Jazzed

by Donna Kelly

  Pouring coffee into mugs, Alice gestured to the table, where a votive candle cast a warm glow over the bread and some of Annie’s cream cheese, laid out artistically on Betsy’s good china. “Have a seat. I brought sustenance,” Alice said. “I’ve been working almost nonstop this week, and I could use some quality girl time. We can yak to our hearts’ content and maybe put a dent in our projects for the Polk family fundraiser. What do you think?”

  Annie smiled as they pulled their chairs up to the table. “You are such a good friend. Thank you.”

  “Anytime. You’d do the same for me.” Alice sipped her coffee. “Reverend Wallace will stop by to see you in the morning.”

  By the time the coffee and bread were nearly gone, Alice had heard enough stories about Wayne to love him for the happiness he had brought to her friend. He must have been something special for Annie’s eyes to still sparkle when she spoke of him, especially in light of her apparent growing affection for Ian.

  After tidying the kitchen, they settled on opposite ends of the sofa to work on their projects. Watching Annie create coaster after coaster with perfect, uniform stitches filled Alice with peace. Betsy would be proud of the woman her granddaughter had become. “Betsy is smiling down on us. You have her spirit, you know. She always said the best way to get out of a tough time is to give your way out. That’s exactly what you do.”

  Annie reached out and fingered the coasters stacked on the coffee table. “Gram was a wise woman. I wish I had spent more time with her in her later years.”

  Placing her cross-stitch in her craft bag, Alice looked down the length of the sofa. “She understood you had your own life in Texas. But I’m glad she found a way to get you back to Stony Point.”

  “Me too.” Annie jumped as the grandfather clock chimed two o’clock. “Wow, the time has passed quickly!”

  Alice stood up, stretched her arms, and wiggled her fingers. “We’re cooking with gas as far as the needlework projects go. Your stack of coasters is impressive, but you also promised Vanessa some rummage-sale items. Are you ready to tackle the attic after lunch? After all, what you need is another good mystery to occupy your mind. You’ve hit a dry spell.”

  A mischievous look flashed across Annie’s face. “Well, not exactly a bone-dry spell.”

  Hands on her hips, Alice looked down at a grinning Annie. “Why, Annie Dawson, you’ve been holding out on me! You are going to tell me all about it as I fix us a salad—right?”

  “No,” Annie said as she rose to her feet. “I’ll explain it as we fix the salad. And after we eat, we’ll hit the attic.”

  By the time the shrimp and mixed-greens salad had been consumed, Annie had given Alice a blow-by-blow description of the quest for the negatives, including finding images of the mysterious singer. After they tidied the kitchen, Annie showed them to Alice.

  Alice held a strip of negatives under the desk light in the library and let out a low whistle. “Old family photos, what a treasure! I just wish we could see the images better. Where’s the mystery woman?”

  Annie put another film strip up to the light. “Here is the singer. It’s difficult to see her features. But it doesn’t look like Gram.”

  Alice looked closer. “It’s hard to tell. Maybe you should take them to the next Hook and Needle Club meeting and show them to Stella. She might recognize her.”

  Switching off the light, Annie returned the negatives to the brown envelope and put them on the desk. “I’m not quite ready to share this mystery with anyone else yet. I want to have the photos printed first. Promise me you’ll keep this to yourself for now.”

  “Oh, you’re no fun,” said Alice, giving Annie a light slap on the wrist. Remembering their pacts made when they shared secrets as kids, Alice held up the pinky of her right hand. “Oh, all right, spoilsport. I pinky promise.”

  Annie giggled and held up her own little finger. “Pinky promise.”

  Alice squeezed Annie’s pinky with hers. “Pinky promise. Everything is going to be fine, better than fine. Now, let’s go tackle that attic before we change our minds.”

  Following Annie upstairs to the attic, Alice was thankful to see her friend’s spirits lifting. “Your attic is a mini-museum of Stony Point history. It’s like the gift that keeps on giving with all of the rummage items you’ve found, family heirlooms discovered, and relatives located! And I, for one, am really thrilled with the track lighting you installed. It’s not so spooky in here now.”

  Annie flipped a switch and the room filled with light. “I hope we can still find something worth selling at the fundraiser. I’ve cleared out a lot in the attic. But just when I think we’ve sorted through everything, we find something left untouched.”

  “Like this one?” Alice pushed against a trunk to reveal a low crawl space. “Did you bring a flashlight up with you?”

  Annie pulled a mini-flashlight from her pocket and handed it to Alice before turning her attention to a nearby shelf. “I remember stashing a few trinkets over here when LeeAnn and I were up here playing dress-up with John and Joanna during their last visit. But feel free to crawl through the cobwebs if you want. I have a feeling you are about to enter the spooky zone.”

  Auburn head perched in front of the dark hole, Alice turned to look back at Annie. “Cover me, I’m going in!”

  Annie looked up from the odd-shaped vase she held in her hand. “Go get ’em, Tiger!”

  Alice, indeed, found plenty of cobwebs. Inching as far into the space as possible, she shined her flashlight along the sides to find several small storage boxes. The glint of metal caught her eye when the light hit the top of the box sitting at the farthest point in the space. Pulling her body forward, Alice reached her hand toward the sparkle until she finally grasped the box.

  “Look what I found!” Alice said, after inching out of the crawl space. She raised the box in triumph. “Don’t know what’s in it, but the box sure is cool.”

  Annie set aside the rather abstract-shaped, pea-green vase and a set of sixties-era coasters she had found and stepped over to take the box from Alice. Wiping the dust off with her sleeve, Annie uncovered images of New York City landmarks. “This really is interesting. But my itchy nose is telling me to get out of the attic. Let’s take the tin downstairs and open it in the library.”

  In short order they were sitting at Annie’s grandfather’s desk, studying the tin, which was about the size of the Bible the church gave to sixth-grade students at confirmation. Alice restrained herself from snatching it from Annie’s hands. “Open it already. I’m about to burst with curiosity!”

  Alice lowered her head closer to the tin as Annie pried off the lid. More negatives! She started to reach into the tin. “May I?”

  Annie nodded. “Go for it!”

  Lightly separating a sheet of film, Alice held it up to the desk light. “These are too dark to see very well, but the people look different from the negatives you found in the portrait. But they appear to be musicians at a microphone, just like your mystery singer.”

  Annie reached into the tin and pulled out an empty matchbook cover. “Ever heard of a club called The Avant-Garde? Look at this. Maybe it’s a clue to the identity of these musicians.”

  Sitting back in her chair, Alice shook her head and held her out hand for the matchbook. Opening it flat, she looked to see if anything was written inside. It was blank. “Why do you think the negatives of the one singer were hidden in your family portrait instead of in the tin with this batch?”

  “I haven’t the slightest idea,” Annie said, running an index finger along the rim of the tin and staring at its contents, “but I sure could use a cup of tea. Want some?”

  Alice took the tin into the living room and put on one of Annie’s new jazz CDs while Annie fixed tea in the kitchen. She couldn’t take her eyes off the designs on the tin—the Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty, the Brooklyn Bridge. Who was the mystery singer, and why wasn’t she in the tin? Alice wondered.

  Annie’s voice cut in
to her thoughts. “Here we go. I took the liberty of fixing us a small snack.” With a flourish, she placed a tray loaded with two cups of tea, cheese crisps, and apple slices on the coffee table.

  Alice stirred cream and sugar into her tea. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. I really was worried.”

  Silence filled the room. Annie drew in a long breath and slowly released it. “I guess I’ve been a bit self-centered lately. Ian’s kiss threw me for a loop. You see, the way I responded to it scared me. I feel like I’m being unfaithful to Wayne.”

  Popping a cheese crisp into her mouth, Alice took time to consider her response. “Annie, although I never knew Wayne, I can feel his spirit through the memories you’ve shared of him. Someone who loved you that strongly would want you to be happy, even if it meant finding happiness with another man.”

  Adrift in her own thoughts, Annie’s expression seemed a mixture of sadness and relief. Alice gently touched her arm. “Are you all right?”

  Annie nodded. “Yes. It’s just that Ian really is a good man, and I’ve hurt him by avoiding being alone with him lately. Do you think he has any idea how I feel about him?”

  “I’m not sure you really know how you feel about him,” said Alice. Not wanting to make light of the situation, she tried to stifle a laugh and the result sounded like a snort. “If he doesn’t know you really, really like him, he’s the only one in Stony Point who hasn’t noticed!”

  Blushing, Annie’s eyes clouded. “Are people talking?”

  “Relax,” Alice said, taking a swig of tea. “I’ve tried to keep the gossip to a minimum.”

  Biting her lip, Annie sighed. “Alice, please don’t talk about this with anyone. Ian and I need to see where this is going without any interference, even from friends with good intentions.”

  Chuckling softly, Alice realized just how well Annie had grown to know the good folks of Stony Point. “I promise to keep the town’s worst-kept secret to myself. But the way you two look at each other tempts people to talk about it. You and Ian will have to go public sooner or later.”

  Annie brushed a stray hair from her eyes. “Yes, I know. Really, I do. I just want to feel comfortable with these feelings before I announce them to the world.”

  Glancing at the clock, Alice stood up. “It will be dark soon. I need to head back through the hedge. But I’ll keep our conversation to myself.” She held up her right pinky. “Pinky promise.”

  She was rewarded with Annie’s lilting laugh.

  “Pinky promise,” Annie said, linking her pinky around Alice’s finger.

  8

  Annie turned the well-worn book over to read the back cover. “Well, Reverend, it looks like I’m not the first to need the wisdom written in these pages.”

  Reverend Wallace adjusted his wire-framed glasses and pointed at the author’s photo. “Wise man, Alan Negley. Always was, even when we were young men in seminary. He was giving relationship advice way back then. This was his first book, and it has come in handy over the decades.”

  The author-minister smiled up at her from the third edition of Love, Loss, Life: Surviving the Loss of Your Soul Mate. Like Reverend Wallace, he had a kind face and receding gray hair. Annie was beginning to feel better already. “Thank you for this and for your words of encouragement. They’re just what I needed. I’ve not been quite myself lately; I don’t understand it. Stony Point has become home. I have good friends here.”

  I really do have good friends here, friends who helped me work through the grief of losing Gram and the monumental job of sorting through her belongings, Annie thought. Yes, it had been tough being an outsider, even if she was Betsy Holden’s granddaughter, but over time she had been accepted into the fold. Life was good.

  “I don’t understand why my emotions have been all over the board lately. I burst into tears over the most mundane things.” Annie blinked back the tears starting to well in her eyes. “I am happy here. I treasure my friends. I love this house and its memories.”

  The minister took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes before returning the glasses to the bridge of his nose. “Annie, you do so much for others. You’ve taken strangers into your home, reunited friends with loved ones, and helped people heal after tragedy. But you’ve had a life-altering experience of your own with losing Betsy so soon after Wayne’s death. And then you left your family in Texas and made a new home here. Now it’s time to be good to you. All the feelings you’ve described to me are very normal.”

  Reverend Wallace took a deep breath and charged forward as if reading Annie’s mind. “You know, Ian Butler is a good, solid man, and the two of you have grown closer lately. Could your friendship with him be causing these emotions you’ve described?”

  Annie’s eyes, wide with surprise, darted to his face. “Did Alice mention anything about Ian to you?”

  The minister softly chuckled and put his hand over Annie’s. “Alice didn’t need to say anything. I’ve been watching a relationship develop between you and Ian for quite some time now. Your late entrance and hasty exit from church Sunday coupled with Alice’s phone call about your emotional state were hints of your confusion.”

  Annie’s eyes filled with tears. “Yes, I do have feelings for Ian. I’ve tried not to give in to them. They carry so many feelings of guilt. How can I care so much about Ian when I still love Wayne?”

  Reverend Wallace tapped the book in Annie’s hands. “Read what my old friend says. Each chapter is coupled with Bible verses, so you can also read what God says about it. And I suggest you share your feelings with Ian. He’s been through losing a spouse too. He’ll most likely understand and have words of wisdom to share.”

  Annie nodded, clutching the book in her lap. “I think I’ll read this first.”

  Reverend Wallace leaned forward to rise and spied the tin Alice had found in the attic. “What an unusual box,” he said, nodding toward the tin on the coffee table. “It looks rather old. Did it belong to your grandmother?”

  Annie picked up the box, holding it closer for him to see and lifted the lid, explaining her discovery of the negatives and the mystery of the singer. “I don’t know where to get photos printed from negatives in this day and age of digital photography. But I am anxious to see what they contain.”

  He peered into the box and looked up. “Why don’t you contact Ernst Michaels? He’s a retired photojournalist in Petersgrove. He restored some old church photos for me several years ago. He’s also a jazz buff. He might know something about your mystery singer. I have his number in my office. I’ll call and give it to you later today.”

  Walking the minister to the door, Annie said, “Thanks for coming by. You’ve been a great help.”

  Reverend Wallace paused on his way out the door. “Annie, please don’t spend too much time alone. And remember, you have a lot of people in Stony Point who care about you. Keep in touch.”

  ****

  “So, did you call the photographer?” Alice called soon after Annie had hung up the phone with Ernst Michaels.

  “Yes, ma’am, I sure did.” Annie put on her reading glasses and looked at the directions sitting on top of the tin where it still rested on the coffee table. “He is expecting me—er, us—at three o’clock. You do want to go with me, right?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world! What time should I pick you up?”

  Annie looked at the bags of coasters on the coffee table surrounding the tin. “Well, I’d like to stop by A Stitch in Time on the way to get more yarn to make matching place mats to go with the coaster sets. It will take a while to get to Petersgrove, so about one o’clock? But it’s my turn to drive.”

  ****

  Mary Beth growled and slammed down the phone receiver just as Annie and Alice walked into A Stitch in Time. “Thanks for nothing!”

  Alice looked at Annie. “Was it something we said? Maybe we need to go out and come in again.”

  Mary Beth looked up from the checkout counter. “I’m so sorry; that definitely wasn’t intended for yo
u.” She waved her hands toward the back of the store. “All the rain we’ve had lately was too much for the roof. Leaks are springing up all over the place, some producing drips and others rivers. I’ve been calling roofing companies since early this morning. I just can’t seem to get anyone out here to fix it—Mother Nature has created some brisk business for roofers. But that isn’t your problem. What can I do for you ladies?”

  Annie looked at the water puddle along the rear wall. “Oh, Mary Beth, what a mess! It looks like we came at a bad time. Can we help stack things away from the water? Maybe we can move some of your inventory to Grey Gables. Or maybe it would be better if we just come back tomorrow.”

  Shaking her head, Mary Beth came out from behind the counter. “Please stay. I can’t seem to do anything about the water situation right now anyway, and Kate will be in soon to help with the damage control. What can I do for you?”

  Annie held up a pattern for a place mat similar to the coasters, only larger. “Is there a multicolored cotton yarn that would match close enough to all of the different colors I used for the coasters?”

  Mary Beth led her to a bin of multicolored yarns of varying hues as Alice went to check out the puddles of water growing in size and number.

  Alice stuck the toe of one shoe up to the waterline in the back corner of the building and looked at the soggy boxes stacked nearby. “Wow, this is a mess! I hope insurance covers the cleanup.”

  Holding up several skeins for Annie to see, Mary Beth sighed loudly. “I can’t believe the timing. I’m scheduled to leave Thursday for the National Fiber Arts Convention in New York City next weekend. I paid for it months ago. I even made arrangements for my niece to mind the shop so Kate could go.”

  From her purse, Annie pulled sample pieces of the yarn used for the coasters and held them up to the skeins in Mary Beth’s hands. After considering all of them, she made a choice. “I’ll take several of this one. And maybe the water mess will be all cleaned up by next week, and you’ll still be able to attend the conference.”