Season of Angels (9781101612170)

by Kinkade, Thomas; Spencer, Katherine

  Her question broke into his rambling thoughts. He nodded quickly. “Yes, it is.”

  She carried the binders to the bookcase and began to re-shelve them. “It’s mine, too.”

  “Really? Then working here must be a big plus. You can do research any time.”

  “Almost. If I’m clever about it,” she added.

  He had a feeling she was clever about most things. That part probably wasn’t any problem.

  “So, what did you find out so far? I’m not sure I’ve ever read those early town meeting records.”

  “Oh, you should if you ever have the time. I love the way the colonists were so careful about recording their experiences. Almost as if they knew that hundreds of years later, someone like me would be sitting all alone in a room, studying every word.”

  “They had to report back to England,” Tess reminded him. “And I think they did have a sense of their own place in history. Of the enormous adventure they had taken on, coming here and building a whole New World from a wilderness—”

  “Exactly,” he said excitedly. “I was just thinking the very same thing. I’m not sure I would ever have the guts to do something like that. Would you?”

  Tess considered the question a moment, slipping one last binder into place. She turned to him. “Yes, I think I would. But that’s easy to say now . . . and please don’t tell me that NASA is enlisting volunteers to colonize outer space. I’m definitely not interested.”

  He laughed at the analogy. “Well, that’s fine with me. Because I could really use your help again here. After all these town meeting records, I would love to find some more personal accounts. Letters maybe . . . or a journal?”

  He was looking at her with those large dark eyes, as if she were the only person in the building who could help him . . . maybe the only person in the entire world. It was a thought that made Tess smile.

  “I think I can help you with that.”

  “Will you be here tomorrow?” He picked up his laptop and notepad.

  “Yes, I’ll be here.” Tess nodded, feeling a tiny ping of excitement when she met his gaze.

  “Good. I’ll see you then, Tess. Good night.” Then he smiled at her and left the reading room.

  Tess closed the bookcase and locked it. Then she looked around the room to make sure it was in perfect order. Mrs. Fisk checked every room, every night, and would be up soon.

  Well, that was an interesting afternoon, Tess reflected as she straightened the chair Jonathan had used and shut off the reading light. Much more interesting than most. And he was much more attractive than he had seemed at the diner. He probably wasn’t in town for very long, but it would be fun to see him tomorrow and help with his research. She already had a few ideas about sources. She was glad now that he had run into her here. It turned out that Jonathan Butler was not the last person in the world she ever wanted to see again. Not by a long shot.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  It was later that same Monday that Adele gathered her courage and returned to Willoughby Fine Foods. The shop was emptier this time, the lunch rush long over. She had a clear view of the counters with their appetizing displays. Best of all, she saw a familiar figure coming through the back door that led to the kitchen.

  “Excuse me, miss, can you help me?” Adele bit back a smile at the shocked expression on her granddaughter’s face. But she was so glad to see Molly, with her bright blue eyes and dark, curly hair, the famous Morgan coloring.

  Molly was carrying a tray of miniature fruit tarts and nearly dropped it when her eyes met Adele’s. “Grandma . . . what are you doing here?” She set the tray down on the glass counter and brushed her hands on her apron.

  Adele walked closer, though they were still separated by a glass case full of pastries.

  “I decided to come down and visit since no one ever comes up to see me anymore. Well, rarely,” she added, forcing a light tone. It wouldn’t help her case at all to sound cranky and complaining. Light tone or not, she saw Molly’s cheeks flush. She always had such beautiful fair skin and did still, even in her early forties.

  “Oh, you know how it is, Grandma. We’re all so busy.” Molly avoided Adele’s glance, skillfully sliding the tray of pastries into the case.

  At least she had the good grace to make a polite excuse, Adele thought. The real reason was not so easy to admit.

  “Did you just get into town?” Molly asked, standing up again. “You didn’t drive all the way down here by yourself, did you?”

  “I came down on Saturday, and I didn’t drive very fast but yes, I did drive down here by myself,” Adele said, feeling a touch of pride in her feat. “I’m staying on Angel Island, at the inn,” she went on. “It’s very pretty. Liza Martin’s done a wonderful job with the renovation.”

  “Yes, she has.” Molly seemed to be recovering from her shock. “I’d offer for you to stay with us, but I’m so insanely busy right now. You’d be pretty much alone all day . . . But if you want to leave the inn for any reason, we have plenty of room.”

  Adele appreciated Molly trying to make an effort, but suspected that the hospitality was offered more because it was the right thing to do than because Molly really wanted her there. Her granddaughter sided with her father in the argument, and their once-warm relationship had been strained ever since. It was sad how the anger and resentment between Joe and Kevin had spread through the family, like a drop of black ink falling into a pitcher of milk.

  “Thank you for inviting me,” Adele said quickly. “But once you find out why I came, you might not want me staying over.”

  Molly stared at her a minute, then brushed a loose strand of hair back from her face. She stepped out from behind the counter to give Adele a quick hug. “It must be important,” she said ruefully, “if you drove all the way down here. Why don’t you come around the back to the workroom, where we can talk?”

  “That’s a good idea. Lead the way,” Adele said, and followed Molly into the back of the shop.

  Molly closed the door and offered Adele a seat near a long metal worktable. “Can I get you something, Grandma? Some lunch? Some pastry? A cup of coffee?”

  Adele smiled. That was Molly. Hard feelings could be swallowed back a lot easier with some tasty food, couldn’t they? “No, dear, I’m fine. I know you’re very busy but just sit with me a moment. I need to talk to you.”

  Molly took the seat across from Adele at the table. “What’s up, Grandma? You’re not sick, are you?”

  She thinks I’ve come down here to tell everyone I’m battling some fatal illness, Adele realized with a start. Not that I’m wishing ill on myself, but that sort of news might actually win me some sympathy, she thought wryly. But she couldn’t lie. It wouldn’t be right.

  “No, I’m not sick, thank the good Lord. But I’m not getting any younger, either. I came down to ask your father to forgive me and make peace with his brother,” she said. “After all these years, Molly, I can’t stand the idea that they’re still angry at each other—and your father is still so angry with me. I know I’m not blameless and neither is your uncle Kevin. But it is long past time that those two talked things out and forgave each other. And it’s time that your father forgave me. Oh, he still calls once a week to see if I’m alive, but there’s not much more to our relationship than that.” Molly seemed about to speak but Adele rushed on. “I want to see this family together again, like in the old days. Just one more time before I die? Remember when you all would come see me after Christmas?”

  Molly sighed. “Of course I remember, Grandma, and I miss those gatherings too. But . . . I also remember how bad Dad felt when Grandpa died and he didn’t get the store. After all those years of waiting and expecting? He and Mom even drove up there a few times to look at property.” Molly shook her head. “I don’t think he’ll ever forgive you or Uncle Kevin for that. I’m not sure I would, ei
ther,” she added in her blunt way.

  Adele was not surprised at her reaction, but it still hurt to hear that hard note in her granddaughter’s voice. She struggled not to interrupt. Molly needed to have her say, no matter how much it hurt to listen.

  “I can’t help taking Daddy’s side of it,” Molly explained. “Grandpa always promised Dad that business. And Dad was working such long, difficult hours to support all of us and he was never around to help Mom. Taking over the store was the chance he always wanted—and counted on. Uncle Kevin didn’t have to take the store. He could have just refused to take it. I’m sure he knew in his heart that it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t the right thing to do. Or he could have even shared it with Dad. Dad would have kept it going. Uncle Kevin couldn’t even run it. We all know what happened. All Grandpa’s hard work and all the money he invested, down the drain two years later . . .”

  “Yes, we all know what happened,” Adele agreed. “But people can change, Molly. They can learn from their mistakes and improve themselves. You know that’s true.”

  Molly caught her meaning. Adele could tell by the expression on her face. Not so long ago, Molly had been a single mother, living in a tiny apartment above a store with two young daughters whom she supported with odd jobs—cleaning houses and driving a school bus. But she hoped, dreamed, and worked for much more and eventually achieved it—her own business, a second marriage, a beautiful new home and a new life. Molly, of all people, should not sit in judgment of her uncle Kevin. Not if she was fair-minded about the question.

  “Yes, your uncle lost the store. He lost everything he had and even disappeared for a while. But maybe that was all necessary. He finally hit bottom and saved his own life. He’s been sober for almost five years and has a good job and a happy marriage.”

  “Yes, I know he’s cleaned up his act. Good for him.” Molly shrugged and looked down at a clipboard on the table that bulged with papers and yellow sticky notes. For her many jobs and orders, Adele guessed. Molly was a busy woman, and Adele knew she did not have much time left to plead her case.

  “Your uncle is getting a big promotion. His company is sending him to New Zealand, right after the first of the year. Who knows when he’ll be back?” Molly looked up at her again. Adele felt she had her attention. “I’m getting old. I may never live to see my sons reconcile. Do I have to wait until they meet again at my funeral?”

  “Grandma, come on. Don’t say things like that.” Adele thought she’d gotten to her, just a little. But she also seemed even more irritated by the conversation. “Did Uncle Kevin send you here to talk to us? Was this his idea or something, because he’s moving away?”

  Adele sat up straight and looked her in the eye. “It was not his idea, none of it. Kevin doesn’t even know I’m here. I know your father won’t listen to me. He won’t even talk to me about this. But he might talk to you. Will you help me, Molly? Will you help me bring the family back together again?”

  Her granddaughter sat back, looking shocked by the question. Before she could answer, one of the counter workers opened the door and looked in. “Mrs. Breslin is here, Molly. She needs to talk to you about her party. Something about the vegetable pâté?”

  “Oh, sure. Be right there. I’ll just be a minute.”

  Saved by the vegetable pâté, Adele thought. And I was just getting somewhere.

  The door closed again and Molly turned back to Adele. “I’m sorry, Grandma. I have to get back to work. And the truth is, I get mad just thinking about all this again. What you and Grandpa and Uncle Kevin did to my dad—you pulled the rug right out from under him, as if his feelings didn’t matter at all. It wasn’t just the store, or even what it was worth. You all just brushed him aside. I don’t know . . . but I do know I’m not the right person to help you. I have a lot of sympathy for my father and just about none for Uncle Kevin.”

  Or you, Adele almost heard her add.

  Thankfully, Molly did not go that far. But she had gone far enough. Her position was clear. She was not going to help Adele plead her case. Adele rose to her feet and picked up her handbag.

  “I’m sorry if I was too blunt, Grandma. That’s just the way I feel.”

  “You don’t have to apologize,” Adele replied. “We all have to be honest if we want to get to the bottom of this thing.”

  This murky, black pit of grievances and hard feelings. Was there a bottom to it? Adele hoped so. She hoped she could find it before she drowned trying. Adele saw a back door that led to a parking lot and decided not to walk through the store again. “I’ll just go out this way. It looks easier.”

  “Yes, it is.” Molly walked her to the door. “Are you going back up to the inn now?”

  Adele shrugged. “It’s such a nice afternoon. I’ll take a walk in town first.” Lick my wounds and regroup, she added silently. “Good-bye, dear. Thanks for taking the time to talk to me. It’s been too long since I’ve seen you,” she added honestly.

  She leaned over and gave Molly a quick kiss on her cheek. Molly didn’t respond, but that didn’t matter to Adele. She knew Molly was upset. That was just her way. Talk bold and blunt, and then get moody for a while, wondering if she had done the right thing.

  Molly held the door as Adele stepped outside. “What about Dad? Should I tell him that you’re in town?”

  Adele hadn’t thought about that. “I’d rather you didn’t. I’m not ready to talk to him,” she said. “I’ll get in touch with him when I’m ready.”

  Molly didn’t look pleased by that answer, but she had to get back to work. Adele watched as she waved good-bye and shut the back door.

  Adele stood out in the parking lot, not sure of which way to go or what to do next. The weather had been mild again today, but it was at least half past four. The daylight was fading, and the air was growing much chillier. She felt a chill deep down in her heart. She had hoped to find an ally here and now felt very much alone in her battle.

  She took a deep breath and slowly walked over to Main Street, then headed up toward the post office and the Bramble, Grace Hegman’s antiques store. From his wife Jessica’s chatty Christmas letters, Adele knew that her grandson Sam still had his workshop in the barn behind the store. Half the barn was his shop and the other half was a storage area for the antiques shop. He was doing very well in his business, by all accounts, and might be there working right now.

  She wondered if Sam was going to react the same way Molly had. Would he, too, refuse to help her? She really couldn’t blame him if he stuck up for his father. She just hoped that Sam could also see her side of the story.

  Adele soon came to the Bramble, a Victorian house that now had a shop on the bottom floor and a large apartment on the second and third floors. The shop was decorated very nicely for Christmas with a big wreath on the door and a pine garland around the porch. Nothing too lavish and everything looked very nineteenth century.

  Adele spotted Grace Hegman inside arranging some pieces of china in the window, which was decorated for Christmas, too. Adele felt a twinge of guilt, knowing she ought to stop and say hello to Grace and Digger, but she couldn’t afford to waste her powder. She only had so much energy these days and right now, she needed every drop for her family.

  She marched down the gravel drive toward the barn and was happy to hear the roar of power tools on Sam’s side. She knocked on the door and waited, then guessed he couldn’t hear her. She opened it slowly and walked in. Sam had on goggles and big gloves and was running a power sander over a long tabletop, sending up clouds of fine white dust. She felt a little cough coming on and covered her mouth with her hand.

  “Grandma Addie, is that you?” Sam put down the machine and stared at her. It was suddenly silent. Except for her coughing.

  “Yes . . . here I am. Surprise,” she coughed out.

  “Come and sit down. I’ll get you a glass of water.”

 
Adele did not feel weak in any way, but she let herself be led to a chair with Sam’s firm touch on her shoulder. She sat down and gratefully accepted the glass of cold water. “That tastes good. Nothing like a simple glass of water when your throat is dry.”

  Sam pulled off his goggles and face mask. “Do you feel all right?”

  “I’m fine, dear, just fine.” She smiled up at him. He was in his mid-forties now with a touch of silver in his thick dark hair, but she still saw him as a sweet, energetic little boy, always eager to help her. She hoped he felt the same way now.

  “Was I supposed to know that you were coming to visit?” He gave her a wry grin. “It’s really not a great idea to surprise a guy working with power tools.”

  “I realize that now. It wasn’t very smart of me. But it is good to see you, Sam.”

  “You, too, Grandma. When did you get here?”

  “On Saturday, actually—” The phone in Sam’s shirt pocket rang. Adele paused while he checked the number.

  “It’s not important,” he told her. “I’ll call back.” He stopped the ringing and put the phone back in his pocket. “So you were saying, you came down on Saturday?”

  “Yes, I drove myself down and went straight to the Inn at Angel Island.” She paused again, wondering how to broach the subject this time. “You see, I have a problem, Sam. I was hoping you could help me.”

  He looked at her with concern. “What sort of problem, Grandma? I’ll help you if I can.”

  That was Sam. So openhanded and openhearted, bless him.

  Adele felt encouraged. “I’ve come to make peace in the family, Sam. To bring your father and his brother back together and to ask your father to forgive both of us.” She watched Sam’s expression change from open and eager to serious and doubtful. “Now before you say anything, just hear me out, please?”

  “I’m listening, Grandma. Go on.”

  Adele took a deep breath and told her grandson how she and George had felt desperate to help Kevin all those years ago, but how it was time that the rift in the family was healed. She told him how Kevin had changed and how he and his family were now moving to New Zealand.