Unraveling the Pieces

by Terri DuLong

  “Definitely. Oh, and I called Suzanne Palmer at the rescue shelter. I’m meeting with her this afternoon and I’m going to be volunteering there a few days a week.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Iris said. “I’m also volunteering there now. Will you be at the adoption event at Petco on Saturday?”

  I nodded. “Yes, and Suzanne said to bring Lotte. It’s good advertising.”

  “Right. I’ll have Fred there with me too.”

  I recalled how Iris had adopted Fred a few months before and had also gotten Ginger for her granddaughter, Haley. I also recalled that Isabelle hadn’t been happy about that at first, but had come to love the little dog.

  “Have you heard from Isabelle lately?” I asked.

  Iris shook her head. “No. Not much. I get most of the news from Haley. It seems between working at the office and being a new wife, Isabelle is being kept busy. How was your lunch with her on Monday?”

  “Oh, well, it didn’t happen. She forgot. So it got canceled.”

  I looked up to see Iris staring at me.

  “Really?” she said. “Hmm. She seldom comes to the yarn shop anymore either. I hate to say it, but that can be typical Isabelle. Caught up in her world to the exclusion of others.”

  “Well, I’m sure it’s an adjustment for her—being married again and working at the office.” I had to admit it sounded as if I was making excuses for her.

  “Could be,” was all Iris said as Yarrow joined us.

  “How’re you doing?” she asked me.

  “Great. How’s it working out with your deliveries?”

  “I really got lucky,” she said. “I have Kim and Stacy. They’re both college students and share the hours. They’re very reliable and it’s working out well. Actually, I’m looking to hire one more person. Not interested in delivering coffee and muffins, are you?”

  I laughed. “Sorry. My plate is filling up. I’m going to be volunteering at the shelter and my work will pick up again after the first of the year.”

  “Yeah, I know. I was only kidding you.”

  “Oh, I wanted to ask you guys who I should use as a vet. Lotte is due for her annual checkup.”

  “Dr. Wellington,” all three said at the same time, causing me to laugh.

  “I take it he’s good?” I said.

  “Oh, he is,” Chloe said. “We take Delilah and Basil to him. They adore him.”

  “Yup.” Yarrow nodded. “I’ve been taking Merino to him since I found my cat.”

  “Absolutely, Dr. Wellington,” Iris agreed. “I take Fred to him. He’s very compassionate and excellent with the animals.”

  “Not to mention, easy on the eyes,” Chloe said, and we all laughed.

  “Okay, then Dr. Wellington it is. I’ll call his office later and set up an appointment.” I saw that it was almost twelve. “I need to get going. Time for lunch and then I’m going to the shelter to meet Suzanne. Five-thirty for dinner?”

  Chloe nodded. “Yes. And be sure to bring Lotte. Delilah and Basil will want to visit with her.”

  I smiled. “Okay. See you then.”

  * * *

  I parked in the underground garage of Chloe and Henry’s building and took the elevator up to their condo. I had Lotte’s leash in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

  Chloe opened the door followed by the two dogs. Delilah had been Henry’s dog before they had married. She was a well-behaved and beautiful golden retriever. Basil was an adorable terrier who had belonged to Gabe, Isabelle’s father and Chloe’s significant other, before he passed away a few years before.

  Lotte strained at the leash to greet her two buddies. They had met during our visits to Ormond Beach, and it appeared they hadn’t forgotten each other.

  I unclipped her leash and laughed. “I think they’re excited to see each other again.”

  “I think you’re right. Come on in.”

  Henry came from the kitchen area wearing an apron with Kiss the Cook in red lettering across the front. He pulled me into a hug. “We’re so happy you could join us, Petra.”

  “Thank you for inviting me,” I said, passing him the bottle of wine.

  “Let’s have a glass of wine before dinner. You and Chloe can sit on the balcony and I’ll bring it out to you.”

  I followed Chloe outside and inhaled the salty air from the Atlantic beyond the beach area below.

  “You have such a lovely location here,” I said, taking in the view to the north and south.

  She nodded. “I know. That’s why we can’t decide if we want to sell the condo or stay put. Right now I think we’re going to stay here.”

  “I can’t blame you at all. The condo is ideal for two people, and you’re centrally located, not to mention this fantastic view.”

  I recalled how Chloe had first met Henry. She had rented his condo for a month while she attempted to put her life back together after the loss of Gabe. Henry had been on a work assignment doing photography for National Geographic out of state, and when they finally met in person, it was love at first sight.

  “Here we go, girls,” Henry said, joining us on the balcony.

  He placed a tray holding three wineglasses on the table and then passed one to me and one to Chloe.

  Lifting his own glass, he said, “Welcome to Ormond Beach, Petra. We hope you’ll be happy here.”

  “Thank you,” I said before taking a sip.

  “What are your plans for Christmas?” Henry asked.

  With my recent move and settling in, I found it difficult to believe that Christmas was less than a month away.

  “Oh, I really don’t have any specific plans. Mavis Anne mentioned we should have a Christmas party at Koi House for friends and women from the yarn shop.”

  Chloe nodded. “Yes, she was talking about that the other day. I think it’s a great idea. There would be a lot more room there rather than at Dreamweaver’s, but of course, that’s your home now.”

  I waved a hand in the air. “Oh, no, that would be fine with me. I can just picture a huge Christmas tree in the family room in front of those gorgeous windows. And the seating area would be perfect. I’ll talk to Mavis Anne about it tomorrow and see if we can get a date confirmed.”

  “Right. Tomorrow is December first, so we don’t have a lot of time. Of course I’ll help you decorate. We could hire Marta to make pastries and have the party in the afternoon as a Christmas tea. Have you seen Marta since you arrived?”

  I shook my head. “No, she’ll be over tomorrow to clean.”

  Marta was a Polish immigrant whom Mavis Anne adored. She had been hired years before, when Mavis Anne still resided at Koi House, to clean and cook and had continued on in this capacity for both Chloe and Isabelle. Although the cleaning duties were twice weekly, the cooking had become less. She was now only hired for special events—mainly for her expertise with pastries.

  “You might give her a heads-up,” Chloe said. “Let her know we’ll be needing some of her wonderful goodies.”

  We finished our wine and then I was treated to a delicious pasta dinner prepared by Henry.

  By the time Lotte and I returned home, I was filled with good food, good conversation, and the knowledge that I was fortunate to have Chloe and Henry Wagner as friends.

  I recalled what my mother had shared with me when I was growing up. The sense of family she felt when she had gone to work in Amelia Island, Florida, with her best friend, Cynthia. The friendships she made had ended by that time, but it seemed they had been very important and helped to make her feel welcome in a new area. Which was exactly how my Ormond Beach friends made me feel.

  Rhonda January 1969

  I looked around the cabin and smiled. No, it wasn’t elegant. Not by a long stretch. Two twin beds with blue chenille spreads, separated by a small maple table holding a lamp. One maple bureau containing three drawers on each side and one brown Naugahyde chair that would prove to be even less comfortable than it looked. But it was ours. Our own place. Temporarily, anyway. A sm
all bathroom with sink, toilet, and minuscule shower completed the cabin.

  “Oh, God! No tub?” I heard Cynthia wailing.

  I turned from unpacking my suitcase to see her facing the bathroom door, hands on hips, and suppressed a smile.

  “I think our employers feel we’re here to work, not to soak in tubs,” I told her.

  She let out a groan and shook her head. “Well, yes, I’m here to work. But I think I’d work a bit better if I had the luxury of soaking in a tub after I work.”

  I continued sorting my clothes. “I’ll take the three drawers on this side of the bureau, if that’s okay.”

  She waved a hand in the air. “Sure, fine.”

  It was then that she realized we didn’t have a proper closet, something I had already noticed.

  She spun around in a circle and let out another groan.

  “What? No closet? Where are we supposed to hang our clothes?”

  I pointed to the metal rod that had been braced in a small cut-out in the wall. A few hangers hung empty. “Right there.”

  She threw her arms up into the air. “I need a cigarette,” she said, reaching for her pack and the matches in her handbag and proceeding to light one.

  I ran over to grab it from her hand. “You can’t smoke in here. You read the rules.”

  I steered her outside. “You’re lucky we have this porch.”

  Granted, it was a small area with only two plastic chairs, but it did have a roof and was screened.

  She lit up the cigarette, lifted her head to blow the smoke up, and let out a sigh. “Sorry,” she said, after a few moments. “I guess I just thought it might be a bit more upscale.”

  I looked at the grounds that surrounded us with the hotel in the distance and beyond that, the beautiful blue ocean. “But look how pretty it is, and we’re only going to be sleeping here.”

  Cynthia nodded. “It is pretty.” She continued puffing on her cigarette as her glance took in the area.

  The brick walkways, palm trees, and large flowering bushes looked exactly like what we had seen in the brochure.

  “And isn’t this weather to die for?” she said.

  It was sunny and it felt like the temperature was in the seventies. “It’s certainly a far cry from Pennsylvania in January. I’m going to finish unpacking and then change my clothes. We have to be at the hotel for lunch at twelve and then we have the orientation.”

  “Go ahead,” she said. “I’ll be right in to unpack.”

  * * *

  Following a delicious lunch of crab salad, warm crusty bread, and something called sweet tea, which I’d never tasted, six of us were assembled in a room with a long table where we would begin our orientation.

  A tall, slim woman who appeared to be in her early thirties walked in. She wore a brightly colored cotton skirt and a white sleeveless blouse. Her dark ponytail was caught back with a red scarf.

  “Hello,” she said and smiled. “I’m Joyce and I’ll be your supervisor while you’re employed here. If you have any questions, any problems, I’m the person you need to find and speak to. I’m in charge of the dining room and kitchen, and this is the area the six of you have been assigned to. Any questions yet?”

  All of us shook our heads.

  “Okay, then. Let’s begin with you introducing yourself to me and the others. Tell us your name and where you’re from.” She pointed to the girl at the end of the table.

  “I’m Barbara, and I’m from North Carolina.” She paused for a second before adding, “And I’m so happy and excited to be here,” which caused Joyce to smile.

  “And I’m Susie.” The girl reached back to pull her ponytail tighter in the elastic. “Oh, and I’m from Louisiana.”

  This was followed by Sally, Carol, Cynthia, and I giving our names and where we were from.

  “Okay,” Joyce said. “Four of you from Pennsylvania. Did you girls know each other before coming here?”

  “We’re sisters,” Sally said. “But we didn’t know those two.”

  “And we’re best friends,” Cynthia explained.

  “Well, I’m sure within a few weeks all of you will know each other well. When you’re off duty you’ll probably socialize together. There isn’t much to do in Amelia Island, but there is a bus that will take you to Jacksonville. There’s a movie theater there, bowling, restaurants, and various things to do. But right now we need to focus on your job.”

  She reached into a box she had on the table and walked around the room, placing rectangular plastic name tags in front of us. I glanced down at mine, saw Rhonda written in large block letters, Dining Staff below my name and a small palm tree etched beside it.

  Joyce returned to her seat at the head of the table. “You are to wear these name tags at all times when you’re on duty.” She pointed to an eight-by-ten sheet of paper that had been taped to the wall beside the door. “That’s your schedule for the week. Be sure to check it at least once a day because sometimes there might be a change due to somebody being sick or unable to work their hours. You will rotate between the breakfast, lunch, and dinner shifts. When your duties in the dining room have been completed, which means when the final guest has left and you have finished removing the plates, you will return to the kitchen for various tasks. This is when salt and pepper shakers are refilled, linen napkins folded, and you’ll be instructed by the kitchen staff what needs to be done. Any questions?”

  “Yes,” Sally said. “Are the guests only from the hotel?”

  “No, they’re not. For breakfast they are mostly guests staying here at the hotel. But during lunch and especially dinner we have a fair number of local residents or tourists who book a reservation. For lunch and dinner on the weekends, which is Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, we operate a little differently. Many of the guests booking during that time are local residents and they prefer to not only have the same table but the same server. I won’t lie, these are prominent people in the community and they’re used to being catered to. We will help you get to know them, but they like to be greeted by name and some of the men tip very well if they know their server has checked the reservation book ahead of time and has made note of their preferred cocktail, so it’s waiting for them when they’re seated.”

  Cynthia nudged me, and I knew she was thinking the same thing I was. We would be organized, we’d get a notebook to jot down the names and preferences until we knew them all by heart—and we would make extra money with our tips.

  I saw Carol raise her hand, and Joyce nodded toward her.

  “We do have Mondays off, don’t we?” she asked in soft voice.

  “Yes,” Joyce said. “The restaurant is closed on Mondays. Guests staying at the hotel can go to the reception area for coffee and various pastries for breakfast, but no formal meals are served in the dining room. Any other questions?” When the room remained silent, she said, “I’m going to go get Earle. He’s our head waiter and I want to introduce you to him.”

  All of us sat there quietly thinking about everything we’d just learned.

  “Sounds pretty good to me,” Cynthia whispered, and I nodded.

  A few moments later Joyce returned, followed by a tall, good looking fellow. His blond hair contrasted with his deep tan, giving him movie star appeal. He wore his hair longer on top, which reminded me a bit of Fabian, the singer who appeared on American Bandstand. He wore a crisp white shirt and black slacks and stood at attention beside Joyce.

  “This is Earle. He’s our head waiter and has been with us for three years. Earle will be circulating the dining room while you’re working. He’s there to help you with any problems you can’t handle.”

  Cynthia leaned over and whispered, “He can help with my problems any time.”

  “For instance, if a guest complains about how something is cooked or the wrong side dish was put on the plate or the wrong dessert. Apologize to the guest, find Earle, and he will take care of it. He interacts with the kitchen staff. Also, if you have a large party and your trays are exce
ptionally full, get Earle and he will help you carry them into the dining room. Any questions?”

  Cynthia leaned toward my ear again. “Yeah, is he single?”

  “No? Okay, then Earle would like to say a few words.”

  The moment he began to speak I swear all six of us swooned. He had a voice that was very different from what we were used to in Pennsylvania. It reminded me of slowly melting butter oozing out of his mouth in the form of words.

  He stood with his arms clasped behind his back and had a friendly air of assurance. A smile lit up his face. “Welcome to Broadglen’s. I hope you’ll be happy working here. As Joyce said, if you have any problems in the dining room, I’m there to help you, so don’t be shy. I’ll see all of you over the next few days as you begin your shifts. Any questions?”

  “Yes,” I heard Cynthia say. “Where is that accent from?”

  He threw his head back, laughing. “That would be Alabama, miss. Birmingham, Alabama.”

  It didn’t escape me that even before he had asked if we had questions, his eyes had been riveted on Cynthia’s face.

  Chapter 4

  By the time Marta arrived at eight the following morning, I had had breakfast, showered, gotten dressed, and was ready for my walk on the beach with Lotte.

  I was finishing up my coffee when she came in the back door. She pulled me into a hug and said, “I’m very happy you’ll be staying here, Petra. Mavis Anne would be sad if the house stayed empty after Isabelle moved out. If there’s anything I can do for you, just let me know.”

  I thanked her and began to clip Lotte’s leash to her collar.

  “Oh, Marta, I wanted to ask you something. Mavis Anne is planning to have a Christmas party here at Koi House. Would it be possible to hire you to make the pastries? We don’t have a date or time yet, but it will probably be a tea in the afternoon.”

  “Of course.” She smiled before adding, “Just let me know when you have the details, but I’d be more than happy to do that.”

  After walking the beach with Lotte, I stopped at the farmer’s market downtown to purchase some fresh produce.