Harriet Beamer Strikes Gold (12 page)

Harriet’s thoughts turned to Max. “I guess maybe you’re more like your dad than I thought.”

“How’s that?”

“You both like to build things. With your daddy it was buildings. With you it’s seven-layer fudge cakes and Beef Wellington and cobbler. You probably would do very well in culinary school if that is what you decided to do.”

H
ARRIET COULD HARDLY SLEEP THAT NIGHT. SHE WAS
so excited for Martha’s arrival. She saw pretty much every hour on the digital clock until three when she must have finally dozed, because when she opened her eyes again it was nearly six-thirty.

She sat up, rousing Humphrey from his sleep. She figured Humphrey did not share in her sleeplessness. The hound could sleep through Armageddon if he wanted to.

She hurried to the kitchen to make coffee—for her and Henry. Prudence had sworn off coffee for the time being. Sandra Day, who was lapping water from her bowl, seemed in a rare good mood. She only hissed once at Humphrey, who then sat on his haunches and waited patiently until Her Majesty the Queen had eaten and sauntered off to visit the litter box.

Stupid cat. Humphrey chomped down his breakfast. At least I pee outside like a respectable animal.

Harriet made oatmeal because it was wholesome and comforting and there was a crispy chill in the air. And she remembered how oatmeal calmed her stomach when she was carrying Henry.

She checked the clock.

“Martha gets in at one o’clock,” she told Humphrey. “Can
you stand it? It took me almost a month to cross the country, like I was a pioneer, but she does it in about nine hours—given the layover.”

Humphrey swished his tail.

“I guess you’ll be happy to see her again too.”

Humphrey swished a second time and then let go a low woof when Harriet heard a light rap on the deck slider.

“Florence,” she said. “What’s she doing here so early?”

“Yoo-hoo,” Florence called. “Harriet!”

Harriet opened the slider. “Good morning. What brings you out so early?”

Florence walked past Harriet into the kitchen as Harriet closed the door.

“Henry asked me to stop by. He said you might need some company for the drive into Sacramento.”

Harriet nearly burst out loud laughing, but fortunately Henry appeared.

“Oh, hi,” he said.

“So what is this? Driving Miss Daisy?”

“Mom,” Henry said. “It was just an idea.”

“Not a very good one. I told you, I’m fine to go alone.” She turned to Florence. “No offense, dear, but you understand.”

“Of course,” Florence said. “I just want to help if I can.”

“I’m fine. You can just go on home. I’ll get to the airport and back with no help.”

“I’m sorry, Florence,” Henry said.

Florence shrugged. “No problem, sweetie. I’ll just get going. But I’m here if you change your mind.”

“Thank you,” Harriet said.

Harriet waited for the slider to click shut. “Henry, how could you? We’ve had this discussion.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Can we just drop it? I don’t want Prudence to hear us arguing again.”

“I made oatmeal and coffee,” Harriet said. “But, Henry, you really must trust me. I can drive to Sacramento. Easy peasy.”

“Coffee sounds good,” he said as he sat down at the kitchen table. “I didn’t sleep so well.”

“You look tired. Something on your mind?” As if she didn’t know.

Henry grunted.

“Thought so,” Harriet said. She poured coffee into Henry’s favorite mug. “I told you to stop worrying, but I guess that’s an impossible request. I bet you stayed awake all night staring at Prudence.”

Harriet placed the mug in front of him, and then poured a splash of Half and Half into it and stirred. “This will help. You have a big day. I think you should have oatmeal also.”

Henry sipped his coffee. “Ah gee, thanks, Mom, but I’m not hungry. My stomach—” He stopped talking.

“Then oatmeal is the perfect thing. It will settle your tummy, and you shouldn’t go to the hospital on an empty stomach. You don’t want to eat hospital cafeteria food.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll eat some oatmeal. But just a little. With brown sugar, raisins, and Half and Half.”

Harriet laughed. “Of course.”

Harriet prepared his breakfast and then joined him at the table. “Where is Prudence, anyway?”

“I left her in the bathroom. I guess she’s showering and dressing. She’ll be along.”

Harriet looked at her son. She suddenly saw him as a twelve-year-old boy sitting at the table back east. Baseball glove in one hand, corn dog in the other. And now, here he was a published author and soon to be a father. She let go a sigh and wished Max was still alive. Then she grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I love you.”

Henry swallowed. “I love you too, Mom. Can you believe it?
I think it’s finally going to happen this time. I’ve been so … so worried, you know, because—”

Harriet let go of his hand. “It’s time. And it’s time for you to believe it also. I think today is going to help you more than you’ll know.”

“You know, Mom, I have never prayed so much and so … so fervently over anything in my life.”

“I know. Just like your dad, except …”

“Except what?” Henry chewed his oatmeal.

“I’m just gonna say it, Henry. I think your father was a lunatic while I was pregnant with you. A sheer, sweet, loving lunatic. He wouldn’t let me carry the newspaper inside the house. I didn’t have to vacuum for six months, and the day you were born? He carried me into the hospital.”

Henry looked at Harriet. “So, what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, dear. Eat your breakfast.”

A few minutes later, Prudence joined them. She looked smart in jeans and a purple blouse.

“Good morning,” she said. She turned to her profile and showed off her tummy. “Are you sure there’s not something here?” She pulled her blouse tight.

“Um, come to see it,” Harriet said, “I think I see a small … bump.”

“Is that bad?” Henry said. “Is something wrong? It’s too soon, isn’t it?”

“No, no,” Harriet said. “Relax. Maybe really thin women show sooner.”

Prudence placed her hand on her stomach. “I thought so, Mother. I’m so excited. I can’t believe we’re going to see our baby today.”

“Sit, both of you,” Harriet said. “You need oatmeal in your stomach.”

“Don’t fight it, honey,” Henry said.

“But I don’t think I’m supposed to eat before the ultrasound.”

“Nonsense,” Harriet said. “You eat and drink. And then drink some more.”

“Are you sure?” Prudence asked.

“Did the doctor tell you to stop eating?” Harriet asked. “It’s just an ultrasound; it’s not major surgery.”

Prudence sat, and Harriet set a tumbler of milk in front of her. “I guess the oatmeal does sound good,” she said.

Henry patted Prudence’s hand. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“I’m just nervous. I don’t want there to be anything wrong.”

“There won’t be,” he said. And for the first time he believed it.

“That’s right,” Harriet said. “You are going to have a beautiful, healthy baby.”

Harriet placed a bowl of steaming oatmeal with raisins and brown sugar in front of Prudence. “I’m glad you’re here,” Prudence said.

Harriet needed to catch her breath. “Oh, so am I, dear. I am so glad I’m not back in Bryn Mawr sitting on the edge of the couch wondering how you are doing. I like being part of it all.”

Henry laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Harriet asked.

“No, no, I’m sorry, Mom. I just had a funny image of you sitting on the couch talking to your salt and pepper shakers, wringing your hands with worry.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” Harriet said. “And I figure as long as the salt and pepper shakers don’t start talking back, I’m doing fine.”

By eleven-thirty Harriet was ready to leave for Sacramento. She had chosen a lovely driving outfit. Light blue slacks, red Chucks, of course, a pretty pink blouse with a lacy, white collar.

“Drive carefully, Mom,” Henry said. “Call me when you get there. Remember, you can wait in the cell phone lot until she calls
you. They have boards with flight information so you’ll know just when her plane lands.”

“Henry,” called Prudence. “Let’s go.”

Harriet opened the tailgate and helped Humphrey into the back. “There you go,” she said.

Humphrey said, “Woof.”

She set the GPS in the SUV and waited until Henry had pulled the Beamer onto the street before she set off herself. She sailed a quick prayer that all would be well with the baby.

Harriet turned onto the Golden Chain Highway. Route 49. From there it seemed like a straight trip. It was the same route she had taken to Downieville, except the opposite direction. She had just settled back into the comfy seat for the longest part of the ride when her cell rang.

Remembering all the warnings Prudence and Henry delivered concerning cell phones while driving, Harriet pulled to the side and parked. Her first thought was that it could be Martha calling to say the flight was delayed or something.

The phone continued to jingle as she dug around in her purse. “Fool thing,” she said. “Where are you?”

She snagged it just in time. It was Win.

“Hello,” she said.

“Well, good mornin’ there, darlin’,” Win said. “I was just calling to give you an update.”

Harriet was amazed at how quickly her mind rolodexed through all the possible things he could mean. Maybe they struck it rich. Maybe the mine was dead.

“Oh boy,” Harriet said. “I hope it’s good news.”

Win coughed. “Let’s just say I got good news and I got bad news.”

“Well, tell me the bad news first,” Harriet said. “That way I can enjoy the good news longer. And hurry if you can, I’m on my way to the airport to pick up my friend.”

“Well, as it turns out, we’re gonna need to get an extra backhoe up to the site as soon as possible. We need to dig more gravel to get into the trommels.”

“The beast?” Harriet said. “You mean the beast?”

“That’s right, and now that we have two beasts it only makes sense that we should move more gravel. Gotta push a whole lot of bad dirt to get to the good.”

“Oh dear,” Harriet said. “I … I wish I could see this place in action. See some of this gravel and maybe even some of the gold. Have you gotten any out of the mine at all?”

Win coughed again. “Well, now, these things take time and lots of patience. But I suppose if you really want to traipse all the way up the mountain to the site, I guess we could arrange it—for another day, of course. I’d have to get a man down to help us drive up and then hike the rest of the way.”

Harriet swallowed. “Oh, I guess I’m not up for all that. And what with my girlfriend coming and all.”

“I don’t want you to worry. I’ll tell you what. I’ll have some more pictures taken and you and Lily can meet up and she can go over them with you. Would that help?”

Harriet sighed. “I guess so. It would be prudent, I suppose, to see the new equipment.”

“No trouble. How about if I have the men take some pictures and send them to Lily’s cell phone? And what do you say we all meet at the café around four o’clock?”

“No, not today,” Harriet said. “My friend is coming.”

“Oh yeah, you did mention that. Tomorrow then?” Win said.

“I’m not sure. I’ll let you know.”

Harriet tapped off the phone without asking Win about the good news. The bad news was enough. She would address that tomorrow. For now she had to get Martha.

The remaining ride into the city was uneventful and the airport was easy enough to find. She simply followed the signs to
the cell phone lot, found a spot with an ample view of the arrivals board, and waited for Martha to call. She called Henry. They were still waiting for the technician. “I’m here, darling, safe and sound. Not a scratch on me, the car, or Humphrey.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Henry said.

Harriet laughed. “Have a good ultrasound. We’ll see you at home.”

Humphrey barked. “You got that right. In my day we waited inside the airport at the gate like people, human beings,” she told Humphrey who had managed to get into the backseat. “We weren’t worried about terrorists and bombs.”

Martha’s flight landed on time. Now all she had to do was wait. The plan was that Martha would call once she got her bags and Harriet would only have to drive up and get her. But when thirty minutes passed after the flight had landed, Harriet worried. Martha should have made it to baggage claim by then.

She waited another five minutes before ringing Martha’s cell. No answer. She called six times and still no answer. She checked her messages and recent calls. She checked for smoke signals. Nothing from Martha. She was certain she had the correct day and time. Where on earth was Martha?

Her heart pounded. She turned to Humphrey. “Oh dear, what if something happened? Where is she?

“I’ll call Henry. He’ll know what to do. No, I don’t want them to worry. Not today. She’ll call.”

Henry and Prudence waited patiently in the waiting room. Prudence couldn’t hold another drop of water without bursting.

“I’m completely water-logged,” she said. “I have to pee.”

“But you can’t. Not until after the ultrasound.”

“I know. I know. But come on. My appointment was ten minutes ago.”

Henry spied another pregnant woman across the room—extremely pregnant. She was smiling at them like she knew something they didn’t know. Henry smiled back.

“Our first,” he called.

“I can tell,” the woman said. “My fifth.”

“Yikes,” Prudence said. “Congratulations.”

The woman only nodded before she was called back into the examination area.

Henry watched her work her way out of the seat. By the time he thought to help, she was out.

“Oh dear,” Prudence said.

“You get used to it,” the woman said. “You get used to
all
of it.”

Henry opened a magazine. “Look at this,” he said, trying to distract Prudence. “It’s about a woman who grew a seventy-five-pound potato.”

“No, it’s not. It’s about a woman who rode her bike seventy-five miles to return a library book.”

“Yeah well, I like the potato story better. I wish they’d hurry.”

“Me too. My bladder is going to explode.” Then Prudence laughed. “I think I know how Humphrey feels sometimes. I have new sympathy for him.”

“I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear it.”

“And come to think of it,” Prudence said, “we need to find a bakery when we’re finished. I need more donuts. Glazed donuts. And they need to be warm.”

Henry swallowed. “Sure, honey. Anything you want.”