by Terri DuLong
“But?” I questioned.
“I just got a call from Home Depot. They haven’t gotten it in yet, and according to the distributor it looks like it’ll be another week.”
“Oh.” I felt my heart sink. “So will this put us behind quite a bit?”
Worth shook his head. “Not really. It shouldn’t. I’ll probably have it by next Wednesday, and in the meantime I can do some more sanding of the walls and getting everything ready for painting. Speaking of which, have you decided on a color yet?”
“No. I thought I’d go to Home Depot myself and see what I might like. I also want to look at a border print for the top of the wall. Geez, now that I think about it, I guess I’d better get moving. I also need to choose some furniture and go through the catalogs to order my stock.”
“I can’t help you with the stock, but I’d be more than happy to go into Gainesville with you to choose paint and paper.”
“Oh, that would be great.” Not to mention, it would also be fun, I thought.
“I have an idea. Do you think you could be free on Saturday, or will you be working?”
“I’m off this Saturday.”
“Good. I’ll pick you up about eleven. We’ll go to Gainesville, do the shopping, and then go to my place for a late lunch. How’s that sound?”
Perfectly divine. “Like fun. Okay, it’s a plan.”
I stopped at the chocolate shop on the way home to replenish the supply for me and my mother.
“Hey, Berkley,” I said, and my gaze was caught by three beautiful iridescent dragonflies hanging from a rack on a table filled with crystals and other gems. “Oh, gosh. That’s pretty.”
“I know. They’re done by a local artist and they’re for sale.”
I walked over to get a closer look. They really were gorgeous. I lifted a finger to touch one, and although there was no wind in the shop, a chill went through me, causing a shiver.
“What is it about dragonflies?” I asked.
A smile crossed Berkley’s face. “What do you mean?”
I removed a turquoise one from the rack and held it in the palm of my hand. “Aren’t they supposed to mean something?”
Berkley came to stand beside me and nodded. “Yes, dragonflies are very special creatures that have a lot to teach us. They rarely make it to old age, so they understand that time is short and they live life as though today may be their last.”
I ran my finger along the delicate wing. “Kind of like Seize the day?”
“Exactly. They also symbolize renewal and a sense of self that comes with maturity. So they represent change.”
“Interesting.” I passed her the one I was holding. “I’ll take it. It’ll look nice hanging on the patio. And also I’d like a half pound of your signature Cedar Key clam chocolates and a half pound of the truffles.”
We chatted as Berkley boxed my order.
“Resa seems very nice,” I told her. “I hope she’ll join us tomorrow evening.”
“Oh, I’m sure she will. She’s anxious to meet all the locals.”
“So she and Saxton have a good father-daughter relationship now, huh?”
“Very much so, and I’m thrilled because I know how much it meant to him.”
“That’s great,” I said as I wondered again about Fiona and Andrew. “Thanks.” I reached for the bag, paid for my purchases and headed home.
My mother and I were enjoying our after-dinner coffee on the patio, each lost in her own thoughts. I watched the sky turning from a light pink to a darker crimson with streaks of blue. Both sunrise and sunset had always seemed like magical times to me. Sunrise held such promise for the day ahead, and sunset allowed one to contemplate how well the day had been lived. I glanced over at the dragonfly that now hung from a hook on the post in the yard. It swayed gently in the breeze off the water. What was it Berkley had said? Dragonflies represent change and renewal. In the almost eight months since Andrew had died, I was certainly experiencing change.
“I have something to tell you,” I said. “Actually, I’m not supposed to mention it, but I know you won’t say anything.”
I glanced over as my mother shifted in her chair to better face me.
“What is it?”
“Well, when Victoria called me the other day . . . she said she’s definitely going to be selling Maybelle’s house. But she didn’t want the word out just yet.”
“I see,” was all that my mother said.
“Yeah, she said what with Sam and her business up north, she really wouldn’t get the chance to come down here much and use it.”
“I suppose that makes sense.”
I nodded and remained silent for a few minutes, trying to form the words in my head.
“And so,” I said, “I told her to please not put it on the market or list it with a Realtor until . . . she offered it to me first.”
“You?” I heard the surprise in my mother’s voice.
“Yeah. I don’t know. I can’t really explain it, because up until I said that to Victoria, I hadn’t really been thinking about buying Maybelle’s house.”
My mother adjusted her position in the chair but remained quiet.
“What do you think?” I asked. “I haven’t even been in that house since I was in my teens. You used to go visit Maybelle. Do you think it would be a good house for me?”
“I’m not certain.”
She paused for a moment, causing me to think she was definitely not in favor of my purchasing the house, which was odd because my mother was always so open-minded, allowing me to come to my own decisions.
“You think it might be a bad idea?” I asked. “Is it just that particular house or any house in general?”
She reached over to pat my hand and shook her head. “No, no. I didn’t mean to indicate that you shouldn’t purchase that house if you want to. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. I guess I was just surprised. You’ll need to go look at it when Victoria is here for the memorial.”
“I will,” I said. “I think I will.” But I was certain I still detected uneasiness in my mother.
16
Who knew that shopping in Home Depot could be so much fun? At least with Worth it was. He joked with me about being as insistent on the name of the paint as I was about the actual color.
“You’re kidding, right?” he said as we stood in front of the display of cards listing all the various paints. “You don’t like this shade of blue because it’s called Jazz? But you like this one because it’s called Beside the Ocean?”
I nodded, and although, yes, he was correct, I had all I could do not to burst out laughing, because hearing Worth say it, I did sound a little nutty.
“But wait,” I said. “Yarn is the same way. I think yarn designers are very careful when they name their various yarns. People like a pleasant name. You know—something catchy.”
I could now see that Worth was having difficulty holding back his laughter. “And does the name of the yarn affect the outcome of the project?”
“Well . . . yes . . . it certainly could. And that’s why I think this shade of blue would be much better for the needlepoint shop.”
He put his arm around my shoulder, emitted a deep laugh, took the sample from my hand, and said, “Then Beside the Ocean it is.”
After getting the paint mixed, we put the pails in the shopping cart and headed to the next aisle to look at border prints. Unfortunately, just as I was turning the cart I was distracted by a display of lamps. My cart bumped into a table arranged with stacked balls of twine, causing most of them to topple, flying every which way across the floor.
“Oh! God!” I quickly began running to catch the balls and caught a glance at Worth doing the same. Bending down to scoop up more, I wasn’t able to hold back my laughter and saw that Worth was shaking his head and also laughing.
“You’re a disaster in a home improvement store,” he said, making me laugh even harder.
I rushed down the aisle to grab a few more balls of twine and re
turned to the table to see a sales clerk, hands on hips, fighting to suppress a giggle. “I would say you guys are having way too much fun,” she said as the giggle erupted to laughter.
“I am so sorry,” I told her. Talk about feeling stupid. “My cart just bumped the table, and, well . . .” I gestured with my hand.
She stooped to pick up a ball at her feet. “Don’t worry about it. I told the boss that stacking those like a pyramid was looking for trouble. I figured some kid would knock them over.”
“Thanks.” I looked around. “I think we got all of them, and I’m really sorry.”
She waved a hand in the air. “Not a problem.”
I retrieved my cart and walked down the aisle with Worth beside me.
“You do provide some good entertainment,” he said.
I looked up to see a grin covering his face.
“It wasn’t intentional, but I’m glad you enjoyed it. Okay, on to border prints.”
After much deliberation, I was convinced I just wasn’t going to find anything that appealed to me, when my eye caught a border print on the highest shelf.
Attempting to reach it, I said, “Oh, that one. I need to see that one.”
I felt Worth’s hand go around my wrist. “Ah, no you don’t. We don’t need the entire shelf coming down. I’ll get it,” he said, removing a roll and passing it to me.
“This is it,” I said and felt a strange sensation as I looked at it. It had a pale blue background and some tiny yellow flowers, and dominating the paper were blue dragonflies. I couldn’t believe it.
“Really?” Worth questioned. “You like this one?”
“I do. Do you like it?”
“Very pretty, and it’ll go nicely with the paint.”
By the time we checked out and got to Worth’s house, it was after two o’clock.
“You must be starved,” he said as we walked in and he deactivated the alarm system.
“Well, I am ready for lunch.” I followed him to the kitchen. Even though it was my second time in his home, I was still captivated by the beauty and luxury of it.
He opened the fridge and said, “Some sweet tea?”
“Sounds great.” I settled myself on the stool as he removed a pitcher and filled two tall glasses.
“Thanks,” I said and watched as he placed two plates in the microwave.
“I hope you like quiche, and we have some clam chowder to go with it.”
“I do. But tell me, you didn’t actually do this cooking, did you?”
A grin covered his face. “I can’t lie. No, I didn’t, but I do know how to cook, and actually, I’m not too bad. But my housekeeper got it all prepared for me last night.”
“That was delicious,” I told him after we finished eating. “My compliments to your housekeeper.”
“Would you like some coffee?” he asked, and when I nodded he removed a French press from the counter and proceeded to prepare it.
I watched as he filled a saucepan with water and placed it on the stove to heat and then removed a bag of coffee from his freezer. He did seem quite comfortable in his kitchen as he placed coffee beans into a grinder. The whirring sound filled the room along with the strong fragrance of coffee.
“I bet you got those coffee beans in France,” I said.
Worth looked up and smiled. “I did. One of my weaknesses. I always bring back a few bags stashed in my luggage. I’m afraid I’m spoiled by the rich, dark French coffee.”
“I agree with that. I really missed it after I returned home from my visit there years ago. Right along with the French wine and chocolate.”
Worth laughed. “Ah, a woman after my own heart. I admire your taste.”
As he filled the press with coffee, added the boiling water, and gently pushed the plunger down so it could brew, I sat there feeling very much at home. I had known Worth for only two weeks and yet it felt so right being with him.
He filled two mugs, passed one to me, and said, “Let’s go sit out by the pool. It’s nice out there late afternoon.”
I followed him to the patio table and sat across from him as my gaze took in the pool, the landscaping of bushes and flowers, and the woods beyond.
“This is such a pretty spot,” I said, taking a sip of coffee. “And this is every bit as good as I remember French coffee to be.”
“I’m glad you enjoy it,” he said, ignoring my comment on his lush surroundings.
We sat there in a comfortable silence, and then I said, “I called her. I called Andrew’s daughter.”
I could feel Worth’s gaze as I continued to stare at the pool.
“And how did that go?” he questioned.
I let out a deep sigh and turned to face him. “Probably not well. Fiona was very pleasant. Friendly. Me? Not so much. She did know that her father was married to somebody else, but that was about all she knew. She wanted to know how he had died and then seemed very interested to find out she had two half brothers.”
“That makes sense.”
“It does?”
“Well, yes. I can understand how finding out she has a blood connection to somebody else might be important to her. I know my daughter has mentioned over the years that she wishes she had a sibling. Somebody to share a history with.”
I was also an only child, and I knew what he was saying. “Hmm, I suppose you’re right.”
“So did you find out anything about her that might prevent you from signing the documents?”
“I haven’t even given the documents another thought, and what surprised me was the fact that Fiona didn’t mention them or money at all during our conversation.”
“Maybe it’s not about the money to her.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe getting information is more important to her. Learning about her father and brothers, being able to make a connection to somebody other than her mother.”
I remained silent for a few moments before saying, “Yeah . . . she asked if she could come down here to meet me and the boys.”
“She did? Well, that certainly sounds like somebody trying to reach out. So what did you tell her?”
I felt a wave of guilt and hated to have to admit my reluctance at having Fiona visit. “Well, I told her I needed time to think about it and I explained that the boys didn’t even know about her yet, that I’d be telling them at Christmas and would get back to her after the first of the year.”
Worth nodded. “And she was okay with that?”
“I really didn’t give her much choice.”
“This is a difficult situation for everybody involved,” he said, and I knew he was trying to make me feel better.
“Yeah, right. For everybody except Andrew. He conveniently died and left his mess in my hands.” As soon as I said it, I knew I sounded bitchy, but I had no control over the anger that seemed to bubble up intermittently.
Worth didn’t appear to judge me, though, as he reached across the table and grasped my hand. “You have every reason to be angry, but I think you handled the call with Fiona just fine. You answered her questions, you explained about the boys, and you told her you’d think about her coming to visit and get back to her. At this point, I don’t think she can expect more than that. I have no doubt you’ll make the right decision.”
I wished I had his confidence. I nodded and, wanting to change the subject, blurted out, “By the way, I might be moving.”
I saw the startled expression on his face. “You’re leaving Cedar Key?”
I realized my hand was still in his and gave it a squeeze before letting go and shaking my head. “No, no. But I’m thinking of purchasing a small house there. It was Maybelle Brewster’s house,” I said and went on to explain that Victoria might be selling it.
“I know that house. It’s quite . . . different,” he said, and I saw the grin covering his face. “It was Ned who did the original refurbishing of the cottage when Maybelle bought it. Gosh, that was back in the sixties and the summer before I began college. Ned let m
e go out there with him a few times to help him with the kitchen.” Worth shook his head as he began laughing. “I’ll never forget those red appliances and the white cabinets with strawberries painted on them.”
I joined his laughter. “I know. I’ll probably have to do a complete renovation of that kitchen. Even when the stove and fridge broke years later, somehow Maybelle was able to replace them with the same vintage red ones.”
“Aw, no. Don’t replace them. They add to the quirkiness and charm of that place.”
I laughed again. “Hmm, that depends on your definition of charm. I’m not sure I could wake each morning to stare at what resemble giant tomatoes in my kitchen before I’ve even had my coffee.”
“Seriously, it’s a nice little house and a very pretty setting right on the water. Have you made an offer yet?”
“No. Victoria said she’ll discuss it with me when she comes down for the memorial service in a few weeks, but I made her promise not to list it with a Realtor until I did have a chance to see it and make an offer if I’m interested.”
“I hope it’ll work out for you. As Maybelle proved, it’s an ideal house for a woman alone.”
“Yeah, I just wish my mother were a bit more enthusiastic. I was kind of surprised at her reaction when I told her.”
“Maybe she just doesn’t want to lose you. She’s had you living with her almost eight months now.”
“I don’t think that’s it. She’s normally very open-minded, and she knew that living with her wasn’t going to be permanent, that I’d be getting my own place eventually. No, it seems there’s more to it. I just wish I knew what it was.”
The rest of the afternoon flew by, and before I knew it, Worth was turning onto Andrews Circle, bringing me home. I noticed that when we were together, time seemed to move faster.
Maybe because I was trying to prolong that time, or trying to be hospitable, I said, “Would you like to come in for a while?”
He looked genuinely disappointed. “Gosh, I really can’t. I left Suzette with Doyle Summers for the day. He’s great for offering to pet sit dogs on the island, but I didn’t bring her food, so I need to collect her and bring her to the Faraway to get her fed.”