Harriet Beamer Strikes Gold (10 page)

“Crackers are good, but pie is better,” Florence said.

“Maybe we should let her stomach settle first.”

The kettle whistle blew, and Harriet made three cups of tea and carried it all out to the living room on a vintage Pepsi tray—the one with girls on a beach having way too much fun drinking Pepsi. The slogan read, “The drink that satisfies.”

“Here we are,” Harriet said in a sing-songy voice.

“Thank you,” Prudence said, sitting up straighter. “Hi, Mrs. Caldwell.”

“Now haven’t I told you a dozen times to call me Florence. And, you know, crackers are good, but I brought pie.”

Harriet watched Prudence’s eyes light up. She did like Florence’s pies. But Prudence looked at Florence and said, “Thanks, but maybe just the crackers for now.”

Harriet patted Prudence’s knee. “You just let those crackers settle, and then we’ll think about blueberry pie.”

Florence stayed for a few more minutes before she excused herself. “As long as all is well here, I think I’ll skedaddle.”

“Thank you for stopping by and for the pie,” Prudence said.

“No need to show me out.”

“Would you let Humphrey inside?” Harriet asked. “Oh, and pick up your special pie tin from the lemon meringue pie. It’s on the counter. I forgot to give it to you this morning when you picked me up.”

Harriet enjoyed her time with Prudence. It was the first time in, well, ever that the two of them had spent so much time together just talking. It seemed now they had something in common. Prudence seemed to enjoy the stories Harriet told of her pregnancy and Henry’s delivery.

“Let’s just say he took his time,” Harriet said. “Three false alarms and thirty-six hours of labor. I thought maybe I was giving birth to a hippo. And don’t get me started on Max, for goodness sake that husband of mine …”

Prudence’s eyes grew wide. Harriet changed the subject.

“So the builders are coming next Monday,” Harriet said. “I am just so excited.”

“Yes, yes,” Prudence said. “Bright and early.”

“How long did they say the project will take again?”

“Two months, start to finish.”

Harriet did the same quick calculations she had done before. “That means I really will be in my own place by Christmas.”

“Yes,” Prudence said. “Then we’ll get started on the nursery.
I figured Christmas would be a good time to start.” Sandra Day jumped onto Prudence’s lap. Harriet liked to see Prudence give the cat some attention, although she knew that some cats, like Sandra Day, didn’t require much, not like Humphrey.

“Sounds good to me,” Harriet said. “Have you got any thoughts on décor?”

“For your Grammy Suite or the nursery?”

“Well, dear, I thought that I would decorate my suite. I was talking about the nursery.”

“That’s what I thought. No, not really. I just know I want the nursery light and airy and full of books and pictures and soft things.”

“Ha, that’s pretty much how I was thinking about the Grammy Suite.”

Prudence yawned and patted her tummy. “Do you think I’m showing yet?”

“Well, maybe a little. But don’t rush it.” She smiled as she took off her sneakers. “Say, I bought a few things for Martha’s visit. Would you like to see?”

“Sure,” Prudence said. “But I am pretty certain I have a little baby bump going on here.”

“Darling, the baby is the size of a peach pit right now.”

Harriet had just picked up her bags when she heard her phone jingle. “That might be Martha,” she called to Prudence. “Will you excuse me?”

“Sure,” Prudence said. “Take your time. I think I’ll rest a bit.”

Henry closed his laptop. He had had enough writing for one day. He checked his phone. It was almost three o’clock. He tossed his trash into the can and stuffed his computer into his leather messenger bag. The cowboy and the girl had long gone, but Henry was still very excited about the prospect of having a gold strike in his new book.

“How hard can gold mining be?” he said to himself on the way outside. “A pick, an axe, maybe some pans and, presto! Gold nuggets.”

Feeling quite pleased with his new plot twist, Henry walked down Main Street. He passed Rachel’s Café, but he wasn’t hungry so he went on to the Viking Bakery. He had promised Harriet he would bring donuts home for Humphrey.

“Six glazed, please.” He ordered extra because Prudence might enjoy something sweet. “Warm ones if you have them.”

“Just out,” the girl behind the counter said. “Only six?”

“Oh, make it a dozen.”

Henry was feeling so good. There wasn’t much that could burst his bubble that day. He paid for the donuts, and as he opened the bakery door he noticed their bulletin board. His eyes fell on a flyer that read, “Gold mines for lease. Don’t get duped. Call the professionals.”

“Now there’s a sign if ever there was one.” He peeled off one of the telephone tabs. “For research.” Henry didn’t think he would ever actually invest in anything as sketchy as a gold mine. But with the baby coming, who knew?

“
DON
’
T STOP RINGING
,” H
ARRIET SAID AS SHE SEARCHED
her bag.

But unfortunately, when she found her phone tucked in the very bottom of the large bag, the jingling had stopped.

She looked at the screen. It was Win who had called, not Martha. She felt both disappointed and excited. Maybe they struck gold.

Humphrey followed Harriet onto the deck. She wanted to return Win’s call out of earshot of Prudence.

“Harriet,” Win said. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry I didn’t pick up when you just called. I couldn’t get to my phone. It was stuck in the bottom of my tote again.”

“Oh, that’s no trouble at all, darlin’.”

“I’m glad. So what’s up? Good news, I hope.”

“Well now, in a matter of speaking it’s good news.”

Harriet sat down at the deck table where the sun was warm. “Uh oh, I don’t like the sound of that, Win.”

“Now, it’s nothing huge. It’s just that the boys have been working awful hard. In fact, too hard. We don’t have the machinery to keep up with how much gravel and dirt they’re going through. That’s where you can help.”

“I can?” Harriet imagined herself climbing the mountains and using a shovel or pickax or whatever it was they used up there. “But how?”

“That’s easy. The boys are asking for a second sluice box and another trommel too.”

“Trommel?”

Win laughed. “Why don’t you just meet us down at the bank before it closes, and I’ll explain it to you.”

“But I just this minute got back from town. Can it wait until tomorrow?” But then she remembered. Martha was coming.

“Okay. I’ll just slip my sneakers back on. How much do you think you’ll need?”

“Not much, darlin’. A paltry amount when you consider how much gold we’re fixin’ to get out of all that dirt we move through the trommel.”

“Sounds exciting,” Harriet said. She had images of great mounds of dirt being forced through a giant flour sifter. But that couldn’t be right, could it? “I can meet you at the bake … I mean bank in a half hour or so.”

“I’m already here,” Win said. “Lily and I will just wait right here for you, pretty lady.”

“Okay.” But then she remembered Henry was gone and had taken the BMW. “I guess I can take the SUV if Prudence doesn’t need it,” she told Win. “My Vespa would take too long.”

“You mean one of them bitty scooters?” Win said.

Harriet thought she might have detected a certain amount of derision in his voice. But then he chuckled. “That’s super cool, Harriet. I knew you were one special lady.”

Harriet tapped off her phone. “Trommel? Sluice box? Gold mining sure takes a lot of equipment.”

She patted Humphrey, who was looking at her like she had just lost her mind. “Now, don’t you start worrying. I’m certain it will pay off.”

Harriet went back inside and checked on Prudence first.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Much better,” Prudence said. “In fact, I would love a slice of that pie if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Course not. I’ll go get it.”

Harriet sliced into the pie. The nearly purple juice flowed like lava and the sweet, succulent aroma lifted to the air. It smelled sweet and refreshing and healthy. “Blueberries always did smell clean,” she said. She dropped a chunk of crust on the floor for Humphrey, who lapped it up like there was no tomorrow. Next Harriet poured a glass of milk. “One percent,” she read. “It’s whole milk now.”

“Thank you,” Prudence said as Harriet set the plate and milk on the ottoman they used as a coffee table. It was soft and thick, and the serving trays always came in handy, otherwise the milk would spill onto Prudence’s carpet.

“Now, don’t you worry about the dishes,” Harriet said. “I’ll clean up when I get back.”

“Back? Are you going out again?”

Harriet swallowed. “Yes. I … I forgot something. Do you mind if I take the SUV? I won’t be long.” Prudence said she didn’t mind her taking her car, but Harriet was thinking. Now she’d done it. She’d lied. Harriet did not like to lie. It was one thing to just choose not to tell someone something, but to out loud lie was quite another. Harriet’s heart sank.

But as she made her way to the door, she justified the lie by thinking of the baby’s future college career.

Henry jiggled the donut box as he entered the house. Humphrey came running.

“Here you go, boy.” The dog leaped with about as much joy as a Basset could muster. Henry fed him the donut. “Nice and fresh.”

“Hey.”

Henry looked up. Startled. “Mom? You sound funny.”

“It’s me,” Prudence said.

Henry looked toward the couch and saw Prudence.

“What are you doing home? Are you okay?”

“Yes. Just some morning sickness. Your mother was here taking care of me. I’m fine now.”

Henry leaned over and kissed Prudence. “Um, blueberry. Pie?”

“Florence brought it over. Pretty tasty.”

“I have donuts.” He set them on the coffee ottoman before joining Prudence on the couch.

“I’ll have one of them too.”

“So where’s Mom now?”

“She took the SUV back into town.” Prudence readjusted herself. “Said she forgot something. She was out all morning buying things for Martha and then having lunch with Florence.”

“Wait. That’s tomorrow. Martha arrives tomorrow—at one o’clock. Isn’t that—”

“I know,” Prudence said. “I didn’t put it together until now, but we have that ultrasound appointment at one. There’s no way you can do both.”

Henry touched Prudence’s cheek. “I am not missing the ultrasound. Martha will just have to wait at the airport. She’ll be fine.”

Prudence caught Henry’s hand in hers. “I really want you there. Doctor Kate said it’s early for the first ultrasound, but given my history she said she’d feel a little better having it done. Guess I’m considered high risk.”

“I like the idea too. I can’t wait to see the baby.”

Prudence sighed. “How was your day? Get much done?”

Henry nodded. “Great. Great day. I got a lot done, and I came up with the perfect twist. A gold mine. I think Cash is going to discover gold.”

Prudence let go a small laugh. “That’s brilliant. And perfect
for the setting. There was a lot of gold mining going on in these parts.”

“I know,” Henry said. “Still is. I saw an advertisement for leasing a mine.”

Prudence shook her head. ‘No. Don’t even think about it. Too risky. And it takes years.”

“I know.” Henry settled back into the couch as Humphrey ambled by, asking for a second donut. “Mom will kill me but … okay.” He fed one to the dog and then handed one to Prudence.

“As long as Mom doesn’t think she’s driving into Sacramento by herself.”

“Just tell her no,” Prudence said.

Henry let go a nervous laugh.

By the time she got to town, it was four o’clock. Harriet parked the SUV, dropping the gearshift into park with a thud and a sigh. She checked her face in the rearview mirror and brushed her fingers through her hair. Oh well, good enough. She saw Win and Lily standing outside the bank, waiting. She was feeling mixed emotions. On the one hand she was glad that she finally heard from Win, but on the other hand she was feeling nervous since telling Florence Caldwell about it. It wasn’t that Florence had told her to run in the other direction, but she was not all that positive or enthusiastic either.

After taking two deep breaths, she started across the street. The closer she got the easier it was to see that Lily looked, well, a little slutty. She was wearing dark blue shorts that were so short and tight that a passerby could see way too much. Her white T-shirt was cut way too deep. But Harriet took solace in the fact that Lily wore a pair of bright yellow Chucks.

Of course, Harriet still did not like Lily’s tar-black hair. She wondered if she could talk Lily into letting her pay to have it brought back to its natural glory. If that was even possible.

“Hello there,” Harriet called with a quick wave.

Win turned his head in her direction. “Hey there, darlin’,” he called. Win gave Lily a look and then took her hand as they walked toward Harriet.

“Hi, Lily,” Harriet said.

Lily glanced first at Harriet and then locked her eyes on the street. “Hello, Mrs. Beamer.”

Harriet felt her brow wrinkle. “Now, what did we say about that? I want you to call me Harriet unless it’s just too hard. I know it can be—hard, that is—to refer to an elder by their first name.”

A smile crept across Lily’s face. “Okay, Harriet,” she said.

“Now ain’t that just so sweet,” Win said. “I’m glad to see the two of you gettin’ on so well.”

Lily sidled near Harriet and walked beside her.

“Well now, tell me about this … trommel, was it? And another sluice box?” Harriet said.

“I’ll be tickled to tell you all about it,” Win said, “but maybe we should step into this here coffee shop and talk.”

Harriet read the sign that hung by two chains over the door. Clancey Hannigan’s.

The trio took a small table after ordering their drinks. It was one of those places that didn’t have wait service. Just kids behind the counter, probably college students, who made coffee with pretty designs in the foam. Harriet’s was a gorgeous leaf design that she just hated to mess up. And somehow, one of the students managed to form a pretty sun shining in Lily’s. Her father had given her permission to drink coffee, thanks to Harriet’s urging.

“So tell me,” Harriet said after she sipped. She tried to sip at the edges and ever so carefully as to keep the design from shifting. But she knew it was short-lived.

Win on the other hand stirred his latte. And this made Lily shake her head and say, “You know, Pop, you got no class. No class at all. You don’t appreciate fine art.”

“Fine art? It’s coffee and milk foam. Art schmart. Now, if you ever saw those paintings they do on the black velvet, you know, of the Grand Canyon and Jesus, now that’s art.”

Harriet nearly choked on her foam.

“It’s garbage,” Lily said.

“Now, now,” Harriet said. “To each his own.”

“But you can’t be serious. Those paintings are not real art.”

“I agree. My friend Martha is an artist. Now, she does what I suppose you would call real art.”

Lily folded a piece of straw paper. “I do art. I like to draw.”

“And she’s pretty good,” Win said. “But I keep telling her that art is no way to make a living.”

“I’d like to see some of your drawing sometime,” Harriet said. “And I’m sure my friend Martha will. She’s the expert.”

Lily shrugged. “Maybe. I’m not very good.”

“I bet you are a good artist,” Harriet said, wondering why Lily’s father was not being more supportive.

“Any-hoo,” Harriet said, “I’m a little pressed for time, and if we are going to the bank … But I sure would like to learn more about gold mining.”

“Sorry, Harriet,” Win said. He glared at Lily, who had chosen to sit closer to Harriet.

“Sorry, Mrs. Beamer,” she said.

Harriet patted her hand. “It’s all right, dear.”

“Now let me tell you about trommels,” Win said.

Harriet smiled wide. It was like being let in on ancient secrets.

“A trommel is kind of like a washing machine, or a great big sifter. It turns”—he made a motion with his finger—“like this, sifting through tons of dirt and gravel. The heavier stuff, hopefully the gold, falls through the trommel into the box below.”

Harriet nodded her head. “I think I understand.”

Win sipped his coffee, leaving a bit of foam on his lip, which he wiped with his hand. “We already got one up on the site. We call
it the beast because it just does so much work. Sifts through tons of dirt and gravel.”

Once again the image of the giant flour sifter popped into Harriet’s mind.

“You see”—Win took a pen from his pocket and drew on a napkin—“it looks a little like this.” He drew an image of a machine with a large cylinder attached to some sort of rigging and motor. “Now, inside this here large tube are a bunch of screens and things that sort through the gravel and size the ore and pebbles and tiny rocks and things.”

Harriet understood the theory, but she really didn’t see how the machine could tell the difference between the gold and the ordinary rock.

Win scribbled a little more on the page and pointed to a box. “See here? That’s the sluice box. We run water through it and it washes off the ore and helps sort the gold. The bigger junk rocks are extracted and the gold stays in the sluice.”

“Then you just pick it out?” Harriet said.

“Yep. All there is to it.”

“It really is pretty simple,” Harriet said. “And I guess it beats kneeling by the river with a pan.”

“Hot diggety dog,” Win said. “You got that right. And I got the sore knees to show for it. Now, you just don’t worry your pretty little head over all this technical stuff. You let ol’ Winslow take care of that.”

Harriet looked at Lily. “How are you enjoying your latte, dear?”

“It’s good,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Are you sure you don’t want a treat, a small something to tide you over till dinnertime?” Harriet thought Lily looked too skinny. “A vanilla scone?”

“No, thank you. I’m fine. The coffee kind of took my appetite away.”

“As long as you’re sure. I saw they have cheesecake. I’d be happy to get you a slice, maybe with raspberries.”

Lily’s eyes widened. Harriet figured you could tell a lot about a person by how she reacted to cheesecake. Harriet reached into her bag and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. She pushed it into Lily’s hand. “Now you get a slice while your pop and I talk business.”

Lily glanced at Win. He nodded his head. “Maybe get it to go.”

“Good,” Harriet said, turning to Win as soon as Lily had left. “Now, how much do you think you need? And please, remember I have a grandchild on the way.”

“Well now,” Win said. “Ain’t that a blessing, just a doggone blessing. I’m happy for you. Do you know if it’s a grandson or granddaughter?”

Harriet finished her drink. “Not yet, and maybe my son and daughter-in-law will want to be surprised.”

Win reached across the table and took Harriet’s hand. He sniffed. “Well, I’ll just never forget the morning my Sally, God rest her soul, presented me with the most precious bundle of joy. My Lily. She was the prettiest little thing I had ever seen.” He took a breath. “Still gets me choked up.”