Anna opened the heavy glass door to the town office. She thumbed through a newsletter at the counter and waited for Ms. Kipfer to complete her telephone conversation and acknowledge her.
The town clerk ended her call and looked up. “Can I help you, Miss Jenkins?”
“Hello, Ms. Kipfer. I thought of many questions on my walk downtown and wondered if you might have a newcomers’ newsletter with basic information. And here it is.” Anna held up the paper. “I realized I didn’t even know when my garbage would be collected or how I will receive my mail. It even advertises house inspectors I was coming to inquire about. This newsletter is terrific.”
Ms. Kipfer rose from her seat. “Please take one home. I prepared it myself for someone just like you. You’re my first new resident this season and I added more information since last year.” She pointed to the header page with its logos of a sailboat, snowmobiles, a recreation vehicle, and bicycles.
Anna tucked the pages in her pocket. “Thank you, Ms. Kipfer. I’ll read this and if I need more information, I’ll drop in later.”
“Call me Jan.” She reached across the counter with an outstretched hand and four silver bangles clicking together at her wrist.
“Thank you, Jan. Please call me Anna.” Their hands firmly clasped.
As Jan turned and glanced toward her computer screen, Anna said, “I’ll leave you to your work. Thank you again.”
“This time of year is exceedingly busy with cottage owners anxious to begin their season. But do pop in whenever you need information.”
Anna left the office feeling she had begun a relationship with Jan as two professional women assisting each other when needed.
The next morning, sunshine streamed across her face and the lake reflected the greening hills and leafed out trees. Anna meandered in the back yard with her coffee cup. As the type of urban woman who saw the outdoors between her destination and her car, she was spending a lot of time in the fresh air since her arrival in Regina Beach.
“Annie, you look like you’re lost.” Herman leaned his elbows on the gate.
“Morning, Herman. I’d like a garden, but I don’t know where to start.”
“You’ve got to get the earth all worked up and ready for a change.”
“Is that the reason you call me Annie? You want me worked up and changed?”
“No, I just like the name.”
“All right then.” She sipped her coffee. “Is there time to plant a garden? I mean, it’s spring. Aren’t things supposed to be growing by now?”
“That’s what greenhouses are for. You buy young seedlings and transplant them into your garden.”
“Where would I find someone to work up the ground? Jan provided a pamphlet with a lot of information. I’m afraid I haven’t read it all, so I don’t want to ask her.”
Herman’s lips curled around his gums. “Jan, is it? She respects you.”
“Yes, I think she does. I understand she has a great deal of knowledge.” Anna kicked at the clumps of crabgrass and dandelions.
“You could dig it up yourself. Good exercise. It would make you strong.”
“I need a shovel.”
He opened the gate. “Have you found the key to that shed yet?”
“There are keys inside the cupboard door. I’ll get them.” She ran inside with another sparkle of hope. Transplanted and worked up—that’s what I am.
Herman helped her open the rusted padlock. She pulled the string dangling overhead and a solitary light bulb illuminated the small area. Garden forks, spades, hoes and other outdoor paraphernalia lined the walls.
“Okay, girlie. You bring that fork and spade and I’ll bring this chair. You’ve heard about my heart operation, haven’t you?”
“Only in passing.”
“It’s true. Had this ticker repaired.” He tapped the front of his flannel shirt. “I have to take it easy. I’ll just sit on this here chair and tell you what to do.”
When Nick rounded the corner of the Lambs’ house, he heard Herman’s familiar rasp calling out, “No, not that way. Put it at an angle and step down close to the handle.”
Nick peered through the bushes and saw one long white leg struggling to stay balanced while the other pushed a garden fork into the very hard earth. The tongs barely penetrated, so she perched one leg on either side of the shaft to add more force. He watched her buttocks strain under jean cut-offs, then she collapsed in a shocked, winded heap.
Herman tried to push himself out of his chair, which seemed to hold him captive. The back yard erupted, not into screams for help, but bubbling mirth. Her laughter slowly rolled along until it erupted into hiccupped gushes, like fresh water flowing out of an open pipe.
Nick remained hidden. He wouldn’t interrupt but if they needed help, he’d be there. He welcomed Herman’s relaxed face flushed with life, and Anna’s white limbs flailing against black earth were a vision. Finally, she lay back and enjoyed her prone position. Her legs and arms splayed as if she were about to play one of the oldest games and create a dust angel. His heart lurched. He longed to join them, but he knew as soon as he emerged from the trees, everything would change. He felt the twinge of being an outsider, there to protect and observe only.
Before he walked down the path, he heard the quiet conversation turn toward different methods of opening the earth for new growth. He scrubbed his hand across his face, pushing away the scenes of earth opened in destruction from missiles and buried land mines, where limbs were torn open.
What was the matter with him? Maybe he needed more debriefing, more counseling. No. Exercise was what he needed.
He climbed into his truck and dialed his cell phone. “Jeremy, Nick here. Where are you and Shane now?” He slipped the keys into the ignition.
“Fifth,” Jeremy’s gruff voice barked.
“Great. I’ll be right there. I need a little exercise.” He started the truck and turned up Fifth Avenue. He would join the garbage crew and walk along hoisting the cans and his anxiety would dissipate. He was bound to smell the healthy stench of rotting fish guts.
It meant people were enjoying life, successful at a sport, and eating well.
Anna brushed off her knees and her shorts and swiped her hand across her eyes. “That didn’t work too well. Any other suggestions?”
“Not yet. But I’m sure after I think on it something will come to mind,” Herman replied.
Anna glanced at his face, checking for any signs of distress.
“Don’t look so concerned. The doctor told me laughter is an internal massage.”
“Herman, where are you?” Margaret called from the back step.
“He’s over here with me.” Anna walked toward the hedge gate. “He’s supervising me.”
“What are you two up to?” Margaret came over and took in the scene with one sweeping glance. “You’re going to plant a garden?”
“That was the original idea, but as you can see I haven’t made too much progress. The ground’s very hard.” Anna rubbed her backside.
Margaret put her hands on her hips. “Herman, why didn’t you just call Harvey? He has the equipment and it would be done in no time.”
“Never thought of it. I just remembered John always dug things up himself.”
“That was long ago. This earth hasn’t been turned in years. It’s going to need more than long legs and a garden fork.” She raised her eyebrows at Herman. “Anna is a lot prettier than Harvey.”
“Margaret, I can call. You sit down and I’ll bring out some iced tea.” Anna opened the summer door.
Margaret shook her head. “No, both of you stay where you are and I’ll call Harvey. He owes me a favor or two.”
“Best allow her to have her way. If something needs to be done in a hurry, Margaret is the woman to get that a
ccomplished. She was the head of personnel for years before we retired. She has a way with folks.” Herman pulled his sweater tighter across his chest. “It’s chilly when the sun moves and all of a sudden I’m in the shade.”
“Have you had too much sun? Do you want to go in for a rest?” Anna asked.
He stood and picked up his aluminum folding chair. “I’ll have a little rest until Harvey comes. Then I’ll come and watch the show.”
After Herman closed the back door, Anna went inside and poured herself a glass of iced tea. She brought the newspaper and glass to the back deck where the sun warmed her little corner of her world.
Margaret’s suggestion of calling a handyman with a roto-tiller to break up the earth for a new garden had been smart. Unavoidable, but smart. Anna had no idea when Harvey and his machine would arrive but that was no longer in her control. Without her underlying assumption that pity prompted assistance, it was easier for Anna to accept help.
In the early afternoon, Margaret stood over Harvey, making sure he went over the ground twice. She directed the length and width while Herman sipped lemonade and Anna stood with her hands folded primly before her.
Harvey glanced shyly from under his peaked cap. He chuckled and blushed to a deep red when she paid him cash and included a substantial tip for his speed.
“You know, Annie,” Herman began, “things don’t usually happen this quickly, but Harvey can’t resist being the first to size up a pretty girl. Margaret, you’ll have some fences to mend. Some of your bridge buddies are on Harvey’s ‘Handyman Waiting List.’”
“I know, but it’s worth it. I was afraid next she’d be jumping on the spade and break a leg.” She looked pointedly at Anna. “Herman, you rest. Anna and I will drive to Alice’s greenhouse and get some plants for this garden. Besides, I need a few more geraniums for my own pots.”
Anna would have preferred a hot bath to ease her sore backside, but she wiggled onto the driver’s seat and gently snuggled her tender tailbone into the familiar cushioned space.
“The brown house on the corner with the veranda was built by one of the first families who moved here when Regina Beach became a village in 1920.” Margaret returned her attention to the road. “The beach has quite a history. Once, a resident put up an eight-foot fence and charged a dime for people to go swimming.”
“Probably a lot of money for some families.”
“You’re right. The story is that a Scotsman, wearing a kilt, walked along the shore playing his bagpipe. If anyone tried to swim around the fence they were met by two hairy legs and a menacing stare.”
Anna slowed for the four-way stop sign as Margaret continued, “Another resident took this to the Court of Kings Bench and was awarded access for him and his ancestors. But the fence came down and the village purchased the land.” Margaret paused to smile. “We’ve always had concerned citizens run for council. Actually, John Good took his turn for a few years. Perhaps it will be something you’d be interested in.”
“I don’t think so.” Anna wasn’t ready to decide things for people who lived and played here. “I’d have to be better known before considering that possibility.”
“Don’t worry. I just know you will be.” Margaret reached over and patted Anna’s knee.
Margaret kept up a running commentary about who lived where, who were the old settler families and who were the newcomers. Anna did the math and calculated newcomers were those who were here less than twenty years. She had a lifetime to become an old timer.
“Stop,” Margaret suddenly called. She pointed toward a pile of large rocks. “Those are exactly what you need to outline your garden and add to the appearance.”
“Do I buy them?”
“No. You don’t have to buy rocks in the country, but you have to haul them or pay to have them hauled.”
“Who do they belong to?”
“Probably the Donnelly place. I believe this is their land.” Margaret leaned toward the front window without unlocking her seat belt. “You should come here and ask Nick if you can have a few. If you put a couple in your car at a time, you’ll get the job done.”
Anna’s heart banged against her ribs. If this was his land, it was also Molly’s land. “Does Nick own land as well as his father?”
“It’s probably one of the town’s biggest secrets that Nick’s grandfather bequeathed his portion of the land to Nick. But no one says anything because Nick doesn’t get it until he returns home for good. Jack wanted Nick to have something to come home to.”
“Nick doesn’t know?”
“Not as far as any of us can gather. Jack probably won’t be home for another month or more and then he might tell Nick. All of us walkers and my bridge group suspect Internet dating.” Margaret blew air through her teeth. “As if there aren’t enough widows around this town!”
Anna concentrated on following the bend in the grid road. Both she and Nick were unexpected beneficiaries of land. Nick would suspect he would inherit land because his father’s would eventually pass on to him. This did not necessarily give her another thing in common with him.
Forget it.
“Anna, wake up.” Margaret brought Anna out of her reverie. “I told you to turn here.”
Anna pressed hard on the brake and made the turn into ‘Alice’s Greenhouse and Pumpkin Patch.’
Between the greenhouse owner and Margaret, Anna’s trunk and back seat soon filled with perennials and annuals. The little name spikes promised colorful blossoms or vibrant vegetables. When they drove past the B&B, Anna kept her eyes straight ahead and her mind focused on her dream, as a self-caring, independent business woman. A little smile of satisfaction pulled at her lips.
Margaret noticed her expression. “What are you smiling at? There’s still a lot of work to do.”
“I was thinking about how nice it is to be a stranger and learning new things.” Anna drummed her fingers against the steering wheel to a tune on the radio.
When they turned onto Green Avenue, Margaret gave Anna’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’d say by the look in your eyes, you’ve learned a lot about life. You don’t have to be a stranger. You could always share it with me.” She seemed just a bit too anticipatory.
Anna shook her head. “You’ve been very kind to me. You’ll be the first to know my story if I decide to share my past.”
“Were you adopted by any chance?” Margaret pressed.
“Yes.”
“I’m satisfied with that. I used to be a mystery woman, too.” Margaret settled back into the seat.
“Really? Want to tell me?” Anna stole a look at Margaret’s ‘straight-ahead’ posture.
“Maybe someday when we’re sitting under the umbrella and a nice soft rain reminds me of my parent’s home, I’ll tell you. But for now, I’ll save my breath to move these plants.”
“No, you don’t! You check on Herman, and I’ll unload the car. I’ll bring your plants over and put them on your deck.”
“You’re a sweet thing.” Margaret reached out and patted Anna’s cheek.
While Anna placed each carton of plants around the periphery of her newly tilled garden, she thought more and more about the added dimension of a natural rock frame. If she drove out to see Nick tonight, she could begin to gather rocks tomorrow.
The scent from the lilacs on the table was a welcome homecoming. No, tonight she’d stay home. She opened the hall closet and grasped the handle of the tattered guitar case. She carried it to her seat under the trees and strummed against the backdrop of nature’s serenity, her mind wandering as she hummed along.
When Nick came to mind, she accepted the image of dark smiling eyes and furrows of brown skin and muscle, eddying from a wide-mouthed smile. For the first time in a very long time, she felt at ease thinking of another man, of a face different than blue eyes, rounded ch
eeks and warm, tender lips. For a moment, Murray’s face seemed to fade with the wistfulness of a remembered tune and half-forgotten words.
Slowly, her fingers loosened on the frets and she laid the guitar across her lap. The soft ripples across the water soothed her, its motion probably familiar to all who’d sat here since the ice age. It was easy to imagine a Plains Indian astride his horse guarding maiden girls washing their bowls and utensils on the lake’s edge, while the elders taught the young boys to read the currents from the canoes.
Here, surrounded by nature, she felt as though she could accept the passing of souls from one dimension to another in peace.
Chapter 5
Anna rolled the rock to the edge of the trunk and slid her arms around it. Why did she ever think it looked like a sleeping cat? Now it was just rough, dirty, and heavy. Her biceps bulged when she lifted it. She looked at her load and then up the steps that led to the backyard. The only way this feline mirage was going to be sleeping beside her petunias was if she rolled it there. She spread her legs and squatted to lower the rock, keeping her toes at a safe distance. Her thighs and calves strained against its weight.
When it was safely nestled on the ground at the edge of the step, she straightened. It wasn’t this heavy when she’d put it in her car; the angles had been different. Rubbing her back, she stood waiting for the sun to show her the shadows of eyes and nose and the dusting of tabby tiger stripes. Not there. Maybe rocks didn’t transplant well. Perhaps this explained why they looked so sad, piled haphazardly in the fields she’d driven by on her exploratory ventures. She hoped she didn’t look as sad now that she’d transplanted herself.
Moving On Page 5