‘Wrong there, from the sound of it. I’ll hazard that she’s sharp as a tack,’ said Gwen.
‘She took her time opening up to Nellie, but sounds like it didn’t take her long to suss out at least one thing at that house: said she knew more than enough about boozers to know Gerard Cully is into the bottle the best part of the day and it isn’t likely to be that way only when she’s there. Her guess is he doesn’t do a lick of work from one week to the next. When she’s peeked in on him in his home office he’s had the radio going and been slumped in an armchair with a glass in his hand or asleep at his desk. Usually I’d feel bad repeating that. We’ve all more than enough shortcomings of our own to be casting stones. And I don’t need to be a nurse to know alcoholism is a disease and mighty cruel to be stuck with. But this is about Oliver.’
‘Gerard may well be an alcoholic, which I agree wholeheartedly is something we should all be grateful to be spared, but if he’s a mellow drunk, not one to go off into violent rages, I doubt that would be sufficient for a court to take custody of Oliver away from him. It could be he doesn’t need to work, but likes to make a pretense of it and his drinking has escalated from having too much time on his hands; though somehow I got the impression from that meeting with Elizabeth that they’re not as loaded with funds as was thought. It might have been because the roots of her hair could have done with a touch-up, but I don’t think that necessarily means anything. She struck me as very much the arty type, perhaps not overly inclined to focus on her appearance; although what she wore did show a personalized sense of style. What put the idea that there might be some financial issues in my head were her fidgeting hands when telling me that getting the landscaping done for free was no inducement. To be objective, she did quite a bit of poking her hair and smoothing her skirt throughout, but it struck me that time as fluttery to the point of agitation. And now we know she wangled matters to get Robin Polly to work on the cheap.’
‘There’s one more thing Nellie passed along, and then you really need to be going, Gwen.’
‘What’s that?’
Twyla sighed. ‘I surely dislike this smearing people and it’s not your way either. This time it was about the parents of those boys – with the strange names – that Oliver didn’t take to from the start. Like you know, he’s not one to look for reasons, so I’ve right along had the feeling they must have gone on making his life miserable and that that’s one of the things he’s been keeping from me. But back to their mother and father; according to Mrs Polly they’ve a reputation at their local bar for regularly knocking it back to the point of someone intervening and dragging them off home. She said it’s her guess that’s why they were allowed in, even welcomed by the Cullys.’
‘Maybe Elizabeth hoped Gerard would agree to confine his drinking to a glass or two on those visits. If he does have a serious problem, sufficient to keep him from working, that alone would be enough to give her those severe headaches. And there could be other problems that we don’t have a clue about.’ Gwen stroked Jumbo’s head and told him soothingly she wouldn’t be gone too long. She was about to pick up the wicker basket, having decided it was best not to say another goodbye to Sonny, but Twyla got to it first.
‘I’ll get it onto the front passenger seat. It’s sufficiently weighted not to slide. You’ll have your turn at the other end.’
‘Thank you.’ They went out into the garage. ‘I already feel like the wicked stepmother leaving Cinderella at home.’
‘We agreed that if I went the Cullys could think the whole thing was a setup to thrust me on them and leave quick as they could. And it’s been made plain they’re set on avoiding me like the plague.’ Twyla paused while getting the basket onto the seat. ‘Seems it’s Mrs Polly’s thinking that has much to do with me being a nurse as my closeness to Oliver. She said there are some who have it stuck in their heads that those with any medical knowledge have ways on zeroing in on what’s the least bit off, especially when it comes to the mental.’
‘We came up with that possibility ourselves. And to be fair, Robin Polly’s viewpoint is also slanted. Nevertheless, a second opinion is always something,’ Gwen responded, adding while getting into the car a reminder that Twyla mustn’t hesitate to call if Sonny’s behavior required her presence.
Once out of the garage she pressed the automatic door return. Even driving at well below the speed limit to ensure the basket stayed put, she arrived at Bramble Cottage within a couple of minutes, making it five thirty as aimed for. She wasn’t concerned about being hemmed in on the drive and had thought it likely that almost everyone else would come on foot. Even if they didn’t, the potluck rule was arrive at six, depart at eight – with no shilly-shallying to delay the hosts from getting on with the clearing up – unless invited ahead to stay on. Libby had made all of that clear to Sarah. And Gwen did anticipate staying on an extra half hour or so. If she had to make an early getaway she could walk if it meant asking too many people to move their cars.
She was about to put the basket down on the step when Sarah opened the door, saving her from having to do so. They had gotten into the habit of letting themselves into each other’s houses when expected without ringing the bell first. Both knew they were welcome to come in a hurry if need be, but were punctilious about never dropping in unannounced. Sarah took the basket from her before she stepped inside.
‘I was watching for you because I knew you’d have the Creole and rice to carry. It’s so good of Twyla to make them. I knew she wouldn’t say no, but do you think she’s disappointed?’
‘No.’ Gwen smiled into the hazel eyes. ‘For starters, she believes I should get out and mix more socially. She had already insisted, against all my arguments, that I be the one to come. When we got the good news that Oliver’s aunt and uncle would be here I knew she was right in saying that if she were present, they’d likely think they’d been tricked into having her foisted upon them.’ She glanced into the den, noticing the teal wall paint new this week and thinking how well it worked with white bookcases and trim. Sarah was wearing culottes and a top in a similar shade of deep turquoise that suited her very well. Her only jewelry was a pair of gold hoop earrings. Such a pretty girl, as well as so dear. They went into the kitchen.
‘Elizabeth did casually ask Evan when he phoned this morning, before agreeing to come, whether Twyla was included in the invitation.’ Sarah took the two aluminum-covered casserole dishes out of the basket and set them down by the stove.
‘Twyla suggests warming those in a 275-degree oven for fifteen minutes, but if you don’t have the room you could use the microwave, although she thinks that tends to toughen the shrimp.’
‘There’ll be plenty of room in the oven and I have to warm up the au gratin potatoes anyway. Libby had made up a big dish of them yesterday, but she was squeamish about passing them along on the off chance she was fermenting her work with this bug Sid went down with in the night. But Oliver had already told us that he’s a wiz at potato peeling.’ Sarah gave Gwen a sparkling look. ‘And he wasn’t exaggerating. Evan thought, as I did, that there’d be bits left on and too much potato taken off. But we agreed when he was done that he could be national – if not world – champion for speed and dexterity.’
Gwen laughed joyfully. She often had similar moments with Sarah, especially in this house. There was something that invoked happiness about Bramble Cottage, especially now much of the redecorating Sarah had wanted to accomplish had been completed. ‘What about the spiral ham you mentioned the Jennsons were going to serve when the three of you were over for dinner last night?’
‘Libby didn’t have any reservations about that because it was still in the original wrapper. But she told me before Evan went over to collect it that he should let himself in and she’d stay clear while he got it out of the refrigerator. Such a shame,’ again that sparkling look, ‘because she’s been dying to meet him.’
‘And well worth the waiting. How is poor Sid doing today?’
‘Feels like a dis
hrag, but – according to Libby – no longer honking up.’
‘Good. Let’s hope she lucks out and doesn’t come down with whatever it is. Now, where are the two hosts?’
‘Evan’s giving a final wipe round of the upstairs’ bathroom – he’s already given the half bath down here a second go – and Oliver is in my bedroom explaining to Dusk why she has to be shut in there for the next few hours. She’s been very good about adjusting to life as an indoor cat and has never made any attempt get outside; I think she’s not at all keen to re-explore that world. But we’ve never had all the coming and going that’ll go on this evening.’
‘Has it been a great rush getting things ready?’
‘No problem at all. Libby called all the neighbors except you to notify them of the change. Oliver made the potatoes this morning, and I made the brownies this afternoon.’ Sarah indicated the large plastic-wrapped platter on the counter. ‘I’d intended that he and I would do that yesterday but the three of us did so much talking before he and Evan sat down to finish Oliver Twist and then decide what to read next. They’ve settled on Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass. Oliver had been read to by his grandpa, but wanted to start back from the beginning. And of course we weren’t going to allow making brownies to keep us from having dinner at your house.’
‘I’m glad you didn’t.’
‘It was a wonderful evening.’ Sarah kissed Gwen’s cheek. ‘As for what else needed doing it was next to nothing, especially as it’s customary to use paper plates, coffee cups and plastic cutlery.’
‘Sensible.’
‘Libby says we’ll be inundated with appetizers and salads, side dishes and very likely more desserts. It’s mostly been a matter of getting in plenty of ice, preparing lemonade and iced tea, getting in some soft drinks, red and white wine, and beer. That’s the rule of drinks offered and everyone sticks to it.’
‘Again, very sensible.’ Gwen took in the rows of glasses and couple of openers and corkscrews, along with the red wine, close to the sink. The stacks of paper plates and their accoutrements were at the other end of the butcher block counter, all of similar custard yellow to the kitchen walls. The sort of detail that would come naturally to Sarah, as did the spray of flowers in an old milk bottle on the kitchen table and other arrangements glimpsed in the dining room. A woman with a career and a home touch. Gwen’s mind drew a rosy picture. ‘How many do you expect?’
‘When Libby phoned back to give me an updated count she said about twenty, besides us and the Cullys. Dinner is announced at seven. I bought a captain’s bell at Grandma’s Attic last week. Oliver’s thrilled at being the one to clang it.’ Sarah’s smile radiated. ‘And I am feeling relaxed. When it came to bringing the house up to par, I did the kitchen and bathrooms while Evan did the shopping and Oliver helped him with any needed vacuuming and dusting, in addition to collecting a dozen folding chairs from the Jennson’s garage and setting up some in the living room and others out on the patio. A good thing the patio furniture I’d ordered arrived late yesterday afternoon. If I hadn’t suddenly decided to obsess and asked Evan to go round the bathrooms again with a magnifying glass and a damp cloth, he’d be sitting in the living room with his feet up. But I expect he’s doing that up in the bedroom with Oliver and Dusk. That’ll be why he hasn’t come back down.’
‘Or because he wanted to give us a little one-on-one time. There’s no mistaking that he’s a very kind and thoughtful man and given that he managed to get Elizabeth and Gerard Cully to come this evening, one who must exercise impressive powers of persuasion when the cause merits it. I think it a wise decision, my dear, to have had him be the one to make that call.’
‘Oliver’s emotional and physical security means so much to him and there was,’ Sarah grinned impishly at Gwen, ‘the fact that he’s a writer. One I’ve come to realize,’ this said with a decided touch of pride, ‘is really quite well known. Oliver had already told them that fact and I’d the feeling from what you sized-up about Elizabeth that she’d be the sort to be readily impressed by someone in the creative field. Also, she would be concerned that those of like minds around here would be inclined to listen and take seriously any negative comments Evan might make, if given provocation, about the aunt and uncle with custody of the young heir to the Cully legend.’
Gwen’s admiring response was cut short by Evan coming in and giving her a one-armed hug, as had become his usual greeting. Immediately behind came Oliver to provide the full-throttle treatment. Here, she was thinking, is – or should rightfully be – a loving little family, when the doorbell rang.
‘Someone’s early,’ Sarah glanced at her watch, ‘it’s only ten to six.’
‘Bet it’s Aunt Nellie,’ predicted Oliver. ‘Brian says she’s always first to arrive anywhere; can’t stand not to be in from the start.’ He followed Evan out to the foyer.
‘My dear, you’re more than ready. All organized and the house looks great. You’ve done such a wonderful job making it welcoming and comfortable. I love the new wall color in the den.’
Sarah visibly relaxed. ‘Thank you, and I’m so glad you encouraged me to do the foyer and staircase wall – which Sid kindly painted – and the upper hallway white. I’m all for rooms in different colors, hopefully complementary ones, but not the rainbow effect. We still need more in the den than the two leather recliners my parents gave me, but I’m hesitant to buy furniture because . . . if Oliver were staying in the area I’d put a piano in there.’
It was Nellie’s voice coming to them in full sway, so as yet no budging of feet. ‘He does have a talent and desire that should be accommodated. And he has other gifts, ones of intellect, conscience and compassion that could lead to his teaching or entering the medical profession as did Nathaniel Cully. However,’ Gwen was now the one to kiss Sarah’s cheek, ‘I have a strong intuition Oliver will follow in Evan’s footsteps and become a writer.’
Sarah smiled through a shine of tears and kept her voice low, although Nellie was still holding strong by the front door. ‘I knew you realized last evening that Evan and I had told each other how we feel about each other.’
‘My dear, you were both walking on air, and Oliver along with you.’
‘But we can’t allow ourselves to dream beyond getting married, because even if the Cullys were to become reasonable, there’s Twyla, whom we’d never do anything to hurt.’
‘No difficulty there – she’s told me what she believes is best for Oliver. As for the rest – that intuition I just spoke of tells me everything is going to work out as it should.’
‘Dear Gwen! Someone else said that to Oliver . . . now here come the guys and Nellie.’
That lady entered with a typical flourish of her stick that always seemed more of a conductor’s baton than a necessary mobility aid. She had a long brown paper-wrapped something tucked under her free arm, but did not hand it over, instead spreading a beaming smile before rattling on. ‘Sorry to have kept these fine fellows hog-tied, but I was telling them how my two spirit guides showed up around noon. It’s been that long since they’ve put in an appearance I’d gotten to thinking they’d ditched me for someone living in a warmer climate.’ She made it sound as if the negligent pair had bought bus tickets to Arizona or Florida. ‘Our summers are a joke. My spirit guides came to urge me to attend the peace rally that always gathers at the corner of Main and Narrow Street on Saturday afternoons.’
‘Were there a good number of supporters there?’ asked Sarah.
‘Usual dozen or so, but now’s the prize part.’ Nellie chortled. ‘A man stuck his head out a car window and yelled straight at me: “Get a job!” Like I’m a sluggard for giving up looking at ninety.’ Her glee was so infectious they all joined in her laughter, with Oliver doubling over with mirth. ‘Of course, he wasn’t from here. Hereabouts, whatever their politics, folks are live and let live.’
‘What was your response, if any?’ Evan was patently charmed, despite probably having already heard most of this.
>
‘The one that gets right up the snouts of people who think demonstrators are for hell in a hurry: “God bless you, sir.”’ Nellie handed Sarah the brown paper object. ‘French bread, it’s always my contribution.’
‘Wonderful. Libby told me or I’d have had to buy some.’
‘But this time I forgot the butter.’
‘No problem, I’ve already put a couple of sticks out to soften.’
The doorbell rang again. It seemed to do so constantly for the next ten minutes bringing a stream of people bearing bowls of salads and fruit, plates of appetizers, casserole dishes . . . the list went on. Gwen helped to get the main course items, if they didn’t need to be re-warmed, onto the dining-room table, while Oliver – exuding cheer – put the nibbles on the one in the kitchen. Evan continued to let newcomers in.
‘That’s the one thing we didn’t think of – leaving a note taped on the outside of the door telling people to just walk in,’ said Sarah to Gwen amidst the growing buzz of voices as they stood checking to make sure there were sufficient serving utensils. The majority of participants had brought their own.
So far Elizabeth and Gerard had not showed. Some of the appetizers had been taken out to the patio and others to the coffee table in the living room that to Gwen had become a blur of hands holding drinks and faces that were unfamiliar to her. The age range seemed to be between the thirties and eighties. Everyone she had spoken with had been pleasant; the difficulty lay in trying to retain their names. She knew Carolyn Hepplewhite, who was president of Friends of the Sea Glass library, and was pleased to hear her telling Sarah that she had several boxes of Nan Fielding’s books and had that morning come across a hardcover copy of Evan Bryant’s book signed personally to Nan. It was such a pleasure to have been introduced to him a moment ago and did Sarah think he’d like it returned? Gwen missed the rest because Maurice Fisher, whom she had long known from the choral society, took the opportunity to ask about Sonny. He then went on to discuss how some natural remedy was doing wonders for his arthritis. He was a dear man married to a woman – only visible as a silhouette from across the room – who if beside him would have contradicted every second word he said if up to her usual form. Gwen also knew Celeste Rogers and Diane Thorn, a couple who were both in the garden club and devoted to their two Pekinese. They also inquired very kindly after Sonny, and then Gwen had moved away after Nellie tugged her elbow.
Sea Glass Summer Page 27