Flight of Fancie

by Linda Rettstatt

  Slowing, she let out the line and the kite rose higher. Her spirits followed. The old Fancie had been a dreamer, but her dreams were practical, not unrealistic. Dreaming was a part of her creativity and her love of books. How much of her freedom to dream had been compromised by her efforts to fit into Graham’s life, to make him happy. As much as she hated to admit it, he had been right. They weren’t a good fit. He had no use for dreams—hers or his own.

  The kite dipped and tugged on the string. Fancie stared up to watch it catch the wind and soar. She used to soar. Until she gave over the control to a man who couldn’t appreciate the beauty of this particular kind of flight.

  Fancie was half way down the expanse of beach when she heard the yip of a dog. Barney raced across the sand toward her.

  “Barney, no. Come back here,” Luke shouted. But the little dog was running full-tilt at Fancie.

  Fancie held her arm high, letting the kite ride the wind current and stretched the other hand out for the dog.

  Barney stopped short and sat at her feet, panting. Luke pulled up behind, panting even harder. “I’m sorry. It looked you were having a great time.”

  “I am.” A tug on the line drew her attention back to the kite and she let out more string.

  “So this is what you do to think about things?”

  “Nah. I haven’t done this in years. I had a talk with my mother and she reminded me of something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Who I am. Or who I was before….” People were gathering on the beach. Fancie began to reel the kite in. “Funny how what you think is the worst experience of your life can turn out to be the very thing that leads you to where you need to be.”

  “The beach?”

  She shook her head, drawing the kite down and taking hold of its fragile frame. “Free.”

  “You do know the state motto of New Hampshire, don’t you?”

  “What is it?”

  “Live free or die.”

  Fancie smiled. “Maybe that’s a sign.”

  Chapter Seven

  With the car packed and the cottage closed up, Fancie backed the Chrysler from the drive and stopped, glancing briefly to the house next door. It was only eight a.m. and she wondered if Luke would still be sleeping. She wondered a lot about Luke in the past twelve hours. She’d only known him for a week, but felt more like herself when she was with him than she had with Graham in over two years. She had to remind herself that she and Luke didn’t have a relationship. She remembered what her mother said—Relationships change people.

  “Did you forget something?” Charity asked.

  “No, nothing.” Except who Fancie Hollensby is. She put the car into drive and pulled away from the curb. She tried to focus as they encountered Savannah’s morning traffic.

  Ashley yawned from the back seat. “I don’t know why we had to leave at the butt crack of dawn. We could’ve waited and missed the traffic.”

  “It’s a long drive. Better to get an early start.” Fancie wasn’t sure why she felt this urgency to go home when the last thing she wanted was to face people in Columbus and see their pitying stares. She cleared the downtown area of Savannah and picked up speed. Her stomach felt as if she’d swallowed live bees.

  They stopped for lunch and she was reluctant to give over the car keys to Charity. “You drive like an old lady. I want to get home today.”

  “Give me the keys,” Ashley said. “I’ll have you there in half the time.”

  Fancie frowned. “I also want to get there alive.”

  Mikayla stretched out her elegant mocha-toned hand. “Hand ’em over, Miss Daisy. I’ll get you home soon and in one piece.”

  Fancie was relieved to drop her head back and close her eyes. She had a lot of thinking to do. New Hampshire seemed like a great idea a day ago. The closer she got to home, the less appealing it seemed. But she had to do something other than retreat to her parents’ house and grow old—alone. She had fallen into a rut. No, she’d jumped feet first into that rut. It was time to climb out, dust herself off, and have a life.

  As the car wound up the long, tree-lined drive to Quail Hill, Fancie felt a ripple of anxiety snake up her spine. She waited while the others piled into Chastity’s car and waved as they left. Then she picked up her suitcase and stared at the house before going inside. Once she walked back through that door, she was opening a new chapter in her life and hadn’t a clue where it would lead. Under the anxiety rippled a frisson of excitement. Anything was possible.

  Before she reached the top step, the door flew open and her mother met her with a broad smile and open arms. “It’s so good to have you back home.”

  “I was only gone six days, Mama.”

  “And I missed you every single one. Did you have supper? I just put fried chicken away. I’ll warm you a plate. You look so tanned and healthy. I think the beach agreed with you. Come on, let’s get your things inside.”

  “I’ll take my suitcase upstairs, then I’ll come to the kitchen. But I’m not very hungry. We stopped for lunch.” Fancie climbed the stairs to her bedroom and plopped the bag down on her bed. The room with all its pink and fluff made her feel like a ten year old. If she stayed here, she was going to have to redecorate. If she stayed.

  “Where’s my favorite girl?” Her father’s footsteps sounded in the hall and he turned at her open door.

  “Hey, Daddy.”

  Suddenly, she was that ten year old girl again. The one that had been overlooked for the school play. Her father sat her down, dried her tears, and wrote a short play with her that the two of them performed for the family after Sunday dinner. Her daddy was always there to make things better. This was her fairy tale life. She thought Graham was part of that fairy tale, but he turned out to be a toad.

  Her father opened his arms to her and she practically launched herself into them. “Oh, Daddy. What am I going to do?”

  “You’ll be just fine. I talked with your Uncle Avery. He has a job for you at the newspaper as soon as you’re ready.”

  “Really?” Avery McHugh wasn’t a blood relative, but he and her father had grown up together. He was a brother to James Hollensby in every way possible and had always been Uncle Avery to Fancie and Tripp. She hadn’t considered working for the newspaper. “Doing what?”

  “I’m not sure. He just said that with your education and experience, you’d be an asset to the paper and to stop by there first thing tomorrow.”

  “Daddy, did you call in a favor with him to get me a job?”

  “No. He asked how you were and what you planned to do. I told him I didn’t know and he said, well, what I just told you.” He looked down at her. “You’d be doin’ what you like. Writing.”

  She nodded. “I’ll talk to him about it.”

  “Good. Now wash your face and come downstairs. Your Mama made some of the best fried chicken for dinner.”

  “I’m not very hungry.”

  “She’s already fixin’ you a plate. Come on, now.”

  Fancie knew it was pointless to argue. And her mother did make the best fried chicken in six counties. Her recipe had won ribbons at the county fair.

  Her mouth began to water when she walked into the kitchen. “Smells good, Mama.” She sat and picked up a golden brown crusted chicken breast and bit into it. “Mmm.”

  “There’s bread pudding for dessert.”

  “My favorite dinner and dessert. You did this for me?”

  “Of course. I made enough for an army. I thought the girls would come inside, too. They seemed in a hurry to get out of here.”

  “It was a long drive and they’re tired.” Fancie took another bite and swallowed. “You heard from Tripp yet?”

  “No, and I’m a little worried. Your father says I shouldn’t be, but he’s been gone for five days without so much as a single phone call.”

  “He didn’t return my call, either. It went to voicemail. I’m sure he’s fine, probably just out of cell range.” Her mother’s worried look concern
ed her, though. “Do you know something I don’t?”

  “I discovered your brother lost his job at Banfield’s. A month ago.”

  “A month? He never said a word.”

  “I found out because when he didn’t turn up for a few days or answer his phone, I called there. Do you know how embarrassing it was for me, his mother, to call and not even know he didn’t work there any longer?”

  “Did they say what happened?”

  “He got into a fight with one of drivers. He had a good job there. He was a foreman in the warehouse. Your brother is not stupid. He could’ve gone to college, but he has this—restlessness in him. Anyway, I guess the fight was his fault. They fired him.”

  Fancie set down the remainder of the chicken breast and wiped her mouth and fingers. “He’s probably ashamed to come home. He’ll turn up in a few days with his tail between his legs.” She pushed the plate away. “I can’t eat any dessert tonight. I’m exhausted. I’m just going to unpack and call it an early night.”

  Her mother took the plate from her hand and leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “I’ll take care of this. You get some rest, sweetie. I want to hear all about your trip in the morning.”

  “Thanks, Mama. Goodnight.”

  Her body sank into the mattress, but her mind spun with questions. What if a move so far away from home was a mistake? What if she was taking the coward’s way out? What if it was all a mistake and Graham wanted her back?

  The final question caused her to bolt upright. Could she seriously consider giving him another chance? Was she really that desperate?

  She got up and, without turning on the light, crossed to her desk and opened her laptop. As soon as it booted up, she pulled up her browser and typed in Henniker, New Hampshire. The little town was even smaller than Columbus. Only a few shops lined the main street. The college seemed to be the largest enterprise in town, with the exception of a ski lodge. Skiing. Now that was something she’d love to try sometime. Photos showed a covered bridge over a narrow river surrounded by multi-colored autumn leaves. It looked so serene, she sighed aloud.

  Opening up a map, she was surprised to see how close it was to the Atlantic Ocean. Then she mapped the distance between Columbus and Henniker. At least a two-day drive. It would be a long way from home. Also a long way from Graham and the gossip mongers. She printed out the mapped route—just in case. Perhaps it was time for her to take flight. Some would say that, at twenty-eight, it was way past time. What was she waiting for?

  She knew what she had been waiting for. Her Prince Charming—the perfect end to her perfect fairy tale. It was time for a reality check. After shutting down the laptop, she tiptoed down the stairs and through the kitchen to the screened back porch. The temperature had only dropped about five degrees and humidity wrapped around her like a wet blanket. She sat in one of the cushioned wicker chairs with one leg folded under her. Crickets chirped and, in the distance, a dog barked. She loved this place—the sense of history and family and home it represented. Quail Hill had been her family home since before the Civil War. They had their own private cemetery on the property.

  Her grandmother, Bitsy, used to sit here and look off to the distance and say, “I was born here and this is where I’ll be laid to my final rest one day. It’ll always be home.” Then Bitsy needed more care than could be provided for her and had to go into the nursing home. It just about broke Fancie’s heart and, she knew, nearly killed her father to have to place his mother there. They had thought it would be temporary and then she could return home with minimal care, but the second stroke had made that impossible.

  Fancie’s vision blurred as she gazed across the expanse of back yard shadowed by trees lit from above by a nearly-full moon. When she was in high school, Bitsy was the one she always turned to for advice. Her grandmother would listen and consider what she had to say, then give her thoughts without judgment. And she always ended their conversations with a hug and an ‘I love you, Fancie Face.’ That was her grandparents’ version of the nickname Tripp had bestowed on her. She smiled now, remembering the way her grandfather’s eyes would twinkle when he’d smile and call her by this name. Even when she was a teenager and he knew it embarrassed her. She knew unconditional love. How had she gotten so twisted around in what Graham had called love?

  Hurt squeezed at her heart when she thought about Graham. Once she’d gotten past the anger and the embarrassment over his abrupt ending to their engagement, the hurt slowly seeped in, along with confusion. She had loved him. Made excuses for his arrogance at times and laughed off the ways he sometimes put her down as just teasing. She had given him everything—her love, her loyalty, her body and, most importantly, her heart. Had none of it meant a thing to him?

  When tears spilled down her cheeks, she hunched over and let them fall. Grief cascaded in shuddering sobs. Her friends had meant well and were only trying to protect her by whisking her away to the beach, but she hadn’t been able to grieve. She mostly felt sad that she had spent two years of her life with Graham planning for a future that would never be. She had to start over. As much as it scared her to consider the option, she knew the starting over needed to happen somewhere else. The seemingly perfect opportunity lay open to her. All she had to do was grasp it.

  Chapter Eight

  Fancie managed to avoid people she knew as she parked the following morning and hurried into the newspaper. She nodded quickly to the receptionist and turned toward Avery McHugh’s office. Her uncle sat behind his desk, talking on the phone. He glanced up and smiled, motioning for her to come in.

  Ending his call, he rounded the desk and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. “Fancie, sweetheart. You okay? It was shame what Dr. Wellington did.”

  “I’m okay. It’s best to let that be in the past. How are you?”

  He stepped back and patted his ample abdomen. “How do I look? I lost a pound.”

  She laughed. “It shows.”

  “Sit down here. I have a proposition for you.”

  “Did Daddy put you in a bad position to offer me a job? I don’t want you creating something just to give me work.”

  He shook his head. “No. I had someone quit and, well, it’s not exactly the perfect job for you, but you’re the first one I thought of. I need someone to proof ad copy.” He held up a hand. “Now, I know it’s not writing and, trust me, I wish Elvira Liston would retire. I’d give you her column in a heartbeat. But she’s too stubborn to quit and would sue me for age discrimination if I fired her.”

  “Uncle Avery….”

  “Hear me out. I’m not getting any younger. I have lots of other things I’d like to do. I was thinkin’ I’d bring you on board and, next year, I’ll semi-retire. You can help me run this place.”

  Help run the newspaper? “I…uh…. That’s very generous of you and I’m flattered. But I don’t know the first thing about running a newspaper.” How could she turn him down without hurting his feelings? She loved teaching and was determined to write a book. Not proofread advertising copy and then become…what…a manager? “Can I give it some thought?”

  His face fell with disappointment.

  “It’s just that I found another teaching job and I have an interview coming up for that. I’d like to check it out first. You know how I love teaching.”

  “I do. And I’d never tell you turn that down so you can read ad copy.”

  She smiled. “You didn’t really have a job open here, did you?”

  “Not really. But when your father said you were comin’ back to Columbus and didn’t know what you’d do, I wanted to have something for you here. It was the best I could do on short notice.”

  She threw her arms around him. “I love you, Uncle Avery. And working with you would be wonderful.”

  “But it’s not what you want to do. So, tell me about this other job.”

  As she talked about the possibility of teaching in New England, she found herself getting excited.

  “That’s a long way from here. But I
have no doubt you’ll not only get the job, if you want it, but you’ll dazzle those Yankees.”

  “Thank you. You’re the first person I’ve talked to about this. Mama and Daddy don’t know yet. Can we keep it between us until I speak with them?”

  “Our secret. Now, it’s close to lunch time and I need to find that pound I lost. Will you join me?”

  She hesitated. Lunch in downtown Columbus? Listening to the whispers about her and Graham. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to see people right now.”

  He put an arm around her and guided her toward the door. “Listen to me. What Graham did was not only ungentlemanly. It was downright despicable. If people are gonna talk, it’s him they’ll be talkin’ about. Not you. You hold your chin up and walk proud. And if anyone says anything inappropriate, they’ll have me to deal with. I may look harmless and out of shape, but I can put their names in the newspaper!”

  She laughed. “Fine. I’d love to join you for lunch.”

  The small family-style restaurant on the corner was busy and the only open table sat smack in the center. Fancie twitched under the gaze of other diners and avoided making eye contact.

  Her uncle frowned, then looked around. “Remember what I said—chin up.”

  She lifted her chin and waved at two women in a booth near the windows, forcing a smile.

  “That’s my girl.”

  They placed their orders and, while they waited for their food, a few people stopped by to say hello and to either issue condolences or tell her what they thought of Graham. She thanked them for stopping by and was careful not to defend Graham.

  When her uncle sat with a fork halfway to his mouth and a look of concern on his face, she turned to see what had his attention. Graham and Marianne Babbitt. Before she could turn away, Graham’s eyes locked with hers. He said something to Marianne and then crossed the restaurant to stand over Fancie.