Postcards from Cedar Key

by Terri DuLong

  When I finished, Doyle remained silent for a few moments. “I see. And how do you feel about that?”

  “You mean about her coming here and leaving me behind?”

  “I mean about the fact that she never told you why she came here.”

  I shrugged. “It was certainly her right to never mention the reason. I do understand that. But none of it ever made sense to me.”

  “And you’re trying to make sense of it all these years later?”

  “I suppose so,” I said, but had the distinct feeling that Doyle Summers considered me a snoop. “Wouldn’t you want to know if it were you? Sometimes the not knowing can build resentment.” I heard the defensive tone in my voice.

  He nodded. “Very true. I’m not judging you. I was just curious.”

  Chloe effectively changed the subject by asking more questions about Atsena Otie, but Doyle had left me wondering if perhaps I should let well enough alone.

  By the time he’d steered his boat back to the marina later that afternoon, my doubts had disappeared. If at all possible, I was going to find out what I could about my mother and the reason she had fled to Cedar Key. I strongly felt that if I was meant to know, the information would be revealed. And for now—all I could do was let go of it.

  It had been a great day, spent in the company of people I liked. But the highlight of the day was when we returned to the marina and Saxton invited me for dinner on Friday evening.

  “I’ll pick you up about seven,” he said. “We’ll go to the Black Dog first for a glass of wine and then walk over to the Island Room. Would that be okay?”

  Okay? That would be more than okay. “Perfect,” I said, as I climbed into the golf cart beside Chloe.

  13

  By the time that Arts Festival weekend arrived the following month, the women in the knitting group had managed to make fifty scarves to sell at our vendor’s table—and every single scarf sold, which gave us an even one thousand dollars to present to Leigh Sallenger and her two daughters, Paula and Paige.

  Since Monica employed Paula, it was decided that she would be the one to invite them to the yarn shop on Thursday evening. Monica only told them that the knitting group had a surprise for them.

  All of us were assembled when Leigh arrived with her two daughters. The look of surprise on her face with the number of women gathered told us that she had no idea what was going on.

  “Come in, come in.” Dora greeted them at the door with a smile and then went around the room introducing us.

  “First of all,” Dora said, “we want to give you an official welcome to Cedar Key. We’re aware of your situation and know it must be difficult for you financially. Therefore, we took it upon ourselves to have a little fund-raiser for you. All of us knitted scarves that we sold during Arts Festival weekend.”

  The expression on Leigh’s face showed confusion.

  “Right,” Chloe said, extending an envelope to Leigh. “And here’s a check for the amount of the sales. We hope it will help you a bit with living expenses.”

  Leigh remained silent as she reached for the envelope, opened it, saw the check, and burst into tears.

  Paula and Paige peered over their mother’s shoulder and looked at us with the same confused expression their mother had displayed.

  Dora put an arm around Leigh’s shoulders as Chloe passed her a tissue.

  “I’m overwhelmed,” Leigh said, attempting to compose herself. “I think this is the nicest thing that anybody has ever done for me.” She blew her nose and gave a weak smile. “But . . . you don’t even really know me. Why would you do such a kind thing?”

  Dora laughed. “Well, that’s what we do, I guess. We try to take care of those that have less. Even though we don’t know you very well, we knew you could use some help. It isn’t much, but we do hope it’ll help a little.”

  “Oh, my goodness. You have no idea how much this will come in handy and how much I appreciate it. I begged Paula not to leave school during her senior year, but she insisted.” Leigh reached for her daughter’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Because of my divorce, I’m afraid both girls have suffered, but we’re determined to make a new life for ourselves.”

  “And from the looks of it, you will,” Chloe said. “Divorce is never easy and sometimes it’s more difficult for some. But I heard you now have a job waitressing at the Pickled Pelican.”

  Leigh nodded. “Yes, I was very grateful for that and it certainly helps. Paula will be starting classes soon to get her GED, and if things go well, maybe she’ll be able to attend Santa Fe Community College to receive a degree.”

  “Oh, that’s great,” I said. “Do you know what you might want to major in?”

  Paula gave us a shy smile. “Well . . . I’m thinking about childhood education. My mother would like to . . .” She shot a glance toward Leigh as if looking for permission to share some news, and I saw Leigh nod. “She’d like to maybe open a day care center here on the island.”

  “Oh, that would be wonderful,” Monica said. “Sign me up. With triplets, I’ll be your first customer.”

  The room broke into laughter.

  “I’m not sure it will happen, but that’s my goal. It’s something that I know I’d enjoy doing and hopefully something that would be beneficial for the town. And Paula would be my assistant.”

  “I do believe that type of service would be very beneficial for many young couples with children. With the economy down, I know of many young mothers that would love to supplement the family income, but they have nobody to care for their children.” Dora patted Leigh on the back. “So I say good for you, and if there’s anything we can do to help make this happen for you, just let us know.”

  “Thank you so much,” Leigh said, tears glistening in her eyes as she held up the check. “And thank you so much for this. I hope you know how much we appreciate it.”

  Dora nodded and smiled. “Okay, and now it’s time to socialize. Help yourself, ladies,” she said, pointing to the table behind her that held assorted cakes, cookies, tea, and coffee.

  After getting one of Dora’s lemon squares and coffee, I seated myself beside Leigh on the sofa as the room erupted into chatter.

  “You have two great daughters. Paula had come to my chocolate shop looking for work, and I felt bad that I had none to offer her.”

  “Oh, you’re the owner of the chocolate shop. Thank you so much for the chocolate you sent home for Paige. She really enjoyed that treat. And yes, my girls are great. I don’t know what I’d do without them. As tough as it’s been, I’m convinced I made the right decision getting away from my ex.”

  I thought of my own mother and the decision she’d made not to marry my father. I couldn’t help but wonder once again what her reasons may have been.

  “Physical abuse on a spouse is the one thing I knew I could never tolerate in a marriage,” Leigh said. “I knew that abuse could easily be directed at the girls. My only option was to leave and file for divorce.”

  I still marveled at the difficult decisions women faced, and somehow most of them had the strength to make the right decision and go forward.

  I reached over to pat her hand. “And you certainly did the right thing,” I assured her.

  Walking home from the yarn shop, I let out a deep sigh. The evening had gone well, and it had been nice getting to know Leigh Sallenger and her two daughters. There was also a feeling of satisfaction in being able to give back.

  I was greeted by Sigmund when I entered my apartment.

  “Hey there, fella.” I leaned over to scoop him up in my arms. “You’re such a handsome boy.”

  I placed Sigmund on the sofa and walked into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. Walking back into the living room, I glanced at the urn resting on the credenza and proceeded to open the rolltop desk, removing the tin box containing the postcards.

  Settling myself on the sofa, I began sifting through them. Pictures of Dock Street were on the front of some, looking much the same
as Dock Street still looks over forty years later. I flipped one over. From my grandmother to my mother. Addressed to:

  JW PO Box 456 Cedar Key, Florida.

  Berkley is fine and I hope you are the same.

  Tourists to the shop are keeping me busy this summer.

  We both miss you. Much love.

  All in all, a pretty generic message. Most of the others contained similar sentences. None of them contained a salutation or a signature. But it was my grandmother’s handwriting, and there was no doubt the exchanges were from her.

  Had I missed my mother? I vaguely recalled that yes, I had. Blurred memories returned of me questioning my grandmother as to where she was. That answer never came. Instead I was told, “She’ll be back soon.” But soon had stretched out to include an entire summer without my mother, and it was that sense of aching and loneliness that still gnawed at me.

  I picked up another postcard sent from my mother.

  Dear Mom, I’m doing okay. As well as can be expected.

  People are kind to me. Job going well.

  Much love to both of you. “J”

  The message was like a secret code of sorts. For somebody without further information, it was difficult to decipher its actual meaning, but reading it this time, two things jumped out at me: As well as can be expected? What did that mean? What had happened to cause her to indicate all had not been well? And I noticed that she did actually mention a job. So she was working while living on Cedar Key. But where? For whom?

  I let out a deep sigh and took another sip of water. Was I crazy for thinking that I’d ever solve my mother’s puzzle? Probably. But a deep, gut feeling told me to keep going. To keep trying as much as I could to find answers, while at the same time not understanding exactly what those answers might do for me.

  As I was replacing the postcards the phone rang, and I felt a smile cross my face when I heard Saxton’s voice.

  “Hey, Berkley. Hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  “Not at all. What’s up?”

  “Well . . . I wanted to share something with you. I took a chance this evening. I’ve written to my daughter.”

  I heard the uncertainty in his tone. “I think that’s a good thing,” I told him. “You found her address?”

  “Not exactly. I’m sending it addressed to Resa but at the address I have for Muriel, and I’m hoping she’ll get the letter to our daughter.”

  As silly as it sounds, a sliver of jealousy coursed through me. It was one thing to contact his daughter. But did he have to use his ex-wife as the vehicle to make that happen?

  Shoving aside the momentary jealousy, I said, “I think that’s great, Saxton, and I really hope you’ll get a friendly answer from Resa in return.”

  “Me too. Hey, any chance you could join me for dinner tomorrow evening? I’m craving some of those great burritos at the Blue Dessert.”

  “Oh, gee. Tomorrow evening is the surprise going-away party for Grace at the yarn shop. I’m sorry.”

  I was positive I heard disappointment when he said, “I understand,” as a thought came into my head.

  “Hey, I have an idea. I’ve been wanting to have a little thank-you dinner for you and Doyle taking us out on his boat. How about if you ask him if he’s free next Friday and I’ll ask Chloe. Nothing fancy. But it might be fun.”

  His voice now had a definite sound of happiness. “Great idea. I’ll get with Doyle tomorrow and give you a call after I speak with him.”

  As I prepared for bed with my usual ritual, I felt a smile cross my face. For the first time since my mother had left me that summer, I felt that perhaps even if I never discovered her secrets, there might be another reason why I was meant to also make my way to this island.

  14

  The month of May arrived on Cedar Key, touching the senses of both sight and smell. Brightly colored flowers and trees were in bloom with their sweet fragrance mingling with that of clams at low tide. Something that the locals referred to as Cedar Key perfume. More boats could be seen offshore. Early mornings and late evenings the sound of air boats pierced the otherwise quiet of the island.

  After only two months in Cedar Key, I was beginning to truly feel I was home. For the first time in my life I had a sense of belonging. Of being precisely where I was supposed to be—of being in my element.

  Many things accounted for this. The warmth and welcome that the community displayed toward me. The success of both my chocolate shop and my yarn business. But most of all, it was the interest and fondness that Saxton showed to me. Being with him felt right. It was easy, which was something I hadn’t always felt in previous relationships. With Saxton, I didn’t feel like I had to work at making it work. It just did. That saying just be came into my mind a lot, making me realize that probably for the first time, I could just be myself—and that was okay.

  I headed down Second Street on my way to the post office filled with a feeling of satisfaction. That sense of contentment evaporated when I saw Raylene Samuels walking toward me.

  “You’re open today, right?” she demanded.

  “I’m afraid not. Closed on Mondays and Tuesdays. I’ll be open tomorrow, Raylene.”

  Fully expecting a torrent of verbal abuse, I was more than surprised when I only got a sniff and a mild retort.

  “Oh,” she said. “Well, yes, I suppose you must have time off. Right then. I’ll be looking for my chocolate bright and early tomorrow morning.” And with that, she walked off.

  I felt my eyebrows rise as I shook my head and smiled. “Maybe there’s hope for her yet,” I said out loud.

  It was known to all who resided on Cedar Key that the post office was the meeting place every morning about ten, and this morning was no exception. I weaved my way inside, nodding and saying hellos, as I made my way to my letter box. When I unlocked it, I was pleased to find a postcard from Grace and Lucas. The Eiffel Tower adorned the front of it. Gathering the rest of my mail, I made my way back down Second Street to the coffee café.

  “Hey, there,” Suellen greeted me. “Your usual?”

  “That would be great,” I told her, settling down at one of the tables as I proceeded to sift through my mail. The postcard from Paris told me Grace and Lucas had arrived in the City of Light and were having a great time settling in for the summer.

  Suellen placed my latte in front of me and I passed her the postcard. “Oh, how nice,” she said. “Grace called me yesterday morning. I miss her already, but I’m so glad they went.”

  I nodded. “I know. Me too. It must be great to be there with the love of your life.”

  Suellen laughed. “I wouldn’t know.”

  “Aren’t you dating somebody that lives in Tampa?”

  “Oh, Mitchell? Yeah, we’ve been dating for a while now, but with him down there and me up here, it’s a bit of a transient relationship. He owns a dog grooming business in the Tampa area, so that makes it difficult for him to get away a lot. And I have my job here.” Suellen shrugged. “Hey, I’m happy the way things are. It works for me.”

  “What works for you?”

  I turned around to see Chloe joining us at the table.

  “Good morning,” I said. “Have a seat.”

  “Thanks. What are you two talking about?” she asked, sitting across from me.

  “My love life,” Suellen said. “I was telling Berkley that whatever it is that I have with Mitchell, it works for me.”

  Chloe laughed. “Yeah, I know what you’re saying. Same with me and Cameron. He’s a nice guy, he really is, and I enjoy the time we spend together, but . . .”

  “But?” I questioned.

  Chloe flipped a strand of hair behind her ear. “But I’m perfectly happy with the way things are. A companion for dinners or events, but nothing too involved.”

  I nodded. Despite the fact that I fully agreed with them, I also wondered—is that what I wanted with Saxton? Not much more than a companion?

  “Can you get me a regular coffee?” Chloe said. “I haven’t had
my quota this morning.”

  Suellen laughed. “Coming right up.”

  “So what are your plans for the rest of the day?” Chloe questioned.

  “Oh, the usual. Cleaning my apartment, cleaning the shop. Doing some spinning. Probably some knitting. Oh, I almost forgot. I’m having a little dinner at my place this Friday to thank Doyle and Saxton for taking us out on the boat. I hope you’ll be able to make it.”

  “Friday evening? Sure. Count me in. Doyle’s a nice guy, isn’t he? You’d think some female would have snagged him by now. How old is he, do you know?”

  I laughed. “He’s very personable. I’d say he’s probably early seventies. Why? Do you have your eye on him?”

  Now it was Chloe’s turn to laugh as she shook her head. “No, no. Not me. I’m happy keeping company with Cameron. I’m just surprised Doyle doesn’t have a lady friend in his life.”

  “Well, Saxton says that everybody has a story, so I’m sure that Doyle does too.”

  Chloe smiled. “Yup, that sounds like the author in Saxton. Speaking of which, have you had a chance to read any of his books yet? They’re really good.”

  “I read the first one and loved it, and actually I’m going next door shortly to get his second one.”

  After finishing coffee and conversation with Chloe, I wandered into the bookshop and saw Corabeth behind the counter.

  She looked up and smiled. “Good morning, Berkley. Looking for anything in particular?”

  “Yeah, Saxton’s second novel.”

  Walking over to one of the bookcases, she pointed. “They’re all right here.”

  “Thanks. How do you like running the bookshop?”

  Corabeth’s face lit up. “Oh! I just love it. You know, there’s just something about a small bookshop that I’ve loved since I was a young girl.”