by Joyce Magnin
He looked at the screen, then at the scone. He sipped his latte, and that was when he noticed a tall burly man wearing a cowboy hat walking toward him. He was with a girl, probably his daughter, Henry thought. The two sat directly across from Henry.
The cowboy hat the man wore intrigued Henry. It was a vintage, black, rancher-style Stetson made of beaver fur felt and probably had a satin lining. Henry knew this from his research and thought perhaps he was the only one in the restaurant who knew. He smiled and went back to his work, kind of wondering about the appeal of cowboy hats in the twenty-first century.
“I like her,” the girl said. “She’s a nice old lady. I don’t want her to get hurt, not like before.”
Henry looked up again. It was hard not to eavesdrop. After all, it was in the writer’s handbook that eavesdropping could be a good way to learn something about dialog, not to mention find a plot.
“I like her too, darlin’,” the cowboy said. “But she’ll be all right. Widows like her have all kinds of money. She’ll be okay.”
Henry watched as the girl sipped a soda. “I hope so, Pop. I like this one.”
Henry wondered if they might be up to no good. He paused from his work to listen more.
“I’m gonna have to call her today,” the man said. “Arrange for more money.” Then he leaned back and patted his paunch. “Costs a lot of money to keep a gold mine humming.”
Gold mine? Now Henry was really intrigued. This could be just what he needed for his book. What if Cash discovered gold? It would solve all his troubles.
Henry wrote a few notes about it in his notebook: Research gold mines. Grass Valley. Mining supplies in late nineteenth century.
He sipped his latte. Yep, a gold mine could be just what the doctor ordered. He went back to work, only stopping for a JavaScone sandwich for lunch.
Florence dropped Harriet off in front of the house.
“There’s Prudence’s car,” Harriet said. “I wonder why she’s home. I hope she’s okay. And Henry’s BMW is gone.”
A flashback of Henry’s call that Pru had suffered yet another miscarriage surfaced in her mind. She looked into Florence’s eyes. “I’d invite you in but I think I better check this out.”
Florence waved. “Sure. Call me if you need anything.”
Harriet closed the car door and hurried up the path. She pushed open the door and Humphrey trotted right to her. He let go three short woofs, a signal usually that something was wrong.
Harriet dropped her packages. “What is it, boy? Where’s Prudence?”
“Over here.” She heard Pru’s voice but didn’t see her.
“Where?”
Prudence poked her head over the back of the couch. “Here.”
“Are you okay, dear?” Harriet asked. “What’s wrong? Where’s Henry? Should I call the doctor?”
“No. I’m fine. And Henry left a note that he went to a coffee shop to work. I was just feeling a little nauseated and thought I would work at home, but I’ve got to tell you, I feel awful.”
Harriet sat next to her and patted her knee. “How far along are you again?”
“About nine weeks. I waited a long time to take the test. I wanted to be sure.”
“Then you’re right on schedule for morning sickness if you’re going to have it.”
“But it’s afternoon,” Prudence said.
“Yeah, well, it can hit anytime. It’s normal. Right as rain. Nothing to worry about. I mean you’re not … spotting or cramping, right?”
Prudence shook her head.
“Okay, you’re fine. The baby is fine. Maybe some crackers.”
Harriet looked into Prudence’s eyes. She saw something she didn’t think she had ever noticed before. It was a little sad and a little dreamy.
“Are you okay?” Harriet asked. “I mean, besides the morning sickness?”
Prudence looked away for a fraction of a second and then turned back to Harriet. “I guess I’ve been thinking about my mother lately.”
“I guess you have. It must be so hard. You miss her terribly, don’t you?” Harriet continued to pat Prudence’s knee.
Prudence squirmed a little on the comfy couch. “I don’t know if I miss her terribly or if I’m angry. But some days, like today, I sure miss having a mother around—to help and … you know, be with me.”
“You have me.”
Prudence smiled. Her eyes now glistened with tears. “I know. And I really am happy you’re here with us. Henry is also.”
“And I’m glad to be here. I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be.”
Harriet touched the side of her face. “How about if I go get those crackers and some tea?”
Prudence smiled.
“Be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail. Now, you just rest.”
Harriet set the kettle on to boil and had just located the box of soda crackers when the back deck slider flew open. Humphrey bolted for the door and was outside lickety-split. Harriet jumped, but then she laughed when she saw Florence standing in the kitchen holding yet another pie.
“I thought you all could use something sweet,” she said. “When you didn’t call, I thought probably everything was all right over here.” Harriet decided not to be jealous, that Florence evidently had just-walk-right-in-the-door privileges here. She could tell that Florence really cared about the kids.
“Another pie? You must bake a pie every day.”
“Pretty much,” Florence said, putting the pie on the table. “Blueberry today. How’s Prudence?”
“She’s fine. Morning sickness. Her first time. She never got sick with the others.”
Florence nodded. “I hear that’s sometimes a sign. Being so sick you want to die is a good thing when you’re pregnant.”
“I had heard that also,” Harriet said. She arranged eight crackers around a small plate and set a blue teacup in the center.
“Crackers are good, but pie is better,” Florence said.
“Maybe we should let her stomach settle first.”
The kettle whistle blew, and Harriet made three cups of tea and carried it all out to the living room on a vintage Pepsi tray—the one with girls on a beach having way too much fun drinking Pepsi. The slogan read, “The drink that satisfies.”
“Here we are,” Harriet said in a sing-songy voice.
“Thank you,” Prudence said, sitting up straighter. “Hi, Mrs. Caldwell.”
“Now haven’t I told you a dozen times to call me Florence. And, you know, crackers are good, but I brought pie.”
Harriet watched Prudence’s eyes light up. She did like Florence’s pies. But Prudence looked at Florence and said, “Thanks, but maybe just the crackers for now.”
Harriet patted Prudence’s knee. “You just let those crackers settle, and then we’ll think about blueberry pie.”
Florence stayed for a few more minutes before she excused herself. “As long as all is well here, I think I’ll skedaddle.”
“Thank you for stopping by and for the pie,” Prudence said.
“No need to show me out.”
“Would you let Humphrey inside?” Harriet asked. “Oh, and pick up your special pie tin from the lemon meringue pie. It’s on the counter. I forgot to give it to you this morning when you picked me up.”
Harriet enjoyed her time with Prudence. It was the first time in, well, ever that the two of them had spent so much time together just talking. It seemed now they had something in common. Prudence seemed to enjoy the stories Harriet told of her pregnancy and Henry’s delivery.
“Let’s just say he took his time,” Harriet said. “Three false alarms and thirty-six hours of labor. I thought maybe I was giving birth to a hippo. And don’t get me started on Max, for goodness sake that husband of mine …”
Prudence’s eyes grew wide. Harriet changed the subject.
“So the builders are coming next Monday,” Harriet said. “I am just so excited.”
“Yes, yes,” Prudence said. “Bright and early.”
> “How long did they say the project will take again?”
“Two months, start to finish.”
Harriet did the same quick calculations she had done before. “That means I really will be in my own place by Christmas.”
“Yes,” Prudence said. “Then we’ll get started on the nursery. I figured Christmas would be a good time to start.” Sandra Day jumped onto Prudence’s lap. Harriet liked to see Prudence give the cat some attention, although she knew that some cats, like Sandra Day, didn’t require much, not like Humphrey.
“Sounds good to me,” Harriet said. “Have you got any thoughts on décor?”
“For your Grammy Suite or the nursery?”
“Well, dear, I thought that I would decorate my suite. I was talking about the nursery.”
“That’s what I thought. No, not really. I just know I want the nursery light and airy and full of books and pictures and soft things.”
“Ha, that’s pretty much how I was thinking about the Grammy Suite.”
Prudence yawned and patted her tummy. “Do you think I’m showing yet?”
“Well, maybe a little. But don’t rush it.” She smiled as she took off her sneakers. “Say, I bought a few things for Martha’s visit. Would you like to see?”
“Sure,” Prudence said. “But I am pretty certain I have a little baby bump going on here.”
“Darling, the baby is the size of a peach pit right now.”
Harriet had just picked up her bags when she heard her phone jingle. “That might be Martha,” she called to Prudence. “Will you excuse me?”
“Sure,” Prudence said. “Take your time. I think I’ll rest a bit.”
Henry closed his laptop. He had had enough writing for one day. He checked his phone. It was almost three o’clock. He tossed his trash into the can and stuffed his computer into his leather messenger bag. The cowboy and the girl had long gone, but Henry was still very excited about the prospect of having a gold strike in his new book.
“How hard can gold mining be?” he said to himself on the way outside. “A pick, an axe, maybe some pans and, presto! Gold nuggets.”
Feeling quite pleased with his new plot twist, Henry walked down Main Street. He passed Rachel’s Café, but he wasn’t hungry so he went on to the Viking Bakery. He had promised Harriet he would bring donuts home for Humphrey.
“Six glazed, please.” He ordered extra because Prudence might enjoy something sweet. “Warm ones if you have them.”
“Just out,” the girl behind the counter said. “Only six?”
“Oh, make it a dozen.”
Henry was feeling so good. There wasn’t much that could burst his bubble that day. He paid for the donuts, and as he opened the bakery door he noticed their bulletin board. His eyes fell on a flyer that read, “Gold mines for lease. Don’t get duped. Call the professionals.”
“Now there’s a sign if ever there was one.” He peeled off one of the telephone tabs. “For research.” Henry didn’t think he would ever actually invest in anything as sketchy as a gold mine. But with the baby coming, who knew?
Chapter Twelve
“DON’T STOP RINGING,” HARRIET SAID AS SHE SEARCHED her bag.
But unfortunately, when she found her phone tucked in the very bottom of the large bag, the jingling had stopped.
She looked at the screen. It was Win who had called, not Martha. She felt both disappointed and excited. Maybe they struck gold.
Humphrey followed Harriet onto the deck. She wanted to return Win’s call out of earshot of Prudence.
“Harriet,” Win said. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. I’m sorry I didn’t pick up when you just called. I couldn’t get to my phone. It was stuck in the bottom of my tote again.”
“Oh, that’s no trouble at all, darlin’.”
“I’m glad. So what’s up? Good news, I hope.”
“Well now, in a matter of speaking it’s good news.”
Harriet sat down at the deck table where the sun was warm. “Uh oh, I don’t like the sound of that, Win.”
“Now, it’s nothing huge. It’s just that the boys have been working awful hard. In fact, too hard. We don’t have the machinery to keep up with how much gravel and dirt they’re going through. That’s where you can help.”
“I can?” Harriet imagined herself climbing the mountains and using a shovel or pickax or whatever it was they used up there. “But how?”
“That’s easy. The boys are asking for a second sluice box and another trommel too.”
“Trommel?”
Win laughed. “Why don’t you just meet us down at the bank before it closes, and I’ll explain it to you.”
“But I just this minute got back from town. Can it wait until tomorrow?” But then she remembered. Martha was coming.
“Okay. I’ll just slip my sneakers back on. How much do you think you’ll need?”
“Not much, darlin’. A paltry amount when you consider how much gold we’re fixin’ to get out of all that dirt we move through the trommel.”
“Sounds exciting,” Harriet said. She had images of great mounds of dirt being forced through a giant flour sifter. But that couldn’t be right, could it? “I can meet you at the bake … I mean bank in a half hour or so.”
“I’m already here,” Win said. “Lily and I will just wait right here for you, pretty lady.”
“Okay.” But then she remembered Henry was gone and had taken the BMW. “I guess I can take the SUV if Prudence doesn’t need it,” she told Win. “My Vespa would take too long.”
“You mean one of them bitty scooters?” Win said.
Harriet thought she might have detected a certain amount of derision in his voice. But then he chuckled. “That’s super cool, Harriet. I knew you were one special lady.”
Harriet tapped off her phone. “Trommel? Sluice box? Gold mining sure takes a lot of equipment.”
She patted Humphrey, who was looking at her like she had just lost her mind. “Now, don’t you start worrying. I’m certain it will pay off.”
Harriet went back inside and checked on Prudence first.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Much better,” Prudence said. “In fact, I would love a slice of that pie if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Course not. I’ll go get it.”
Harriet sliced into the pie. The nearly purple juice flowed like lava and the sweet, succulent aroma lifted to the air. It smelled sweet and refreshing and healthy. “Blueberries always did smell clean,” she said. She dropped a chunk of crust on the floor for Humphrey, who lapped it up like there was no tomorrow. Next Harriet poured a glass of milk. “One percent,” she read. “It’s whole milk now.”
“Thank you,” Prudence said as Harriet set the plate and milk on the ottoman they used as a coffee table. It was soft and thick, and the serving trays always came in handy, otherwise the milk would spill onto Prudence’s carpet.
“Now, don’t you worry about the dishes,” Harriet said. “I’ll clean up when I get back.”
“Back? Are you going out again?”
Harriet swallowed. “Yes. I … I forgot something. Do you mind if I take the SUV? I won’t be long.” Prudence said she didn’t mind her taking her car, but Harriet was thinking. Now she’d done it. She’d lied. Harriet did not like to lie. It was one thing to just choose not to tell someone something, but to out loud lie was quite another. Harriet’s heart sank.
But as she made her way to the door, she justified the lie by thinking of the baby’s future college career.
Henry jiggled the donut box as he entered the house. Humphrey came running.
“Here you go, boy.” The dog leaped with about as much joy as a Basset could muster. Henry fed him the donut. “Nice and fresh.”
“Hey.”
Henry looked up. Startled. “Mom? You sound funny.”
“It’s me,” Prudence said.
Henry looked toward the couch and saw Prudence.
“What are you doing hom
e? Are you okay?”
“Yes. Just some morning sickness. Your mother was here taking care of me. I’m fine now.”
Henry leaned over and kissed Prudence. “Um, blueberry. Pie?”
“Florence brought it over. Pretty tasty.”
“I have donuts.” He set them on the coffee ottoman before joining Prudence on the couch.
“I’ll have one of them too.”
“So where’s Mom now?”
“She took the SUV back into town.” Prudence readjusted herself. “Said she forgot something. She was out all morning buying things for Martha and then having lunch with Florence.”
“Wait. That’s tomorrow. Martha arrives tomorrow—at one o’clock. Isn’t that—”
“I know,” Prudence said. “I didn’t put it together until now, but we have that ultrasound appointment at one. There’s no way you can do both.”
Henry touched Prudence’s cheek. “I am not missing the ultrasound. Martha will just have to wait at the airport. She’ll be fine.”
Prudence caught Henry’s hand in hers. “I really want you there. Doctor Kate said it’s early for the first ultrasound, but given my history she said she’d feel a little better having it done. Guess I’m considered high risk.”
“I like the idea too. I can’t wait to see the baby.”
Prudence sighed. “How was your day? Get much done?”
Henry nodded. “Great. Great day. I got a lot done, and I came up with the perfect twist. A gold mine. I think Cash is going to discover gold.”
Prudence let go a small laugh. “That’s brilliant. And perfect for the setting. There was a lot of gold mining going on in these parts.”
“I know,” Henry said. “Still is. I saw an advertisement for leasing a mine.”
Prudence shook her head. ‘No. Don’t even think about it. Too risky. And it takes years.”
“I know.” Henry settled back into the couch as Humphrey ambled by, asking for a second donut. “Mom will kill me but … okay.” He fed one to the dog and then handed one to Prudence.
“As long as Mom doesn’t think she’s driving into Sacramento by herself.”
“Just tell her no,” Prudence said.
Henry let go a nervous laugh.