“Thank you. It’s my pleasure.”
“You’re getting settled in then?”
“I am. I feel quite at home here in Henniker.”
“Good. I gather you’re here for the English Department meeting. It’s in the conference room, down this hall and on your left.”
“Thank you.”
Two men stood chatting at the head of a long table. A woman filled a cup from a coffee pot. She turned and smiled. “You must be Francine Hollensby.” She approached with one hand extended. “I’m Cheryl Whitcomb. I teach the Classics.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Put your bag down and have some coffee. There are donuts, too, but I can only lust after them.” She patted her ample hip. “Last semester’s pastries all settled right here and don’t want to leave. You, on the other hand, may indulge.”
Fancie laughed. “Just one, I suppose.”
Cheryl sighed. “Yes, I said the same thing this time last year.”
A third man entered the room and took his place at the head of the table. His shock of snow white hair made his blue eyes stand out. He looked remarkably like Dr. Archer. He removed a stack of papers and set them on the table, then sat. “We’ll get started when you’ve all refilled your cups.”
Fancie returned to the table and took a seat beside Cheryl.
The man looked around the room, welcoming each person. His eyes settled on Fancie. “And you must be our newest addition to the department. Miss Francine Hollensby from Columbus, Mississippi. Graduated from the University of Mississippi in Oxford. Taught Creative Writing at the Mississippi University for Women.”
A blush warmed Fancie’s cheeks. “That would be me.”
“I’m Dr. Wesley Archer. You’ve obviously met my brother, Trevor. I’m the head of the English Department. I would have met you earlier at your interview, but I was out of the country. Everyone here calls me Wes so we avoid confusion. Welcome.”
“Thank you.”
Fancie was easily the youngest member of the English Department faculty, but by no means the youngest at heart. The two hour meeting slipped by quickly, filled with the business of reviewing class outlines for the semester, the calendar, and interspersed with humor, some of which went over her head.
“Miss Hollensby, if you’ll stay for a few moments, I’ll show you to your classroom and give you a set of keys,” Wes said.
The older man walked with a slight limp in his gait. “Bum knee,” he explained. “Arthritis. I hope you don’t mind a slow stroll across campus.”
“Not at all. It’s a beautiful day.”
“I spent some time at Keesler Air Base in Biloxi during the Vietnam War. New Hampshire is quite different from Mississippi.”
“Yes, it sure is. My father served in Vietnam. He was Army. How long have you taught here?”
“Longer than you’ve been alive, I’m afraid. Thirty-two years.” He held a door open for her and waited. “Here we are.”
After showing her the classrooms and providing her with keys and a campus map, Wes wished her a good day. “My office is on the second floor to the right. Feel free to come by any time if you have a question or need a cup of coffee. My secretary keeps a pot on constantly. I’m surprised the woman isn’t dancing on the ceiling most days from the caffeine.”
She smiled. “Thank you so much. I’ll be sure to stop by.”
Fancie returned to her classroom and a wave of anticipation rolled through her. This was it—her new beginning. She was ready for this. She checked the time, then pulled her cell phone from her purse and punched in Chastity’s number.
“Francine, I’m not speaking to you,” her cousin said.
“Why not? What did I do?”
“It’s what you did not do, which was to call me every day. You have no idea what you’ve been missing.”
“I don’t think I’ve missed that much. You should see this place. It’s like a picture postcard of what you imagine small town New England to be like. I can’t wait to take some photos and send them, but I’ll wait until the leaves change. I’m sitting right now in my new classroom. Oh, Chas, this was the right thing for me to do.”
“That could not be more true.”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you sitting down?”
“I am now. What’s going on?”
“Dr. Graham Wellington and the widowed Marianne Babbitt have announced their engagement.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Serious as a heart attack. Can you believe it? And it actually says ‘the widowed’ on the invitation. How tacky is that?”
“You got an invitation?”
“No, of course not. I just happened to overhear Margaret Stillings talking while I was in line to get coffee. I practically ripped the invitation out of her hands to read it.”
Fancie wasn’t sure how she felt. She should feel relieved that she’d gotten out in time, before she became Mrs. Graham Wellington whose husband took up with the Widow Babbitt on the side. “You know what? I hope they’re happy. I almost pity her.”
“Everyone is town is talking about it.”
“And about me,” Fancie added with a sigh.
“Yes, but they pity you.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better? Now I know for sure getting out of town was the best thing to do. By the way, Luke is going to stay at Quail Hill while he does research in the area. Would you check with Mama and help get the guest house ready?”
“The guest house?”
“Bitsy’s place. Mama and Daddy are going to let him use it for a while. But Mama won’t think to stock it with wine and other essentials. He drinks beer, too, but I’m not sure of the brand, so don’t worry about that.”
“I’ll take care of it. This should start up a whole new thread of gossip.”
“Why?”
“Handsome professor from the North comes to study the Civil War in the South after meeting up with jilted bride at a romantic beach in Georgia.”
“I thought I was the writer in the family. You apparently have quite a flair for fiction, too.”
“It’s not fiction. It’s just my spin on the truth.”
“Yes, well, please don’t go spinning your truth around town.”
“You’re no fun. Look, I have to go. I have a customer. I’ll call you this weekend.”
“Okay. Love you, cuz.”
“Love you, too. Bye.”
As Fancie returned to the house, the news of Graham’s engagement sank in. His relationship with Marianne Babbitt had not happened overnight. She felt like an idiot that her fiancé was sneaking around behind her back and she hadn’t a clue. She was reminded again of what Graham had told her when he called off the wedding—‘we’re not a good fit.’ She was sure he fit much better into Marianne’s bank account and her luxurious mansion.
She couldn’t let herself get caught up in the distraction of the ongoing saga of the doctor and rich widow. She had a new life to build. She also had Maura Lowry sitting on the top step of the porch.
Chapter Thirteen
Fancie fell into an easy rhythm as classes began. Most mornings she stopped by Kinley’s shop for coffee to take with her to her first class. She took her fair share of good-natured teasing about her accent and answered a multitude of questions about her life in Mississippi. And she had three solid chapters of her novel written.
Her housemates were quiet and seldom seen. Justin wandered into the kitchen now and then, usually when Fancie was cooking. It didn’t take her long to catch on that he wasn’t much of a cook and enjoyed a prepared meal. He had half the freezer filled with microwavable dinners. She often found replacement food in the fridge with a thank you note. She was more than happy to share and learned more about the man, though not about his time in Afghanistan. Beyond explaining his limp as the result of an IED explosion, he avoided the topic.
Maura politely declined Fancie’s invitations, preparing her own vegan meals and taking them to her room. The you
ng woman was studious and kept to herself, shying away from any conversation with Justin.
Fancie occasionally dined with Kate, but declined to invite Kate to join her on a day trip to Hampton Beach. She felt the need for time with herself, but wasn’t sure why. The early October day brought a tapestry of fall colors and chill to the air. Despite water temperatures that sent a shiver up her spine, Fancie removed her shoes and sank her toes into the cold, wet sand. She breathed in the salty air and laughed at the gulls that swooped and shrieked as they dove for treasure when the lapping waves receded.
She spread a blanket on the sand and enjoyed the lunch she’d brought along. Closing her eyes, she listened to the waves come ashore. A man with two young boys raced down the beach towing a high-flying kite. The laughter of the children bounced off her heart and pinged around insider her.
Fancie gazed out over the blue-green water. As easily as the sand slipped through her fingers, so had her dreams for a family—a husband and babies. She couldn’t summon up the energy to be angry with Graham. Sadness suddenly engulfed her. Tears stung and trailed down her cheeks. She pulled the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her palms and wiped the moisture away.
Finishing her lunch, Fancie watched a bank of clouds gather on the horizon and the wind picked up. Time to go. As she reached the car, she glanced back at the approaching storm clouds. How quickly she’d packed up and fled. Annoyed with herself, she slammed the trunk shut and climbed into the car. Was her big ‘starting over in New Hampshire’ really an escape from her life in Mississippi? Ashley had once cautioned about the ‘geographic cure’ and how it never worked. She also recalled having seen a quote on a mug in a gift shop, “Wherever you go, there you are.” But she was determined to turn this chapter into a positive step forward.
~
Fancie stared at the calendar. Christmas seemed so far off and she was homesick. If she flew rather than drove, she could spend Thanksgiving with her family. The ticket would cost a small fortune but, since she didn’t have to pay rent, she could make it work. She hit her mother’s cell number on speed dial.
“Hi, honey. This is a nice surprise. Is everything all right?”
Her mother’s voice brought tears to her eyes. She swallowed, trying to keep the emotion out of her own voice. “Hi, Mama. I’m fine, just a little homesick.”
“It’s so funny you called. I was just about to call you.”
“You were?”
“Yes. You know your daddy and I have an anniversary coming up. He surprised me today with a cruise.”
“That’s wonderful. You’ve wanted to do that for so long. Where are you going?”
“The Caribbean. For two weeks!”
“Wow, Daddy really went all out. Two weeks. When do you leave?”
Her mother hesitated. “November twenty-third. It’s the first time in years we won’t be here for Thanksgiving. But you didn’t plan to come home until Christmas and your brother’s going on some hunting trip with a couple of his friends. So your dad thought it would be a nice time for us to get away.”
Fancie’s breath caught. “Oh.”
“You weren’t thinking of coming home for Thanksgiving, were you?”
“Me? Uh…no. No. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” Her mood sank even lower. In all of her twenty-eight years, she’d never been anywhere but Quail Hill for Thanksgiving. She could still go home and spend the holiday with her cousins. But it wouldn’t be the same. “What about Grandma Bitsy?”
“Oh, sweetie. She doesn’t know one day from the next anymore. It’s sad, but the truth. We plan to have a nice dinner with her at the nursing home before we leave. Are you sure you’re okay? You sound like you’re coming down with a cold.”
“Allergies. Must be the different trees here.” She sniffled. “I hope you and Daddy have a wonderful time on the cruise.”
“I’m sure we will. I got a new iPhone. If I can just figure out how to take pictures and email them, I send you photos from every port.”
“Great. Give Daddy my love. I’ll talk to you again before you leave, I’m sure. Give Bitsy a hug for me, too. I have to run. Love you.”
“I love you, too. Oh, and about your friend, Luke.”
“What about him?”
“He’s such a nice man. It’s a relief to know he’ll be in the guest house while we’re gone. You know we can’t rely on your brother to be here and keep an eye on things.”
“Good. I’m glad it’s working out.”
“Well, I have to run. I need to schedule a hair appointment before we leave for Florida. That’s our departure point.”
“I’m happy for you and Daddy. Have a great time.”
Fancie ended the call and sat with her fingers wrapped around the phone, stunned. She would be on her own for Thanksgiving. Well, she’d have the long weekend to explore more of the area. There was a movie theater in Concord. She could take in a movie or two.
In the months she’d spent in this small college town, Fancie had learned that the one cure for self-pity was a brisk walk in the cool autumn air. She pulled on the new fleece jacket she’d purchased on her last trip to Concord and shoved her wallet into one of the pockets.
Kinley Slater greeted her with a warm smile when she entered the coffee shop. “Hey, Southern girl. How are you adjusting to the chill in the air?”
Fancie returned the smile. “It’s taking some getting used to. I swear I saw a few snowflakes.”
“Just wait. We almost always have snow and below freezing temps by Thanksgiving.”
At the mention of the holiday, Fancie’s smile faded.
“Vanilla latte, no whipped cream. Was it something I said?” Kinley asked, handing Fancie a steaming cup.
“Thank you.” Fancie removed a few bills from her wallet and handed them over the counter. “I guess I’m a little homesick and I won’t get back to Mississippi before Christmas.”
“Got plans for Thanksgiving?” Kinley asked.
Fancie shook her head. “No. My parents are going on a cruise for their anniversary and my brother’s going hunting with friends. I only have five days free anyway.”
“Then come and have dinner with us. It’ll be a small gathering. Me, Eddie—Amber and her boyfriend.” Kinley rolled her eyes. “He’s a piece of work, but we’re trying to like him.”
Fancie laughed. “I don’t want to intrude on your family holiday.”
“Nonsense. Eddie will be watching football and trying to get Halston…” She rolled her eyes again. “…to watch with him. Amber will be busy climbing all over the jerk…er…Halston. It’ll be nice to have someone sit with me in the kitchen while I cook.”
“I’m not much of a cook, but I’ll be happy to help. I am good at taking directions and washing pots.”
“Good. Then it’s settled. Come around two. Casual dress. When you see the way Amber and Halston dress, you’ll understand the new meaning of casual. Just don’t wear all black. They’ll think you’re part of their cult.” She jotted down the address and directions.
“They’re in a cult?”
Kinley laughed. “No, but to look at them, you’d think they were. Since when do guys wear black lipstick and eye liner? I swear that boy has more invested in makeup than I do.”
“Can I bring something?”
Kinley shook her head. “Just yourself. Unless you have a friend you’d like to bring along. That’s fine, too. We always have enough food for the Confederate army.”
“Thank you. I wasn’t really looking forward to spending the day by myself.”
“You’re welcome any time. Where you headed?”
“Just for a walk to clear my head. Then I have papers to grade.”
“Enjoy your walk.” Kinley turned to tend to the other customers who had come in.
Fancie left the coffee shop with a smile on her face. She’d made a friend in Kinley and wouldn’t be spending Thanksgiving all alone. As she walked across part of the campus and down to the covered bridge, a few students from her cl
ass passed by, smiling and saying hello.
Her students seemed to like her. A few often asked to talk about their writing and some showed real promise. She felt a sense of purpose in teaching. And to think she’d almost let it go.
She breathed in the chilled air and felt the cold nip at her cheeks. Steam rose from her coffee cup. She stopped in the middle of the covered bridge and peered through one of the narrow openings to the water below. The last vestiges of gold and orange leaves floated atop the slow-moving river. Fancie realized that, when she wasn’t feeling homesick, she liked living here. She was almost looking forward to the first snowfall.
On the way back through town, she stopped at the pharmacy-slash-grocery store and picked up popcorn and hot chocolate mix. Perfect for a cool autumn evening. Tonight she would try out the fireplace. Luke had shown her how to ready it for a fire and had even left kindling and logs in place. She would sit by the fire to grade papers and then work on her novel for a while.
She had just gotten the fire blazing and settled down with her snacks and a movie when the front door opened. Justin came inside and paused. “Nice fire.”
“Yes.” She hesitated, then said, “You’re welcome to sit and warm up.”
“I…uh…no, that’s okay. You look like you’re settled in for a movie.”
“Not one I’m paying much attention to. There’s still some cocoa in a pan on the stove if you want a cup.” Perhaps she was being too friendly, but she didn’t know how to share a house with people and not be engaging. Maura usually dodged her, but Justin seemed more comfortable in her presence.
He shrugged of his Army-issue jacket and draped it over the newel post on the staircase. “Thanks. That sounds good.”
Fancie turned off the TV and set the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table where it would be more accessible.
Justin sat in the recliner near the fireplace and sipped the cocoa. “Thank you. I haven’t had real homemade cocoa since I was a kid.”
“How are your classes going?” she asked.
“Pretty well, I think. I’m the old man in every one of them.” He grinned and she saw a more relaxed, somewhat handsome man behind the shadow of beard and the brooding eyes.
Flight of Fancie Page 11