Allison O'Brian on Her Own, Volume 2

by Melody Carlson

  “Really?”

  Muriel smiled. “Really. You and Andrew are both mature, responsible young people. What with the war and all, you’ve both had to grow up faster than most children. Besides, it won’t be all that long until Andrew will have to go off to college.”

  Allison nodded. Somehow hearing Muriel say these things out loud made her feel as if the world were all right again. “Thanks, Muriel. I needed to hear that.”

  Muriel chuckled. “I’m not surprised that you did. Your life seems to be constantly changing, but I think you are holding up quite well. You’re blossoming into a lovely young woman despite all the craziness that you’ve been through in the last six months. Now I just remembered why I came up here. Your dad is ready to show you the big surprise.”

  “Thank you, Muriel.” She threw her arms around the dear woman. “Thank you. I’ll go right now, then I’ll come see if you need any more help. Our guests should be arriving in an hour.”

  Allison crept down the dimly lit stairs to the basement. She could smell the oils and turpentine from her father’s art studio. The first time she had come down here, it had felt all damp and spidery, but James had cleaned things up since then. He’d painted the walls white, and he kept the little wood stove burning almost constantly. It reminded her of the lighthouse, only much bigger.

  “Hello, there,” he called from behind a large canvas that was set upon an easel. “I was just finishing up something very special, and I wanted you to see it before I unveil it today. Now, close your eyes and I’ll turn the easel around. Don’t open until I say so. I want to adjust the light just right.”

  Allison closed her eyes. She wondered what it might be. She hoped it was a painting of the lighthouse—she had told him that she wanted one of her own. She knew just where she would hang it in her room.

  “Okay, you can look!”

  Allison opened her eyes and caught her breath. It was her! There on the canvas, dressed in the creamy satin gown that she had worn to the Harvest Ball, with the glowing white pearls around her pale neck. Her head was tilted slightly to the left, and the way her father had captured the light made the picture seem almost alive.

  “Dad, it’s amazing,” she breathed.

  “Do you like it?”

  “I love it. I mean, I know it’s supposed to be me, but it’s so beautiful—”

  Dad laughed. “Of course it’s beautiful. If it wasn’t beautiful, it wouldn’t be you!”

  She threw her arms around him and laughed. “Well, you know how they say parents see their children—”

  “I beg your pardon. I happen to think it’s the spitting image of you.”

  She stepped back and looked at it again, then sighed. “It’s truly lovely.”

  “I don’t usually do portraits.” James stepped up and examined it closely. “But when I got the photographs developed from the Harvest Ball, I decided that I had to give it a try. It felt almost as if I was inspired. Muriel is the only one who has seen it, and she went absolutely nuts over it.”

  Allison couldn’t remember ever feeling so loved or flattered.

  “Now that you’ve seen it, do you mind if I show it to everyone today after dinner?”

  “Of course not, Dad. And speaking of dinner, I better go give Muriel a hand.”

  “And I better go get cleaned up.”

  The Thanksgiving dinner was just as delightful as Allison had anticipated it would be. She was so thankful for the little chat she’d had with Muriel. She didn’t even feel uncomfortable when Andrew said she looked nice. When they couldn’t eat another bite of turkey, James invited everyone to the library for a private showing of his latest achievement, and Muriel announced that dessert and coffee would be served later.

  Allison suddenly felt apprehensive about Andrew looking at the portrait of her. She knew that her father had made her look far more beautiful on the canvas than she would ever be in real life. But that was a father’s eye. What would Andrew think?

  They funneled into the library, where James had set the painting above the mantel. Immediately Grace began to exclaim how wonderful it was. Allison tried to describe it to Heather, promising her that when it was fully dried she could trace her fingers over it while Allison described it again. But as she was speaking to Heather, her eyes were on Andrew. He stood several feet away, staring at the portrait as if transfixed. Allison felt her cheeks growing warm as if he were staring at her.

  “It’s pretty, but it doesn’t have very many colors in it,” Winston said before he turned to the chess set and began arranging the pieces for a game. Allison chuckled. A ten-year-old art critic.

  “It’s beautiful,” said Andrew quietly.

  “Allison didn’t think it really looked like her,” James said.

  Allison cringed at his words. There was no need to announce the obvious.

  “Of course it looks like her,” Grace declared.

  “Yes,” Andrew agreed. “Very much so. It is amazing. I can’t imagine how you do it, James. I don’t have a bit of artistic talent in me, and I can’t fathom how someone could take paints and a canvas and create something so lifelike and beautiful.”

  Allison savored those words.

  “It sounds very lovely, Allison. I only wish I could see it, too.” Heather said.

  Allison took Heather’s hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. “Many times I’ve wished I could perceive things the way you do, Heather. You seem to have a sense that is deeper than seeing.”

  Just then the phone rang, and Allison jumped, then laughed at herself as James answered it. When it sounded as if he would be on the phone for a while, they slowly trickled out of the library. Allison and Heather went to see if they could help Muriel in the kitchen.

  Just as Allison was dropping big dollops of whipped cream onto wedges of pumpkin pie, James burst into the kitchen with a gigantic smile.

  “Great news, everyone,” he announced. “My friend Clarence Trundle just called from San Francisco. I had sent some oils down there last summer, and suddenly they have become all the rage. He sold three just last week. Now he wants everything I have.”

  “That’s great, Dad!” Allison shouted.

  “Congratulations,” Heather cheered.

  Grace came into the kitchen. “When does he want you to send more paintings?” she asked as she picked up a tray of desserts to carry into the dining room.

  “That’s the thing. He said if he had them right now, he would get a jump on the holiday traffic that starts flowing through there this time of year. And I was thinking,” James paused and his brow creased. He picked up the other tray of desserts and began to move toward the dining room, too. “Well, I’ll tell you all what I was thinking as soon as we get a taste of Muriel’s delicious pumpkin pie.”

  They were quickly seated so James could continue.

  “I was thinking that the fastest way to get my paintings down there would be to fly. I would want to pick up some that are still in Portland, then I could head straight down—”

  “What about your instrument rating?” Grace interrupted suddenly.

  “Oh, I’d take Mac along, of course. And if we needed, he would fly. It would be a good way for me to get in more hours as well as get the paintings down there.”

  “Can I go, too?” Allison asked, but then she remembered that she and Heather were supposed to go to Portland with Grace tomorrow. She glanced at Grace. “Oops, I forgot,” she said, trying to hide her disappointment. “I’m going with you to Portland.”

  “Well, you don’t have to—”

  “No,” James said. “There’s no reason to change any plans.”

  “Maybe I could come along,” Andrew suggested hopefully.

  Allison looked at him with a twinge of jealousy. She would much rather fly to San Francisco than look at silly bridesmaid dresses.

  “Sure, if Grace doesn’t mind,” James nodded in agreement. “We should be back by Sunday.”

  Grace frowned. “I suppose it would be all right.”

/>   “All right!” shouted Andrew.

  Grace sighed and shook her head. “But to be honest, everything in me wants to say no.”

  “We understand, Grace.” James reached across the table to cover her hand with his. “And believe me, in time your apprehension will wear off. I’m sure you’ll get more and more comfortable with the whole thing.”

  “I sure hope so,” said Grace, twisting a linen napkin with her free hand.

  It was settled. James called Mac, and the three of them would leave at daybreak. Grace, Heather, and Allison would leave for Portland a little later, and Winston would stay with Muriel and George.

  “Why do I get left out of everything?” Winston complained.

  “You think you’d like to go look at bridesmaid dresses?” Allison teased, and Winston groaned as if that would be a fate worse than death.

  “I thought maybe you and I could do us a little crabbing,” George said with a twinkle in his eye.

  “All right!” Winston exclaimed.

  “I just hope this is the right thing,” Grace said.

  “Come on, Grace,” James said gently. “Remember what you said about trusting God?”

  “I know, I know. But it’s one of those things that is easier said than done. I just have this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach.”

  “You probably ate too much turkey,” Andrew teased.

  “Perhaps” was all she said.

  The bridesmaid dress expedition felt like a total waste of time to Allison. They didn’t find anything they all liked, and Grace decided she would be better off sewing the dresses herself. Allison wished that she were flying to San Francisco with her dad, but she wisely kept these thoughts to herself.

  “They’re in San Francisco now,” said Heather as Grace drove back home.

  “Yes,” agreed Grace. “They have probably been there for several hours by now. I hope it’s going well.”

  Allison sensed the worry in her voice. “I’m sure it’s going great,” she said reassuringly. “I wonder if they’re enjoying seeing San Francisco. I’ve always wanted to go there.”

  “I was there for a short while before I was sent overseas during the war,” said Grace. “It’s a very pretty city. The Golden Gate Bridge is quite spectacular. You know, if I ever get over my plane fear, it might be nice to fly down there.”

  Allison smiled. “That’s the spirit, Grace.”

  When they got home, Muriel announced that James had called from San Francisco and their flight had gone flawlessly. “Not only that,” said Muriel with flushed excitement, “but apparently Clarence was very pleased with the paintings. He thinks Jamie is the cat’s pajamas!”

  Allison and Heather burst into giggles over this, and Grace seemed visibly relieved. Muriel went on to tell them that Andrew, Mac, and James would relax and enjoy the sights tomorrow, and they expected to arrive back before dark on Sunday.

  The house seemed very quiet on Saturday, especially after the excitement of the last few days. Muriel had gone into town to do some shopping, and George was outside working on something. It reminded Allison of when Grandpa had been ill last summer, and she had tiptoed around the house by herself. She wondered what Grandpa would think of all the developments since then. She could just imagine him chuckling with delight over everything that had transpired. And all because he so persistently kept writing to Marsha.

  Although it was windy and cold outside, the sun was shining, and she decided to bundle up and head down to the beach. She took a tablet and pencil with her. She was working on a story for the school paper and thought perhaps the sound of the wind and waves would inspire her. Instead, she found herself just walking, buffeted by the wind. It was nice to brace the elements and know that when she got too cold, there was a warm house waiting for her up on top of the cliff. Her house—her home.

  “Thank you, God,” she prayed out loud. She was thinking about her father, the family she was going to have, and her friends. “Thanks for giving me all these wonderful people. I never, ever would have dreamed that my life could be so full and happy.”

  Sunday afternoon Allison, Grace, Heather, and Winston decided they would surprise James and Andrew by meeting them at the airport. Allison thought that it was Grace’s way of showing how she was coming around to this whole “flying thing,” as she still called it. Larry was supposed to be managing the office while Mac was away, but Allison had her doubts. At least he knew how to run the radio and answer the phone. James had hinted he planned to have a serious chat with Larry and to give him the chance to become a better worker or else look for another job. When they walked up to the office, they found Larry fast asleep with his feet propped up on Mac’s cluttered desk.

  “Hello?” Grace said with a puzzled expression. This was the first time she had met Larry, and Allison felt embarrassed, as if somehow this reflected poorly on their decision to buy the airport.

  “Hi, Larry,” Allison said as he jerked awake. “This is Grace Sanders, and Heather and Winston Amberwell. We came out to meet Dad’s plane. Any word from them yet?”

  Larry rubbed his whiskered chin and groggily shook his head. “Nope, nothing. But they should be rolling in here any time now.” He peered at the clock on the wall as if surprised by what it said. Then he stood up. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” he said as he nodded toward Grace. “You just excuse me for a minute.” He disappeared out the back door, and Grace looked at Allison.

  Allison shrugged. “He’s kind of strange.”

  Grace nodded, then looked toward the radio. “What if James and Mac need to radio while he’s not here? Do you know how to run that thing?”

  “Not exactly, but I’ve seen Mac do it. He just pushes the button on the microphone and then talks into it.”

  Winston laughed. “I know how to do that.”

  “Do you want me to pull up some chairs to wait in here, or would you like to go outside? Dad’s probably already given you the tour.”

  “Maybe we should stay in here. It’s awfully cold out there.”

  “I want to go look at the planes,” Winston said.

  “Okay, but be careful. Don’t climb into any of them, and stay away from the runway,” Grace warned in a no-nonsense voice. Winston nodded soberly, then shot out the door.

  Allison scrambled around finding and arranging chairs for Grace and Heather and herself. She pointed out the flight chart on the wall and offered to make some fresh coffee. She desperately wanted to make the place look good. She was certain that to Grace it looked run down and hopeless.

  “There’s a lot of work to be done out here,” Allison began apologetically. “But I think it will be a fun challenge. Dad has all sorts of ideas. And once we get the air shipping business going . . .” Allison’s voice trailed off.

  Grace nodded. “Oh, I can certainly see how this place could become a bustling family business. It’s obvious it needs a woman’s touch, too.” She wiped her finger across Mac’s desk, leaving a groove in the dust.

  Allison giggled. “I suppose so.”

  The door opened as Larry stuck his head into the room. He glanced at the radio. “Any word while I was out?”

  “Nothing,” said Allison. “Should you have heard from them by now?”

  Larry looked at the clock again, then frowned. “Well, I would’ve thought so.” He looked at the flight chart. “I wonder if they had any bad weather. It’s been colder than usual up here. But if they weren’t coming in, I’m sure they would’ve called by now.”

  Grace looked at Allison with uncertainty.

  “I’m sure that everything’s fine,” Allison said. “And since they haven’t called, we might as well assume they’re on their way.”

  Larry looked at her as if she were a genius. “Yep, that’s just what I was thinking.”

  “Would anyone like some coffee?” Allison asked for the second time, eyeing the encrusted little stove in back. Thankfully, no one was interested.

  Winston came back, red-cheeked from the cold. They all sat
and waited, trying to make small talk. Finally it was getting dusky outside, and Larry went out and turned the runway lights on.

  “We didn’t used to have lights,” he explained. “As it is we hardly ever use them. But they are nice to have in the case of an emergency.”

  Allison saw Grace bristle at the word emergency, and Allison felt a wave of apprehension, too. What if something really had gone wrong? Why hadn’t they radioed in to say where they were?

  “I’m worried,” Grace said, almost echoing Allison’s thoughts. “I would think they would be here by now.”

  “Aw, planes come in late all the time,” Larry said. “You don’t need to worry. Maybe you should all just go on home. I’ll call you as soon as I hear anything.”

  Grace looked at Allison. “You kids do have school in the morning,” she said. “And I’m sure you’re getting hungry. Maybe that would be best.”

  “I’d like to wait here,” Allison said, not liking the idea of leaving Larry alone in the office. If he had been sleeping so soundly that he hadn’t heard them come into the office, then perhaps he wouldn’t hear the radio or the phone.

  Grace stood up. “I don’t know about that, Allison. I’m not sure what your dad would think.”

  “Let’s walk out to the car,” Allison suggested.

  Once they were outside, Allison told Grace her concerns about Larry.

  “But I don’t like leaving you here alone,” said Grace.

  “Why don’t you take Winston and me home,” Heather suggested. “Then you can come back and wait with Allison.”

  “That’s a good idea, Heather,” said Allison. “If you want to, Grace.”

  “Yes, maybe I’ll take Heather and Winston to stay with Muriel. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

  So it was settled. Allison went back to keep an eye on Larry and make sure that he didn’t fall asleep again. This time she decided to make some coffee, and after some searching and cleaning, she finally got a pot perking just as Grace came back.

  “Any news?” asked Grace hopefully.

  Allison shook her head. “Nothing.”