Patterns of Change

by Terri DuLong

  I couldn’t help myself. “My God, she’s so cute! Is she a Yorkie?”

  A huge smile crossed Louise’s face. “Yes, she does have a lot of Yorkie and she’s such a good girl. Well . . . usually.” She removed the bag from her shoulder, placed it on the floor beside her, and shook her finger. “Now, you stay right there near Mama and be a good girl.”

  Ramona’s top hair was caught with a tiny yellow ribbon and I saw her adoring eyes never wavered from Louise’s face.

  “Well, Chloe, it’s so nice to see you here. I’m glad you made it. Settling in okay?”

  “I am. Thank you.”

  “Did you tend to that tire of yours?”

  “Yes, I got it fixed and I’m all set.” I saw the inquisitive glances from the other women and went on to explain about my flat tire mishap.

  “You were really lucky somebody stopped on that stretch of road to help you.”

  “I know and apparently he lives in Ormond-by-the-Sea, so he followed me all the way down Granada to make sure I was okay.”

  Maddie laughed. “Not a bad way to meet a new guy.”

  I could feel a blush creeping up my neck. Damn those hot flashes. “Oh, no . . . it was really just . . .” I stammered.

  Maddie nudged me playfully. “I was only kidding you. Did you exchange names, though?”

  “Actually, we did. I wanted to repay him and wasn’t sure what to do, so he gave me his card and said I could call him sometime and buy him a drink. Chadwick Price was his name.”

  The entire room went silent. I looked up from my knitting to see all faces glued to mine.

  “What?” I said. “What’s wrong?”

  “Did you say Chadwick Price? Maybe I wasn’t kidding,” Maddie said.

  “Why? Who is he?”

  “Only the most eligible and richest bachelor in Volusia County. Maybe in all of Florida,” Maddie replied, and I knew she wasn’t kidding with me this time. Thoughts of Worthington Slater, the love of Marin’s life, floated into my mind. I recalled that he had been reputed to be the most eligible and wealthiest bachelor in Levy County.

  “Oh,” was all I could say.

  “Well, I always said that young man had manners,” Mavis Anne said. “He was raised by a good southern mama. Just like my Jackson Lee Hawkins. Now there was a true gentleman. You don’t see many like him around anymore. That was very nice of Chadwick to stop and help you.”

  “It was,” I said. “His card said he’s in real estate. So I guess he has a lucrative business?”

  Maddie never lifted her eyes from the blue-and-white-striped socks she was working on. “Honey, Chadwick Price is into everything. Real estate is his main business, but he’s also an investor in various projects and he’s always giving back to the community. It was Chadwick who founded and funded both the domestic abuse center and the rape crisis center in town.”

  Mavis Anne nodded. “Yes, he’s quite the philanthropist. He’s a very good man.”

  “Not to mention pretty damn hot,” Maddie said, bringing forth chuckles from the others. “He throws a fund-raiser at his home every Fourth of July. I mean to tell you it rivals any of the celebrity gatherings. Black tie all the way.”

  “You’ve been?” I asked, somewhat surprised.

  “Oh, yeah. It’s the highlight of my year. It’s a fund-raiser for the hospital, and the guest list includes a lot of the doctors on staff, some professors from the college, but also a fair number of business owners in the community. I’ve been twice and wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

  I couldn’t help but wonder where I’d be in two months’ time.

  Mavis Anne nodded. “I have to agree. I’ve gone every year since he began having them about ten years ago.”

  “And lucky me,” Louise said. “Mavis Anne always chooses me as her date for the evening. It’s quite the lavish affair.”

  “It certainly sounds it,” I said.

  “So where are you taking him for that drink?” Maddie asked.

  “Oh . . . I’m not sure I was planning to call him.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Mavis Anne said. “Of course you’ll call him. Where’re your manners? It’s only a drink as a thank-you for rescuing you in a downpour on a lonely stretch of road.”

  Well, when she put it like that. “Yeah, maybe I’ll think about it . . . but I have no clue where to go around here.”

  “Take him to the Grind,” Maddie said. “It’s just around the corner from here and they have a nice tiki bar out back.”

  I nodded, but I’d clearly have to give this more thought.

  The rest of the afternoon passed quickly as I got to know the other women, and I was surprised to find that I was the last one still there. It had been a great way to spend a few hours—in the company of other women, talking, knitting, and sipping tea.

  I glanced at my watch. “Gosh, I can’t believe it’s going on five. I have to get home to walk Basil.”

  “We’re so glad you joined us,” Mavis Anne said. “I was wondering. . . if you’re not busy on Sunday afternoon, would you like to join us for dinner? David and Clive put together quite a wonderful feast every Sunday for Yarrow and me.”

  “Oh, yes. Come,” Yarrow said. “It’s the one day of the week that I do have to dress a little more formal than usual, but it’s worth it for Clive’s incredible cooking.”

  I took in Yarrow’s bib overalls, T-shirt, and sandals and wondered what the definition of “a little more formal” was.

  “Gosh, are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude on a family dinner.”

  Mavis Anne waved her hand in the air. “Don’t be silly. David and Clive simply adore entertaining. Sometimes Louise joins us too. We always do Sunday dinner at the family home. It’s just down the street here on North Beach and there’s a plaque hanging from the fence that says Koi House. You can’t miss it. Plan to arrive around twoish. Cocktails first, of course.”

  Of course.

  Chapter 9

  By Sunday morning I was beginning to feel as if I’d lived in Ormond Beach much longer than only six days. I was already making friends, getting to know my way around the area, and I even had a nice dinner invitation.

  When I returned from walking Basil on the beach, I bumped into Louise and Ramona outside our building.

  “Hey,” I said, walking over to them. “And how are you and Ramona today?”

  Basil did his customary sniff and turn routine with Ramona, who seemed to welcome his attention.

  “We’re just fine. Oh, I think my girl likes Basil. I told you she was a flirt.”

  I laughed as I bent down to pat her. “She’s so cute. And it’s obvious that she adores you.”

  “Yes, and it’s definitely mutual. I spoke to Mavis Anne this morning. How nice you’ll be joining them for dinner. I had to decline. I’ve been invited to my nephew’s home in Ponce Inlet, so Ramona and I are driving down there shortly. You’ll have a nice time at Mavis Anne’s. David and Clive are wonderful hosts.”

  “I’m looking forward to it. How formal should I dress?”

  Louise laughed. “Oh, if Mavis Anne had her way, it would be a ball gown. But a skirt or dress will do just fine. I love her dearly but sometimes her elitist attitude is over the top.”

  I joined her laughter. “You have a great day and I’ll see you soon,” I said, heading into the building.

  By one thirty I had decided on a black skirt, white silk blouse, and a black shrug that I’d knitted. I was looking forward to the dinner, but even more, I was itching to get inside that house. It had taken on an air of intrigue for me, yet I had no idea why.

  I had popped by Maddie’s florist shop the day before to purchase a bouquet of flowers as a thank-you, and a nice bottle of cabernet completed my offering. Picking up both from the table, I ruffled the top of Basil’s head with a promise not to be too late and headed out the door.

  I pulled into the brick driveway and stared at the house. Beyond its obvious beauty, I felt drawn to the house itself. And although my
mother was not standing in the doorway beckoning me inside, the structure did seem to open its arms to me with a feeling of love.

  I rang the doorbell and waited. I could hear chimes inside the house and a moment later the door was opened with a flourish. A man of medium height, wearing black slacks and a white shirt, bowed. I wondered if Mavis Anne had a butler.

  He extended his hand and gently guided me inside. “Hello and welcome. I’m David Overby, Mavis Anne’s brother. I’m so glad you could join us, Chloe.”

  I liked him immediately. He exuded a sincere friendliness in his demeanor, and his slightly pudgy face had an expression of joy.

  “Thank you so much for inviting me,” I said, as my eyes began to take in the room. Though far from ostentatious, it had a subdued grandness. A staircase to my left had an intricate carved balustrade of dark wood that matched the moldings in the room. Huge mullioned windows with panes of glass in a diamond shape flanked the front and side walls of the room. A lace swag curtain hung from the top of both windows and complemented the deep blue upholstered sofas and chairs.

  “Oh, it’s our pleasure,” David replied. “Everybody is on the patio having an aperitif. Right this way.”

  I followed him through a large archway into the next room, which appeared less formal, with buttery yellow leather furniture, bookcases, a round table set up with an onyx chess set, and a large flat-screen television hanging on the inside wall.

  We continued through a few small passageways toward the back of the house as I glanced at tables holding crystal bowls of fresh flowers, a walnut deacon’s bench with a gorgeous beige afghan placed over the back, more antique tables holding books or a lamp. We emerged into a bright breakfast area with a large lemon yellow oval table and chairs, cornflower blue walls with a huge designer kitchen to the right.

  I think by this time I let out a gasp at the beauty and luxury surrounding me.

  “This is absolutely stunning,” I whispered.

  I saw a smile cover David’s face. “Yes . . . but to us, it’s simply home sweet home.”

  I barely knew this man but I had no doubt that he did not possess one ounce of snobbery.

  “This is Marta,” he said, nodding toward a woman who was carefully placing canapés onto a silver tray. “We’d be lost without Marta. She is our right and left hand both.”

  A very attractive woman who appeared to be in her late thirties looked up and smiled. “Mr. David is too kind. Welcome.”

  She was tall and thin, with a fair complexion and exceptionally blue eyes; I detected a European accent but couldn’t quite place it.

  “Thank you,” I said. I glanced around the kitchen and knew it rivaled any that I’d seen on the cooking channel.

  I followed David through French doors off the kitchen and out to a brick patio where Mavis Anne and Yarrow sat on green-and-white upholstered furniture sipping wine. Standing beside a marble bar was a tall, thin man holding a martini glass. With a receding hairline and wire-rimmed glasses, he reminded me of a professor I’d had in college. In contrast to David, his demeanor was more reserved, and as soon as David introduced us and he said hello, I heard his clipped British accent.

  “Welcome, welcome,” Mavis Anne said. “What can Clive get you to drink?”

  I passed the flowers to her and handed the wine to David. “Just a little thank-you,” I said. “Oh, a red wine would be nice.” I turned toward Clive and smiled.

  “A red wine it is,” he said and returned my smile.

  “Come and join us,” Yarrow said, pointing toward an empty chair. “It’s such a gorgeous day to be outside, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” I said. “I guess we should enjoy it before the heat and humidity arrive.”

  I looked up to see Marta coming out with the tray. She placed it on the table in front of us along with napkins. “Would you like me to place the flowers in water?”

  “Thank you,” Mavis Anne said. “That would be nice.”

  It was then that my eye caught some movement to my left and I realized a swarm of butterflies was hovering just beyond a brick wall. I had no doubt the koi pond was inside that wall and felt a shiver go through me.

  “Your home is absolutely amazing,” I said.

  Mavis Anne took a sip of wine and nodded. “It is, and we were fortunate to grow up here, but the house is so lonely now. A house shouldn’t be lonely. I’ve always believed that this house has a soul and that soul needs to be nourished. During the time David, Emmalyn, and I were growing up here, there was constant activity. Not only us, with our friends, but also my father and his friends. Now . . .” She waved a hand in the air and I almost got the feeling she was speaking about a person rather than a house.

  “Here you go,” Clive said, passing me a wineglass.

  “Thank you.”

  Mavis Anne raised her glass in the air. “Here’s to Koi House and here’s to our new friend, Chloe. Welcome to Ormond Beach and may you be so happy here you won’t want to leave.”

  “Hear, hear,” Yarrow said and I smiled.

  I took a sip of wine and reached for a canapé. It was a stuffed mushroom but unlike any I’d had before. “This is delicious,” I said.

  Yarrow nodded. “Marta made those. She’s a real treasure. We’d be lost without her.”

  She certainly seemed to have a special place in their hearts. “Does she work for you?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Mavis Anne said and took another sip of wine. “She’s been with us just over ten years now. Marta came from Poland to join her sister in Palm Coast. There’s a large Polish community there.”

  I knew Palm Coast was only about thirty minutes north of Ormond Beach. “How nice,” I said. “She speaks English very well.”

  Mavis Anne nodded. “Her sister is my hairdresser and that’s how I met Marta. She needed a job and we needed a housekeeper, somebody to help out around here. My father was still alive then and I needed a caregiver for him. He adored Marta and when he passed away a few years later, we simply couldn’t part with her.”

  “Right,” David said. “So now we share her. She cleans for Clive and me and also looks after the house here and anything else we might need.”

  “That’s wonderful,” I said. “It certainly sounds like an ideal situation. Does she have a family besides her sister?”

  “She has a daughter. Krystina is now fourteen but they still live with Marta’s sister and her husband.”

  “So how do you like Ormond Beach so far?” Clive questioned and I realized he was making an attempt to change the subject.

  “I’m loving it. It already feels like home to me. Have you been here a long time?”

  “Over thirty years now. David and I met in London when we were both studying interior design and we’ve been together ever since. We own our own business here in town, although we’re not taking on many new clients. Are you retired?”

  I laughed and shook my head. “No, not really. More like between jobs at the moment. I was co-owner of a yarn shop in Cedar Key but I gave up my partnership last year when I had plans to move here with my significant other. We had made arrangements to purchase a home, raise alpacas, and start a yarn shop downtown. Unfortunately, Gabe passed away suddenly last June and I . . . well, I’m not quite sure what, exactly, I’m doing at the moment.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Clive said before Mavis Anne interrupted him.

  “A yarn shop?” She leaned forward in her seat. “You owned a yarn shop?”

  I nodded. “Yes, a lovely little shop. I have a degree in textile and fibers so it was really a dream come true. But I’m afraid the dream fell apart, because with this weak economy my partner is going to be closing the shop.”

  “Oh, what a shame,” Yarrow said.

  “It is indeed. Well, we’ll just have to see what we can do about that, because I have the perfect venue for a yarn shop.” Mavis Anne nodded her head emphatically.

  I recalled how she’d made some mention of this the first day I’d met her and how she’d been
unsuccessful in getting her niece to open one.

  I shook my head and smiled. “Oh, I don’t think so. Financially, I’m not in a position to take on a new business.”

  “Pish posh,” Mavis Anne declared while waving a hand in the air. “We need to discuss this more after dinner.”

  “Uh-oh!” Yarrow said. “My aunt has that look in her eye, and when Mavis Anne Overby has that look in her eye, watch out.”

  Chapter 10

  I wiped my lips with the rose colored linen napkin. “That was absolutely superb,” I said. “You guys should have been chefs rather than interior decorators.”

  Clive laughed and leaned over to refill my wineglass. “Ah, but see, if we had to cook for a living, I don’t think it would be quite the same. We cook for the pure joy of it.”

  He had a point. “Well, I’m not sure I’ve ever had duck confit as wonderful as this. And the garlic mashed potatoes and fresh green beans were excellent.”

  “Thank you,” David said. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, but wait until you see what Marta has prepared for dessert.”

  As if on cue, Marta entered the dining room with a smile on her face and winked at me as she began to remove our plates.

  I took a sip of wine and looked around the room. Situated off the kitchen, separated by a small hallway at the back of the house, the dining room had huge windows overlooking the patio area. Beautifully decorated with a mahogany oval table and matching chairs, it looked like a smaller scale version of a formal dining room one might see on the British television series Downton Abbey.

  I hadn’t seen the upstairs rooms yet, but I couldn’t help noticing that I had experienced a wonderful calm and tranquility ever since I’d stepped through the front door.

  A few minutes later Marta entered the dining room carrying a strawberry torte on a pedestal crystal dish. The sight of it did make me gasp out loud. She placed it at one end of the table, left the room and returned with small serving plates.

  “Oh, my goodness!” I said. “That looks like something from an exquisite French bakery.”

  “It’s even better,” David said, jumping up to assist with the servings that Marta was slicing.