The Greening: a novel of romantic suspense...with a touch of magic (The Green Man Series Book 1)

by Sharon Brubaker

  “Good luck in there!” Sylvia added looking around at the number of cars in the lot.

  Her mother made a funny face at her and said ‘thanks’ sarcastically as she turned to the entrance of the market.

  Sylvia paged through the book. Nothing in particular jumped out at her. Maybe she was trying too hard. She put it down and looked at the people going in and coming out of the store.

  Eventually her mother came out pushing a cart filled with bags. She put them in the trunk of the car.

  “I thought you were only going in for one or two things,” Sylvia teased her mother.

  “I know,” her mother replied, “but, I thought we should have a couple of things for an appetizer too,” she said. “I picked up some steaks for tonight, cheese and crackers and fresh fruit, vegetables and dip for tomorrow’s dinner. Plus they had some great pastries for tomorrow morning that were on sale.”

  They drove home and spent the day relaxing, not really doing anything. Sylvia lazily watched the boats sail up and down the bay intermittently reading the books on the Green Man while her mother read a popular novel.

  Dusk was falling when her mother asked her if she was hungry. Sylvia shrugged.

  “I’m not really hungry,” she said to her mother, “just munchy.”

  “Me too,” her mother agreed. “What if we put the steaks in the freezer and break into the cheese and crackers and open up a bottle of wine?”

  “Mmm,” Sylvia answered, “Sounds wonderful.”

  Her mother went out to the kitchen and prepared a tray of fresh fruit, cheeses and some crackers. She opened up a bottle of pinot noir that she had purchased to drink with the steaks. She took the tray out to the living room and set it on the coffee table. They ate and drank. Sylvia took her second glass of wine and went out onto the deck to watch the sunset. Tonight it was brilliant stripes of peach, coral and fuchsias. It was breathtaking. She watched the stars appear one by one as the sunset moved to dusk and onward to the night. When the night had fully fallen, the sky was brilliantly scattered with stars that twinkled in the inky blackness over the bay.

  It had been nice to kick back and relax today, she thought. The weariness from her restless previous night caught up with her and she suddenly felt very sleepy. She went inside.

  “I didn’t sleep very well last night,” Sylvia told her mother. “I’m going to turn in.”

  Her mother looked up from reading her book, “Oh?” her mother questioned her with a look. Are you all right?” she asked.

  “I’m okay, just tired,” Sylvia replied.

  “Okay,” her mother said, turning back to the novel she was reading, “Good night,” she said vaguely, getting caught up in the novel again.

  The next morning dawned much too quickly, but Sylvia felt well rested and not disturbed by odd dreams. The Green Man entered into a dream or two again, but his comforting presence felt good to Sylvia. She beamed as she bounced down the stairs to the kitchen.

  “Good morning, Syl,” her mother greeted. “Did you sleep better? How do you feel?”

  “I feel great,” Sylvia told her smiling. “What a beautiful day.”

  She went inside to get a cup of coffee and a cinnamon bun, that her mother had picked up the day before. She rejoined her mother after she heated the cinnamon bun in the microwave.

  “What time are Marian and Owen coming?” she asked.

  “I told Marian about 5:30 tonight,” her mother answered. “Why?”

  “Actually, I would like to look for a cordless phone and go to the mall to start looking for a suit or something appropriate for an interview.

  “Want company?” her mother asked.

  “Yeah, sure,” Sylvia answered.

  “Let’s finish our breakfast and let me read the paper before we go,” her mother said. “Here are some ads to check to see if someone has phones on sale.”

  Sylvia sat cross-legged in the chair and spread the advertisements on the table before her, holding them down with her coffee cup and plate. The breeze was slight and ruffled the corners of the papers.

  After an hour or two of shopping with her mother, Sylvia regretted including her mother in the shopping trip. Shopping for the phone had been all right. In fact, her mother had talked her into a nice cordless set. Their attempt at clothes shopping was another story! Everything Sylvia tried on that she liked was flawed in some way in her mother’s eyes. It was either the length was too short or too long. The outfit was the wrong fabric or the wrong color. Sylvia was so frustrated she wanted to scream. She fell in love with a lovely linen sleeveless dress. It was an ankle length, pale sage green linen dress with white leaf designs embroidered around the neckline and around the hem. It was simple, yet elegantly casual. She though of Owen coming that evening and wanted to wear something pretty. Even though her mother fussed about the price and the color, Sylvia defiantly insisted on buying it and she firmly took it to the counter and paid for it.

  It was later than they had expected when they returned home. Her Mom hurriedly worked on the appetizers while Sylvia set the table outside. The lovely day was turning into a perfect evening. The humidity of the day before had dissipated, blown away by the bay breeze. What was left was a warm day, blending the best of late spring and early summer. Sylvia changed into her new dress.

  “It’s lovely,” her mother said. “Don’t you want to save it for a special occasion?” she asked.

  “No,” Sylvia said firmly. “I just love it and want to wear it tonight.” She had brushed long hair until it gleamed, left it loose and added dangling white freshwater pearl earrings. She was barefoot and comfortable.

  Marian and Owen arrived promptly at 5:30. Owen carried in the salad and a bottle of wine tied with a ribbon. Marian held a bottle of her homemade dressing and a loaf of French bread.

  “Come in,” Sylvia said, inviting them inside. She introduced Owen to her Mother and giving him a shy smile, took the salad bowl.

  “Thanks,” he said, smiling at her. He handed the wine to her mother and said, “Nice to meet you,” and held out his hand.

  “Same,” her mother replied shaking his hand.

  Sylvia took the dressing and bread from Marian as her mother asked them to come into the living room. She had put the crackers, cheese and other hors d’oeuvres on the coffee table.

  “Syl, will you bring in the wine, please?” her mother asked her, leading Marian and Owen into the living room.

  Sylvia took a minute to open the wine before she went in to join the others. Her mother was asking Owen about his degree and the position he would be starting on Tuesday.

  He was amiable to the questions and answered with alacrity. Sylvia handed him one of the microbrews. He hesitated a moment and smiled gratefully to Sylvia’s mischievous smile and continued to answer her mother’s barrage of questions. Sylvia handed wine to her mother and Marian. When she filled her glass she saw Marian patting the seat next to her on the couch. Sylvia sat down next to her.

  “Pretty dress,” Marian whispered.

  “Thanks,” Sylvia whispered back, flashing a smile. She sipped at her wine allowing the conversation to flow around her. She found she enjoyed watching everyone interact. Sylvia pulled herself back to the conversation, refilled everyone’s wine glasses and went back to the kitchen to open another bottle from the refrigerator. When she came back, she heard her mother talking to Owen, sotto voce, about her difficulty in pushing Sylvia to find a viable career.

  Owen defended her decision regarding a Liberal Arts education, stating for her mother that it made her more employable. She walked in on their conversation.

  “I’ll be getting my resume together this week,” she said quietly, clearly indicating, in her voice, that she had heard their conversation.

  Her mother looked uncomfortable.

  Owen spoke up, “Once I get my foot in the door at Thurmont,” he said, “I can keep my ear out if any positions open up.”

  “Thank you,” Sylvia said, “I may take you up on that.” Sh
e turned to her mother, “Would you like me to light the grill?”

  “That would be great,” her mother told her.

  “Need help?” Owen asked.

  “No, I don’t think so,” Sylvia said. “I think I can handle it, but you’re welcome to come out and supervise,” she told him with a smile.

  He followed her out to the deck and she pushed a couple of buttons and ---‘poof’—the gas flame ignited and the grill was lit.

  “Hey, I’m sorry if I stirred up something in there,” he said referring to the conversation about a job.

  “No need for an apology,” Sylvia told him. “It’s a sore point between my mother and me. It’s definitely not a new argument. I wish she would give credit that I have half a brain and that I’m not eight years old anymore.”

  “You know, my Mom complains about the same thing from my grandmother,” he said smiling, “so I guess it continues with Moms despite your age.”

  They stood, leaning against the deck railing, sipping their wine.

  “Do you swim from here?” Owen asked nodding to the small stretch of beach at the end of Gran’s place. The neighborhood curved round a small cove on the bay with marinas at one end. The other end had a small wooded point that jutted out into the water. The houses that faced the water had a fairly narrow beach and Gran’s front yard was perched just above the beach at the center of the cove. Several had piers that stretched out into the bay. Far across the water you could glimpse the shoreline on the other side of the bay.

  “Yes,” Sylvia said. “It’s quite nice. It’s a rocky beach, but a few feet out, the bottom is sandy and it goes out at a gradual slope. It’s lovely on sweltering days and turns as warm as bathwater in the fall.”

  “I haven’t tested the water yet this year,” Sylvia told him. “If you ever want to swim, you’re welcome to come over,” she invited.

  “Thanks,” Owen said, “I may take you up on that as the humidity rises.”

  Her Mother brought out the salmon. “If you two can keep an eye on these salmon steaks, Marian and I will bring out the rest of the food. They shouldn’t take too long,” her mother told her.

  Sylvia nodded in response. She took the salmon steaks out of their marinade. They hissed wonderfully as she placed them on the greased foil that protected them from the flames on the hot grill. Fragrant steam wafted upwards toward them. Sylvia sniffed appreciatively.

  “Mom was right. These will only take a few minutes,” she told Owen and she turned the grill down a little bit.

  She looked out over the water. A golden glow seemed to settle over everything as twilight began.

  “The water traffic has calmed down quite a bit,” she commented as only a few sailboats were out in the water.

  “There’s not much of a breeze,” Owen said. “They’re likely catching the last bit and motoring into their slip.”

  “Do you sail?” Sylvia asked him.

  “Used too, as a kid,” he told her, “Marian and Bran belonged to the yacht club up the road here for years and years. Bran really enjoyed being out in a boat. I don’t think Marian enjoyed it much. Usually it was Bran, Dad and me,” he mused. “They sold their boat when then left for England. I haven’t had much time or opportunity in the last few years.”

  She turned the steaks. “Believe it or not, I practically grew up here and I have never sailed,” she said. “Boats were one of the very few things Gran did not like.”

  “I don’t have a boat anymore, but if you want to go out some time, I could teach you the basics. We can rent a boat at one of the marinas. I’m sure Marian still has contacts at the yacht club,” he mentioned.

  “That would be nice,” Sylvia answered.

  She looked at the steaks. “I think these are done,” she said. “Can you let Marian and Mom know that everything is ready?”

  “Sure,” Owen said, “How about a refill of wine as well?” he asked.

  Sylvia nodded, concentrating on the salmon and Owen went round the porch to refresh her wine. He informed Marian and Mary that the salmon steaks would be off the grill in a few minutes.

  Sylvia double checked that the salmon was completely cooked and turned off the grill. She put the salmon steaks on a fresh platter that her mother had set near the grill and took the steaming platter to the table.

  “Lovely,” Marian told her, “and it looks like your salad turned out well,” she said.

  “Yes,” Sylvia answered, “that’s a great recipe. Can I keep the cookbook for a couple of days and copy out a few recipes?” she asked Marian.

  “Certainly,” Marian said to her.

  The brief moments of tension between Sylvia and her mother melted over dinner with the additional wine. It was relaxed and peaceful. Marian kept them amused with stories when Sylvia remembered what Marian had shared yesterday.

  “Mom,” she said, “You never told me that Gran was an activist.”

  “Oh,” her mother replied rolling her eyes a little bit, “your grandmother! I grew up being dragged around from rally to rally. She was always going on about one cause or another. It was about animals, the environment, a change in government…,” her mother trailed off for a moment. “Your father and I gave her strict directions that she was not to influence you in that way.”

  “What?” Sylvia cried aghast. “Did you threaten her somehow?”

  Her mother looked uncomfortable as the tension rose again. “You could say that your father gave her an ultimatum,” she admitted.

  “Oh, come now, Mary,” Marian said calmly, patting her mother’s hand. “Certainly Holly meant no harm. She was trying to share with you a part of her lifestyle that was very important to her and many others.”

  “Maybe so,” answered Sylvia’s mother stoutly, “but John and I didn’t feel that Sylvia needed to be exposed to that while she was growing up. Basically we told her to calm down and clam up on the causes or not see Sylvia.”

  Sylvia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her parents had threatened to keep her from her grandmother! She had never known about that. It was difficult to hold her tongue, but she didn’t want to make a scene in front of Owen and Marian. Usually, she stomped out of a room slamming a door to express her anger. Frustrated, she clenched her hands under the table.

  “More wine?” Owen asked seeing her tensing up. He winked at her.

  Sylvia gave him a curt nod and looked as grateful as she could as he filled her glass almost to the brim. She took a long drink and continued to listen, too angry to speak.

  “Hmm,” Marian mused, “Now I know why she backed down on some of her causes. She never said in all these years.”

  “You have to admit, Marian,” Mary pushed the subject, “that some of those groups were fairly radical and some of the people. My goodness, that local group was full of lunatics! Ted Jamison! That Maureen Davenport woman! Was she a nut case or what? Think of how many times they were in the paper for their demonstrations at Thurmont! Mother was arrested twice. It was so embarrassing!”

  “You’re right, Mary,” Marian told her amicably, trying to make peace.

  “I’ll clear the table,” Owen offered, getting up, changing the subject. “Sylvia, can you tell me where to put some of this stuff?”

  Sylvia numbly got up to help too and together they loaded the dishwasher in a couple of minutes. Owen didn’t push her into conversation and she was glad. Owen filled her wine glass again and she took some sips and leaned back against the counter and closed her eyes.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “No problem,” he said. “It sounds as though a lot of this was quite a shock.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Sylvia said bitterly. “I never, never knew about how horrible my parents were to Gran!” her voice trailed into silent anger.

  “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but they thought it was for the best for you,” he said to her.

  Sylvia shook her head while she put coffee on.

  “Poor Gran!” Sylvia said, “I’m s
hocked she let them control her like that. She was so independent! Ask Marian and she’ll tell you…” her voice trailed off as emotion swam to the surface once again. Sylvia quickly sipped more of her wine.

  “She acquiesced because she loved you,” Owen said softly.

  “I know,” Sylvia said, resigned. The tears were pricking behind her eyelids as a few started to fall down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t able to cry for a long time, and now,” she sniffed audibly.

  “Now you can’t seem to stop, right?” he finished.

  She nodded and pulled out a tray from the cupboard. She put the coffee mugs, creamer and sugar on the tray as well before she said, “I wish you had had the opportunity to meet her. She is,” Sylvia paused with a shivery sigh, “She was pretty amazing,” Sylvia said.

  “I’ve gathered that,” Owen said quietly.

  Owen returned to the deck while Sylvia went to splash cold water on her face. By the time Sylvia reappeared on the deck, Marian had her Mom calmed down and laughing over another story, but Sylvia couldn’t let it go yet. She sat stiffly.

  “Coffee’s on,” she announced when she sat down. She was still a little bristly.

  “Thanks,” her mother said. “I’ll go in and get the dessert in just a minute.”

  “Marvelous dinner,” Owen told them. “Thank you. I’m not used to these wonderful meals. I’m getting spoiled between this and living at Marian’s,” he said.

  “You’re very welcome,” Mary answered, smiling at him. She got up to get the dessert.

  “Do you need help?” Marian asked.

  “No, I’m fine,” Mary told her. “I’ll put everything on a tray and be out in just a minute.”

  “Are you all right?” Marian asked Sylvia quietly. “This must have been quite a shock for you.”

  Sylvia nodded to Marian, a little afraid to speak due to the emotions welling within her. Sylvia took a deep breath and stared out at the water and the blinking lights from the boats that started to fill the twilight on the bay.

  “What a lovely evening,” Marian commented as Mary returned to the deck with coffee and dessert. “Just look at the colors in the sky.”