by JM Dragon
“Me, a heart? Who would have thought it?” she theatrically spoke to the old cottage before tentatively stepping onto the old wooden deck. Several moans and groans accompanied her weight on the plank and she grinned. “Hmm, I do that in a morning too.”
Claire peered into the house through one of the nearest grime-covered window panels. She scrubbed the glass with her hand, and an area swirled in front of her that allowed her to see into the cottage. It was dark and uninviting, clearly needing some tender loving care. Solid objects covered with drop cloths to keep the dust out littered the room. Some hope of that. The place didn’t look as if anyone had entered the property for years. When was the last time she had…? Okay, no access to that memory.
The squawk of a bird drew her attention toward the overgrown area to her right. A lanky tree of distinctly odd proportions stood to the side with as much foliage as her armpits—none. A lone, sparrow-like bird stood proud on the highest branch. It was pretty, with an orange yellow breast and black head and speckled white on black wings. It twittered at her again, and she shook her head and turned away.
The commotion above her continued in earnest.
“What’s up with you, buddy? Haven’t you found a worm for breakfast yet?” Claire feigned a scowl, then chuckled.
She fumbled in her pockets and drew out an oatmeal cookie. Mrs. Rank had insisted she take something with her from the breakfast table. Dutifully Claire had wrapped the cookie in a paper napkin and intended to dispose of it rather than eat it. Oatmeal tastes like gravel. How can anyone like it?
She broke off a part, crumbled it in her hand, and threw it at the foot of the tree which, remarkably, was reasonably clear of overgrowth.
The bird immediately swooped down and began to eat the crumbles.
“Everything has its worth in this life—even a horrid cookie.” She stepped down from the deck and the bird flew into the shrubbery. “Not quite friends yet, hey, buddy?” She headed to the side of the house to go to the ridge.
Several times twigs and tangled reeds struck her, so her progress was slow. Having only one arm to push ahead was awkward and frustrating. A twig snapped in her face, and the sting had her cursing.
Eventually she reached the safety of open space, and her heart swelled at the sight before her. Water as far as the eye could see entranced her. She drew in a breath at the simplicity of nature and the sheer wow factor. Even the pesky vegetation that had attacked her had merit in its own way.
A massive flat stone was in front of her, and she sat on it.
As the beauty in front of Claire spellbound her, thoughts of her parents rushed like the sea coming into her brain. Her father in particular. Other than the business, golf was the only pastime he entertained. As she found out later in life, flirting with women young enough to be his daughter was another one of his dalliances. What a loser.
The aggression she had always harbored toward him soared inside her, and her cheeks grew warm. She looked down at her hands. She sighed, expressing the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.
“You found it. It’s marvelous, isn’t it?”
The joyful sound of Kris’s voice allowed Claire to relinquish her anger, and her body relaxed. Moving her head, she looked at the woman who was standing about three feet from her.
“I did. Yes, it’s just as great as you said.”
Kris held out a set of keys, her face wreathed in a grin. “Want to explore the cottage?”
The excited words had Claire purse her lips slightly. The woman seemed to revel in the simplest of things, allowing herself to become part of this innocent world even if it was for only a month. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
Chapter Eight
The lock grudgingly gave as Kris turned the key, and the creak of the unoiled hinges irritated her eardrums.
“Seems no one has been here for years,” Claire said.
“Yeah, Mrs. Rank seemed reluctant to give up the key. Would you believe it was on a chain around her neck? I think this place has a special significance for her.”
They entered the cottage and the dust bunnies scampered around, filling the air with floating particles as the breeze entered.
“Smells a bit, doesn’t it?” “Musty, like one of those secondhand bookstores.” Claire moved to stand beside Kris.
Kris raised her eyebrows. “You don’t look like the type who goes to old bookstores.”
“Really? What type do I look like?” Claire inquired.
Kris bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
“None taken. In fact, I’ll have you know when I was in college, I frequented one of those stores for months. With a hot older woman behind the counter. No healthy lesbian worth her salt would have passed up the chance to have her notice you.”
Kris laughed. “And did she notice you?”
“Everyone does, right?” Claire waved her good hand theatrically over her face. “But no, she didn’t. Those darned musty books were her life, at least while I was in college. What about you?”
“I didn’t go to college.”
“Really? I’m surprised.”
Kris walked past the furniture shrouded in dusty sheets and stopped at the arch leading to the kitchen area. “Wow.”
Claire followed. “Okay, I’m game. What’s the wow for?”
“This has a kitchen area more advanced than the one I have in my apartment. A bit of elbow grease and it will look great. Have you seen that oven? I’m in love.”
Claire laughed. “In love with a cooking range, my, that’s some competition.”
“Look at it, Claire, it’s beautiful. I know it’s vintage 1930s, but with a cleanup, I bet we can make her enamel shine like it did in the old days. Don’t you just love black and white?” Kris ran her hand over the dull exterior of the appliance.
Claire scratched her head and looked at the range. “Sure, we can do that, but don’t we need to update the main building first? Not that I’m an expert.”
Kris turned to her, blushing. “Sorry, I bet you think I’m stupid.”
“Never call a person stupid until they do something stupid. As in me.” Claire traced a finger over a jagged scar above her right eye. “Being excited about things isn’t stupid, it’s enjoyment. I wish I had your outlook. Perhaps I’d be in a better position than I am now.” She sighed heavily.
Kris stared at her. “I don’t know you, Claire, but I admit I know of you from the local tabloids. You don’t know anything at all about me. I figure that for a month we can just be two people who want to make a special woman happy by helping to renovate the cottage. Let’s leave our pasts behind us.”
Claire stared at Kris and frowned before blinking several times. “I wish I’d met you years ago, Kris. You are so pragmatic.”
Kris smiled. “I’ll go with pragmatic. Come on, let’s explore some more.”
Chapter Nine
Claire hadn’t laughed so much in years. Kris’s gentle manner and excited curiosity as they scrambled around the old cottage was catching, even with its creaking floorboards, hinges that required a liberal application of oil, and the dust. Almost as much dust in the place as grains of sand on the beach. The cottage inside needed more attention than the outside from her observations, and it was going to take good old-fashioned hard work to make it spic and span. She looked at her right arm.
Hmm, that might be tricky, but I’ll give it my best shot.
“Did you have a good morning, Ms. Claire?”
Claire nodded as Mrs. Rank stood in front of her. Talk about sneaking up on someone. Absently wiping away a cobweb from her hair, she looked at Kris’s retreating back heading toward her room.
“Absolutely, Mrs. Rank. When was the cottage last lived in? And I don’t mean when the family used it. That’s not living in it,” Claire asked, her eyes still following Kris until she disappeared around the bend upstairs.
Claire was so engrossed in Kris she only caught the odd word from Mrs. Rank’s reply. She was s
urprised to see sadness dwelling in every contour on the housekeeper’s face. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Rank, I didn’t quite catch that.”
“Never mind, Ms. Claire. I have a lovely crayfish salad for lunch. It’s ready when you are.”
Claire bit her bottom lip, wanting to know what Mrs. Rank knew about the cottage but figured she had time to find out. “Wonderful. I need to freshen up first. All that grime, you know. Let me know when Kris is ready to eat and I’ll be there.”
Mrs. Rank crossed her arms over her ample breasts. “Kris is helping me to shop in the town over lunch.”
Claire clenched her fists, feeling irrationally angry that Kris wasn’t joining her for lunch. “I’m eating alone? Do you think that’s fair?” she pouted.
Mrs. Rank shrugged and clucked like a chicken. “Absolutely not, we can’t have that. I will inform Kris that we shall go shopping after lunch.”
Claire held up her hand. “No, no, it’s fine. Go shopping. I need to do some emails and private stuff. How about we all make sure we have dinner together? Can we have beef instead of seafood, please?”
“Why of course, Ms. Claire. What time?”
“Six is a good time to have a glass of wine before we have dinner, I think. Oh, and while it’s just the three of us, we are equal. No exception and… Claire is good enough for me.” She saw twitches cross Mrs. Rank’s expression. She certainly had trouble with the request. “Are we in agreement?”
“Yes, yes of course, whatever you say, Ms.…Claire.”
“Great start. Okay, I’ll go wash my hands and face, and then I’ll be back for lunch on my own…by choice.” Claire winked and Mrs. Rank colored slightly. “Oh, and I can’t call you Mrs. Rank.”
Mrs. Rank shuffled around a square foot for a few seconds, then announced, “Shirley. Yes, Shirley. My husband loved the name. It’s what attracted him to me in the first place.”
Claire became thoughtful. “He was hooked on you too, right? Not just the name?”
Shirley nodded. “Not just the name, you are right.”
Claire smiled. “I like happy endings. I remember you once helped me with a puppet show for my parents. They hated it of course, were bored out of their skulls, my dad in particular. Still, you made me feel better. Can’t remember why, but you did.” Claire shrugged and turned toward the stairs. Wow, I’m doing well with the memory here.
“It was important for you. A child should feel good about their actions if they are trying to please, even if the recipients don’t appreciate it. I certainly did.” Shirley smiled, her thin lips growing taut.
“For a few moments you were the surrogate parent I kind of wished for,” Claire replied in a trembling voice.
“Thank you. I’m honored you thought that.”
Claire hesitated.
“Are you going shopping with us too? I’m looking forward to my first real visit to the town. I only passed through when I arrived.” Kris closed the gap between them and the stairs.
An unusual warmth flooded Claire as she smiled at Kris. “Not today. Soon though. Don’t spend too much.”
Kris chuckled. “I don’t have much to spend, so highly unlikely.” She turned away and then back again. “Are you going to be okay on your own?”
Claire bit her bottom lip at the concern in Kris’s voice. “Yes, absolutely. Will you bring back some of Mimi’s rhubarb-and-apple pies for dessert tonight?”
Kris grinned. “I’ll find Mimi’s for you and do just that. See you later, then?”
“Absolutely,” Claire slowly made her way up the stairs to her bedroom.
†
Kris breathed in the salt-encrusted air that greeted her as she walked along the main street of Chartres. So much healthier than a city filled with the fumes of ever-increasing traffic, and she felt safer too. Not just about the lack of vehicles hogging the road, but personally too. In New York City, she was constantly on the watch for pickpockets as she waited in the throng of bodies waiting to cross the road. Here there were fewer people. Sure, it was a Monday morning and most who’d stayed the weekend would have gone back to their main residences long ago, but the luxury of not walking into people felt great.
Kris stopped at a crossing, and as she glanced around, her gaze alighted on a young woman who was maybe around her age. The woman stood outside the very store where she was going to buy the pies Claire requested. Her stance was relaxed. The carved hiking cane she held on to fascinated Kris the most.
Who uses that in beach terrain? Strange.
She looked both ways, noted the speeding car and stopped, then quickly crossed. As she walked the few steps to Mimi’s store, the woman hadn’t moved.
Kris looked at the cane, her eyes dwelling on it for a ridiculous amount of time. She’ll think I’m nuts.
“Don’t you just love the smell?”
Kris flushed in embarrassment as the woman stared at her. “Why…why yes, I do. Truth be told, this is the first time I’ve ever been here. My…friend wanted rhubarb-and-apple pie for dessert tonight and said this was the place.”
“Certainly is, and your friend has great taste. Pies are something most people ignore nowadays, a bit old fashioned. Fancy cupcakes are the modern trend.”
Something instinctively likable about the woman attracted her. Coming here had been a good call. “Not that keen myself, all that frosting.” Kris chuckled.
“What a great laugh you have. It’s so genuine. I’m Jess Smith.” She thrust out her hand.
Kris, surprised by the sudden movement, grasped the proffered hand. “Kris, Kris Lake.”
“Lovely name. You’re new here, right?”
Kris laughed. “Yeah. How did you guess? Oh I know, you haven’t seen me around here before…then again, I did say I’d never been here before, and that’s the big tell, right?”
Jess turned fully to face Kris and smiled, exaggerating her dimples. “Exactly right. Are you here for the short stay or long haul?”
“A month. I’m helping to restore an old cottage. It’s a new challenge. I’m looking forward to it. What about you?” Kris asked.
Jess shuffled, and her body disguised by a long overcoat appeared to lean on the cane more.
“I’m a fixture.” Dark eyebrows wriggled and deep blue eyes caught hers.
“I envy you. I wish I could stay here forever. I love it and I’ve barely been here a couple of days.”
“Are you free to have a coffee? Millie’s does a great one complete with a Belgian chocolate cookie. I’ll understand if you don’t want—”
“Thank you, I’d love to. I’m waiting for someone. She’s having her hair done and won’t be ready for at least another hour.”
Jess laughed, and Kris allowed the gentle sound to surround her. It was one of the most calming noises she had ever heard.
“A tint, right? Not just a cut?”
“How did you know?” Kris laughed.
“Oh, an educated guess. They have specials on a Monday. Let me lead the way.”
Kris grinned. “I’m closest, let me.”
“No, they know me and we will most definitely get a good table.” Jess maneuvered around Kris and opened the door. As soon as she did, a server grabbed it and grinned.
“Hey, Jess, you took longer than normal to decide. What’s it going to be?”
Kris held back at the server’s words. Very personal.
“I’m taking my time, Josie. I have a friend joining me today. We will have the cookies no matter what, and don’t scrimp, I’ll know,” Jess said.
The server, in her late twenties, with a slim build and of medium height, responded with a cheeky smile that negated the beaky nose “Hey, I know you have special weapons, not a chance. Let me have that coat.”
“Thanks, Josie.”
Jess took off the garment, and Josie took it before walking away.
Kris followed Jess, who seemed to know exactly where she was going and was pleasantly surprised at the Reserved sign on the table. “You definitely come here often.”
<
br /> Jess didn’t reply immediately, which surprised Kris. Her new friend methodically made her way to the table and sat down before placing that fascinating cane to the left side of her chair.
“I definitely come here often. In fact, every day at this time. So you will know exactly where to find me if you want me.” Jess shrugged.
Kris sat opposite Jess and clasped her hands together. “I do, thank you.”
“Okay, Cane Girl here wants a large latte plus her cookies. What can I get you?” Josie appeared, pad and pen in hand.
Kris quickly replied, “Same. Please.”
Josie chuckled like someone who smoked at least twenty a day. “Perfect.”
Kris watched Josie leave and then turned to Jess, who was staring at her. “I was fascinated by you at the window from across the road.”
Jess grinned. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Not to put a dampener on this, but the cane in beachside territory? Then I worked it out.”
Jess’s expression became pensive. “The conclusion was?”
Kris hesitated and then said, “You are one of those people who are happy in their skin. Is that true?”
“Yes, I am now. Had a few hiccups along the way but, yes.”
“We have coffee coming, then I want to know how you do it.”
“Do what?”
Kris sighed. “Be the most confident woman in the room, and yet….”
“Yet?” was the terse reply.
“You tell me,” Kris said.
“Does it matter?”
Kris reached across the table and clutched Jess’s hand, “No. As a friend I’m interested, but if this is all you want to say, I’m good too.”
“I can feel you are a good person, Kris Lake. Thank you for entering my life. I have a feeling we will be good for each other.”
Kris squeezed Jess’s hand as the server brought their coffee. “Me too. For the first time in my life, I’m happy here. I feel it’s the place.”