by Terri DuLong
There was a sense of eagerness about her along with a hint of desperation.
“So you live here with your family?” I questioned.
“My mother and my younger sister. We’re staying at the Low-Key Motel. For now.”
A family of three living at a motel? I knew there was more to her story, but I didn’t want to keep prying.
“Gosh,” I said, letting out a deep sigh. “I wish I could help you, but I’m not in a position to hire anybody just yet. Have you tried the yarn shop down the street?”
She shook her head.
“Well, I honestly don’t know if they need any help. But Miss Dora and Chloe own the shop. You might want to pop in there and check.”
A smile crossed her face along with a hopeful expression. “Gee, thanks. I appreciate that. Can I tell them that you sent me?”
I laughed. “Sure. You can tell them you stopped by here and I don’t have any work right now.”
“Thanks again,” she said, and turned to go.
“Oh, hey, Paula. Wait a sec. You said you have a younger sister?” I went behind the counter and slipped on a plastic glove as I removed some chocolates from the case to fill a small box. “Here,” I said, passing it to her. “On the house, and welcome to the island. I bet your sister might like some chocolate.”
“Really?” she said as her hand slowly reached across the counter. “Thank you. That’s really nice of you.”
“And check back with me now and then. I might eventually end up needing some part-time help.”
“I will. Thanks again.”
I watched her walk out the door and felt a stab of sadness. Here I was trying to search for answers, but this young girl seemed to be looking for survival.
Shortly before five I locked up the shop and headed down the street to Yarning Together. Flora had given me a pattern the night before for a pullover sweater, and after I got home I discovered that I’d misplaced my number eight needles. I was also curious if Paula had stopped by there to see about work.
“Hey,” Chloe said, turning from the cubbyhole where she was arranging scrumptious colors of yarn in rainbow shades. “Done for the day?”
“Yup, and I need a pair of size eight needles.”
“Hi, Berkley,” Dora said, coming out of the back room. “Size eight, huh? Right here.” She pointed to the revolving stand. “Bamboo? Circular or straight? Take your pick.”
“Thanks.” I removed a pair of the Addy circular needles. “I like these. I’m not sure you actually knit faster with them, but that’s what the label says.”
Dora laughed as she rang up the sale. “Guess it’s what you get used to.”
“Did you have a girl stop by here today looking for work?” I asked as I passed her the cash.
“We did,” Dora told me. “That’s a sad story.”
I should have known that somebody in town would have the information. I was quickly learning that news spread fast in small towns. “She stopped by my shop, but unfortunately I don’t have any work to give her.”
Dora passed me the bag and nodded. “We’re going to see what we can do for her. I told her to give me a few days and maybe I can come up with some odd jobs. She lives with her mother and sister out at the Low-Key on Twenty-four. They came here from the Orlando area. Flora works at the Food Pantry, and she met the mother there a couple weeks ago when they first came here. The mother’s divorced, but seems she had a pretty good job for a company in Orlando. They owned their own house, but then the company downsized, she lost her job, the ex-husband took off for parts unknown, and then the bank foreclosed on the house.”
“How did she end up here? Does she have family here?”
“No,” Chloe said. “Flora told me that she’s originally from Chicago, but her parents are both gone and there’s nobody to help them. She’d been here a few times with her husband when they first got married and knew she could keep their travel trailer somewhere on the island and it wouldn’t be too expensive.”
“Right,” Dora said. “They were staying in a motel in Orlando, but that got way too pricey for them. It was tough on the kids too, going to school from a motel room. So they drove the travel trailer here, and I think Carol and Pete are giving them a weekly break at the RV space.”
I shook my head. “So the three of them are living in a small travel trailer? No wonder the older girl is looking for work. I guess she’s not in school?”
“No, she quit,” Chloe said. “Her mother begged her not to, but she’s almost seventeen and she said she wanted to help with the finances and get a job instead.”
“What a shame. Now I feel even worse that I had nothing for her.”
“Well, I’m going to speak to Monica,” Dora said. “She just mentioned the other day that with the triplets getting bigger she could really use a pair of extra hands and might consider hiring a babysitter. Actually, she called it a nanny. In my day, they were babysitters.”
I laughed. “Oh, that would be great. Paula struck me as a responsible girl, and if she has a younger sister, she’s used to kids.”
“Right. So hopefully this will work out for her. Well, time to close up, Chloe,” Dora said, walking to the door to flip the sign.
Chloe glanced at her watch. “Yeah, it’s almost five-thirty. Hey, Berkley, I’m heading over to the Pickled Pelican to grab some dinner. Wanna join me?”
I had planned to have some leftover lasagna, but the escargot and a salad that I knew was on the restaurant menu tempted me. “I think I will. Sounds good.”
“Dora?” Chloe questioned. “Why don’t you join us?”
“Oh, thanks, but no. I have to get Oliver home for his dinner.”
At the mention of his name, the dog lifted his head and looked at Dora questioningly.
“Yes, Oliver. You put in a good day at work. Time to go home and rest. Not that you don’t get plenty of resting here all day.”
Chloe and I laughed as we left the shop and headed to Dock Street.
“That sure beat leftover lasagna,” I said when we finished dinner.
“My chicken was excellent too.” Chloe took a sip of wine and glanced across the railing over to Atsena Otie. “Such a pretty night to eat outside.”
My eyes followed a flock of pelicans as they swooped to the water, catching their own dinner.
“Yup. And I never get tired of looking at the scenery here.” I let out a deep sigh. “I can understand why my mother came here,” I said before I even knew what was coming out of my mouth.
I saw the look of surprise that covered Chloe’s face across the table. “What? Your mother came here? So you have been here before?”
I shook my head and took a sip of my cabernet. “No. I was never in Cedar Key until last year. That was my first trip here.” I avoided looking at Chloe as I rolled my paper napkin in a ball. “Actually, I wasn’t quite honest with you when I met you at the coffee café.” When she remained silent, I went on. “It’s a long story, but my mother came here back in 1972. For the summer.”
“Oh,” Chloe said. “Without you?”
I nodded. “Right. Without me. I stayed with my grandmother in Salem.”
“Did she come here for work?”
“I have no clue why she came here,” I said and then proceeded to fill Chloe in on my story.
“Wow. So both your mother and grandmother would never tell you why she came here? It all sounds so mysterious. I mean, gee, there had to be a reason, and it doesn’t make sense that even when you got older they refused to talk about it.”
“Exactly. None of it ever made sense to me.”
“And the only way you finally found out exactly where she went was from the postcards she sent to your grandmother? That’s amazing.”
“Yup. If I hadn’t found those postcards after my mother died, I never would have known that this is where she came that summer.”
“Why was it such a secret, I wonder. Do you have any idea why she would have come here without you?”
I laug
hed. “Yeah, a million ideas but no answers. I wondered if maybe she was pregnant—as unlikely as that scenario was. I thought maybe she just didn’t want to raise a kid anymore, came here, thought better of it, and then went back to Salem. I also wondered if maybe she was ill, but when I got here last year and saw there were no hospitals or even a doctor on the island, I knew that couldn’t have been why she came.”
“How about the postcards? No hints there as to why she ended up here?”
“Nope. None. Just short messages from my grandmother telling her that I was doing okay. And my mother only wrote back updates on the weather here or that she was fine. That’s pretty much it.”
“So you’re really here to try and find some answers.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Sometimes I think I don’t even have a right to know. That it was my mother’s life, not mine. They used to tell me that too, my mother and grandmother. But as I got older, I realized that her leaving me for an entire summer had affected me in many ways.”
Chloe reached across the table and patted my hand. “I can understand that. Well, then, we’ll see what we can find out. There’s enough locals still here that lived on Cedar Key the summer that your mother was here. So we need to start talking to them.”
I squeezed Chloe’s hand as I felt the moisture in my eyes. She had said we. For the first time I was going to have some assistance trying to put the pieces together.
9
When Saxton walked into my shop the following morning, I was surprised again at the reaction I had when I saw him. I felt fluttery and even a bit giddy. Yes, like a teenager with her first crush. I firmly believe that each of us gives off a certain amount of energy when we encounter particular people. And I was beginning to feel that when my energy combined with Saxton’s the level was pretty high.
“Hey, good morning,” I said, feeling a huge smile cross my face.
“And a good morning to you as well,” he said as that dimple in his chin deepened.
“So what can I do for you?” I asked, and then realized what a dumb question that was. Obviously, he was here for his usual ration of chocolate.
“Well, I’d like my chocolate,” he said, proving me right. And then he went on to say, “But I was . . . wondering . . . ah . . . if you had any plans for this evening?”
Plans? Meaning a date type of plans?
All of a sudden my throat felt like sandpaper. I swallowed and shook my head. “No. No plans for tonight.”
Saxton’s smile increased. “Oh, good. Well . . . I was wondering if maybe you’d like to join me for dinner. At my place.”
At his place? Oh, yeah, this was definitely a date.
“You cook?” was all I could think of to say.
His deep laughter filled the shop. “Let’s just say, I try. I thought I’d grill some steaks and we could eat out on the deck.”
“That sounds great,” I said, and then added, “But I don’t know where you live.” I felt flustered in addition to the fact that everything I said seemed to sound stupid.
Saxton didn’t seem to be affected by my lack of intelligent sentences. “The pink house over on First Street.”
Oh, wow! I loved that house. I’d passed it so many times since moving to the island and always wondered who lived in that gorgeous house overlooking the water.
“Great. I know exactly which house it is.”
“Okay. Well, why don’t we say seven? That’ll give you a bit of time after you close the shop.”
“Sounds good.”
We stood there for a few seconds smiling at each other until it hit me the man had also come for his chocolate.
“Right,” I said, reaching for a box and proceeding to fill it with his usual request.
I had chosen to wear a pair of black cropped pants with a white cotton sweater that I’d recently finished knitting. Gold sandals completed my outfit, and I leaned closer to the mirror to apply some mascara to my lashes. Adding a bit of blush and lipstick, I smiled at my reflection. My hair was a simple style, but I liked it, and I also liked the overall appearance I saw looking back at me. It had been a while since I’d had a bona fide date and taken extra time with clothes and makeup.
I walked over to the window and stroked the top of Sigmund’s head. “Be a good boy,” I told him before walking into the kitchen to get the almond cake I’d baked to bring for dessert.
On the short walk to Saxton’s house I found myself excited at the prospect of spending the evening with a man who appealed to me. It had been three years since I ended the relationship with Rodney, and although I’d had other offers for dates I preferred being alone. But there was something about Saxton that made me think being with the right person could be a very enjoyable thing.
I saw the pale pink house farther down the street and smiled. Not a small structure, but not too large for one person. I could understand why this house had appealed to him. Referred to as a stilt house, it was positioned above a cement pad, and stairs to the side led up to a deck that had an unobstructed view of the water all the way to the horizon.
As I began climbing the stairs I heard the soft strains of a piece of classical music coming from above. When I reached the top, I paused and allowed myself to breathe in the fresh salt air as my gaze took in the Big Dock across the water to my left and the large expanse of water in front of me.
“Hey, you’re here,” I heard Saxton say, and swung around to see him coming through French doors holding a bottle of wine and two wineglasses.
“Yes, and I was just taking in this gorgeous view that you have. It’s amazing.”
“Thanks. Yeah, I enjoy it a lot,” he said, glancing at the dish in my hand.
“Oh, I made an almond cake. I thought it might be nice for dessert.”
Saxton placed the wine and glasses on the patio table. “Great. Come on in. We’ll put it in the kitchen and I can show you around.”
I followed him through the French doors into an open area that consisted of combined family room, dining area, and kitchen. All of it surrounded by glass. Another set of French doors led out to the deck from the kitchen. Skylights above and windows looking out the side and front of the house, with the sight of water everywhere, made me feel like I was on a boat.
“Oh! This really is amazing,” I said, placing my cake on the counter that separated the kitchen from the family room.
Lola came running from another part of the house, barking and tail wagging, to greet me.
“Hey, there, girl,” I said, bending down to give her a pat. “You sure have a nice home.”
Saxton laughed. “Yeah, we both like it. It’s comfortable and perfect for us.”
That was when I noticed the chintz sofa and two cushy chairs, all positioned perfectly to take advantage of the water view. Newspapers were flung at the end of the sofa, and a stack of magazines on an end table looked ready to topple over. Three pairs of shoes lay abandoned by the front door, indicating they had been removed, tossed off, and left there.
“So this is the family room,” Saxton said, gesturing with his hand. “And as you can see, I have a small dining area off the kitchen.”
I followed him to the right and saw a round oak table filled with assorted papers, envelopes, ink pens and . . . two plants that had long ago stopped giving off oxygen.
Just as I wondered where Saxton found the space to actually have a meal at the table, he said, “You’ll see I’m a bit untidy, but I have a cleaning girl that comes in weekly to dust, vacuum, and that kind of stuff.”
I wondered how the poor girl could get to the surface in order to clean, but remained silent.
“And here’s the kitchen,” he said, waving an arm to the right.
No doubt that it was a designer kitchen with stainless steel fridge and stove surrounded by gorgeous oak cabinets, but the piled-up bags of chips, cookies, and more envelopes and papers detracted from the beauty of it.
I followed him to the end of the hallway, where he led me into a large room on the right overlooking the
water. A cherrywood L-shaped computer station dominated the space in front of the large windows, with file cabinets and bookcases flanking the other three walls. Again, books, papers, and magazines were piled haphazardly on all of the available space.
“Very nice,” I said quietly. And it was. The entire house was gorgeous, and it certainly wasn’t dirty. It was just . . . cluttered. Cluttered and a disorganized mess.
Walking back to the hallway, I followed Saxton into a large master bedroom. Yes, the bed was made, but a couple of shirts had been tossed across the navy blue comforter and both night tables were filled with ink pens, pads of paper, and various other items. The two bureaus were the same, as well as the desk in the corner. In the other corner was Lola’s bed, where she was now curled up.
I wasn’t a neat freak. Really, I wasn’t, but the thought of living in such chaos made me shudder. I itched to grab some plastic garbage bags, sweep through the house, and discard all of the clutter.
But instead I forced a smile and said, “It’s such a nice house,” as I thought, and it’s such a shame it isn’t more organized.
“I’m glad you like it,” Saxton said, totally oblivious to my honest reaction. “Let’s go on the deck and have some wine before dinner.”
Good idea. At least the patio table had some room to put wineglasses and plates.
I watched Saxton uncork the bottle of cabernet and fill two glasses, and I found myself noticing that although some of it had dribbled onto the table he made no effort to wipe it up. Was I being overly picky? Probably. But gee whiz, it really didn’t take a lot of effort to be organized and neat.
Saxton passed a glass to me and touched the rim with his. “Here’s to you finding your answers,” he said.
I looked up and focused on his handsome face. The clutter I’d observed a few minutes before was forgotten. “Thank you. Cheers.”
He pulled up a chair across from me and smiled. “Did you have a busy day at the shop?”
I took a sip of wine and nodded. “Yeah, it was pretty steady. Didn’t you go fishing with Doyle again this morning? How’d that go?”