop to it before she’d done it herself. Rosa’s face went molten. “I’ll get a mop to clean up the mess.”
“It’s like a Saturday-morning cartoon,” Bitsy said as she arrived in the kitchen. “There’s cocoa all over the floor and your overalls, Pike.”
Pike’s white overalls were now spattered with brown from Baggy’s wet paws. They looked out the window to see a line of curious people, peering through the kitchen window, waiting for their allotment of cocoa.
“Still think it’s a good idea to put down your carpet tiles?” Cy said.
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea to stay in town,” Rosa replied.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE PARADE OF PEOPLE touring the coop and enjoying the cocoa subsided to a trickle by the afternoon. Rosa had a fleeting thought of starting the bathroom project when she caught sight of her work crew assembled at the front door.
Even Baggy scampered up to sit expectantly on Manny’s feet, eyeing Rosa intently.
“What?” she said.
Rocky and Stu strolled out of the kitchen. “Left a thermos of cocoa and the bag of marshmallows out on the porch with some mugs,” Rocky said.
“That should tide them over until tomorrow morning,” Bitsy said, linking her arm through Manny’s. “Shall we go to the festival? They’re expecting me to make an appearance at the flower judging.”
“I would be delighted,” Manny said, giving a courtly bow as he escorted her through the door.
“But...” Rosa started.
“Come on, sis,” Cy said, scooping Baggy up. “It’s a beautiful day and you aren’t going to get anything done, anyway. Loosen up and have some fun.”
He followed Rocky and Stu outside.
Pike offered his own arm. “May I escort you to the festivities?”
Manny shot him a scalding look.
“Um, sure, I’ll go, but I don’t need an escort,” Rosa said.
Pike gestured with his hand. “After you.”
The parking lot of the Pelican was jam-packed with cars, and the road leading into town was similarly filled wherever a spot on the shoulder afforded a parking place. There was no choice but to walk the two miles to Main Street. They crowded onto the pedestrian path, joining the stream of visitors sporting tiny tots in backpacks, pushing jogging strollers, and walking with larger children clutching sand buckets and shovels.
Caught up in the tide of cheerful hikers, Rosa basked in the exquisite ocean air and the duck-egg blue of the sky. The crisp morning had given way to the perfect central-coast afternoon. She glanced back over her shoulder at the silhouette of the Pelican, oddly delicate against the cloudless sky. Its weather vane clacked in the grip of the breeze, its spire standing strong, if a wee bit askew.
Pike followed her gaze. “I’ll be sorry to see her go, too,” he said.
“Actually, I was daydreaming about Mr. Herzberg and how he must have been thinking about his wife when he first saw this spot and decided to build here.”
“It
does sort of get inside you, this place,” he said, his eyes clouding over. “And it’s going to hurt to lose it.”
The sound of the surf gurgled through the air. “When we lived in Tumbledown before my mom died, I remember your family’s beach cookouts. Your parents used to invite the whole town and have a hot dog roast.”
“Good times, weren’t they? I think Bitsy loved those parties as much as my dad. That woman could make an entrance. I always thought that if I had a sibling, I’d want to be as close as Bitsy and my father were.” The wind pulled at his painter’s cap, so he tugged it more firmly over his forehead. “Your family stopped coming to our hot dog roasts after the first few. Why?”
“I think you know.” She sighed. “My mother was not often fit company, and then after my dad started his investigation...”
He nodded. “Everything fell apart. My mom sort of became a hermit after that. Still is, I guess. Bitsy and dad hosted the hot dog roasts a few more times, but it was never the same.”
“I haven’t thought about it before, but it must have been so hard for Bitsy to take us in, the children of the guy who hurt her brother.”
“Bitsy’s never held a grudge against any man in her life. Women are another story, but she always tried to defend Manny and support my dad at the same time. She’s generous, that way. Too generous.”
An ugly thought crept into Rosa’s mind. “You said your father’s business fell off after Poppy’s Dream went down.”
“Yes, but it was heading that way long before the boat sank.”
“Pike, did Bitsy try to bail your father out of financial trouble?”
He stiffened, shoving his hands in his pockets. “He didn’t let Bitsy ruin herself for him. My dad had some pride, Rosa.”
“I didn’t mean that.” She kicked herself. “I’m sorry. It was a dumb thing to say.”
He rubbed a hand over his chin and let out a deep breath. “Not so dumb.” For a moment, he watched a lizard scrabbling along the rock wall that edged the path as they got closer to town. “I might as well tell you the truth. She mortgaged the inn to pay for my law school tuition.”
Rosa’s mouth fell open. “Oh, wow. I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I didn’t know it, either, until I was almost done with school. I thought the tuition payments were coming out of a fund my parents had built for me over the years, but then I found out that money was long gone. I bussed tables and did some bookkeeping on the side to help out, but it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough to cover the cost of my schooling. I was mortified. I tried so hard to keep anyone from finding out, especially my classmates.”
A family of joggers pressed by and Pike and Rosa crowded to the side to let them pass.
“A real ego blow.” Rosa considered. It was harder to fall from the higher strata than never to have been within reach of it in the first place.
“Yes,” he said. “Took my pride down a few notches. Bitsy paid for me to become a lawyer, so you see why I have to make sure she is financially taken care of, why I can’t let her hold on to an inn that’s gradually stripping away her future. She has to sell the Pelican while it’s still in decent shape. Every year that goes by sinks her deeper into debt. She doesn’t know how to save money—she never has, and neither did Leo. And now there’s no money coming in to squirrel away, anyhow.”
Rosa eyed her aunt, who was some distance ahead. “She lives like she doesn’t have a problem in the world.”
“I know, and she’s never made me feel the slightest bit guilty for law school. I’ve paid most of it back, but it just seems every available dollar is used up for repairs and insurance, earthquake retrofitting, etcetera.” He shook his head. “The upgrades are more costly because she had to put them off for so many years, thanks to my Harvard bill.”
“You can’t blame yourself. You didn’t know.”
“I didn’t know a lot of things.”
In a rush of tenderness, Rosa wanted to ease the strain she saw in his face, the invisible burden he carried across his wide shoulders. But what could she offer when her own family had cost his so much? She wished she hadn’t accused him of being self-serving. At least he’d made it, become the lawyer everyone respected.
Music drifted through the air, the happy tunes of the high school band playing with enthusiasm somewhere down on the beach. Manny took Bitsy’s hand and helped her around the barricade at the end of Main Street. Sunlight caught the white of his hair and the shimmering pearl of hers, and a peal of laughter drifted back to Pike and Rosa.
Pike’s expression hardened. “They’re really getting to be good pals. I hadn’t noticed how good.”
“They’re friends from way back,” she said lightly. “Hey, how about you let me buy you a hot dog? Just for old time’s sake, since I missed most of the beach cookouts?”
He flashed a smile that seemed only a little forced. “Why not?”
She bought two hot dogs and sliced off a tiny bit of the end of her own before she slathered it with mustard, ketchup and relish. Pike took a bite of his, plain without condiments. “How can you even taste it after you put all that goo on the top?”
“I have very discerning taste buds. They aren’t distracted by toppings.” Before she devoured her own greasy treat, she called Cy over and offered Baggy the little piece she had removed. Baggy gobbled it happily and gave her a lick on the chin by way of thanks.
Cy frowned. “Are hot dogs good for canines?”
“The jury’s still out on whether or not Baggy qualifies as fully canine. And besides, it’s his afternoon off.”
Cy shook his head. “Softie. I’m going down to check out the sand sculptures. Catch you later.”
She didn’t have a chance to pin him down on an exact time for resuming work on the inn. “Be sure to keep him away from Dragon,” she called.
Bitsy and Manny ducked into the grandly named Tumbledown Historical Society office, which was actually a storage room connected to the back of Julio’s bookstore.
Pike finished his hot dog and followed them. A slight wave of tension quivered up Rosa’s spine as she scarfed the rest of her snack and followed suit.
The small room was decorated with poster-board displays of old black-and-white photos showing Tumbledown as it had been at the turn of the century. The pictures captured the slow transformation of the town from rural agricultural land that had once been part of the sprawling Mission San Francisco de Asis, to the ranchos that gave way to a thriving fishing industry and finally the birth of the small town. Julio had even managed to acquire some photos of the rumrunners who took advantage of the coastal fog and hidden coves to supply their illicit wares to restaurants and inns during Prohibition.
Julio padded over to them, beaming. “Welcome, welcome. People have been packing in to see the amazing Herzberg letters. We are thinking of issuing tickets to stem the unbridled masses.”
Rosa looked around, wondering where the unbridled masses happened to be keeping themselves. At the moment, there was only one elderly couple perusing some old maps that were safely ensconced between two sheets of Plexiglas.
“Go enjoy. Pay particular attention to the third letter. So poignant, so perfectly preserved, except for a missing section that was eaten by that dastardly squirrel. Squirrels,” he said with a shudder. “Like tree-climbing rats with bushier tails.”
Bitsy and Manny were already standing close together in front of the letters, Manny’s arm draped around Bitsy’s shoulder. Glowering, Pike sauntered up behind them. “Anything interesting?” he said a bit too loudly for the small space.
“Listen to this.” Bitsy pushed her red-framed reading glasses farther up her nose.
Dearest Harold,
I desperately wish you were home from your travels. To think the last letter I received was dated the 28th of October and you were sick and all
I could do was pray and hope you would return to health, settle the matter of your father’s estate quickly and return to our sweet home by the sea.
Bitsy squinted. “There’s a part missing here.” She started reading again quickly, cutting off Julio’s second diatribe on the topic of dastardly squirrels.
Mary is still not well. Doctor Door bled her and although she is not able to sit up for any lengthy time, she took a small cup of sugared tea and a corner of toast. Her fiancé continues to call every day to inquire. It’s a dreadful thing to see how pale with worry he has become, to see him twist the hat between his fingers as he paces the parlor. Poor Mr. Cook. How sad that Mary should be stricken so soon after their joyful engagement.
Julio sighed. “I’ve done some research. Mary was their daughter. She didn’t recover. As a matter of fact, she passed away soon after this letter was written.”
“How sad,” Rosa murmured as Bitsy continued.
I hope to receive a letter from you, but I must be patient. In the meantime, I will keep the fire stoked in the hearth and climb to Captain’s Nest to look for any sign that the ship has brought you home. God keep you in His tender care.
Forever yours,
Irene.
Bitsy stepped away from the Plexiglas, her brow furrowed. “It must have devastated Irene that her daughter passed so young.”
Manny nodded slowly. “Missed out on all the good parts of her life. Mr. Benjamin Cook never got his bride.”
Bitsy sniffed and Rosa realized there were tears sliding down her face. Manny embraced Bitsy. “It’s okay, Bits. It happened long ago.”
“So sad, a life wasted,” Bitsy cried. “Sometimes...sometimes I feel like I wasted mine, too.”
“How can you say that, Bitsy? You’re such a part of this community,” Rosa said. “You love so many people and they love you back. We all do.”
“Oh, I don’t know what’s the matter with me,” Bitsy said, pushing away from Manny. “I’m a maudlin old lady, I guess. Probably going to start crocheting doilies next. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s come over me.”