I’ll look forward to your reply.
With love,
Sallie
P.S. I’ve enclosed a few pictures I took of the ocean for you to show Frannie and Cousin Essie, okay?
Sallie folded the letter and then addressed the envelope. Seeing her street name and city made her wince slightly. Oh, how she missed her family already, especially Frannie.
Does she regret my leaving? Sallie wondered, getting up to remove the bobby pins from her long hair.
Recalling Frannie’s happiness over her engagement, Sallie felt certain that much of Frannie’s free time on weekends would be spent with Jesse Stoltzfus. “She’ll hardly notice I’m gone,” she whispered, seeing where the tan lines ended as she changed into her nightgown. A gut thing I slathered on sunscreen.
She thought again of Autumn and their wonderful day, imagining her now curled up next to her mother, perhaps, talking or saying her bedtime prayers.
Later, after her own nighttime prayers, Sallie rolled over in the delightfully soft bed and considered Perry for the first moment since arriving. It was an odd feeling to know that a young man was out there, looking forward to her return.
Early the next morning, Sallie took a banana and a cup of coffee out to the small deck. There she enjoyed the pleasant view of the pond and trees, conscious of the birdsong that had begun at four-thirty, more than an hour ago. Mindful of God’s glorious handiwork, no matter which direction she looked, she tried to picture what it might be like to live full-time near the sea, just steps away from the beach.
It was then she realized her immediate fondness for this place had nearly replaced her typical hunger for books. Naturally, she thought, laughing. She left her coffee on the patio table and went inside for her new devotional from Cousin Essie.
“Such a dear,” Sallie murmured, sitting down again and reaching for her coffee. The next hour belonged solely to her, since Monique wanted her to arrive around seven o’clock to get Autumn up and dressed and to make breakfast.
To think I’m being paid to be here!
She opened to the reading for June seventeenth, which began with a verse from Jeremiah. “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
Reading on, Sallie felt certain this unexpected time in Cape May was more than just a chance for her to see something of the world. “It’s a time for reflection,” she whispered, “to know God’s will.”
She thought again of Perry, and this time she bowed her head and prayed for divine guidance in all her ways.
Arriving a few minutes early at the Logans’, Sallie made her way to their sliding back door and was greeted by Monique holding a fussy baby.
Monique’s face looked pale and drawn. “Autumn has been talking about the Salt Marsh Safari, so I made online reservations for the two of you,” she said, mentioning that a cab would take them out to the Cape May Inlet Marina. “She got herself up early and is all set for breakfast,” Monique said, adding, “Very unusual.”
Sallie stepped inside and smiled when Autumn appeared, already dressed, her hair pulled back in a sparkly white hair clasp.
She hurried to Sallie’s side. “Wait till you see the newborn tern chicks on the safari,” Autumn said, her face alight. “They were so cute last summer.”
“I’m lookin’ forward to spendin’ the day with you again,” Sallie said.
Monique lifted Connor onto her shoulder and rubbed his back. “Believe me, it’s a cruise you’ll never forget.”
“There’s even a laughing gull!” Autumn said, grinning. “You’ll see.”
Monique explained that the twin hull pontoon took a calm route. “The back bay waters are shallow—only two feet deep in places—so there’s no chance of getting seasick.”
Autumn nodded. “And Mommy knows all about that.”
Sallie noticed that Autumn seemed more content leaving her mother today. Perhaps mother and daughter had enjoyed some time alone last evening. Sallie hoped so.
Sallie headed to the kitchen with Autumn. “Scrambled eggs or fried?” she asked.
“Cold cereal’s okay today, with toast and strawberry jam,” Autumn said, setting the table.
“Are ya sure?” Sallie gently explained the importance of having plenty to eat to start such a big day.
Autumn seemed to consider that. “Some applesauce, too, please.”
Sallie smiled, trying to remember being nine years old.
On the way out to the front yard to wait for the taxi, Autumn offered to put Sallie’s letter in the mailbox. “How often will you write letters home?” Autumn asked, putting up the little red flag.
“Well, it helps to keep in touch, ya know. So, as often as I can.”
Autumn nodded. “Maybe your sister Frannie could come and visit you. Would she want to?”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
“My parents wouldn’t care—that’s why Daddy built the guesthouse. And you could both hang out with me.”
Immediately, Sallie’s brain was churning with exciting possibilities for her and Frannie. If she can slip away. She made a mental note to ask Monique about it.
“I bet Frannie would like it here, too,” Autumn said as the taxi came into view.
Sallie reached for Autumn’s hand as the vehicle slowed to a stop at the curb.
“Just wait till we’re on The Skimmer!” Autumn giggled, reaching to open the back door and hopping in.
Catching the girl’s infectious exuberance, Sallie scooted in next to her, eager to experience the sights Monique and Autumn had described. And before Sallie could tell the driver their destination, Autumn announced it herself, calling the cabbie by name—Mr. Clifford.
Sallie had to smile. For sure and for certain, it seemed Autumn knew everyone in this town.
18
The coastal wetlands tour fascinated Sallie—definitely something to share in a letter. Prior to today, Sallie hadn’t even known what an osprey or egret was, let alone what they looked like, but she was able to use a pair of binoculars to see both birds close up while the tour guide narrated their journey through the back bay. She had never seen crabs, either, and the crew had caught a number to bring on board. Best of all, though, was the experience of putting her hands in the tank to actually touch some of these creatures, as did Autumn, her eyes wide as half-dollars.
At one point, Autumn told Sallie she had a question for a naturalist, so Sallie went with her to inquire of the young man introduced at the beginning of the trip simply as Kevin—a summer intern on the forty-foot Skimmer.
Motioning to Autumn, Sallie told the fellow, “We have a question.”
“Absolutely!” Kevin leaned down to meet Autumn halfway, his wavy brown hair burnished in the sunlight. “What would you like to know, young lady?”
Autumn cupped her hand around her mouth. “How soon can a baby kingfisher fly from its nest?”
Kevin nodded and flashed a grin that reached his brown eyes. “Terrific question!” He gave a quick overview of the bird with the slate blue head. “A young kingfisher can usually fly from the nest in a little over three weeks. By six weeks’ time, it’s totally independent from its parents, if you can imagine that.” He paused. “And after a year, that young bird can start its own family.”
“Wow!” Autumn said, looking now at Sallie.
“It doesn’t take long for a kingfisher to grow up, does it?” Kevin added.
Autumn shook her head and reached for Sallie’s hand.
“Are ya satisfied, sweetie?” Sallie asked quietly.
Autumn nodded and squinted up at him. “Thank you, sir.”
“Just call me Kevin. And if you have other questions, I’ll be right here.” He offered her a high five.
“Thanks,” Autumn said, then went with Sallie to look again at the crabs.
As gulls flapped their graceful wings overhead, The Skimmer moved past a gathering of sandpipers, seemingly undisturbed by the
boat’s appearance. The day was simply perfect.
A while later, Kevin came over to tell them about a kids’ program at the Nature Center of Cape May, handing Sallie a brochure. “Since you’re interested in kingfishers,” he said to Autumn, “maybe you’d enjoy a birding class. Loads of fun, too.”
Autumn perked right up. “My mom enrolled me the last two years at the nature center. Discovery Kids camp, right?”
“Great choice.” Kevin nodded and glanced at Sallie as if a bit puzzled.
“Oh, she’s not my mother,” Autumn was quick to say. “This is Miss Sallie, my nanny.”
“I thought you looked too young to be her mother! Pleased to meet you, Sallie.” He extended his hand, smiling broadly.
“Thanks for bein’ so patient with Autumn.” Sallie shook his hand, not knowing what else to say.
“Well, you two enjoy the rest of the safari,” Kevin said before heading over to talk with another family at the opposite end of the boat.
Autumn’s eyes twinkled up at Sallie, eyebrows high. “He was really nice,” she whispered. “And he didn’t even blink about your Amish clothes.”
“How ’bout that,” Sallie said, glancing at Kevin, who was engaged in conversation with a few other youngsters. At just that moment, he caught her eye and smiled.
Quickly, Sallie looked away, her face growing warm.
In Sallie’s letter to Frannie that evening, she shared everything she’d learned from the salt marsh voyage. I keep discovering things I’ve never read in books.
Once she finished writing, Sallie showered and dressed for bed. What new adventures would tomorrow hold? And what could possibly top this interesting day? she thought before slipping into bed and saying her silent prayers.
After Sallie made eggs and waffles for Autumn and herself Wednesday morning, Autumn showed Sallie the upstairs balcony, which extended all around the house. From there, not only the ocean was visible, but also the gleaming white tower of the Cape May Lighthouse, to the southwest in Cape May Point State Park. Sallie could’ve lingered much longer, gazing in all directions, but Autumn was eager to show her the rock tumbler, as well as a few of her drawings. Meanwhile, Connor cried, and even though Monique was with him downstairs in the far-off master bedroom, the howling seemed to bother Autumn. “He doesn’t feel good,” she explained. “Mommy says it’s his tummy.”
“Poor little fella.” Sallie imagined Monique holding the little one, trying her best to soothe him.
In her room, Autumn pulled out her art portfolio, removing the first drawing. “This is called the Best-Ever Lighthouse.”
“Say now, this looks just like the real one.” Sallie shook her head in amazement, surprised at the quality of the drawing. “How on earth did ya sketch this?”
“Daddy and Mommy take me to see it sometimes. We go there to show our relatives whenever any come visit.” She went on to say that she and her father had climbed all one hundred ninety-nine steps to the top.
Sallie marveled at the texture in the drawing. “How’d you learn to do this?”
“At art class after school back in Philly.”
“Even so, you’re quite young to know so many tricks!”
Autumn pulled out the next drawing in the black folder. “Want to see my tree house in our backyard? Daddy built it for me.”
“Goodness . . . just look at how you drew the rope swing! It looks so real.” Sallie laughed. “It reminds me of the long one in our hayloft, where my sisters and I used to play when we were little. Our older brothers wore out the original rope before my sisters, Laura and Frannie, were born.”
Autumn looked wistful for a moment. “Two sisters and seven brothers. I wonder what that would be like.”
“Growin’ up, I sometimes wished I was an only child!”
“You did?”
Sallie smiled and nodded. “Every now and then . . . but never for long, and that was years ago. Having siblings to grow up with was a wonderful-gut thing. In fact, the more, the merrier.”
Autumn laughed a hearty belly laugh. “You’re joking, right?”
“No, honey. After my faith in the Lord God, my family means everything to me.”
This seemed to affect Autumn, because she turned to move to the window and stood there for the longest time as Sallie looked around at the pretty room, with its white walls and striped pink and green bedspread. Three starfish pillows lined up across the oak headboard.
“Mind if I look at your next drawing?” Sallie asked after a little while.
“Okay,” Autumn said, her voice sounding small now.
Sallie reached into the folder and saw a pencil sketch of a pregnant blond woman holding a girl’s hand, a tall man standing behind them. “I really like this one,” she said, hoping Autumn might return.
Autumn crept back and sat on the double bed, undeniably curious. “Oh, that’s Mommy, Daddy, and me before . . . well, you know.”
“All lookin’ so happy.” Sallie pointed to the girl’s big smile.
Autumn nodded slowly. “We were.” The emphasis fell on the last word.
Sallie sighed, then suggested a game of Scrabble Junior, and Autumn quickly agreed.
As the noon hour approached, Sallie went to the immaculate yellow and white kitchen and, with some help from Autumn, made turkey and cheese sandwiches.
“Mommy likes celery and carrot sticks instead of potato chips,” Autumn advised, showing Sallie where the paper plates were kept. “We eat lots of fruit at lunch, too, like blueberries and cantaloupe. Oh, and strawberries dipped in chocolate sauce.”
“Now you’re talkin’!” Sallie giggled for Autumn’s sake. “Have you ever picked strawberries?”
“No. What’s that like?”
While they ate by themselves at the kitchen island, Sallie described the process, as well as the strawberry festival her uncle Rudy had each June.
Monique soon arrived, dark circles under her eyes and looking haggard, and Autumn continued her near-constant chatter, although the nature center was now foremost on her mind. She asked her mother if it was all right for her to attend a week of summer day camp, like last year.
“Check the class options on my laptop.” Monique covered her mouth as she yawned. “I’m sorry, honey . . . I’m very tired today; otherwise, I’d help you look.”
Connor started to cry again in the nursery, and Monique excused herself, leaving her lunch half eaten.
“Mommy doesn’t get much sleep at night anymore.” Autumn looked forlorn.
“It’s hard on mothers at first, babies getting their nights and days all mixed up.”
“But this baby cries his lungs out.”
This baby . . .
Sallie felt at a loss to know how to alter Autumn’s reaction to her baby brother. She also realized Monique needed more help. Surely the woman was sleep deprived. On the other hand, Sallie certainly didn’t want Autumn to feel rejected by her when it was Autumn she had been hired to look after.
“I pray for Mommy every night.” For a moment, Autumn looked like she might cry, but then, quite unexpectedly, she changed the subject. “In my dreams at night, I’m a mermaid, swimming and swimming.”
Startled, Sallie folded her hands on the island counter. “Is that right?”
“Mommy’s a mermaid, too. Just the two of us swim wherever we want to.”
“And your daddy?”
Autumn started to giggle. “He’s not a mermaid!”
“Ach, you’re right.” Sallie clapped her hands and burst out laughing, then rose to get the apple and orange slices she’d prepared earlier. It struck her that Autumn hadn’t mentioned her baby brother being in her dreams, either. Connor isn’t connected to her just yet. . . .
And at that moment, Sallie realized how absolutely quiet the house had become. Little Connor’s crying had stopped at last.
19
Feeling completely inadequate, Sallie did her best to look up classes on the computer after lunch. Autumn’s ability to navigate the machine du
mbfounded her as they sat side by side at the kitchen island peering at the laptop screen. Autumn demonstrated how to scroll through the nature center’s website to explore the children’s summer class options, everything from bats, bees, and bugs to reptiles, sharks, and ocean exploration.
“Ooh, here’s a class called Flying High . . . maybe it’s the one that nice tour guide was talking about. You learn about owls, eagles, ospreys, and other kinds of raptors.”
Sallie said, “For someone who’s as interested in birds as you, it sounds perfect.”
“Okay, that’s the class I want.” Autumn pointed to next week’s camp schedule, which ran Monday through Friday from nine o’clock in the morning to noon. “When Mommy’s finished resting, I’ll ask her to sign me up.”
Wishing she was able to do the task herself, Sallie felt awkward as she observed Autumn jot down her chosen class and post the piece of paper on the corkboard with a brightly colored tack. Like a fish out of water . . .
Toward suppertime, Monique returned to the kitchen after a nap, more refreshed now, and Sallie felt relieved. Monique said Connor was still sleeping, but she seemed concerned that he wouldn’t sleep again tonight if she let him rest too long.
“I’ve tried everything I know to do to help with his colic,” she said, shaking her head.
“Just a thought, but have ya tried eliminating dairy from your diet?” Sallie shared that her mother and aunts had found good results with their colicky babies after doing so. “Also, bundling Connor at bedtime might help.”
Monique lit up. “Thanks for the tips.”
“And I know we’ve talked a little about this, but if you need to be spelled off at times, please let me know.”
Monique suggested that Sallie could stay with Connor while Monique drove Autumn to summer camp, if Autumn was still interested.
“She certainly is . . . in fact, there’s a note on the board for you.” Sallie motioned toward it, smiling. “And I’d love to look after Connor while Autumn’s away.”
The Ebb Tide Page 10