by Joy Avon
“I was just writing down a thing or two.” He waved the notebook and pen. “But if you happen to have a key on you, we can look inside, and I can give you my estimate right away.”
“Let’s do it.” Iphy produced the key from her pocket. Daisy looked up at her as if she expected a treat was forthcoming.
Callie wanted to protest as she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to see her new home in the presence of a perfect stranger, but she also knew her great-aunt couldn’t be stopped.
And Quinn was right: with the house empty, it was the perfect time for a checkup and some changes.
They went up the porch steps, Quinn unnecessarily pointing out the rotten one, and then, while Iphy opened the door, he tapped Callie’s arm to draw her attention to the hooks in the porch’s wooden ceiling. “Perfect for hanging baskets. If you need a ride to the nearest nursery, let me know. I’d be happy to come along and help you carry all the plants.”
Iphy pushed the door open and gestured. “Voilà. Come on in. Welcome to Sea Anemone. That’s the house’s name but Mr. Neville assured me you can change it if you like. I had the distinct impression that if you like it here, you could offer to buy the cottage, and he wouldn’t mind at all.”
Callie hemmed. She had no idea yet how the house looked, or whether she’d even like to live here, so for the moment she was perfectly happy to rent it and think about something more permanent later.
Inside there was the pervasive smell of a space that had been closed up for a long time. Cobwebs threaded from the coats rack to the opposite wall, and their footfalls disturbed the dust on the floorboards. Daisy sneezed and shuddered.
Callie grimaced, but Quinn said, “I’ll open all windows while I’m painting. The house just needs some air. It’s a nice little place if you ignore the dirt.”
Callie had to agree with him that, while it looked quite compact on the outside, there was a lot of room indoors, with a hallway that led straight into the open living room with a gorgeous fireplace. Daisy ran over and lay down in front of it as if she wanted to say, My place is right here.
The kitchen sat to the left, with some modern appliances already in place. And upstairs there were two bedrooms, so Callie could even have people come stay. The window in the room she immediately designated for herself gave a lovely view of the garden below. Left to itself, it had grown a bit wild, but she could see the potential. Rose beds, maybe growing her own herbs? Wouldn’t it be wonderful to step out at night with a basket on her arm and snip off some parsley, or mint for tea? The image itself seemed the very epitome of country living.
In the bathroom with cute lavender tiles, the tap was leaking and the air was rather damp, but Quinn assured her he could fix that as well.
From the doorway Iphy said, “I hope you like it. I paid three months’ rent in advance. And Mr. Neville was so happy he had found someone to live here, after all that time. It’s not his fault he wasn’t up to keeping things neat and tidy anymore. After his wife died, he just lost a bit of spark. But the idea of having someone restore the place put the twinkle back in his eye.”
Callie exhaled. In her mind she was already buying towels with sprigs of lavender embroidered on them to go with the bathroom tiles, and changing the curtains in the living room and finding the perfect painting to hang over that hearth. “I think that with a little work it could be great. Are we really allowed to make changes?”
“Of course,” Iphy said, “just as long as it doesn’t change the structure, so you can’t knock down a wall or change the roof. But small changes like painting and repairs of the porch aren’t a problem.”
Callie turned to Quinn, who had been looking around and taking more notes. “Can you give me that estimate now?” She held her breath, cringing inwardly at what the figure might be.
But when he held out his notepad to her, she blinked at the scribbled numbers and refocused to see if she had read them right. Then she looked up at him. “That little?”
“Well, of course you need to buy all the materials: the paint you like, the wallpaper you want, a new tap if I can’t fix this old one. These figures are purely compensation for my time and effort.”
“Still I think it’s very modest.” She studied him with a frown. “Are you sure you’re figuring on enough hours? I mean, you will finish it and do it right, and not leave me hanging halfway through?”
“Of course. This is what I charge for delivering you a completed job.”
“Well, I guess it’s a deal, then.” Callie reached out and shook his hand. “I’ll decide as quickly as possible what colors of paint and what kind of wallpaper I want.” She looked at Iphy. “The only problem right now is that my furniture is en route here. It should be here tomorrow. If I can’t put it here, where do I put it?”
“I think the old stables at Haywood Hall are empty. I’ll ask Dorothea about it,” Iphy said.
“Isn’t Haywood Hall that old country house?” Quinn asked. “I saw a mention in the newspaper the other day that there’s going to be a Fourth of July party there. Highlights from local history or something?”
Iphy nodded enthusiastically. “The theme is Living History. The Historical Society will present life on the coast through the ages, and some demonstration dancers will come in to do Golden Age dances. As we have plenty of space at Haywood Hall, we’ll even bring in a small plane from the forties so people can have their picture taken with it. Aviation enthusiasts, in authentic pilots’ uniforms from the era, will tell stories of Heart’s Harbor’s contribution in World War Two. There will also be a sweet tea competition, where participants share their family recipes, and a professional jury will choose the best sweet tea, which we will then put on the menu at Book Tea for the rest of the summer season. We have something for everyone really, but personally I’d love for us to have something spectacular to present right before the big fireworks start.”
She looked at Callie. “I thought you could arrange that.”
“Me?” Callie was taken aback. “But I just got here today. And the party is in three weeks’ time.”
“I thought you could come up with something. You’ve worked all these years telling people spectacular tales about events in the past.”
“Yes, but then we were in Vienna or Paris. Here—”
“We’re just in Heart’s Harbor?” Iphy wagged a finger at her. “Don’t talk disparagingly about your new hometown. People won’t like you any better for it.”
Although her tone was light, Callie suspected that she meant it. Iphy expected her to turn up something sensational to wow the townsfolk with.
“Maybe newspaper archives can give you a starting point?” Quinn suggested. “Some big headline from the past that grabs your attention?”
“Yes.” Iphy clapped her hands together. “That’s such a good idea, Quinn. Why don’t you help us, not only with the house but also with the tea party preparations?”
“Well, uh, I don’t know …” Quinn fidgeted with the notebook in his hands. “I guess I—”
“Excellent. That’s taken care of then.” And with that, Iphy left the room.
“You’ll have to forgive her for her take-charge attitude,” Callie said to Quinn. That’s just how she is. She’s really sweet, and the town depends on her to come up with the good ideas.”
Quinn held her gaze as if he was trying to see past her upbeat tone. “You’ve just been stuck a job to complete at short notice, and a handyman to update your new house, and now she’s also getting the handyman involved in said job. Are you okay with that, or do you just want to run away screaming?”
Callie had to admit the butterflies in her stomach were fluttering harder now with the realization of all she had to tackle here. Her old life had been comfortingly familiar. She could have done her trips on autopilot, being so settled into her routine. Here everything was new, and she knew people would be watching her to see how she did. The Fourth of July celebrations would be big, and …
What if she couldn’t meet all the toweri
ng expectations?
“Just think about it, okay?” Quinn said. “No pressure. I’d just enjoy the chance to learn a little more about this town and what happened here.”
“So you’re not a resident?”
Quinn shook his head. “Just passing through.” He scribbled something on a page of the notepad, tore it off, and gave it to her. “My cell phone number, so you can call me to discuss the work. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to keep the key on me so I can start working here right away. I can repair the porch step and get started on some other things without needing paint.”
“I guess that’s fine.” It felt odd entrusting someone she didn’t know with the key to her new home, but it was still empty; nothing of hers was there.
They caught up with Iphy, who handed over the key and thanked Quinn for dropping by. At the car, she said to Callie, “I want to go to the lighthouse now so you can meet Dave and Elvira. They’re your next-door neighbors, should you ever need anything.” She raised a hand in a wave to Quinn, who had pulled a mountain bike from beside a bush and pedaled off.
“You see, in a town like ours you’ll always find someone to help you in a heartbeat.”
“But Quinn is no local.” Callie buckled up and cuddled Daisy. “In fact, I’m not even sure if Quinn is his first or last name. He was rather vague about why he was here too.”
She glanced at Iphy, who turned the ignition. “Are you sure we can trust him?”
“I don’t see that he can do much harm.”
Chapter Two
Callie loved landmarks of any kind, whether church towers, turrets on an old mansion, or lighthouses. She always admired the craftsmanship that had gone into building up to a certain level and maintaining a balanced and beautiful structure that was also functional.
The Heart’s Harbor lighthouse was black and white with a beacon on top, encased in a metal construction that was painted black as well. The keeper’s cottage huddled at its foot, looking a little like her new home, and Callie could now see in real life, instead of just in her imagination, what cute curtains, flowering plants and a bench to sit on at night could do for a place.
A woman with grayish streaks in her brown hair was on her knees, filling a wooden chest, and only turned to them when they were almost all the way up the path. She rose to her feet and put her hand against her throat. “Oh. You startled me. Unless we have groups coming for the beach combing, we rarely see people here.”
As she caught Callie’s incredulous look, she added, “The beaches where tourists go for sunbathing and swimming are on the other side of town. The beach here is a little too rocky, and the wind can suddenly breathe across it and make you want to turn up your collar. Even in summer it’s just not the best place to take your kids for a family outing that involves going into the water. But if you want to scour the sand for finds, well, I dare you to show me a place that is better suited to it.”
Callie smiled. “You advertise it well.”
The woman swiped a lock of hair from her face. “I’ve lived here for almost thirty years now. If it bored me, I would have been long gone. But the sea is just something … special. It’s never the same. And this lighthouse always reminds me you need a beacon to feel secure. To know where you’re going. Even if at some points you don’t know where you are.”
Callie reached out her hand. “I’m moving in to the cottage nearby. Mr. Neville’s Sea Anemone”
The woman nodded. “Oh, what great news! It has been empty for too long. I’m happy someone’s moving back into it.”
“I just wanted to introduce myself. Callie Aspen. And this is my dog, Daisy.”
“Elvira Riggs. Hello, Daisy.” Elvira leaned down to pat the Boston terrier. “My husband has been here for all of his life. His father was keeper before him, and his grandfather before that. It’s really a family thing. When they decided to move away from manual operation, we stayed on and came up with the beachcombing activities.”
“Sounds like a summer thing. You can’t have it easy in winter.”
Scratching Daisy behind the ears, Elvira shrugged. “All small businesses with seasonal activities struggle when it’s not their season. But we have other things we can do. I translate books, and Dave restores old boats. In fact, sometimes in the summer, when all the families with kids drive me a little crazy, I can long for the quiet winter season, when the rain lashes against the windows and I’m at the computer all day long looking for the perfect words to translate that one elusive expression.”
Callie could just picture the scene. “What languages do you translate into?”
“From,” Elvira corrected. “I translate French novels into English. Mainly historical novels, where the French can be quite challenging. All kinds of garbs for instance or furniture or professions. But I enjoy those challenges. And when I have another chapter finished, I make myself a fresh pot of tea and look outside at the raging sea, and I just can’t help thinking I have the best life ever.”
Callie hoped that she would feel that same way once she was settled into her new life here in town.
Iphy said, “I just wanted to ask you and Dave to keep an eye on Callie at her new place. I mean, she can take care of herself of course—after all she used to travel the world, but it’s always nice when there’s someone at hand.”
“Of course. I do know the cottage has a bad porch step. Could Dave perhaps—”
Callie raised a hand to ward off the friendly offer. “That’s very kind, but I just hired someone to do repairs and help me with painting and wallpapering.”
“Oh, that’s fine then.” Elvira stood up straight again and raked back her hair with both hands. “Can I offer you a drink?” She smiled at Callie. “I think you’d like to see the lighthouse from the inside. Our little museum of finds?”
“Definitely, but some other time would be great.” Callie glanced at Iphy. She figured her busy great-aunt wouldn’t want to stay away from Book Tea for too long. And when she moved in to the cottage nearby, shortly, she’d have plenty of opportunity to go see the finds.
Elvira accepted her decision without offering again and turned back to the wooden chest, leaning over it and stuffing something into it a little better. Daisy followed her as if she wanted to see what was inside, and only came to Callie after she had been called a couple of times.
As the three of them walked back to the car, Iphy whispered, “People thought that Dave Riggs would never marry. He sure took his time looking for the right woman. But once he met Elvira, it was a done deal. She moved in with him from one day to the other. They met and married somewhere abroad, I think.”
“Oh. How unexpected for a man so attached to his lighthouse to even travel abroad.”
“It had to do with lighthouses, of course. Dave collects footage of them from all around the world. Most of it he gathers through contacts with other collectors and historical societies for the preservation of historical landmarks. But he does travel every once in a while to see some rare lighthouse in person. I think he must have met Elvira on one of those trips.”
Callie nodded, glancing back over her shoulder at the busy woman. She had been friendly enough, but still as she saw her there, working on her own, she also seemed solitary, like the lighthouse, not afraid to weather the storm alone.
When they reached the station wagon, they found a police car parked right behind it. A tall, dark-haired man was standing at the back and leaned over to the ground.
Callie focused better and realized the man was exchanging his shoes for knee-high rubber boots.
“Deputy Falk!” Iphy called.
Falk looked up. He only pretended to be surprised, Callie guessed, as he must know her great-aunt’s station wagon very well and had to have recognized it the instant he parked his own vehicle right behind it. Or did his surprise not extend to her great-aunt but rather to finding her in town? “You blocked our way out,” Iphy said.
“You can make a turn there.” Falk gestured to the left. “I have to look for
a missing dog.”
“Missing dog?” Callie echoed.
Falk sighed. “Elderly couple was walking him when some kids shot off a firecracker in the dunes. The dog got a scare and ran off. They think he’s still wandering on the beach. They even wanted us to use a search helicopter to spot it. They were very disappointed when I told them we can’t put a helicopter up just to look for a dog. I mean—don’t get me wrong—I understand they’re concerned for their dog, but we have to look at how we use our resources. The sheriff’s out of town, took his wife to Venice to celebrate their fortieth anniversary, and he won’t appreciate me spending the town’s money on a search for a runaway canine. In fact, had he been here, he would probably have told them to go look themselves or just put up a few posters asking for information. He’d say the dog will turn up somehow. Get hungry, go to a house looking for food maybe.”
Callie nodded. “I understand. But you don’t share that opinion? You’re here, ready to look. Still, it can’t be very efficient if you go on foot, looking for a dog that might be miles off.”
Falk rolled his eyes. “I know, but the woman was so upset that I felt I had to do something. Besides, we had a call from someone that they saw a black and white dog running around just a little farther down that beach.”
“You know what?” Iphy said. “Callie can help you. Two pairs of eyes spot more than one. You can drop her at Book Tea later, right? Bring Daisy, Callie. Her presence might attract the other dog.”
Callie wanted to protest and say she doubted this would work, but Iphy got into her station wagon and started the engine before she could argue.
As she turned away, Falk looked down at Callie’s shoes. Although not towering heels, they weren’t exactly beach-proof either. He sighed. “Want to borrow my boots? I can put my shoes back on. They’re more suitable for plowing through the sand than yours.”
Callie felt awkward intruding into his mission like this. “I had no idea I would be plowing through any sand. Iphy told me she only wanted to show me my new house.”