Road Trip

by Jan Fields

  Charles Holden had been a kind and gentle man, but he also had a sharp wit and a wonderful sense of humor. Annie had always enjoyed hearing her grandfather comment on books he’d read or movies he’d seen. She knew she’d enjoy hearing his voice again through his notes.

  She piled the books on top of the box of cross-stitch and headed for the stairs. Alice caught the books as they started to slide. “I’ll carry these,” she said. “I never like to leave the attic empty-handed.”

  Annie and Alice clattered down the stairs, and Annie set the box of cross stitch on a table in the living room. “I’ll just take the whole thing to Mary Beth and let her decide which pieces she wants to send to the display. She has a better eye for the ones that best showcase Gram’s technique.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Alice said. She set the two books down on a small side table next to the phone. “I think I’m going to have to take my consolation muffin to go. I have another party to prep for.”

  “I’m glad to see things are going so well for you now,” Annie said. “I remember that period of time last year when things got pretty thin.”

  “This is always the time business begins to pick up,” Alice said. “But it is a little better than I expected. A lot of people in Stony Point really have been tightening their belts with the economy so shaky.”

  Annie and Alice looked questioningly at each other when they heard the crunch of tires on gravel. “Were you expecting someone?” Alice asked. “Maybe a certain mayor we both know?”

  “No, I am not expecting Ian to drop by,” Annie said firmly. She wasn’t about to admit that Ian did make surprise visits sometimes, since Alice would tease her about it. Her friends loved to imagine a romance blooming between Annie and Ian. Ian had even made a remark or two in that direction. Annie just wasn’t sure. She still pined terribly for Wayne. She appreciated Ian’s friendship more than she could say, but she’d always thought of her love for Wayne as a once-in-a-lifetime thing.

  “Oh, so this means he’s popping up unexpectedly,” Alice said, her teasing voice pulling Annie out of her rambling thoughts. “That doesn’t sound like romantic interest at all.”

  “If it is Ian,” Annie said sternly. “It must be official town business.”

  “Right.”

  Annie just shook her head, choosing not to respond anymore. She was clearly just encouraging Alice. She dusted her palms off on the back of her jeans as she headed to the door, determined not to say anything that would feed the romance gossip mill. She was so caught up in planning how best to respond to Ian’s unexpected visit, that she was taken completely by surprise when she opened the door to find a stranger on her front porch.

  Her visitor was an elderly man, about Annie’s height but considerably broader. His balding head shone slightly in the morning light, and his eyes were almost lost in the wrinkles on his face. Not that Annie had looked at his eyes much. Her attention was drawn to the huge walrus mustache that twitched as he spoke.

  “Miss Holden?” the man said, his voice deep and a little wheezy.

  “I’m Mrs. Dawson,” Annie said. “Can I help you?”

  “Are you Elizabeth Holden’s heir?” the man asked.

  “I am. She was my grandmother.”

  The man nodded solemnly. “I am Edgar Harvester. I was a good friend of Elizabeth. A very good friend. I’m sure she spoke of me.”

  Annie looked at the man skeptically. A good friend of her grandmother would not have called her “Elizabeth,” as Betsy always felt that sounded too formal. “If she did, I’m afraid I don’t remember it. How can I help you, Mr. Harvester?”

  “Your grandmother and I corresponded many times,” the man said. His twitching mustache was the only movement as he spoke. “I am certain we would have grown even closer if—” He paused and seemed genuinely upset for a moment. “The good ones always seem to pass too soon.”

  “I can agree with that,” Annie said softly, touched by the man’s clearly emotional distress even though she tried not to be. Still, she knew her grandmother could not have entertained romantic thoughts for this odd man. He was simply far too prim-sounding for her lively grandmother. “Again, how might I help you?”

  “I was hoping to have some token,” the man said, pulling himself together and speaking again in his odd formal tone. “Something to remember Elizabeth by. Perhaps a single piece of her work. I know she was a brilliant needlecraft artist.”

  “I don’t have any of my grandmother’s work that I care to sell,” Annie said. “Every piece is quite precious to my family and me. The pieces in the hands of Gram’s friends were given to them by her.”

  The old man nodded. “I see you doubt me, young lady. I can understand that. It’s wise. These are duplicitous times we live in.” He paused, clearly expecting some response from Annie.

  “As I don’t have any of my grandmother’s work to share with you,” Annie said, “is there anything else I can do for you?”

  The older man sighed. “Perhaps I could come in. Even just a few moments in Elizabeth’s home would mean a great deal to me. I’m quite sensitive to spiritual vibrations. It runs in my family. I’m sure being in her house would be like being with her—if only for a moment.”

  Annie stared at the odd little man. Spiritual vibrations? Annie certainly didn’t want this strange man in her home, but she felt a little sorry for him, and she felt her strong resolve waver. She could see how Betsy’s warm nature could be appealing to a lonely old man. Maybe Gram had exchanged mail with this man, as she had with many others, and he’d read more into her friendly nature than was meant. Annie had faced a similar situation when she first moved to Stony Point and a local sheriff’s deputy confused her friendliness for romantic interest.

  The sound of footsteps behind her signaled Alice’s approach. “I’m afraid we really need to be somewhere,” Alice said to Mr. Harvester. “And you can certainly understand that we wouldn’t be open to letting strange men in the house. But if you’re interested in seeing more of Elizabeth Holden’s work, I know she’s being honored at a convention in Texas in a couple of weeks. Also, if you go downtown, you’ll find examples of Mrs. Holden’s work in many of the public buildings.”

  The man’s face lit up with interest. “That’s very interesting. Where and when would this convention honoring Elizabeth be?”

  Alice smiled. “I don’t have the exact details. But you could ask in the needlework shop in town. The owner knows about the convention.”

  “Thank you,” the man said. “I’ll do that.” He turned and lumbered across the porch. He paused at the top of the steps to run his hand fondly down one of the porch supports, then clumped down the stairs and headed for his car.

  Annie stepped back and closed the door.

  “Phew!” Alice said. “That guy was creepy.” Then she turned and pointed at Annie. “I can’t believe you were considering letting him in the house. You’re way too nice.”

  “I felt sorry for him.” Then Annie gave Alice a wry look. “I’m not sure Mary Beth will thank you for sending him along to her.”

  Alice shrugged. “Mary Beth is a lot tougher than you are. And at least he won’t be asking to get inside her house.”

  Annie shuddered.

  “Do you want me to hang around a while?” Alice asked.

  “I thought you had a party to prep for.”

  “That is not more important than a friend in need,” Alice said firmly. “I don’t want you to be here alone if he comes back looking for a tour.”

  “Well, if he comes back, I promise not to let him in the house,” Annie said, and then she smiled. “And I’ll take Boots to the door with me.”

  Alice laughed at that. “I don’t think that the creepy old guy did anything that bad.” Boots had quite a reputation for being fiercely protective of Annie and Grey Gables. More than one person had discovered that the chubby cat had sharp claws and teeth, and she didn’t mind using them.

  After Alice left, Annie shook off any lingering nerves
and settled down for some crocheting. As always, the movement of the soft yarn through her fingers soothed her. To her surprise, the afternoon passed with no return visit from the strange man. The closest thing she’d had to a visitor was when Boots hopped up on the couch and tried to push Annie’s yarn ball off onto the floor to make room to lie down.

  Annie laughed at her own worries. She’d experienced more than a few mysteries since she’d come to Stony Point, and a few of them had turned a bit dangerous. She supposed all those tight situations had made her paranoid. “Not everyone is hiding a mystery,” she said aloud, eliciting a sleepy glance from Boots.

  The days that followed didn’t bring the man back either, though Annie did get a postcard with a generic picture of Stony Point’s Main Street on it. “Hope to see you at the convention” was written on the back in large script. The card was signed “Edgar Harvester.”

  The card reminded Annie that she needed to haul the box from the attic over to A Stitch in Time. Maybe Mary Beth would have some ideas about Gram’s odd admirer.

  Mary Beth and Kate remembered the man quickly enough. “He was disappointed that I didn’t have any of Betsy’s work to sell him,” Mary Beth said. “He spent over an hour here, combing through everything. Though he did buy one of the small Betsy Original kits. I didn’t even know I had one left; I sold so many after Betsy passed. He found the kit mixed in the bin I keep some of the slightly shop-worn items in.”

  “He did seem like a very focused person,” Annie said. “I can’t quite picture him doing cross-stitch though.”

  “I didn’t like the way he implied he had some kind of relationship with Betsy,” Kate said, frowning. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

  Annie sighed. “I suspect he wrote to Gram. You know she always answered any mail from people who enjoyed her work, and Gram was always so warm and encouraging. I suppose I can see how the poor man could read more into that than was really there.”

  “I expect you’re right,” Mary Beth said. Then she looked a bit worried. “He said he was planning to be at the convention. But I guess those things are so big and bustling—there really is no reason to imagine we’ll see him there.”

  “Except he suspects that I’m going because Gram is being honored,” Annie answered. “He knows about the award thanks to Alice’s slip of the tongue. And certainly that’s why he is going as well. It’s probably a bit optimistic to think we won’t bump into him.” Then she sighed again. “Besides, he certainly seems to think he will see us.”

  She rooted through her tote and pulled out the postcard. She handed the card over to Mary Beth and waited while the older woman read it. “Do you suppose he was being friendly or ominous?”

  Kate peeked over Mary Beth’s shoulder. “Friendly,” she said after a moment.

  “Really?” Annie asked.

  “Otherwise, the creep factor would keep me awake,” Kate admitted.

  “Thanks,” Annie said wryly. “That makes me feel loads better.”

  Mary Beth grinned at Annie. “You know, we could cram one more person into the SUV. I’d bet Ian could find someone to look after things long enough for him to ride along as your bodyguard.”

  “I believe I can guard my own body,” Annie said. She felt her face warm with a blush. “Plus,” she added quickly, “we’ll all be together most of the time. I don’t think I really need to worry about one elderly man.”

  Mary Beth patted her arm. “I’m sure you don’t. I just like to tease.” Then she asked Annie how the baby blanket was coming along, and they settled into less threatening banter about crocheting. Annie pulled out the bit of blanket she’d completed so far and both women admired it.

  “You know,” Kate said, “I know a really nice quick edging you could do that would look lovely with that pattern and yarn. This is such a simple design, and it would show off the edging well.”

  “I don’t know,” Annie said. “I was just going to do a quick binding. I have to have the blanket done by the time we leave.”

  Kate nodded. “But look at how much you’ve accomplished so far. I think you’ll have plenty of time to finish. Here, let me just show you how it looks.” She rooted under the counter for some scrap yarn Mary Beth always kept there to demonstrate techniques to customers. Then she crocheted a few inches of the edging, showing Annie the process.

  “You’re right,” Annie said. “That’s lovely. You have such a great eye for design.”

  Kate blushed a bit, hiding it by snatching up a business card from the shop so she could write out the stitch directions on the back. Annie thanked her again, and then bundled up her crochet and headed out, excited to get back to work on the project.

  Later, as she settled back down on the sofa with a lapful of warm cat and crocheting, Annie realized that going to the convention was going to be more than a chance to honor her grandmother. It would allow her to mix with lots of talented people like Kate. “Who knows what I’ll come home inspired to do?”

  Boots only snuggled down deeper, so Annie gave up on conversation and focused cheerfully on her crocheting.

  4

  The warm spring days passed quickly—almost too fast for Annie to really prepare for the double job of speaking at the ceremony and playing model for Kate. Not that preparing to model required anything of her except picking the right shoes to wear with the dress. Since Mary Beth had sent the dress off to Texas, Annie couldn’t compare potential shoes against the dress itself.

  She finally just brought a box of shoes to Mary Beth’s shop and had the women help her pick the ones that worked best. Kate pointed out a pair of pewter-color sandals with a slight heel. “This pair looks like it would match the buttons on the jacket exactly,” Kate said, “and the heel is low enough to walk in.”

  “Oh good,” Annie said. “I was hoping those would work. They don’t hurt my feet either. It’s hard to concentrate on being graceful when you’re in pain.”

  Kate laughed. “I would be too busy concentrating on not fainting to worry about grace.”

  “I think I can avoid fainting,” Annie said, “and with these shoes, maybe I can avoid tripping, stumbling, or totally falling on my face.”

  Over the course of the last two weeks, Annie had made nearly a dozen calls to Texas. She chatted with Dorothy Kohler, one of her dear friends from Texas, about the convention. As Annie expected, Dorothy was going to be there. Annie told her that she’d be bringing a baby blanket for the missionary closet and asked if she could give it to her at the convention.

  “Of course! You know, I told everyone that you wouldn’t take off and forget us,” Dorothy said. “We’ve always been able to count on you. I was over to your house just last week to do a little sprucing up for a family coming in from Africa.”

  Annie smiled. She liked thinking about the home she’d shared with Wayne sheltering weary missionary families. “It’s great knowing that I have such good church friends in Brookfield. That helped me make the decision about my house,” Annie said.

  Annie told Dorothy about the plan to honor Betsy at the convention. “Oh, how exciting!” Dorothy said. “I never met your grandmother but I feel like I have since you talked about her so much. You know I’ll have to come hear your speech. I’ll tell Ida Mae and Lily too. They’re both in the CGOA, as you’ll remember. Lily wasn’t going to go to this convention, but I know she’ll want to be there for this!”

  “I’ll be glad to have such good friends in the audience,” Annie told her.

  “And we’ll be glad to have a chance to see you again,” Dorothy said. “But we should make a plan to get together before that last day. You’ll be amazed at how many people attend these events. If you don’t have a plan, it can be hard to connect.”

  “But I don’t really know the hotel at all,” Annie said. “So I’m not sure where we should plan to meet.”

  “Perhaps the restaurant?” Dorothy asked. “Or I suppose we could be high tech and just call one another. I finally broke down and got a cellphone. My
grandchildren think I’m very ‘with it’ now.”

  Annie smiled; she was fairly certain that no one said “with it” anymore, but she knew what Dorothy meant. Sometimes Annie felt like LeeAnn’s twins were growing up in a totally different world than the one Annie had. Joanna and John were just now getting old enough to think of Annie as terribly old-fashioned.

  Annie and Dorothy chatted a bit longer about small things, and Annie hung up feeling as warm and happy as if she’d just been hugged.

  She also called LeeAnn several times to chat about things Annie might mention in the speech. On the last call, LeeAnn had good news. “I talked to Herb and the twins,” LeeAnn said, “and we’re all coming to hear your speech and see the display of Gram’s work. I called, and the convention coordinators said it would be OK for us to attend just that ceremony, even though we aren’t signed up for the actual convention. The twins are incredibly excited.”

  “You got Herb to take time off from work?” Annie was truly surprised. Herb was one of the most driven workers she’d ever seen. She worried about it. In fact, he reminded her so much of Wayne that way.

  “I know, what a shock—right?” LeeAnn said. “But he really is trying to work on his priorities. You know, after Dad died, I tried to talk Herb out of working so hard.” LeeAnn’s voice grew a little husky with emotion as she continued. “I told him I wanted him around to be Grandpa for the twins’ kids. Then last year, well, one of his co-workers had a heart attack. The man wasn’t that much older than Herb. I think it’s starting to get through.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Annie said. “And I’ll be delighted to see you all.”

  “I’m planning to drive over to catch you for lunch too,” LeeAnn said. “On Friday I should have time to get there, eat and get back before the kids get off the bus after school.”