Spinning Forward

by Terri DuLong

  He sat comfortably relaxed in a lawn chair, one hand resting on Alison’s knee. A natural aura of warmth and caring floated between them. Ali’s persona had changed the moment he’d arrived and embraced her. She appeared different in a subtle way. More relaxed, brighter—youthful.

  “Alison tells me you’re giving some consideration to opening a business,” he said, moving his hand to begin kneading Ali’s forearm.

  I nodded. “I’m doing some research. Since I’ve never owned a shop before, I’m a real novice. But I’ve been to the bank to sort out financial details and…I actually stopped in at Pelican Realty yesterday to find out more about leasing the space I’d like to have.”

  “I didn’t know you’d taken that step,” Ali told me. “That’s great, Syd. And you’re now beginning to get orders from Lu’s friends. That’s a great start to your mail-order business.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, if Lu keeps this up, I’ll have to put her in charge of publicity and advertising.”

  They both stood up. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider and join us for lunch?” Paul questioned.

  “No, but thanks for the invite. I think I’ll hang out here for a few hours and get some spinning done. Then maybe I’ll head downtown and browse around.”

  Later that afternoon, I found myself peering inside the empty retail space once again. I allowed my imagination to take over, and could visualize an antique desk in the corner where I’d conduct purchases. Stepping inside, I saw that the large wall would be perfect for wooden cubbyholes filled with rainbow colors of yarn. And the lighting—Noah had been right about that. It would be ideal for women who wanted to sit and knit. The small brick fireplace provided a focal point where I could place two wing-back chairs on either side. My spinning wheel would add a nice touch, and the wide window seats in the front windows would allow me to display various yarns and accessories.

  I looked around and realized that the remodeling was almost finished. Opening a door off the main room, I discovered a medium-sized back room that would be perfect for storing stock and taking breaks.

  “Can’t seem to stay away from this place, can ya?”

  I spun around to see Noah Hale standing in the doorway. Was that annoyance I detected in his tone?

  “Guess not, but I could say the same of you.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I’m guilty of being indecisive.”

  Walking past me, he inspected the back room. “This would be perfect for storing art supplies.”

  Heading toward the door, I paused and turned around. “Maybe. But it would also be ideal for storing knitting supplies.”

  “Knitting?” He said the word like he couldn’t comprehend the definition.

  “Yeah, like in knit one, purl two.”

  Noah threw his head back laughing. “I thought your joke of a tattoo parlor was humorous…but knitting?”

  “Something wrong with that?” I questioned and heard the edge to my tone.

  A sheepish look crossed his face. “Well, uh…no. But I’m having a hard time seeing this place filled with the sound of knitting needles clacking.”

  “And I fail to see that it’s any of your business,” I retorted, as I stormed out of the shop.

  Before I even realized what was happening, I found myself standing in the office of Pelican Realty. Twenty minutes later, I was sitting at Ruth’s desk, pen poised in my right hand, reading over the lease papers carefully. Adjusting my glasses, I wondered for the hundredth time if I was doing the right thing. Not only was I embarking on a new adventure, I could be risking my financial situation forever. I was terrified of taking such a major step, but the chronic fatigue and blisters on my feet told me I couldn’t be a waitress for the next ten years.

  “Anything wrong?” Ruth questioned. “You realize the lease will begin on January fifteenth. The contractors will be finished with the shop by then. You’re really lucky to be getting one of the first spaces that’ll be ready to open.”

  I nodded. “Everything seems to be in order,” I said, unable to control my spidery penmanship as I realized I hadn’t been this anxious when I signed my marriage license.

  Ruth smiled, took the papers, and went to the copy machine. She returned a moment later, passing the copies to me, along with a set of shiny gold keys.

  “Here you go. Feel free to visit your shop anytime between now and next month. There’re only minor things the contractors will be finishing.”

  I felt the coolness of metal in my palm and stood up to shake Ruth’s hand. “Thank you so much. You’ve been very patient with me while I tried to make up my mind.”

  “It was my pleasure and I wish you much success in your business. I plan to be one of your first customers. I’m already collecting fur from my Muffy. She has the most beautiful cat fur that I’ll love knitting into a sweater.”

  “You come by anytime,” I told her, walking to the door. “The coffee will always be on.”

  I walked out to Second Street and inhaled the crisp December air. Looking at the red velvet bows decorating Haven Isle, I realized that Christmas was only a week away and within a month, I’d be joining the ranks of other merchants lining the street.

  Clutching the keys in my hand, I stood in front of the library and looked across to my shop. My shop. Giggling, it occurred to me that I hadn’t even thought of a name for the business. I saw that the contractors were finished for the day and the door was closed. Crossing the street, I placed the key in the lock and stepped inside. Sunlight streamed through the long French doors, creating rays on the brick walls.

  “Didn’t I just see you in here an hour ago?”

  Once again, Noah Hale was leaning against the door frame. But this time it was my door frame. I also noticed arrogance in his tone.

  “Ah, yeah, you did,” I said, and then paused for effect. “And since I’m now the official lessee of this shop…you’d better get used to seeing a lot more of me here.”

  The look of surprise on Noah’s face was followed by an indignant stare. “Excuse me? I’m afraid you’re way off base. I have an appointment at nine tomorrow morning to sign the lease with the realtor in Gainesville.”

  “Really? Well, I’d suggest you contact that realtor and make him earn his money, because he neglected to let the realtor on the island know he had a potential lease. Not that it would have mattered anyway.” I removed the signed lease from my handbag, waved the pages in his face, and nudged him out the door in front of me. Checking the knob to make sure I’d locked it, I took a few steps, then turned around. “You know the old saying—he who hesitates, is lost. I’d say you lost this one.”

  Without looking back, I walked up Second Street to the B&B.

  Sitting in Alison’s apartment, a glass of champagne in front of both of us, I doubled over with laughter. “Can you believe it? That arrogant SOB. Telling me he was getting that shop. The look on his face was priceless.”

  Alison’s laughter matched mine. Shaking her head, she said, “I’m so proud of you, Syd. Joining the ranks of businesswomen. You’re on a journey to discover your feminine soul.”

  When the state trooper had shown up at my Lexington home to inform me of Stephen’s accident, I had become numb. And when the sheriff had confronted me with my eviction, I truly thought my life was over. I now realized that coming to Cedar Key had been the first step along a journey I’d never traveled. A journey that was both frightening and exhilarating at the same time. But I failed to see what my feminine soul might have to do with any of it. “All I know is I feel like I’m being pulled along to a whole new place in my life.”

  Ali smiled, clinking the rim of her glass to mine. “Exactly. It’ll all make sense to you eventually. Here’s to your reawakening and mega success in your new shop.”

  After taking a sip, she questioned, “Hey, have you thought of a name yet? And how about your hours? Will you still be working at Cook’s?”

  “I have a few ideas on a name, but nothing definite. I have to keep working for a while. It’ll hel
p pay the lease. I doubt I’ll be super busy at first, so I’m thinking of only being open a few hours in the afternoon, after I finish my shift at Cook’s. Like from three till six and on Wednesdays and Thursdays, I could be open in the morning.

  “Whew, so Sunday will be your only day completely off work?”

  I massaged the back of my neck and nodded. “I don’t think I’ll have a choice.”

  “Oh, forgot to tell you…when I stopped by the post office earlier, Sam gave me three more boxes for you. I imagine it’s more fur to spin for customers.”

  I smiled. “Bless Lu. She’s really keeping me going.”

  Alison nibbled on a chip. “See, I told you. Just wait till word gets around this area. Why hell, they’ll be coming from Gainesville to our island for your spinning.”

  “I’m here,” I heard Twila Faye call as she came up the walkway. Loaded down with a basket, she placed it on the counter and came to hug me. “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you.”

  “Thank you,” I said, wondering what Twila Faye was doing here. Alison had told me this would be just a little celebration for the two of us.

  “Hello,” Polly said, stepping into the kitchen, followed by Dora.

  Both women had bowls of dip to go with the chips.

  I accepted their hugs and good wishes, while I laughed and pointed a finger at Alison. “You lied to me.”

  “That’s what’s known as a white lie. I’ll open another bottle of champagne. I know we’re a little cramped here, but you gals pull up a chair.”

  When the glasses were filled, four women raised the amber bubbly toward me.

  “Here’s to my best friend. May she be as successful a businesswoman as I am.”

  Laughing, the other three shouted, “Hear, hear.”

  I shook my head and swallowed hard to hold back tears. “Thank you. You guys are the greatest.”

  Twila Faye laughed as she placed plates of cheese with crackers and mullet dip on the table. “The dip is compliments of Saren. He said to congratulate you, Sydney. But he wanted to know if it was a lady gathering, why you didn’t invite Miss Elly.”

  “Well, that’s simple,” Alison said. “She never leaves his house.”

  “Most of the time, I think that ghost is a figment of his imagination. But I admit, there’re times he has me convinced,” Dora said, laughing.

  “Well, no matter.” Polly reached for a handful of popcorn. “Poor Saren’s lonely and if Miss Elly keeps him company, then so be it.”

  “Hey, Syd,” Twila Faye leaned forward conspiratorially. “What’s with Noah Hale giving you trouble about the shop you leased?”

  Four heads turned toward me. “Typical, controlling man,” I said and shrugged my shoulders in dismissal.

  “Might be that,” Polly said. “But he sure is one good-looking man.”

  “If you like that type,” I retorted.

  “What type is that?” Dora questioned.

  “Spoiled and used to getting what he wants. Arrogant, cocky, and thinks he’s superior.”

  “Oh, that kind.” Dora nodded her head knowingly.

  “So is he going to lease another shop downtown?” Twila Faye asked.

  “I’m sure I wouldn’t know,” I replied. “Nor do I care.”

  I saw the women raise their eyebrows and look at Alison for a hopeful explanation.

  “Supposedly, he considered leaving the island and relocating to St. Augustine. But you know Nellie—his mother has him back here now and I don’t think she’s about to let him go again. Plus, at eighty-four, she’s not in the best of health. I think Noah feels a certain responsibility toward her.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Polly said. “If Nellie had had her way, he never would have left the island for Paris. I always felt she was a borderline control freak.”

  “Well, that’s why he stalled on committing to a lease on the shop,” Ali explained. “But I guess he waited too long and Syd beat him to the punch.”

  “So—will he be staying?” Twila Faye asked again.

  Ali nodded. “Yup, guess so. I heard he signed a lease on another shop that’s being restored.”

  I could feel four faces staring at me for a reaction, but I lowered my eyes, reached for a slice of cheese, and remained silent.

  9

  I opened my eyes and my glance was drawn to the calendar hanging on my bedroom wall. January fifth already. I looked around and saw that Lilly was still curled up on her bed, sleeping. I had moved into the second-floor apartment in the Tree House over a week ago, and it didn’t take long for both Lilly and me to adjust to our new residence. It may be only three rooms, but it felt like the Taj Mahal compared to the tight quarters in the main house.

  I yawned and stretched. The bedside clock read 5:30. Even on my days off work at Cook’s my body was acclimated to waking up early. I plumped the pillow under my head and luxuriated in the fact I had the whole day to myself. The sound of water drew my attention to the window and I realized it was pouring outside. Not only raining, but it sounded like the wind was howling.

  Smiling to myself, I felt a sense of accomplishment. It had been a tough few months, but I seemed to be sitting pretty now. Well, as pretty as a widow with a shaky future can be sitting.

  I had ordered a computer and Ruth told me I could have it delivered to the shop. Even though technically my lease didn’t begin for ten more days. Dora had volunteered a lovely antique desk (exactly like what I’d pictured) and insisted it had been sitting in her garage collecting dust. She also supplied a mahogany captain’s chair and I felt like I was in business. Only three items in the shop—but, it was a start.

  Then I surprised myself by setting up a Web site for mail orders. And I was able to enter all the names and information about my customers. Yup, I was feeling mighty proud of myself. I had also hired a local contractor who would begin building my cubbyholes within the next few days. And best of all, I’d secured the American Express card and had ordered a sufficient stock of yarn and accessories to get me going.

  I felt wet, slobbery kisses on my arm. “Hey, Lilly. Yeah, it’s going on six o’clock. Guess we should get up. You might not like the weather out there today though.”

  After throwing on sweats and a heavy sweater, we made our way down the stairs outside. Shielding myself with a large umbrella, I realized it was probably useless. The wind threatened to blow the material inside out. Lilly peed quickly, and we both dashed into the kitchen of the main house.

  “Good morning,” Ali greeted us. “Well, it looks like you’re in for your first tropical storm on the island.”

  I poured myself a cup of coffee. “Really? How bad will it be?”

  “Not a hurricane this time of year. But heavy rain and wind for a few days according to the local forecast.”

  “I guess it won’t affect me. I plan to spend the day working on the computer at the shop.”

  “Did your phone service get turned on yesterday?”

  “Yes. It’s nice to have my own phone again. I even gave Monica a call yesterday.”

  “Hmm. And how is the little darling?”

  I smiled. “More accepting of the fact I’m opening the shop. Not ecstatic, by any means. But at least she’s not bitching at me that I’m making a mistake.”

  “Maybe she’ll come to realize that her mother isn’t so helpless after all. Stay firm with her, Syd. It’s your life, so don’t allow her to make you feel it isn’t.”

  I knew she was right. But I dreaded stirring up more animosity with Monica, so I had learned to tread lightly.

  “Oh, I meant to tell you. A woman named Carrie…can’t remember her last name. Anyway, she dropped into the shop yesterday while I was there. Really sweet elderly woman. She wasn’t in there five minutes and she said she thought I looked familiar. This is getting downright eerie. Do I have a twin on this island?”

  Alison continued to squeeze oranges and remained silent.

  A shiver came over me. “Ali? Did you hear what I said?”

&nbs
p; She turned around to face me, wiping her hands on a towel.

  “Yeah, I did hear you.” A deep sigh escaped her. “No, I don’t think you have a twin here, but…after thinking about it, and I’m not sure why I never noticed it before—there is a striking resemblance between you and Sybile.”

  My shiver reverted to a cold sweat. “What are you saying?”

  “I don’t know. Thinking out loud, I guess. But have you seen Sybile? Really looked at her? Didn’t you notice or feel any recognition there? Especially the eyes?”

  I had really only seen Sybile once at Cook’s face-to-face. And I did recall that when she briefly removed her dark glasses, I’d felt something. Like I’d known her before or had met her and it tugged at me now.

  “You think we look alike? You think Sybile Bowden could be my mother? Are you nuts?”

  Ali turned around and resumed squeezing oranges. “I know,” she said softly. “Don’t pay any attention to me. I mean…Christ, never mind a billion to one—the chance of this being true is probably a trillion to one.”

  I couldn’t define why, but I felt angry. “Probably even higher, I’d say. This is really insane. And don’t you think somehow I’d know if she were my mother? That we shared the same DNA? That her blood ran through my veins? I can’t stand that woman. She’s mean and rude and…nothing at all like me.”

  Struggling with Lilly’s leash and my umbrella, I managed to unlock the door of the shop and get inside out of the wind and rain.

  “Whew,” I said, shaking drops of wetness from my hair. “They’re not kidding about tropical storms. They can be pretty fierce.”

  I unclipped Lilly’s leash and she promptly went to her bed in the corner and curled up. She loved coming with me to the shop. Maybe it gave her a sense of purpose like it did for me. I measured out coffee into the filter, poured the water in, and then turned on the computer.

  Nothing. I got a black screen. Hmm. Getting up, I checked the plugs and thought perhaps we’d had a power outage. But no, the electricity was on. After fooling with it for twenty minutes, I gave up and called Ali.