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Spinning Forward

Page 12

by Terri DuLong


  “God, do you think Sybile really could be my grandmother?” Monica buttered a slice of toast while waiting for my answer.

  “I have no clue. She’s certainly not going to own up to it easily. She went to great lengths to keep me a secret.”

  “And your father? Who could it be? The modeling agent she was married to?”

  “No, the dates wouldn’t be right. I have no idea. He was probably a married man she was seeing and didn’t have a choice. It has to be horrible to be faced with something like that—young, no means to support a child and yet, no other choice but adoption.”

  Monica nodded. “Yeah, thank God for birth control today. I mean they didn’t even have the pill back in the fifties.”

  “Well, all we can do is wait and see what Dora is able to find out from Sybile. What’s your plan for today?”

  “I have a couple of job interviews in Gainesville. I don’t want to get my hopes too high, but one is with the university for a teaching position.”

  “You’re finally going to use your English degree and teaching credentials?” I asked with hope.

  “Could be,” was all she said before getting up to head into the shower.

  After I locked up the shop on Friday evening, I returned home, had supper, then put on Lilly’s leash for a walk around the neighborhood. I approached Noah’s house and realized he was clipping bushes out front. He turned and saw me.

  Giving a wave of his hand, he hollered hi. Damn. Why didn’t I go in the other direction? I had no choice now but cross the street to where he was standing with clippers in his hand.

  “Hi,” I said. “It’s a nice evening to be outside.” Was I giving him a reason why I was out walking? Unsure whether it was the warm air or another hot flash, I felt my face heating up. Once again he managed to make me feel like a silly teenager.

  “Yeah, I like the fact it’s staying lighter a bit longer. Gives me a chance to catch up on outdoor projects,” he said, bending down to pat Lilly.

  Making an attempt to be more personable than our previous encounters, I nodded toward the house. “Ali was right. It really is lovely.”

  Noah ran a hand through his curly hair, looking up at the house with pride. He paused for a moment before asking, “Would you like to come in and see it?”

  Feeling like I’d hinted at the invitation, I shook my head. “Oh, no, that’s alright. Besides I have Lilly with me.”

  “I do allow dogs in the house—especially well-behaved ones. Come on, I’ll show you around,” he said, leading the way up the front steps.

  I followed, with Lilly on the leash.

  Stepping inside, Noah closed the door. “You can let her loose in here. She can’t hurt anything.”

  I leaned over to unclip Lilly’s leash, whereupon the dog walked over to the Aubusson carpet in the middle of the living room floor, squatted, and peed.

  “Oh, my God! Lilly! What on earth are you doing?” I ran over, grabbing the dog by the collar. “I’m so sorry. She never does this. I don’t know what got into her. Do you have some cleaner? I’ll clean this for you.” Embarrassment suffused my face with crimson while perspiration covered my upper lip.

  “Well, I must say that’s a first,” Noah replied, humor absent from his tone. “I’ll get some cleaner,” he said, walking to the back of the house.

  Kneeling down beside the dog, I took Lilly’s face in my hands. “You bad girl. What’s wrong with you? Why did you do such a thing?”

  Lilly showed no remorse. Her tail began thumping the carpet as she licked my face.

  “We’ll see if this takes the stain out,” Noah said, attempting to spray the carpet.

  “No, give it to me.” I reached for the cloth and bottle and began spraying the circular wet spot, attempting to remove the traces Lilly had left. “I think it’ll be okay. If you find the stain is still there tomorrow, please let know. I’ll pay to have the carpet cleaned.” Standing up, I clipped the leash to Lilly’s collar. “Come on, we’ve done enough damage for one night,” I said, heading toward the front door.

  “Why don’t you stay and let me show you around?” he replied with a lack of conviction.

  The coolness of his tone made it clear Noah wasn’t happy about Lilly’s escapade. “No, thank you anyway. Maybe some other time. Without Lilly.”

  Noah followed us to the door. “Have a good evening,” he said.

  I heard the door closing before I reached the pavement.

  17

  The next afternoon I was busy in the back room when Dora called to me. “Somebody to see you out front.”

  I walked into the shop to see Noah standing near the desk. Oh great, he’s probably here to collect the exorbitant price of the carpet cleaning. Smiling uncertainly, I said, “Hi, what can I do for you?”

  “I just wanted to let you know there was no damage to the carpet. The stain is gone.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. I’m really sorry about that. I can’t understand why Lilly would do such a thing.” When Noah remained silent but made no attempt to leave, I said, “Thanks for letting me know.”

  “I was wondering if you’d like to try that tour again this evening? Like around seven-thirty?”

  Caught off-guard, I glanced over at Dora, who was busying herself sorting skeins of yarn. “You don’t have to do that,” I told him.

  “I’d like to. Really. So come on over about seven-thirty,” he said, walking toward the door. The wind chimes tinkled and he turned around. “Do me a favor though. Leave Lilly home this time.”

  I stood in the middle of the shop as Dora stared at me.

  “He seems like a nice man,” Dora said, continuing to sort through the yarn.

  “You think? I’m not sure what to make of him.” I went on to explain the incident of the previous evening. When I finished, Dora started laughing. “You think it’s funny?”

  “Well, you have to admit, it does have a touch of humor to it. Poor Lilly. Is she still in the doghouse for her transgression?”

  Hearing Dora laugh about the story made me grin. “No, I’ve forgiven her. And since I got another invitation, I guess maybe Noah has forgiven her too.”

  “I’m sure you’ll enjoy seeing the inside of that house. I’d been in there years ago. It’s quite lovely. It gave Noah a good reason to have you over anyway.”

  “Have me over? He was just being polite.”

  “Oh, I see,” Dora said, turning her back on me to resume sorting yarn.

  At 7:25 that evening I wagged a finger at Lilly, who was sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor. “I’m going out. You be a good girl, hear? Go lay down on your bed and I’ll be back in a little while.”

  Lilly’s head drooped as she walked to her bed, made the ritual circle, and plopped down.

  I walked up Noah’s front steps and rang the bell. What am I doing here? I wondered.

  Noah answered the door immediately. “Hi,” he said, friendliness in his voice. “Come on in.” When I stepped into the foyer, he leaned out the door looking to the right and left. “Just making sure the pooch isn’t here.”

  Damn, this man could be irritating. What the hell was I doing here?

  Noah led the way toward the back of the house and an oversized kitchen. A large wooden counter with stools occupied one end and designer appliances completed the other side. Beyond the kitchen was a sitting room and informal dining room combined. A bottle of red wine sat on the counter with two glasses. Noah poured the red liquid and offered me a glass. “No tour is ever complete without a glass of wine.”

  Reaching out my hand brushed his, and I looked up to see a smile on his face. “Thanks,” I said, accepting the glass.

  “Here’s to family ancestry,” he said, touching the rim of mine. “Welcome to the Hale-Johnson House.”

  I took a sip and smiled. Little did he know that my own family ancestry could have had its beginnings on this island as well. “Hmm, very good,” I said.

  “Come on.” Noah indicated for me to follow
. “As you can see, this is the kitchen and sitting area. It’s where I spend most of my time.” Walking into the next room, he said, “And here’s the formal dining room. My mother and I don’t use this as much as when I was growing up.”

  “Is she here?” I asked.

  “No, she’s gone over to the East Coast to spend a couple weeks with an old friend.”

  I noticed the highly polished wood floors and the beautiful molding above doorways. The furniture was antique and looked comfortable in the spaces.

  Walking back toward the front of the house, Noah waved an arm to his left. “You’ve seen the living room and over here are the bedrooms.”

  I followed him into the front bedroom. A beautiful wood sleigh bed dominated the center of the room. Nicely appointed furniture and decoration completed the master suite. I felt awkward standing in his private sleeping quarters and was glad to follow him to the bedroom in back.

  “And here’s my mother’s room,” he said.

  Another antique bed with a beautiful floral quilt was the focal point of the room.

  “It’s very nice.”

  I followed him up the intricately carved oak staircase. From the landing I could look down to the foyer. The front of the second floor was dominated by an etched glass window and a cushioned window seat took up the center space. A large open area comprised the midsection and two more rooms flowed off the main one.

  “These could be bedrooms too, but we’ve left them empty. We don’t need any more and this is where I’m considering having my art classes. As you can see, the lighting is great up here.”

  I nodded. The fading sunlight lit up the open area.

  “And up here,” Noah said, leading me up the final staircase. “This leads to the widow’s walk.”

  I climbed the steps into a glass-enclosed area and then up a few more steps through a door outside. A railing encircled a porchlike space. Two cushioned chairs sat facing the water, a small table between them.

  Walking to the west side, I gasped. “Look at this view.” My eyes took in the blue water, the dotted islands, and the bright red of the sun setting beyond. Shaking my head, I said, “Cedar Key is really the place to watch the sun set. This is magnificent.”

  Noah came to stand beside me. “Yeah, Key West was nice, but this…this is a slice of paradise. I come up here every day to watch the sunset and I haven’t tired of it yet.”

  I inhaled the fragrant spring air. “I wouldn’t understand anybody getting tired of this view. It’s beautiful from down below, but from up here…” I found there were no words to adequately describe the beauty I was witnessing.

  Noah nodded. “What makes it even more special is the fact this is the house where my ancestors spent their days.”

  I surprised myself by asking, “Why does that matter to you?”

  Noah took a slow sip of wine, gazing out at the water. “It never did, really. Not until recently. I can’t quite explain it. I grew up here as a kid until I left for college. I lived in Paris for many years. During that time I never gave a thought to ancestry or heritage.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the passing of each year that makes us want to go backward, rather than forward? Maybe blood really is thicker than water? Maybe some of us instinctively want to go full circle and return to our roots if we have the chance? I don’t have an answer.” He pressed his lips together and sighed. “All I know is I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

  I envied him. That need to find out if Sybile was my birth mother seemed to be growing stronger. I might never find out. I might never have the luxury that Noah had, knowing precisely where he came from. A strong urge to share my story with Noah consumed me, but I forced it down. Taking a sip of wine, I inhaled deeply. Standing there, I’d never felt so alone in my life. Suddenly that void—a void I’d never been aware existed—was aching to be filled. That need to know where my beginning had started.

  “Are you alright?” Noah asked.

  I nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay.” I finished off the last of my wine. “Thank you so much for this tour,” I said, passing him the glass. “It’s a spectacular house.” I headed to the staircase. “You’re fortunate to have it.”

  Noah followed me down the stairs. “How about another glass of wine? I have some cheese and crackers to go with it.”

  I walked to the front door and shook my head. “Thanks, but I need to get back. I enjoyed seeing the house.”

  The following morning I arrived at Spinning Forward to find Dora waiting on the doorstep.

  “I spoke with Sybile yesterday,” she said, as I unlocked the door.

  Placing her handbag in the desk drawer, she turned to face me.

  “She didn’t seem surprised at all about your suspicions. All she asked me was if you knew the hospital and time of your birth.”

  “Saint Vincent’s at two thirty-five A.M.”

  “And then she said she needed time to think. She gave me no further information, only that I wasn’t to raise this subject with her again. I didn’t want to push it. With her illness, I don’t like upsetting her.”

  I nodded. “You did the right thing. She may never acknowledge me as her daughter—and that’s okay. There’s another part of this equation that we’ve neglected to discuss.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That I’m your niece.”

  Without hesitation, Dora enveloped me in her arms. Moisture filled her eyes as she said, “I acknowledge you. You never have to question that. I’m proud to be your aunt.”

  I hugged Dora tighter. “I hope Sybile knows what a great sister she has. Too bad she didn’t get more of your genes.” Swiping at the wetness on my cheeks, I said, “And this means I’ve also acquired a cousin.”

  Dora broke the embrace to grab a tissue and blot her eyes. “Marin has been hoping this would all prove to be true. She’s very anxious to meet you.”

  “So even if Sybile refuses to tell me the truth, you and I know what that truth is.”

  “I suppose it would be best to protect Sybile’s privacy. What I mean is, as much as I’d love everyone in town to know—I don’t think it’s a good idea to talk about this.”

  I nodded. “I absolutely agree. If Sybile went to such lengths to keep her secret quiet, it’s not up to us to divulge it.”

  “But between you and me—I am your Aunt Dora.”

  Alison leaned forward in the lawn chair touching her glass to mine. “Here’s to family and most of all, here’s to Aunt Dora.”

  I laughed. “I was never close to the few older aunts and uncles I had. I didn’t have cousins, as they had no children. Imagine—I’m fifty-three—and I’m a long-lost niece and I have a cousin.”

  “You’ll love Marin. She reminds me of you in some ways. Let’s see, she must be about fifty or so now.”

  “Yeah, Dora said we do have similarities and Marin turns fifty-one next month.”

  Alison shook her head. “It’s pretty hard to believe, isn’t it? You came here hoping to heal and get your life back together. You’re sure getting a helluva lot more than you bargained for.”

  I laughed. “Very true and to think, I may never have come down here if I hadn’t lost Stephen and been forced to relocate.”

  “Oh, don’t be too sure of that, Syd. It’s that searching for our feminine soul that I’ve told you about—sooner or later, all of us feel compelled to find it. In one way or another.”

  “Possibly.”

  Alison reached for a pretzel. “Have you heard from Noah lately?”

  “No, was I supposed to?”

  “Well, you had the tour of his house and everything. I just thought he might be in touch.”

  “Ali, there’s nothing going on between us.”

  “Hmm. Well, as I said before, you never know what’s ahead for you.”

  “Since when did you become the matchmaker of the island?” I asked, standing up. “Come on, Lilly, time to get to work.”

  18

  I sat at the spinn
ing wheel turning dog fur into yarn as my mind wandered. Maybe Ali was right. Maybe it was okay to feel an attraction toward another man. And I had to admit, since finding out that Tori was only a friend, I was pleased. Why couldn’t I be Noah’s friend too? But I knew that since finding out he was available, that attraction had grown.

  I glanced over to see Noah enter the shop, stooping down to pat Lilly.

  “I see she’s forgiven you,” I said.

  “Forgiven me? She’s the one that peed on my carpet.”

  “Ah, but you’re the one that made her feel bad about it.”

  “Since it seems we called a truce, I’ll let you get away with that statement.”

  I grinned. Chalk one up for me. “Are you here to purchase yarn?”

  “No, I’m here to ask you to dinner. Friday evening? About seven-thirty?”

  My grin grew into a smile. “Hmm, I’ll have to check my calendar,” I said and resumed spinning fur.

  “Well, do you think you might do that now so we can make plans?”

  “I imagine I could,” I replied, continuing to spin a few more moments before getting up.

  Walking to the desk, I flipped open a Day Runner and saw blank pages filling the week. “This Friday evening? Yeah, I think I’m free. Did you say seven-thirty?”

  Noah walked to the desk attempting to gaze at the book but not before I snapped it shut. “Right, seven-thirty. I’ll pick you up at your apartment about seven-fifteen? I thought we could go to the Island Room. It’ll be warm enough to sit outside for dinner, if that’s alright.”

  “That’s fine, but I can meet you there. You don’t have to pick me up like it’s a…”

  “Date? It is a date. Be ready at seven-fifteen,” he said, and walked out of the shop.

  At 7:00 Friday evening I lit up a cigarette and stood on the balcony of my apartment. God, what am I thinking? A date? I haven’t had a bona fide date in over thirty years. Is it too soon after Stephen’s death? It was going on a year. I took a few quick puffs off the cigarette, walked back inside, and plopped two breath mints into my mouth. Stopping in front of the mirror, I smiled. The beige slacks fit perfectly and complemented the black cotton long-sleeved sweater. Leaning closer I observed my makeup for final approval. Satisfied, I stood back, tucking hair behind my ear. Lilly barked and my stomach lurched. He’s here. Am I really ready for this?

 

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