Jericho

by Ann McMan

  Syd noticed half a dozen tennis balls in various stages of wear in and around his bed.

  “Let’s find you something to sleep in.” Maddie fished around in a bottom drawer and pulled out a set of bright blue scrubs. “These ought to work. They’re left over from my residency.” She smirked as she tossed them to Syd. “I was shorter in those days.”

  Syd caught them and looked them over. The tunic top was stenciled PPMC. She held the drawstring pants up to her waist. The legs were impossibly long. “Right. Way shorter.” She clucked her tongue. “Got any duct tape?”

  Maddie chuckled as she closed the drawer.

  Syd gestured at the room. “This is beautiful. I don’t know how you leave it every day.”

  Maddie shrugged as she looked around. “I don’t really think about it all that much.” She smiled at Syd. “Having you here is going to be good for me. It’s going to make see all of this with different eyes.”

  “I’m glad. You should. I know people who’d chew their own arms off for the chance to escape to a place like this. I’d be one of them.”

  Maddie crossed the room and stood beside her. “Well, thankfully, you won’t have to resort to anything quite so dramatic.” Her tone was warm. “You’ll always be welcome here.” She gestured toward the hallway. “C’mon, let’s pick you out a bedroom.”

  They walked out of the room toward the front of the house. Pete jumped up and followed along behind them, wagging his tail. Three big bedrooms opened off the wide, center hallway, and Maddie steered Syd toward the front one that overlooked the pond.

  “If I were you,” she said, flipping on the lights, “this would be my pick. It faces north, so you won’t wake up with the sun in your eyes. And it has its own bathroom—a real perk. The other two rooms have to share.” She paused. “This was my room when I lived here as a child.”

  Syd looked up at her, but the Maddie’s expression was unreadable. “It’s settled, then.”

  The room was spacious and well-appointed—similar in style to the master suite. The walls were covered with framed photos of small airplanes. It had a craftsman-style desk and chair in front of corner windows, and an oak four-poster bed. A large oak chest, an upholstered armchair, and a small washstand completed its furnishings.

  Maddie crossed the room and turned on the lights in the adjacent bathroom. It was tiled in black and white, and had a stall shower and a large, porcelain pedestal sink. She opened a linen closet.

  “There are clean towels and toiletries in here.” She pulled out a slender box and set it on the sink top. “Here’s a new toothbrush.” She smiled. “You might want to leave it here after you use it.” Her blue eyes were twinkling.

  Syd pondered. “Well, now that depends.”

  “On?” Maddie looked intrigued.

  “On whether your coffee is truly as ambrosial as I recall. Sometimes, memory can be deceiving.”

  Maddie pursed her lips. “I see.” She glanced at her watch. “Well . . . I guess time will tell. I’ll try not to disappoint you.”

  Syd smiled shyly. “I’m sure you never will.”

  They stood there awkwardly for a moment.

  “I’ll say goodnight then. You be sure to let me know if you need anything.” Maddie hesitated. “I’m right down the hall.”

  Syd found Maddie’s momentary loss of composure endearing. Impulsively, she hugged her. “Thanks for a wonderful evening. It turns out, I really needed it.”

  Maddie returned her hug. “Me, too. I’m glad you’re here.” She stepped back. “C’mon, Pete—bedtime.” Pete raced her to the doorway. Smiling at Syd, she left the room and closed the door softly behind her. Syd could hear the clatter of Pete’s feet as he trotted down the hallway behind her.

  SYD WOKE TO an almost surreal quality, and she had to shake herself to remember where she was and how she came to be there. The place was even more breathtaking in the daylight, and she marveled at Maddie’s ability to shrug it all off as if it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

  After rising and washing her face, she made her way downstairs in search of her hostess. She was still wearing the blue scrubs.

  Syd ventured outside where Maddie was sitting on the porch with her coffee. “Hi,” she said, feeling a little sheepish.

  Maggie turned to her. “Hey.”

  She seemed to be as aware as Syd of the awkwardness that still hovered around the edges of their developing friendship.

  Maddie was casually dressed in faded jeans and a long-sleeved, blue polo shirt. Her shoulder-length dark hair was held back with a copper barrette, showing off the classic planes of her face. She looked relaxed and beautiful as she sat back in one of the wide-armed chairs with a hefty Charles Dickens novel open across her lap. The blue of her shirt matched her eyes perfectly.

  Syd could see Pete off in the distance sniffing the ground around the perimeter of the pond. It had rained at some point during the night, and she could hear water dripping from a nearby eaves spout. All the plantings around the porch perimeter glistened with moisture. The air was filled with morning bird song. From somewhere in the distance, she could hear the plodding sound of a tractor.

  “The sleeper awakens.” Maddie gave Syd a blinding smile. “Are you a morning person, or should I go and amuse myself on the back forty until you have your first cup of coffee?”

  Syd answered her smile and dropped into a chair beside her. “I am not normally a morning person but in a setting like this, I think I could become one in short order.”

  “How’d you sleep?”

  Syd stretched contentedly. “Like a rock—better than I have in weeks, actually.”

  Maddie gestured to a thermos and extra cup on the table between their chairs. “The elixir of life awaits you. Do you need cream or sugar?”

  Syd eagerly reached for the thermos. “Nuh uh. Just like this.” She loosened the cap, and a heavenly aroma wafted out. “Oh god. This better be as good as it smells.” She poured herself a hefty cup and sat back. She took a sip and fought an impulse to moan. “My god, woman, why aren’t you married?” She looked quickly at Maddie. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to . . . I just meant . . . This is amazing coffee.”

  Maddie smiled good-naturedly at her discomfort. “No offense taken.” She regarded Syd for a moment. “It’s true that I’m a pretty confirmed spinster. But, believe, me, it isn’t by choice.” She picked up the thermos and refilled her own mug. “I seem to be unfairly challenged in the relationship department.”

  Syd shook her head. “That’s hard to believe. I’d think you’d have a line of suitors a mile long. What man in his right mind wouldn’t want a shot at . . . this?” She raised her mug.

  Maddie eyed her with interest. “You’d be surprised.”

  “No contenders on the horizon?”

  “Not down here.” Maddie’s voice was thoughtful. “My wounds are still too fresh from my last relationship. It fell apart just before I came back here to practice.” She looked at Syd with her electric blue eyes. “Another entanglement is the furthest thing from my mind right now.”

  Syd nodded. “Well, we certainly have that in common. I’m sorry for you, though. Were you together long?”

  “About two years. All the cards were pretty much stacked against us—two residents working at different hospitals, trying to find time for each other. We didn’t have a chance, really.”

  “So he was a doctor, too?”

  Maddie looked at her for a few moments. “A surgeon—ophthalmology.”

  They drank their coffee in silence for a few minutes and watched as Pete slowly made his way back to them from the pond.

  “Are you a breakfast person?” Maddie asked. “I have some decent bagels and fresh fruit inside. How about we make up a tray and come back out here to enjoy what’s left of the morning?”

  Syd smiled and got to her feet. “I’d love that. Then I can change and impose on you for a ride back into town.”

  Maddie stood up and grabbed the thermos. “It’s not an
imposition, it’s a pleasure.”

  Chapter 4

  At four-thirty on Saturday afternoon, Syd locked up the library and walked back to her tiny apartment. She had been working since noon, and had made fair progress cataloging her inventory of New Media software. She felt strongly about the need to provide bilingual resources for the area’s growing population of Spanish-speaking residents, and had ordered a significant number of tutorials and reference materials designed for this group of underserved patrons.

  In recent years, Christmas tree farms had expanded to be become the dominant industry in the tiny mountain region, and many of the workers who moved to the area to work on the farms were of Mexican descent. Some of these workers were seasonal hires—men who followed the sun from locale to locale and sent most of their earnings back home to their families. Lately, more and more of them had been able to bring their families to live with them in Jericho year-round, and their impact on the community as a cultural and economic force was beginning to be felt.

  Syd understood that the public schools were overtaxed with the need to provide rudimentary English language instruction to students across all age groups. Likewise, adults needed help obtaining access to basic services like driver licenses and healthcare. She noticed that more than one church in the area advertised services en Español, and it was not uncommon now to see notices in store windows in both English and Spanish. Even Maddie’s tiny medical clinic had announcements and instruction leaflets available in both languages. It had occurred to her on more than one occasion that she ought to talk with Maddie about her level of service to this population and mine any ideas she might have about ways the library could better support the town’s efforts to integrate and serve this burgeoning subset of the community.

  After climbing the stairs to her apartment, Syd dropped her keys and her cell phone on the kitchen table and looked around the tiny space. She knew that her decision to store most of her personal belongings for the eighteen months she would live in Jericho made sense. But on days like this, she regretted not having more of her own things to brighten up or at least humanize the Spartan place. Her thoughts naturally swung back to the night before, and her unexpected sojourn at Maddie’s home in the country.

  The ringing of her telephone brought her out of her reverie. She answered it, surprised to hear Roma Jean’s voice on the line.

  “Miss Murphy? Hi, it’s me.”

  Syd smiled. “Hello, Roma Jean. What are you up to on this fine Saturday afternoon?”

  “Well, I got off work a little while ago and am at the fire department helping out with the barbecue.” Syd could hear talking and laughter in the background. “My mama wanted me to be sure and invite you to come out. She says there’s plenty of food left and lots of people here you know.”

  “That’s really sweet of her.” Syd glanced at her watch. She had forgotten all about the event. “How much later will you all be there?”

  “Oh probably a couple more hours. We don’t usually pack it up until everything’s sold. There’s a big church bus from Elk Creek that just pulled in. It’s the seniors group, and they’ll be here forever.” She paused. “Are you coming? Do you need a ride? Daddy’ll come and pick you up if you don’t wanna bring your car out in this muck.”

  Syd had forgotten about the rain overnight. The field around the fire hall would most likely be a morass with all the vehicle and pedestrian traffic. “No, that’s okay. I can drive myself just fine.” She deliberated. “Tell you what. Ask your mom to save me a plate, and I’ll be there in about half an hour.”

  She could hear the smile in Roma Jean’s voice. “That’s great. I’ll tell her.” She heard a voice in the background say something to Roma Jean. “Oh, Mama says that you should park down the road near the old Exxon station—it’s dry down there.”

  “Will do. Thanks for calling me. I’ll see you in just a bit.”

  “Bye, Miss Murphy.” Roma Jean disconnected.

  Syd hung up the phone and shook her head. So much for her plans to spend a quiet Saturday evening reading. She supposed she could go and eat some of the legendary barbecue and enjoy the hospitality of the Freemantle family. They had been especially attentive to Syd since she arrived in Jericho—mostly due to the auspices of their vivacious daughter.

  For today, though, she needed to get out and socialize with her neighbors and future patrons. After changing into jeans and a lightweight sweater, she grabbed a rain jacket and headed out for the county fire station. She took about ten minutes to make the drive, and as she approached the old Exxon station, she saw that she wasn’t alone in her desire to avoid the muck of the terrain around the fire house. Cars and trucks were parked at rakish angles all over the place. She finally found a space big enough for her Volvo wagon behind a rusted dumpster that was overflowing with Styrofoam containers and drink cups. She hopped out of her car and began the quarter-mile trek up the hill to the barbecue site.

  On the way, she ran into Maddie’s chatty nurse, Peggy Hawkes. She was walking back toward the gas station with a heavy-set, middle-aged man. He was wearing a yellow rain slicker and a Wal-Mart cap, and carrying two large plastic bags loaded with barbecue dinners.

  “Hey there, honey.” Peggy beamed at Syd. “How’s that ankle? You look like you’re moving around just fine. It must be feeling better.” She stopped in front of Syd and gestured to the man. “This is my husband, Al. Al, say hello to Syd Murphy—the new librarian in Jericho. We came by to pick up dinners for the nursing home,” she continued before the smiling Al could speak. “Some of the people there can’t travel this far, so we were going to drop these off on the way home. Al’s mother lives there now, and she can’t get out at all these days. But she loves barbecue and can still eat us under the table.” She looked around behind Syd. “Did you come by yourself, honey? I saw Maddie here earlier. Pity you two girls couldn’t come together. It would have been nice for each of you to have the company. I worry about her being alone too much. She never complains about it, but I think she misses her friends in Philadelphia. It’s hard for her to be back here without her daddy. He was always such a social butterfly. She doesn’t take after him in that way. But then, I think it’s harder for a single woman up here in these parts. Don’t you agree?”

  Syd’s head was reeling. “Um, agree about what?”

  Peggy laughed. “About how hard it is to be a single woman around here. You don’t get invited out much, and there aren’t a lot of ways to meet unattached men.” She looked at her very attached husband. “Isn’t that right, Al?”

  Al just smiled and shifted the weight of the bags full of food around in his hands.

  “Well, honey, we’d better be off while these things are still hot.” She patted Syd on the arm. “You have a good time today, and be sure you ask Edna for the lemon chess pie. I made that.” She winked at Syd. “It’s worth the price of admission.”

  Syd grinned. “I will. Thank you for the tip.” She turned to Peggy’s husband. “It was very nice to meet you, Al.” She gave him a wry smile. “I hope we get a chance to chat some time.”

  He winked at her, and the two of them continued on toward their car.

  Once Syd neared the fire station, she could see that things were still hopping. There had to be several dozen people milling around. Makeshift picnic tables were set up all around the perimeter of the brick building, and people laughed and talked as they ate their plates of chopped pork and coleslaw and drank gallons of sweet iced tea.

  The big bay doors of the firehouse were open, and the trucks were parked alongside the building for the event. Syd made her way to the end of the line and stood behind a semi-bald man she remembered from the tire store in town. Two local boys she recognized as band member friends of Jessie’s were in line just in front of him.

  “Did you see her in that black t-shirt?” the taller of the two boys said. He stood with his hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans and shifted from foot to foot as they waited for the line to inch forward. “Jee
z, man, she’s totally hot.”

  Syd smiled to herself and tried hard not to appear like she was eavesdropping.

  “You got that right,” his companion replied. “Those eyes of hers are freakin’ amazing.”

  “Who cares about her eyes? How about those . . .” he muttered the last word. The boys guffawed.

  The second teenager punched his friend on the arm. “Like she’d ever look at your sorry ass twice.”

  “Hey, at least I’m taller than she is, you dwarf.”

  “Since when is that a problem?”

  “You’re such a freak,” the first teen said. “She’s way too classy for you. It’s lame the way you keep sniffing around her. I can’t believe you faked that concussion during practice last week just so you had a reason to go to her office.”

  “Shut the fuck up, man. You don’t know anything. At least I don’t cruise the library all the time, hoping to get a look at that hot, little blonde.”

  An older man in front of the two boys turned around and frowned at them. He noticed Syd and looked past the boys to nod and roll his eyes at her apologetically. The two teens spun around with shocked expressions on their faces and turned five shades of red. Syd smiled sweetly and looked away, trying to save them from further embarrassment.

  She was surprised but not shocked when she realized that the boys had to be talking about Maddie. It appeared that poor Roma Jean wasn’t the only teenager in Jericho afflicted with unbridled admiration for the doctor’s . . . charms. She was also disturbed but slightly gratified to learn that she hadn’t totally lost out to the beautiful woman in the admiration department—although maybe she needed to encourage Roma Jean to stop inviting her friends to help out during her volunteer shifts at the library.

  Syd finally got to the head of the line.

  “Hey, Miss Murphy,” Edna Freemantle said, warmly. “I put back a plate for you, but it looks like we still have plenty left. Let’s get you one of these fresh ones.”

  Edna was wearing a turtleneck sweater, but Syd could see a large bandage poking out above its rolled collar when she bent over to count out the change from her twenty-dollar bill. She remembered Maddie mentioning that Edna had been in her office on Friday and wondered if she was still having problems with her “boil.” She had Peggy Hawkes to thank for that recollection. God, one of the lunacies of life in a small town—you have no secrets.