Harriet Beamer Strikes Gold (17 page)

T
HE NEXT FEW DAYS WHIZZED BY.
H
ARRIET AND
M
ARTHA
did some sightseeing, including the Empire Gold Mine, which Martha found to be “educational and impressive.” Win had not called asking for more money, which made Harriet happy. But she also realized he still had never given her copies of the papers she signed.

Henry took a break from his writing schedule to get things ready for the builders. He cleared the side yard of some rocks and dug out Humphrey’s second favorite bush.

“Don’t worry, old man,” Henry told him. “We’ll replant it.”

Henry had never seen Humphrey look so despondent. It was like he had lost his best friend. But then again, he had never seen a dog look so jubilant when he dug the hole out back for the rhododendron.

Prudence weathered several bouts of morning sickness, but she still looked after her garden and the house, catching up on laundry and general housework. Florence Caldwell, whom Harriet had come to think of as simply nosey after all, came by with a batch of brownies. The kind Henry loved, with walnuts.

All in all Sunday morning arrived with peace and tranquility. But, as Harriet sipped coffee with Martha in the kitchen, she admitted that she really didn’t want to go to church.

“I’m tired,” she told Martha.

“Now, now,” Martha said. “I think we should go. It’s good for the kids, and from the sound of it you haven’t been attending church much.”

“I know. It’s the congregation,” Harriet said. “I don’t believe there is a person over forty, except for Mr. Marsden, and he’s so old I think he might have dated Cleopatra.”

“I’ll be with you today,” Martha said. “Let’s go.”

So off they went, a little late on account of Prudence moving a little slowly. They all went in the BMW. Harriet thought Henry looked so proud he might burst his buttons.

They no sooner walked into the lobby when Harriet was asked to fill in at the nursery. Harriet clasped Martha’s hand. “I knew it.”

Geraldine Tubman told Harriet that little Gerry had been throwing up a lot lately.

“Now, he’s not sick. Doctor said he just has a sensitive tummy.”

Harriet took Gerry from Mrs. Tubman. “Oh, it’s okay. Have you tried oatmeal? Good for an upset tummy.”

Mrs. Tubman only smiled. She kissed Gerry’s cheek. “Now, Mommy will be back right after the service.”

“He’ll be fine,” Harriet said.

“You bet,” Martha said. “We’re a couple of old pros.”

Harriet sat Gerry in a crib and gave him a pat on the head and a toy. “Sometimes nervous mommies make babies’ bellies nervous.”

The hour and fifteen minutes went quickly. Harriet and Martha enjoyed the children. Martha especially enjoyed building block towers and knocking them down.

“We just heard,” said Sally Roberts after the service, a young professional woman with one child, two-year-old Scotty. “It’s wonderful news.”

Harriet handed over Scotty once Sally signed him out like he was a library book. Harriet understood the need for security, but
she appreciated that in her days as a young mother people were more trusting. There wasn’t the need for security cameras in church—especially church.

“It is wonderful,” Harriet said. “I couldn’t be happier. Thank you.”

“And Prudence is radiant,” Sally added. “And twins. A double blessing.”

As the kudos and blessings came in, Harriet smiled about as wide as all outdoors. It was terrific news, and she deserved to feel every bit as proud as she was feeling.

“Praise the Lord,” said Terri Higley. “I know it’s been a rough go for them.”

And so it went until all the children had been safely delivered back into the care of their parents. She and Martha joined Prudence and Henry in Fellowship Hall where they enjoyed a cup of coffee with a hint of Irish Cream, a lemon Danish, and the continued congratulations of nearly everyone they saw.

Prudence and Henry seemed to be enjoying the attention also. And from across the room Harriet did notice that it was true, Prudence was absolutely radiant, especially when a ray of sunlight burst through one of the windows and shone directly on her, signaling her out for all to notice. Harriet basked in Prudence’s radiance.

But soon enough, the sun ray was gone, the crowd had thinned, and they were on their way home.

“That was kind of fun,” Prudence said. “I’m not used to being in the spotlight without a jury bearing down on me.”

“It was nice,” Henry said. “I’m so proud of you.”

“And I’m proud of you,” Prudence said. “You looked so … so fatherly when you collected the offering.”

“Thank you, honey,” Henry said.

Harriet grabbed Martha’s hand. “Such a cute couple.”

“But now,” Henry said looking into the rearview mirror, “we get back to reality. The builders are starting tomorrow.”

“I know,” Harriet said. “I am just … just all atwitter. I can’t wait to hear the hammers fly.”

Martha laughed so hard Harriet thought she might have laid an egg. “What’s so funny?”

“Can’t wait to hear the hammers fly?”

“All right, all right,” Harriet said. “I suppose that was a little corny. I guess I just mean I can’t wait to hear the sounds of building going on.”

Martha patted Harriet’s knee. “I know. I know.”

“I can’t say I’m not a little nervous about the commotion and disruption,” Henry said.

“That is true,” Prudence said, “since you work at home and all.”

“At least the building will be happening outside. Should be a little less disruptive,” Martha said.

“Well, I am really looking forward to it,” Prudence said. “Aren’t you, Mother?” Harriet was looking out the window at the passing trees and the lovely view of the mountains. Everywhere she looked in Grass Valley there was a view. A place to lock her eyes and look. It was a pretty place.

“I certainly am,” she said.

Harriet snuggled back into the seat. She was happy. A far cry away from how she felt just over a week ago, all sulky and wishing she had never left Pennsylvania. And why not? She was going to be a grammy, have her own addition, was part lessee of a gold mine about to strike, and her best friend was sitting next to her. What else did she need?

She couldn’t help but smile when the car hit a bump. God’s pleasure. She often felt God’s pleasure on bumpy roads. She wondered why that was.

Sunday quickly slipped into Monday morning, and Harriet was awakened by the sound of the builders. Mostly, she heard talking
and the sound of truck engines. She pulled on the same pants she had worn the day before, the same shirt, and then slipped into an older pair of Chucks without socks.

She tossed a small pillow at Martha’s bed. “Wake up,” she called. “Today’s the day.”

Martha roused from her sleep. “What?”

“The builders are here. Let’s go.”

Martha rolled over. “You go. I want to rest awhile.”

“Suit yourself,” Harriet said.

Harriet brushed her teeth, mouth washed, ran a brush through her hair, which she decided needed a cut, and dashed outside.

Henry was talking to a tall, thin woman who was deeply tanned and gorgeous. Her hair was the color of sunshine, and her teeth were so white Harriet figured they could help guide the space shuttle in for a landing.

“Oh, oh,” Henry said. “Here she is now.”

“Hi,” Harriet said, stepping over a small bush.

“It’s so nice to meet you.” The tall woman shook Harriet’s hand. “My name is Daisy Day.” She spoke with a southern accent, which Harriet found charming.

“And this, of course, is my mother, Harriet Beamer,” Henry said with his arm around Harriet’s shoulders.

“You designed my new Grammy Suite?” Harriet asked.

Daisy nodded. “I sure did. Well, me and Daisy. She’s off inspecting another job at the moment. But she’ll be by in just a tiddly wink. I hope ya’ll like it.”

“But aren’t you Daisy?”

“Yes, that’s right. But so is Daisy. Daisy Knight. She’s been my ever-lovin’ best friend since kindergarten. Both named Daisy. Isn’t that just a scream?”

“Yes,” Harriet said. “A scream.” She looked at the bright yellow pick-up in the driveway with the words, Day and Knight, Two
Daisies Design, painted across the door in purple. Henry hadn’t quite told her the correct name of their business.

“What a cute name.” She said the words, but she also thought that builders this cute could not possibly know what they were doing.

Daisy looked at her clipboard and then back to Harriet. “Henry told us his daddy was a builder, so you must know plenty about building. I guess we’ll need to work a little extra careful, now won’t we?”

Harriet didn’t quite know how to respond.

“But you just don’t worry your pretty little heart over it.”

“I’m not worried,” Harriet said. Yes, she was.

“Good. Good. But if you catch us using the wrong nail, you be sure to tell us, or if you don’t want us to rabbet the lintels, well, that’s okay too. You just holler.”

Of course she wanted them to rabbet her lintels. It was the only proper way to build a doorjamb. Or so she thought. It was hard to tell with this Daisy. She was a fast and smooth talker.

“Well, it was nice to meet you,” Harriet said. “I’m certain the addition will be spectacular.”

“Oh, it will,” Daisy said.

“Except,” Harriet said, “I was looking at the plans and—”

“Mother,” Henry said. “The design is complete.”

“All I was going to say was that I would like it if you could include several built-in shelves for my collection.”

“I thought you’d just buy a cabinet or something,” Henry said.

“I could. I could. But wouldn’t it be nice to have shelves, floor to ceiling, built right in?”

Daisy screwed up her mouth. “I don’t think that would be a problem. And we certainly don’t need to make that decision today.”

“Right,” Harriet said. “And I was also wondering if you could put a nice, deep sink in the powder room. Since that’s my only running water. I’d like a place to work with my pots.”

“Excuse me?” Daisy said. “Pot?”

Harriet laughed. “No, no, dear, pots. I raise African Violets.”

“Oh, certainly,” Daisy said. “That’s not a problem.”

“Why thank you, dear. Now I’ll just leave you to your work. I don’t want to interfere.”

“Nice to meet you,” Daisy said.

Harriet smiled wide. “And you too.”

Harriet left Henry with Daisy and went to the kitchen where she found Humphrey near his water bowl, looking like he had lost his best friend. “What’s the matter with you?” Harriet asked. “You aren’t jealous of Martha, are you?”

Humphrey let go a soft woof. A woof that usually meant he was hungry and hungry for donuts. But Harriet thought he had had quite enough recently.

“It’s kibble for you this morning,” she said.

“Here you go.” She filled his dish with the small brown pellets. He gulped them down like a nervous Nellie.

“Uh oh,” Harriet said. “Are you anxious about something? You always gulp your food when you’re upset.”

And that was when Sandra Day sauntered into view.

“The cat,” she said. “That darn cat.”

Harriet patted Humphrey’s head. “Well, don’t you worry too much. In just a few weeks we’ll have our own place. No cats allowed.”

“No cats?” It was Martha.

“Good morning,” Harriet said. “Yes. No cats in the Grammy Suite.”

“Capital idea,” Martha said with a yawn.

“Coffee?” Harriet said.

“Please. And what is that noise?”

Harriet stopped to listen. “Oh, that sweet melody is the sound of a backhoe firing up. They’ll be digging the foundation today. They already have the area marked off and cleaned up.” She
poured water into the coffeemaker to make some more. Henry had already emptied the carafe.

“That’s nice,” Martha said as she sat down at the table.

Harriet smiled. The sound of the backhoe brought back a quick slideshow of memories for Harriet. She would often go to one of the building sites where Max worked. She did learn a lot, and she believed she had every right in the world to keep a close look on the addition construction. After all, she thought again, it was more than likely the last home she’ll ever have. It was still a sobering and sad thought.

“Well, Humphrey, when we strike it rich, we’ll just have to go on another adventure. Maybe to Europe or Australia.”

Martha coughed.

“Don’t be so … pessimistic,” Harriet said. “The mine is going to strike. Any day now.”

“I really hope it does,” Martha said. “But I think you should be prepared. How much money are you planning on losing?”

Harriet did not appreciate Martha’s comment. She had never given a thought to a gold mine budget. “I don’t know, but I can’t quit now.”

“Quit what?” asked Henry, closing the deck slider.

Harriet shot Martha a glance as if to say, “Tell him and die.”

“Collecting salt and pepper shakers,” Harriet said.

“Well, why would you do that? In a few weeks you can display them all.”

“I know,” Harriet said. She thought about saying something else, but that would just be extending the lie even more. So as usual she changed the subject.

“How about bacon and eggs?” she asked.

“Sounds good.” He sat down at the table to wait for the coffee. “How did you sleep, Martha?”

“Fine,” she said.

“Listen,” Henry said. “I’ve been thinking about Wyatt. I’m going to write to him. But I don’t want to say anything I shouldn’t.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. The prison censors will take care of that.”

“Censors? Wow. I’ve never been censored in all my years of writing.”

“You’d be surprised what they consider dangerous or provocative or sensitive.”

“Well, I’m still going to write to him.”

“Thank you,” Martha said. “I know he’ll appreciate hearing from you.”

After breakfast, Harriet cleaned up the kitchen while Martha showered and dressed and Henry got ready to slink into his cave for a day of cattle rustling.

“Do good writing,” Harriet said.

Henry kissed Harriet’s cheek. “Thanks, Mom. You have a good day too. Do you and Martha have plans?”

“Not sure. I think first I want to take Humphrey for a nice long walk and then maybe do a little housework. I know Prudence hasn’t been feeling well, and I don’t want her to have to work too hard when she gets home.”