Read Back to McGuffey's Online

Authors: Liz Flaherty

Tags: #Family Life, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #RNS, #Romance

Back to McGuffey's (12 page)

BOOK: Back to McGuffey's
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Panic filled her eyes. “Where’s my boyfriend? He didn’t leave, did he? I can’t face them by myself.”

“He’s here. I’ll send him in when I leave.”

Ben went into the waiting room. The girl’s boyfriend sat sprawled in one of the not-built-for-comfort chairs that faced the television.

“You can see her,” Ben said, resisting the urge to kick the boy’s boots where they were crossed in front of him. “You’ll need to stay with her until her parents get here. She’s scared. She’s still in pain, she’s weak and she’s grieving.”

The boyfriend got up, pushing his tight ragged jeans down to where they met his boots. “I’ll stay with her.”

Ben nodded and turned to walk away.

“Doc?”

He turned back, raising a questioning eyebrow. He knew the expression made him look pompous and superior, but he really didn’t care.

“Was it a boy or a girl?”

“A girl. She had her named, so do yourself a favor and don’t refer to the baby as ‘it.’ Better yet, don’t say much of anything. Just hold her hand till she sleeps and be there when she wakes up.”

“I’ll do that.” There was an extra shimmer in his eyes that surprised Ben. “Thanks, Doc.”

“Right.” He walked away.

It was well past midnight when he finished at the hospital. He didn’t want to go back to the apartment over Kingdom Comer’s garage, because Kate wasn’t there across the courtyard where he could wake her and talk to her if he wanted to. He could always stop by McGuffey’s and help close, but he didn’t feel like being social even with his siblings. What he wanted to do was drive partway up Wish Mountain and sit on Bright Sky’s patio with Kate, drinking coffee or hot chocolate. Maybe accidentally take her hand and just hold it.

He didn’t mean to call her. He parked where he always did behind the inn and reached for the phone in its little holder on the dash and...he must have hit the code that dialed her number. And once it was ringing, he couldn’t give up. He knew his calls had a special ring tone on her phone—the refrain from “Witch Doctor.” She would know, even if he hung up, who had called her at 1:16 a.m.

“Tall guy? You okay?” When she answered, her voice soft and sleepy, he knew he’d be able to talk a little, drink some chocolate milk straight from the carton, then sleep.

“Yeah,” he said, getting out of the car and going to sit in the glider under the maples in the backyard. It was warm tonight, part of the couple of weeks that comprised midsummer in the Northeast Kingdom. “I’m okay. It was a rough one tonight, short woman, but you know what?”

He could almost see her cozying into the pillows, reaching for the bottle of water she probably had on the table beside the bed. She’d be settling in to talk whether she felt like it or not. “What?”

Being friends with Kate might not be enough, but it was pretty good. Dirty Sally curled into his lap and he stroked her chin. “My dad was right about me being a doctor.”

CHAPTER TEN

“I
T
LOOKS
WONDERFUL
.” Mrs. Hylton-Wise gazed out the windows of Bright Sky at where Mr. Hayes and Jayson worked on the front lawn. “Mr. Hayes said they’d be finished Tuesday and after that he’ll come out one day a week and keep it spruced up.” She looked down at the clipboard in her hand then raised her gaze to meet Kate’s. “You’ve been very thorough, too, Miss Rafael. I can’t believe how much you accomplished in only twenty-four hours.”

Kate was more relieved by Mrs. H-W’s approval than she expected to be. “Thank you. Since I’ve now slept in your guest room and officially messed up your gazillion-thread-count sheets, don’t you think you could call me Kate?”

Something relaxed and softened in the woman’s austere features. “Yes, I can do that.”

“It’s beautiful here.” Kate joined the older woman by the windows. “How can you stay away?” She laughed, abashed. “Of course, I have this little bias toward the Northeast Kingdom, since I’ve lived here my whole life. My idea of getting away is going to the movies in New Hampshire.”

“I do love it here. Max, my driver and the man who’s taken care of our family since it was just my husband and me, does, too—he wants to retire here. He says working for our family has taught him well how to drive in snowy mountains.” Mrs. Hylton-Wise hesitated. “You’ve seen the pictures?”

Kate nodded, wanting to know about the people in the pictures but not wanting to ask questions. It was one thing to be mildly insistent she be called Kate, but expecting reciprocal informality was something else again.

The woman pushed her hair back and lifted a frame from the slender-legged table behind the sofa. It was a front porch shot of Mrs. Hylton-Wise, the Paul McCartney look-alike and the three children. She pointed at the smiling faces with a clear-polished fingernail. “My daughter Regina is the oldest. James Junior is next. That’s my husband—his name was James Paul just like Paul McCartney’s. It was so amazing that he looked like him, too.” She stopped for a moment, looking at the photograph with softened eyes, then went on. “Jim died five years ago. We were packing up the apartment in Manhattan to move here permanently. He was so excited, because even though he’d grown up in Tribeca, he was a country boy at heart. It was the happiest he’d been since...well, in a very long time. But he went back to the office after dinner to do some paperwork and had a massive heart attack. He died sitting at his desk.”

“I’m sorry.” Kate waited for the rest of the story. And dreaded it. The pain in the room had become almost a palpable thing, with a heartbeat and a heavy ache of its own.

Crystalline tears sparkled in Mrs. Hylton-Wise’s eyes, dropping to land on the soft turquoise blouse she wore. She touched the picture of the little girl with Down syndrome. “This is our youngest child. She was born when I was forty-one—quite a surprise, I can tell you! Her name was Skylar Margaret, but we called her Bright Sky.” She laughed, a silvery joyous sound Kate hadn’t heard before. “When we bought this house, she and Jim considered it theirs, I think—the rest of us were only allowed to stay on sufferance.”

Something clicked in Kate’s mind. “Was her room the one without a door?”

Mrs. H-W nodded. “She and her daddy supervised every step of the renovations, and she was very upset that she didn’t get to have an outside door like Regina’s and Jamie’s. She loved going to church, so she asked if she could have a ‘church window’ since she couldn’t have a door. There was no way Jim was going to deny the request—Bright Sky never asked for anything—so he had it built just for her. You noticed it has a deep seat. She called it her jewelry window and would sit in it for hours at a time, touching the colors and naming them.”

“Did she name the house, too?”

“No, actually, Jamie and Regina did. They were both grown by then—in grad school—and only came here for the occasional weekend. They would tell people they were going to Bright Sky’s house, and it just caught on. It was such a happy house, and she was the cheeriest child.” Mrs. H-W’s smile was wide with memory, even as tears continued to slip down her face.

Kate handed her a tissue from the box on the table. “Would you like to sit down? You don’t have to tell me this if it’s painful.”

“It’s all right. I don’t talk about her very often. It feels rather good. Maybe enough time has finally passed.” Bright Sky’s mother sounded surprised by that. She moved away from the window to sit on the sofa. Kate joined her, feeling useless—this woman was crying and there was nothing she could do but listen to the splintery sound of heartbreak.

“We were devastated when she was born with Down syndrome, but when you have a child with disabilities you learn to cherish the aptitudes they do have, like Jayson’s abilities with growing things. Bright Sky was wonderful with animals. If she were at Kingdom Comer, she’d want to sleep with Lucy and Dirty Sally, and they’d be glad to have her. Jim found a riding academy with classes for disabled children and we took her there often. She loved it.” Her voice faded away.

“Why don’t I make some tea?” Kate got up. A natural-born hugger, she’d have loved to put her arms around the other woman—it was the kind of comfort Kate herself understood—but she was sure the embrace wouldn’t be welcomed. “You have that pretty Fiesta tea set I’ve been itching to use ever since I got here, but Ben and Mr. Hayes look down their noses at tea.” She grinned, though it felt shaky. “Much as I love Jayson, I’m not ready to trust him with china.” He was very careful, but things still slipped away from him.

“Oh, let him use the Fiesta. We got that because Bright Sky loved the colors—you’ll notice there’s only one turquoise cup. That was her favorite color and I’ve never replaced the broken ones—they’re an old color and not always easy to find. I’m sure he’ll have a favorite, too.” Mrs. H-W’s gaze met hers. “Thank you. I’d like some tea.”

Kate was surprised when the other woman followed her into the kitchen. “I love this room.” Kate put the kettle on the commercial-sized range. “Working at the inn, I’ve gotten used to cooking on six-burner stoves and having more than one oven and a prep sink. There’s even a baking station. The kitchen in the living quarters at A Day at a Time is about the size of a place mat, though it’s arranged very conveniently.”

“You probably won’t live there very long, will you?”

Kate thought she probably would. Marriage and family weren’t looking all that likely, nor was winning the Vermont Lottery—she’d heard she’d have to buy tickets to win. But she didn’t think Mrs. Hylton-Wise was familiar with the paycheck-to-paycheck financial concept, and now didn’t seem to be a good time to educate her.

“I don’t know. If I stay a long time, I’ll build on. The lot’s plenty big enough.” Though she didn’t want to live there at all—one night in a guest room in Bright Sky had shown her that. Starting a company was exciting, as was the new building that housed the business, but she didn’t want to live in it. She thought she would always smell fire there.

Kate carried the tea tray outside, and they drank Earl Grey and ate snickerdoodles in the shadow of Wish Mountain. They made desultory conversation about cookie recipes and Kate’s preference for electric ovens over gas, but eventually Mrs. H-W picked up the threads of her story she’d started telling earlier.

“Bright Sky went to a private school in the city. Max drove her on inclement days, but the rest of the time, someone walked with her. It was only eight blocks, and she loved being outside. Usually Jim took her when he went to work, or sometimes Max’s wife did—she’s our housekeeper.” Mrs. Hylton-Wise stopped to sip her tea and gaze at the mountain. Her hands trembled when she set down her turquoise cup.

“Please.” Kate covered the other woman’s shaking fingers. “You don’t have to.”
Please don’t. I don’t want to hear this.

It was as though the other woman didn’t hear her, though she turned her hand to hold tight to Kate’s. “I picked her up that Wednesday—we went for manicures and vanilla shakes. She was so excited and proud of her nails. There was a dog walker ahead of us on the sidewalk with a whole starburst of little dogs, and she was excited about that, too. One of the leashes broke and Cedric, the Pomeranian who lived in the apartment above ours, ran toward the street.”

Mrs. Hylton-Wise stopped for a moment. She released Kate’s hands, sipped more tea, stared once again toward the mountain that rose like a sentinel behind the house. Kate fancied she could hear the other woman’s heart beating. The thought made her lay a protesting hand on her own chest.

“Even now, fifteen years later, I see it all in slow motion like in a movie. So many things were happening. A bicycle rode right into the cluster of dogs. A taxi came to a stop just as another car pulled out of a parking space. A tour bus, one of the hop-on-hop-off ones, was across the street. People were loading onto it. A horse-drawn carriage came around the corner. The dog walker remained calm, but it seemed as though everyone else on the sidewalk was screaming and shouting. Bright Sky got away from me and caught Cedric. She cried out, ‘Look, Mama, I got him’ and then got the most confused look on her face. She took a few more steps toward me, then she just collapsed.” Her voice grew scratchy and quiet as she talked. By the time she finished, it was scarcely more a scrape on the silence. Kate had to lean toward her to hear.

“We knew she had heart issues, even though she’d had the surgery that was recommended when she was a baby. She’d done so well and we tried to take such good care of her. There hadn’t been any symptoms of anything out of the ordinary. It was a blessing, I suppose, that she never suffered. But you always think there will be profound last words or thoughts when you lose someone. Jim had that—his last words to her were that he loved her. Mine were ‘Hold my hand, Bright Sky. We need to get home.’ I’ve never quite forgiven myself for that.”

Kate refilled their teacups. She knew if she tried to talk right that minute, she’d be in a wallow of unhelpful tears. This then was why Mrs. H-W had reacted so negatively when she first met Jayson—he reminded her of what she’d lost.

They sat in silence for a moment; grief was the elephant in the room. Finally, when her cup was empty again, Kate cleared her throat. “The manicure and the vanilla shake. Those were treats for her?”

“Oh, yes.” Mrs. Hylton-Wise smiled brightly, though her eyes were still tragic. “She loved ice cream, and having her nails done made her feel so grown-up. Regina used to do them for her, but I was always too clumsy and would end up cutting her fingertips, so I took her for manicures instead.”

“Then I think that’s pretty profound. Like Jayson. He loves anyone who will ride bikes with him, and he doesn’t care if it’s only around the block and that he falls off on the corners. He doesn’t remember what’s in the funny pages, but he remembers that you read them to him. They might not have been the last words you’d have wanted to say to her, but taking her for ice cream and nails—that was perfect.”

Kate got up, placing the cups on the tray with the empty teapot. “Are you staying out here tonight, Mrs. H-W? I’ll be glad to prepare dinner for us if you are.” That wasn’t exactly true—as things were, Ben was taking her
out
to dinner—but she didn’t want to leave the house’s owner alone.

“No, I’m going back to the inn.” Mrs. H-W got up, too. “But thank you for listening to me.” She smiled at Kate. “I think you should call me Maggie.”

* * *

“H
OKEY
SMOKES
,
SHE

S
wearing a dress.” Ben stood inside the front door of Bright Sky, staring as Kate came down the stairs in something short, black and sparkly. She was even wearing stockings, sheer and black, and they had sparkles in them, too. Oh, yeah, hokey smokes at least and roaring crazy bonfire at most. Her hair was clipped back, though strands had already worked their way loose to fall in shiny tendrils on her neck, forehead and the sides of her cheeks. She wore more makeup than she usually did. Her eyes seemed bigger, her cheekbones just...wow, cheekbones. Her lips looked glossy and inviting. Even her jewelry—all delicate silver—looked inviting. He thought, watching her walk down to him, that he knew how the chain would feel between his fingers, warm from her skin. And how that skin would feel.

“Isn’t it great?” She did a little spin that set the dress shimmering around her legs. Narrow jeweled straps crossed her bare, golden-skinned back to hold the front of the dress in place. Whoa, make that a forest fire instead.

“Yeah,” he said. “Great.” Yes, sir, eight years of post-high-school education and twelve years in a metropolitan hospital had lent him such an air of sophistication. His eloquence was downright amazing.

She did a little Bojangles Robinson–Shirley Temple dance on the stairs.

“Do you have a curfew, Cinderella?” he asked, taking her hand when she reached the bottom of the stairs. “Seems to me a dress like that calls for dancing somewhere besides the steps.” What was he saying? He only danced at McGuffey’s. But the woman with the silky caramel-colored hair and the—hokey smokes, what a dress—yeah, dancing would be good.

“Why, no, I don’t. We’ve rewritten the story for the occasion.” She gave her head a little toss. “My wicked stepsisters—that would be Penny, Joann and Marce—are taking care of the ashes for me.” She looked past him at the grandfather clock near the door. “Of course, I do have a tendency to fall asleep along about ten o’clock, so we might want to get going.”

He wished he’d driven Patrick’s turning-forty-panic present from Wendy, a shiny red convertible that would have looked really good with the woman in the sparkly black dress inside. But his older brother would have wanted Ben to sign over the contents of his retirement account before handing him the keys. At least his black SUV was clean and a color-coordinated foil for the woman in the shimmery dress.

On the way to Burlington, they talked about A Day at a Time, why he was a doctor instead of a has-been downhill skier and how they would change Bright Sky if they lived there.

“I like that it’s a log structure and that there’s not a single piece of furniture in the place with a sharp corner on it. It’s kind of retro, in the best possible way.” Ben grinned over at her. “I think that fireplace in the kitchen screams to get rid of the dishwasher and that big stove. They modernize the room way too much. And that three-season room off the kitchen? Perfect place for storing bicycles and skis and snowshoes.”

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