I smiled. “Really? Awesome! I mean, you have made his heart soar to the highest of heights. I will tell him at once. Good day.”
And I left her, turning but once to find her daydreaming out the window into the sunshine and taking ladylike nibbles from the pastry.
Once in the outdoors, I squealed with rapturous delight upon the prospect of their meeting.
“Hey, Polly!”
At once I was brought to reality to find Brad Baker standing beside my bicycle, a dozen wilting dandelions in his soiled hands.
Surely this could not be!
But alas, it was.
He shoved the weeds at me with little ceremony. “Here, Polly. I picked these for you. They were the biggest ones on the sidewalk.”
I picked the flowers from his hand with my thumb and forefinger. “Why, thank you, Bradley. That is … very kind of you.” Surely he was the admirer of just yesterday!
He laughed a metallic laugh and then held my bicycle out to me. “I know. Hey, you mind if I call you sometime? Maybe tonight, and we can talk about … about the olden times or something. My dad used to have an Afro when he was in college, you know. And my grandpa, he’s even older than that.”
“Indeed?” I placed the flowers inside my woven basket. My heart trembled within my breast. The unpleasant task of letting down the young lad had me much perturbed and unsettled in spirit.
“I … I am afraid I cannot commit to any telephone calls about your family genealogy at this time. Please enjoy yourself, and perhaps I may see you when school, once again, commences in the fall. Good day.” And with great grace I mounted my bicycle and pedaled down the road at a tremendous speed.
When I reached the boardwalk, I stepped down from my bicycle and fastened it to a post. Though the thought of Brad Baker as my beau was one I detested, I could not help but feel considerably saddened of heart by the obvious devastation he must now feel.
I imagined him pulling out my school portrait from within the pocket of his shirt, holding it close to his heart, and allowing but a few tears to fall down his ruddy cheeks over his unrequited love. Later, as the dark night settled over his cottage, he would sneak out of his room and place my picture within a glass bottle alongside a note that declared:
None other will I love, but this fair maiden.
And tossing it into the retreating waves, he would call into the harsh wind, “Great sea, take my love, and my heart, into thy depths!”
Oh, I did hope that afterward, he would not toss himself into the crashing waves, though the idea sounded wildly romantic.
But I was not able to continue my thoughts, for a young boy dashed past me, nearly knocking me to the ground. The force of his insolent blow sent my straw hat flying off my head and into the sand.
“Oh, Polly girl! I’m so sorry!” It was Mr. Nightquist rushing toward me. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, thankfully he did not.” I brushed off my dress and attempted to compose my figure. “Who was that undisciplined boy?”
Melissa Anne dashed up to us, her hair in a wild nest of knots atop her head. She handed Mr. Nightquist a dish. “Here, hold this—it’s for you anyway. Now, where did he go, Dad?”
Oh, dear! It must have been Charles who attempted to assassinate me. I had insulted my dearest friend’s grandson!
Mr. Nightquist smiled at me and pointed in the last direction we had seen the boy run.
“See you later, Dad. Bye, Polly!” And off Melissa Anne darted, calling out, “Charlie! Be good for Mommy and come back! Come on, Boo-Boo Bear! I’ll buy you an ice cream.”
My faced flushed red at my poor behavior. “I’m sorry, Mr. Nightquist. I didn’t know it was Charlie … I mean Charles.”
He waved his hand in the air. “No worries. He’s a handful, but he’s also my grandson and I love ’im, so what can you do?”
“And you are the very best of grandfathers, I am sure. But again, I’m sorry—”
“No more, Polly!” he said, and picked up my hat and handed it to me. “So, where were you headed before Charlie almost knocked you over?”
“Actually, dear sir, I was on my way to call on you, my oldest and dearest of friends.”
“Well, what do you know? I’m on my way to the shop if you’d like to come along.” And he held out his arm to me, which I took, and we walked side by side into the afternoon breeze. “Why was I the lucky gent you were coming to see today?”
“Because you are the dearest and sweetest.” I ceased and lifted my head to the sky in search of words. “And I bring you tidings from Miss Wiskerton, that fair, elegant lady who abides close to my own home.”
“Oh, really?”
I snuck a small glance at his face and saw it fill with excitement. Surely, his eyes were twinkling at the very thought of her!
“Why yes. Speaking to her this morning, I have found that she longs with every fiber of her being to learn the art of letting loose a kite into the wild wind.”
“Is that so? I never would’ve thought her the type.”
“But nevertheless I speak truth. She is to be at Pier Three this very evening in hopes that you will rendezvous with her and reveal to her your secrets.”
“Hmm. Tonight, eh?”
“Yes, Mr. Nightquist. This very night.” The images of this evening’s meeting excited my spirits, and I forgot about the fact that I almost died at the hand of a six-year-old. “And she plans on cooking you something that will make your taste buds soar to the heights of the clouds. Please say that you will meet her.”
“Well, let’s see. My shop closes around eight or so. And I’m not sure if I can stomach Melissa Anne’s tuna casserole.” He held up the dish she had given him.
“But surely you can save the dish for another evening. And I know you can close just a moment or two early to meet with the fair lady. Her heart is nearly driven mad in its frustrated love.”
“Wow, I guess when you put it that way. I don’t want any frustrated love on my hands, and it’ll be nice to eat something different.” He turned to me and nodded. “I’ll be there at seven thirty.”
In my elation over the intended meeting, I pulled Mr. Nightquist’s round head down and kissed him on the forehead. Then I spun around, my dress again billowing out around me. “Oh, you have made a young woman’s day. I must tell her at once! Adieu, Mr. Nightquist. Adieu!”
And with that I fluttered back to my bicycle, with love as my wings.
I relayed the news of the evening’s events to Miss Wiskerton, who was quite pleased, as I knew she would be.
“I already have chicken Marsala cooking in the oven. Do you think that’s a good dish?”
My own mouth watered at the sound of the delicious chicken-and-mushroom concoction. “Dear Miss Wiskerton, it is beyond perfection. The chicken is a very elegant fowl, and much preferable to its ocean counterpart: tuna, the chicken of the sea.”
“Um … very good. Now what should I wear?” she asked, her full cheeks blushing in anticipation.
“I would suggest an elegant, antique-pink dress,” I said. “Though I am convinced that Mr. Nightquist will be enchanted by your beauty in whatever you decide.”
She offered a pleasant smile and disappeared inside her house.
My own home was silent upon my return, except for the quiet sobbing of my dear sister in her bedroom.
My spirit ached at her distress, but I composed myself. Her disappointment was something I had expected. “Yet this is for her greater good,” I whispered to my own heart.
After smoothing my dress and rehearsing an initial air of shock, I knocked gently on her door and entered. Clementine lay upon her stomach, her eyes lined with red and fresh tears spilling upon her cheeks. A rather unsightly display of soiled tissues surrounded her.
“Dearest Clementine, whatever is wrong?” My heart wrenched in my chest. Indeed, it was I who had brought about such intense sorrow.
Had I done right?
I shook my head. My course had been set, and I must stay upon it
. If I revealed what I had done at this moment, I was sure to not make it out of the house with my heart still beating. No, I was sure. Clint was not for my Clementine. Edward was the love of her heart.
She sniffled and blew her dainty nose on what appeared to be her bedsheet, then fell into a despairing sob that shook her shoulders and cut me to the quick.
I sat beside her, careful not to sit upon the tissues, and stroked her tangled mess of hair. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, it’s Clint. He broke up with me! Can you believe it? And after you told him that the thing with that Edward kid wasn’t really true.”
I paused in remembrance of that expectation and was relieved when she did not question me about whether I had actually performed that task.
“I know that this is heartbreaking for you indeed. But know that I am here for you during this hour of grief, and Edward, that gentleman, has passed along these sentiments as well.”
“But how does he know about me and Clint?” Clementine asked.
“Um … well, he does not know, of course, but I’m sure he would say that if he knew. Indeed, he states that he will wait till the end of the world for you. And indeed, I know he speaks the truth only from his heart.”
“Just leave me alone, Polly.”
But I yearned to linger a little longer beside my sister’s bed of mourning. “Maybe,” I said, “you and I could order some pizza and eat it by the ocean. We could go shopping for ribbons, then collect shells or something, just like we used to do.” I was getting quite taken away by my own plans. “Perhaps, dear Clementine, that would soothe your tortured soul?”
She looked up at me, a clear stream of mucus pouring out of one nostril in a highly disgusting manner. “Well,” she said. “Maybe. At least it’ll take my mind off of Clint. But I can’t tomorrow just in case he calls, and the next night Tracy and I are going out. And if Clint calls, I’ll cancel anything!”
And at the mention of his name, she once more fell in a wailing heap upon her pillow.
I stood, quite pleased that at least she and I would be close sisters once more. “I will leave you now, dear sister. Two evenings hence, I will make sure that you have such a pleasant time that you will forget Clint’s name forever.”
And I departed.
Outside my good sister’s door, I smiled and realized that two nights from now was the perfect time to ask if dear, handsome Edward would join us.
The vision was clear in my mind: The three of us laughing by the ocean waves. My sister confiding in me of her love for Edward. Edward confiding in me of his feelings for Clementine. Their hands reaching for the same perfect seashell. Eyes locked, love ignited.
“Ahh,” I sighed aloud.
I would have allowed my thoughts to linger on these shores if I had not been in desperate need of speaking with Edward. His well-bred sentiments would surely lift Clementine’s spirits and ease her heart’s pain. And I hoped he would accept the invitation.
I found the gentleman at the toy store, employed in restocking puzzles of all sorts.
“Hey there, Polly!” he said in the dashing British accent that made my heart melt inside of me. “Good to see you! You know, I loved those muffins the other day. Two thumbs up from me.”
I nodded and smiled. “I’m glad you did. But Edward, my heart is crushed inside me!”
“Really?” he asked, still stocking the shelves. “Why’s that?”
He did not think me serious, I was sure. “It is my dearest sister. I’m sure you saw her the other morning, the girl whose beauty is beyond compare.”
“Yeah, I think I did. She was really nice. What’s wrong with her?”
I sighed. “I am not sure. Her heart is broken. She has been treated quite harshly by a boy, and well … I think she is in need of tender words of care.” He did not speak, so I continued. “I know I have not known you long, but I assure you that Clementine has the highest opinion of you. It would mean the world to her if you, an English gentleman, would give her a few words of comfort that would soothe her troubled soul.”
“Me? Huh. Well, I guess so, if it’ll make her feel better. I don’t want to give her the wrong opinion of things, though, if you know what I mean.”
“Indeed I do. And I assure you she would not.” I said these words, knowing full well that both Edward and Clementine would fall madly in love, despite the fact that neither one, at this moment, was interested. “If you would come by tomorrow morning, I will make sure that freshly baked muffins are waiting upon your arrival. Indeed, it will mean so much to her.”
He smiled and lifted up an armful of puzzles. “All right. I’ll be there.”
“Oh, that’s great … I mean, that is most wonderful.” I turned to the door and remembered the outing Clementine and I planned on making in a few days. “Dear Edward, I was also wondering if you would like to accompany my dear sister and me two evenings from now. As young children we often ordered pizza and ate it by the wild open sea. Then we collected seashells together and made necklaces out of them. I am sure this will help heal her wounded heart. We would so love the company of such a gentleman as yourself.”
He set the puzzles down and scratched at his most perfect head of hair. “Hmm. I’m not sure if I can do that since I work then. But I’ll see if I can get off if you want. Maybe … maybe her best friend, Tracy, could come along?”
I shook my head fervently. “I am afraid that would be impossible, Edward. I believe she is … is already attached to another young man at the moment.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Oh, well. It would be fun to get out for a bit. I’ll see what I can do about work, okay?”
“I look forward to it.” And though I held out my hand that he may kiss it, he misunderstood and shook it quite vigorously instead. “Good day, Edward, and thank you with all my heart.”
And at that I departed for Fran’s home. Indeed, I could not help but skip with joy at love’s promising future.
chapter fifteen
In Which I Find Myself Held Captive
by a Tree, and Horrible, Unromantic
Clint Interferes Once More
Could a day be more beautiful? More filled with the fruits of hard labor and goodwill? I could imagine no such day as I pulled into my bosom friend’s driveway and imagined the next afternoon when Mr. Fisk would meet dear Miss Lucy Penny.
“Thank you, Polly,” Mr. Fisk would say, lifting me upon his shoulders. Miss Penny would kiss my cheek and say, “It’s all because of you, dear, that I, at last, found love. How can we ever thank you?”
“But I need no thanks, for it was all a burden I was—”
“Polly?”
I awoke from my daydream and found I had sat myself down in the middle of a patch of the most gorgeous of gerberas, their bright faces encouraging my heart.
“Polly, why are you sitting in the flowers?” Fran looked down at me from her post at her window.
“It seems I have wandered into a dream, dear Fran! May I come up?”
“Course, you know you don’t have to ask!”
I looked at the large maple, standing proud like a gentleman at a ball, and thought how delicious and terrifying it would be to climb its rough bark. And so instead of taking the stairs, I embarked on the romantic adventure of climbing up to Fran’s room. It was something I imagined Anne Shirley would do on Prince Edward Island.
But upon climbing the first five feet, I found that the task was quite a bit more terrifying than delicious. The ground beneath me seemed to spread into a chasm, and Fran’s bedroom window became a pinnacle that could not be reached.
“Fran!” I shouted. “Help me! I mean … I am in need of your assistance, if you please!”
“Polly? Where are you?”
I heard Fran’s faint call of distress over what had happened to her bosom friend and was forced to shout louder than decency allowed. “Fran! I am held captive in this large tree. If you could please assist me with a ladder, I would be very appreciative.”
As a
ladder was brought I was met with the voice of Bradley Baker from below. “Polly, is that you?”
Attempting to remain dignified while perched in the tree, I grasped tighter to the limb. “Yes, it is I.”
“Well, do you need me to help … I mean, rescue you?”
“Rescue me? Indeed, the idea is a romantic one, though completely unnecessary.”
At that moment Fran came to my aid with her father behind her. They made quick conversation as my hands splintered and my dainty muscles cried out for relief.
“Please,” I called out. “If someone would assist me, I would be most grateful.”
“Oh, sorry Polly,” Fran called up. “We’ll get you down in a second.”
“I’ll see you later, Polly,” Bradley said. “Maybe next time it’ll be my turn to rescue you.” And off he sauntered.
“Ooo, rescue you, huh?” Fran called up to me.
“Please do not, Fran. He hoped only to assist me, I believe,” I said as I was placed on solid ground with the help of Mr. Fisk’s protective arms. “Thank you,” I said.
“So he likes you, huh?” Fran lifted both eyebrows up and down.
“If so, I am afraid he will be sorely disappointed.” I straightened my dress with trembling hands. “Now if you please, I would like to sit down somewhere.”
“So, why were you climbing up the tree?” It was dear Mr. Fisk, who graciously handed me a cool cup of lemonade to refresh me.
“The tree is much too glorious, and I was filled with such overwhelming temptation that I began to climb its knobby bark. But the branch whereon I sat is much higher than it appears from below. Though I cannot say that temptation will not get the better of me again, I will not dare attempt climbing a tree for a long while.”
Mr. Fisk laughed. “Just be careful.” He then bustled into his office and promptly shut the door.
Fran and I retired to her room.
I sat upon a small stool, rested my head in my hands, and looked out through the window, much like I imagined Anne looking out over Green Gables. “Oh Fran. What a day filled with love. I have been quite busy, you know.”
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