Summer Street Secrets (The Hills of Burlington Book 3)

by Jacie Middlemann

  "They told her she had to cope." Addie looked at Mary with the look of someone who was trying to understand and failing miserably. Mary was soon to understand why. "When her sisters died," Addie explained, "Aunt Charlie said she was really sad, she was in something she called a blue funk." She shrugged, she wasn't sure what the term meant but it sounded a lot like the moods she'd gone in and out of for the past weeks. "Anyway, it doesn't sound like her sons were very understanding."

  "What exactly," Mary asked quietly with effort, "did they say?"

  "Just that it was part of life and she needed to learn how to cope." Addie rolled the word around in her mouth. It seemed about as unemotional as they came. "I don't think they got it," then she gasped softly remembering she was talking about her Aunt Carrie's brothers and Mary's cousins.

  "No, don't worry about it," Mary said as she patted her shoulder wanting to know more of what had been said. She had been completely unaware of what had gone on. Knew without a doubt so had her cousin Carrie. And Casey for that matter. Knew too that her mother and Casey's would have been deeply saddened over this careless treatment of their sister.

  "That was pretty much it. I was surprised by it and told Aunt Charlie so." Addie smiled but it barely reached her eyes. "She told me they were idiots and had long ago forgotten how to think with anything but their wallets."

  "Apparently she would know best about that," Mary said with more tart than she meant. Smiled again down at Addie as they continued walking yet all the time thinking of the conversation she needed to have with Carrie and Casey as soon as possible. And now there was more than just their Great-Grandmother's journals to discuss. "But the reason I asked was so you would understand how happy being around you, Beth, and Mallie has made Aunt Charlie. She was very much in a blue funk, as she calls it, for a really long time. And being with all of you, painting again, it gives her joy." She pushed away the thoughts of what her aunt had had to deal with without any of them being aware of it. "And giving you those dresses brings her joy as well. You don't have to do anything. Just be yourself and that's as good as anyone can do."

  

  "We don't have a lot of time," Casey glanced at her watch even as she settled on the step of the wide stairway in the front entryway. Without a stitch of furniture in the house as of yet they’d chosen to get comfortable on the stairway instead of sitting on the outside porch steps. "We've got about thirty minutes or so before the girls begin showing up to look around the house."

  Mary shifted slightly to the side so she could lean back against the wall. From that position she noticed the detailed wood molding that ran up along both sides of the stairway. It never ceased to amaze her the tremendous amount of craftsmanship that had been put into these houses regardless of the size or where it sat in the economic ladder of the neighborhood. "It should be enough," she responded to Casey's comment. "I just wanted some time to catch both of you up on a couple of things." She turned to Carrie, not certain how she wanted to phrase it but knew she had to regardless of her cousin's reaction. She knew her cousins, knew their ways, but Mary couldn't help but believe this would surprise even Carrie. "First off I wanted to let you know about something that came up in a conversation with Addie the other day," she spoke directly to Carrie. "We were walking home from the taping segment the other day and got to talking about your Mom's painting. In the conversation it came up that some comments have been made about how your Mom felt about living near your brothers in comparison to being here."

  "I'm sure that was put a bit more colorfully at the time than what you're making it out to be," Carrie said dryly. She’d been appraised time and time again on the issue and her mother had pulled few punches.

  "Yes, well, she said a few other things to Addie about your brothers that caught me off guard." She studied her cousin, watched her turn in her direction, her eyes arched in that way she had when her attention was at full alert.

  "Go on," Carrie prompted.

  "I don't know how it came up, and I didn't want to make Addie feel like I was interrogating her..." she raised her hands palms up...knew she was procrastinating. And with a deep sigh simply spit it out. "Your mother had been having a tough time after Mom and Aunt Leslie died." She saw Casey's head perk up out of the corner of her eye at the mention of her mother. "It seems that your brothers dealt with it by telling her it was a part of life and she needed to learn how to cope, or something along those lines."

  "Jesus," Casey breathed out harshly. "Uncle Jase hadn't been gone all that long either."

  "No," Mary continued to watch Carrie, saw the anger first then the thoughtful speculation. She would hate to be on the other end whenever her cousin decided how to deal with her siblings. "Addie said it reminded her of her Uncle Nick."

  Carrie nodded at the comparison. "She has a point. One I'll make sure to pass on to them."

  "They won't like that," Casey pointed out. "They won't like that at all."

  "Exactly," Carrie agreed. She turned back to Mary. "What else did you want to talk about?"

  Understanding that the subject had been neatly closed and that her cousin would take care of it, Mary pulled a small notebook out of her purse from the step above her where she’d left it.

  "First of all, I need to tell you about my conversation with Dave a couple of days ago." She proceeded to do just that, leaving nothing out and going into a bit more detail on some of the specifics because of the research she'd done since including some of the various folk tales she'd found that had originated in other countries besides those Dave had mentioned. When she was done, having not been interrupted by either of her cousins a single time during her long summary of what Dave had told her and what she had since learned, she looked to find both of them about as awestruck as she knew she must have seemed to her brother. "Any thoughts?" she asked, wanting to get a sense of how they felt about it all before she went to the next part of why she'd wanted to speak to them alone.

  "I know this will sound odd but I think I'm speechless," Casey spoke first.

  "I'm not certain what to think let alone what to say," Carrie said slowly.

  "Well, it gets better."

  "There's more?" Carrie asked even slower.

  "There is," Mary confirmed. She turned back a few pages in the small book she'd made all her notes in. "I pulled out some of those journals of Great-Grandmother's that we found in those trunks from up in the attic. I'd only just barely glanced through them at the time before we packed them away."

  "Same here," Casey agreed. Carrie nodded too. Quiet. Waiting.

  "Well, this time I read through them just about word for word. The ones that were in Swedish, well, I've become best friends with my little Swedish-English Pocket Translator not to mention how adept I've become with the online translators." She felt a sense of glee at the anticipation on both cousins faces. "There are only a couple of places where she actually refers to it directly but there are numerous more indirect references to what she called the knowing or the holder of knowledge." She paused and took a breath before continuing. "That's about the best I could do translating the way she refers to it because there’s no real exact translation. I sent an email to one of the few Swedish relatives my mother kept up with and I'm hoping to get a better sense of what the term might mean from her."

  "The knowing?"

  Mary looked at Casey, understood her need to have specifics. "Another way it is translated is as being perceptive. But the word is an old one. Apparently not used much anymore and it isn't even in any of the newer Swedish dictionaries. So I wouldn't get hung up on the word. What you want to get hung up on if anything is what she talks about. And not just about herself but her mother and her mother's mother."

  "Go on," urged Carrie.

  Mary looked down at her little notebook. "I haven't even gotten through all of them yet but wanted to let you know what I had so far." She looked up at them, something uncertain flashing across her face. "She was very comfortable with the person she was. Whoever and whatever that
meant to her. She didn't quibble with people, she simply accepted herself and that not all would understand that." She ran her finger down along the margin, looking for a specific notation she'd made. "Here," she tapped her fingers on the page. "In the 1890’s not long after she'd married, she talks about a letter from her mother. From it you can tell that her mother was something of a midwife in her community. From that and other things she wrote her mother was a very successful midwife. But in this instance she hadn't been able to save a woman and her unborn child. She states pretty clearly, and this is in English so there's nothing lost or mixed up in translation, that her mother sometimes forgets that it is a gift." Mary lifted the book closer so she could read the exact wording as she had copied it. "She says that her mother forgets that though given the gift to see and sense so to give relief and ease pain it is not to change the fate deemed so by He who blessed us with such a powerful responsibility. And though I know she can Mama has the need to remember we are only to do his calling and not reverse his will." She looked up at her cousins, still as awed as the first time she'd read it in her great-grandmothers own hand. "That's one of the few pretty direct references she makes to her ability, and in this case more specifically her mother's ability." Mary took in her cousin's expressions. They probably came close to mirroring her own as she'd gone through the numerous journals and their great-grandmother's other writings. "I think both of you should go through her writings. I've been organizing them by date or as close as I can when there's no obvious date in them, as I've read through them." She turned the pages to the other part of their ancestor's journal she wanted her cousins to hear. She looked up at them. "This is much later in her life. It's not dated but based on how she refers to Nanno specifically I would guess it's in the 1930’s or 40’s. She not only refers to Nanno but to her as a mother which means at least one of our mothers had been born, maybe all of them. But I'd guess at least mine since she was the oldest." She looked back down at the words she'd copiously copied down from the aging journals. "Charlotte has turned her back on her gifts. She is the strongest of my children just as hers are the strongest of all the children of my children. But her fear of those who are unaccepting of all they don't understand is greater than her need to provide solace to the weak and comfort to the weary. If it weren't for seeing what is still to come of hers now and yet to be and those who come from them, the foreboding that hovers ever so close would be far greater and my ability to hold it at bay would be ever so less. I regret she feels she has failed me but in truth she has failed herself."

  Mary closed her notebook quietly. She looked at her cousins and waited silently. It was a lot to take in. She'd had days of reading and re-reading. Hours researching that had opened up as many questions as had been answered. If they looked perplexed it was nothing more than she herself had felt. And if she saw skepticism who was she to judge. She'd had more than a little of her own. Still did.

  "I can't believe we missed this," Casey was again the first to speak.

  "We just skimmed through them," Mary said carefully. "And with all that I've gone through already these are the only two places where she is as specific as what you heard. There are other places where she makes mention of helping people, seeing things, sensing things, but they’re indirect at best. You would have to be looking for it and know what you were looking for and what she was actually saying under the obvious intent of her words."

  "I think she was referring at least to both of your mothers when she spoke of Nanno's children." Carrie wasn't certain what she believed but she knew what she heard. "When she talks about Nanno being the strongest of her own children, she uses the plural for Nanno's children."

  "I agree," Casey said. "And isn't it interesting how she refers to another one, the one to be."

  "Maybe Nanno was pregnant at the time with Aunt Charlie," Mary suggested.

  "Maybe," Casey allowed. "Or maybe Great-Grandmother was more than we can realistically fathom and simply knew."

  "Casey..." Carrie began than stopped herself because she honestly didn't know what to say.

  "Look," Mary spoke into the long silence that came after Carrie's aborted attempt to explain what none of them could yet put into words. "This is a lot to consider and I've had days longer to think about it and still have a hard time with it." She looked at her cousins, both still quiet and subdued, lost in their own thoughts. "The girls will be here any minute. I suggest we all think on this, each do our own version of research. I've got the journals and other papers of Great-Grandma that I've already read that you're more than welcome to grab and read through yourselves. There's a couple more I'm working on and if I find anything more in them I'll let you know." She paused, waited for their response. Anything. "Okay?"

  Carrie looked up from her contemplation of the floor boards. "I'll be by either tonight or tomorrow and you can give me what you think I'd benefit most by reading."

  "Same here," Casey added. "I'm not certain what I think but I don't want to just blow it off."

  "Fair enough," Mary conceded. She knew them. Knew too they had to come to their own conclusions on their own. Then they would go from there. She heard the car doors slam outside. "The girls are here," she announced unnecessarily. No three young women could make the noise those three did when together. Individually they could be subdued and even quiet. Together they sparked something off each other and it was a laugh a minute for all of them.

  "Okay, let's get to work." Casey stood, her thoughts still weighing heavy but ready to do what they'd come here to.

  

  After going through the house room by room they gathered again on the stairway. Addie and Beth sat on the small landing at the bottom of the steps. Mallie was stretched out along the first step. Mary, Casey, and Carrie each got comfortable on the steps above them, their backs against the wall for support after trudging in and out of every room at least twice in the last hour and a half.

  "Well," Casey started, opened her notebook to the notes she'd taken on this particular walk through of the house. "I think we all agree on what needs to be done in each room and what we don't agree on we can hash out later. What I want us to work out now is who is going to do what." She looked up seeing she had everyone's attention even as they were obviously considering her words. "Any ideas?" She certainly had her own but was more than willing to hear what everyone else had to say. She saw the shared looked between Mallie, Beth, and Addie and realized they had their own ideas as well. And as she watched Mallie take a deep breath as she so often did before letting it rip she realized too they'd found their own spokesperson as well.

  "The way we see it there are nine rooms to be done including the bathrooms. Ten if you count the back screened in porch."

  "Let's go with ten," Casey agreed.

  "Well, we haven't come up with exactly who does what except in a couple of rooms but we have some thoughts on pairing." At Casey's slight nod she continued. "Since we do the Cooking with Charlie and people recognize us from that we thought Grandma and I might do the kitchen. Beyond that our thoughts are about who should do whatever with who."

  "Keep going," Casey encouraged. She sensed her young cousin's hesitancy and knew whatever they were thinking was important to them.

  "Addie would like to do a room with Mary, I'd like to do one with Aunt Carrie, and Beth wants to do one with you." She sent Casey a knowing look, one filled with fun contrary to her earlier tone. "Though I can't imagine why she'd want to put herself in that position considering nothing ever really pleases you and she'll end up slaving her backside off."

  Casey bit at her the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. But sent her niece a nod of agreement and saw she too was fighting to keep from laughing after Mallie's little diatribe. "Point taken. Who else?"

  Feeling her way carefully Mallie continued. "We thought it would be cool if the three of you did a room together and maybe too if Grandma and Aunt Carrie did a room together." She sent her aunt a look expecting to see her rolling her eyes at the thou
ght but instead saw a pensive if not outright intrigued expression on her face. "We think Grace should do a room. I know she's not family but she might as well be." She took a breath and plunged on to the one she worried they'd be most likely to veto. "And we think it would be a good idea if the guys did one." She shrugged then, "I know that leaves a couple more rooms but we were thinking more along the lines of who and not where."

  Casey surprised her by simply asking, "Which guys?"

  Mallie shrugged again. "The guys," she said again as if that explained it all. "Pete, Jake, Court, and Dave."

  Casey continued taking notes before looking up at the other girls. "Anything else?" At their shaking heads she turned then to her cousins. "What about you guys. Any input?"

  Mary spoke up quietly. "I think we should add Mark to the guy team if we do it and I think we should have Terry either do a room on her own or with someone else. She's got an awesome sense of style and while not exactly family like Grace she might as well be and she commands a presence on the screen that won't be soon forgotten."

  "I agree," Carrie added. "And I think Mom should do a room on her own. Maybe based on her memories of the house since of all of us she’s the only one who has any from when it was in the family all those years ago."

  "Any specific room in mind?" Casey liked the idea and had planned to pursue it on her own. With Carrie in on it they’d have a better chance of talking her aunt into it.

  "Not really," Carrie allowed. "I think you should talk with Mom though. If she agrees it might help if it's a room she remembers best or has especially strong memories of."

  Casey nodded, it was an idea she would use. "How about I talk with Aunt Charlie then play around with all of this before we make any definite decisions?" At the nodding heads she closed her book with a snap. "Let's plan on meeting again on this sometime next week. Does that sound okay?" At the varying sounds of assent she stood along with everyone else. The noise was deafening but good. But Casey couldn't help but notice that most came from the younger set. She looked at her cousins and knew their quiet stemmed from thoughts none were yet prepared to share. She could understand that.