Hidden History (10 page)

Alice laughed. “I’ll bet he had the time of his life, too.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re right about that.”

“The next time you see your brother, please give him my best.”

“Of course. I’m sure he’ll be interested to hear about my visit and the way of life here in Acorn Hill.”

“I’m sure he’ll think it is quite tame compared to the lifestyle he’s accustomed to.”

“Sometimes tame is very welcome. I’m falling in love with your little town. Just this morning, the owner of that darling little fabric shop was encouraging me to take up quilting.”

“That’s Sylvia Songer,” said Alice.

“Right. Sylvia’s Buttons. Then there’s that woman in the bookstore with all the cats. What a hoot. She was trying to get me interested in some seventeenth-century biography—not exactly my thing.”

“That would be Viola Reed. She’s quite a character. Believe it or not, she and Louise have the same taste in literature.”

“I guess I better not let Louise catch me saying anything negative about Viola’s books.”

Alice smiled as she stood. “It’s been nice talking with you, Susan, but I’ve got to get up early tomorrow. I’m glad you’re enjoying your visit.”

“Yes, I think I’ll have to make Grace Chapel Inn a regular event. Maybe I’ll bring Tom next time.” She chuckled. “Or not. He might not appreciate it the same way that I do.”

“Acorn Hill is an acquired taste,” said Alice. Then she told Susan good night and went inside.

Other than the night lights that they always left on for guests, the house was dark and still. Alice tiptoed up the stairs, assuming that both her sisters had already turned in for the evening.

“Alice?”

She turned to see Jane coming up the stairs behind her. “Oh, Jane. I thought you’d gone to bed.”

“I was just finishing up a batch of muffins for breakfast tomorrow.”

“I thought I smelled something delicious coming from the kitchen.”

“Cranberry-orange muffins. Go get yourself one before bed if you like. They’re nice and warm right now.”

“Tempting, but I better pass.”

“Did the board meeting run this late?” asked Jane when they had reached the third floor.

“No, I was just out on the porch, watching the moon and getting better acquainted with Susan.”

“Did she mention Mark?”

Alice laughed quietly. “Oh, Jane, you make too much of that.”

“He was your beau, Alice. Sometimes I think that there’s a story that you’re holding back—a story that a sister should share with her sister.”

“Oh, the old guilting-the-sister trick, Jane. Really, I thought you were above that sort of emotional blackmail.”

Jane chuckled. “Well, it was worth a shot.”

“Nice try. Now, if you’ll excuse me I really am exhausted. Six o’clock seems to be coming earlier than ever these days.”

After Alice finished her prayers and nightly Scripture reading, she was unable to go to sleep. It felt as if thoughts and memories of Mark Graves were haunting her. She tossed and turned and tried not to look at the clock. Even when she did finally fall asleep, her old beau intruded on her dreams and not in a pleasant way. The dreams were confused and backwards and nothing made a bit of sense.

Chapter Eight

A
lice was happy to see her workweek come to an end as she signed out on Thursday at noon. It was nice to know she had three and a half days to do just as she pleased—to an extent. She buttoned her sweater against the chilly breeze and hurried across the hospital parking lot to her little blue Toyota. She planned to swing by Vera’s on her way home. Fred had called from the hardware store to let her know that Vera had not felt well enough to go to school in the morning.

“I’m sorry, Fred,” she had told him from the phone at the nurse’s station. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Well, I hate to bother you at work, Alice, but I’m really worried about her.”

“What can I do?”

“That’s the problem. I don’t have the slightest clue. I just thought I’d let you know that she’s home and not feeling so hot.”

“I’ll pop in and see her as soon as my shift ends, Fred. Today is my half day.”

“Thanks, Alice. You have no idea how much I appreciate that.”

Alice found Vera resting on the couch. She looked pale and weak. Alice could see why Fred was so worried. She encouraged Vera to have some herbal tea and a piece of toast.

“You’ve got to keep your strength up, Vera.”

“I don’t know how. It seems all I can keep down these days is a little lukewarm tea and dry toast.”

Alice sat down on the chair beside the couch.

“Oh, Alice, why can’t the doctors figure out what I’m dealing with? I feel so certain that it is cancer.”

Alice reached for Vera’s hand. “None of the tests show any signs of cancer, Vera. You need to think more positively.”

“I know. I know. But it’s hard to feel positive about anything right now. I can’t believe I’m stuck here on this stupid couch while a substitute teacher is probably winning over my fifth graders during their first month back at school.”

“Oh, Vera. No one can possibly win over your fifth graders. You know how much they always love you. They always cry about having to leave at the end of the year.”

Vera waved her hand, dismissing the idea.

“I think we should pray,” said Alice as she bowed her head. “Dear Heavenly Father, You made Vera and You know exactly what’s wrong with her. I pray that You will
help her to get well and help the doctors to figure this thing out. In the meantime, I pray that You will give her the patience to endure this trial. Amen.”

“Thanks, Alice. I can see why you’re such a good nurse. I always feel better after you’ve been here.” She smiled. “Maybe I could go to work tomorrow.”

“Don’t count on it, dear. Besides, we’ve got those tests tomorrow.”

“Yes, well, maybe by Monday.”

“Finish your tea, Vera. I’ll be by to pick you up tomorrow at nine to go to the hospital.”

“I feel bad making you go to the hospital on your day off, Alice.”

“Nonsense. I love the hospital, and taking you isn’t the same as working anyway. If you’re feeling well enough we might even stop for a bowl of soup on our way home. Remember not to eat or drink anything after ten o’clock tonight.”

“Thanks, Dr. Alice.”

Alice smiled and squeezed her hand. “You’re going to be just fine.”

Alice did believe that Vera would be just fine and that whatever was plaguing her would soon disappear. Still she prayed as she drove home and parked her car next to the house.

Two new guests were just registering at the front desk when she walked in.

“This is my other sister Alice,” said Louise. “Meet the Parkers, Alice. They drove all the way up from Charleston, South Carolina.”

“Goodness, that’s quite a distance,” said Alice. “What brings you up here?”

“My wife thought we were going to see some fall foliage,” said Mr. Parker in a sharp voice. “Seems she was wrong.”

“It is a bit early for a lot of color,” said Alice. “But I’ve noticed some things are beginning to turn.”

Mrs. Parker looked a bit embarrassed. “I guess I got my facts mixed up. I thought this area would be at its peak by now.”

“Every year is a bit different,” said Alice. “There have been times when the colors are looking quite beautiful by now, but we’ve had a late summer this year.”

“I told you that you should’ve asked,” said Mr. Parker. “But you were so certain that you were right.”

“I just thought—”

“Just thought,” said her husband. “That’s the trouble. You need to do more than think.”

Louise and Alice exchanged looks, and Louise cleared her throat. “It is possible that the color is better up north,” she said in a firm voice.

“I’m sick of driving,” said Mr. Parker. “The only thing I want to be driving is a golf ball. Do you have any good courses around here?”

Louise took some brochures from the front desk and handed them to him. “There are several advertised in these.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Alice, wanting to escape this couple and fix herself some lunch. “I hope you two will enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you,” said Mrs. Parker. “It seems to be a lovely place.”

“Is there a bathroom in our room?” barked Mr. Parker.

“Yes,” Louise assured him as Alice ducked down the back hall that led to the kitchen.

Alice found Jane chopping celery. “Did you meet the Parkers?” she asked in a soft voice.

Jane chuckled. “Yes, I had the pleasure of their acquaintance.”

“Mrs. Parker seems sweet.”

“That man makes me want to scream.”

Alice nodded as she looked in the refrigerator. “He’s the kind who makes you thankful to be single.”

“If he snipes at his wife one more time, I might have to slap him.”

“I can just see the headlines in the
Acorn Nutshell,”
said Alice as she took some leftover pasta salad from the refrigerator.
“Renowned Chef of Grace Chapel Inn Assaults Guest.” She held the bowl up. “Mind if I finish this?”

“That’s what it’s for.”

Alice told Jane about her visit with Vera as she ate her lunch.

“I thought perhaps I’d make something to take over to them for dinner tonight,” said Alice as she rinsed her bowl.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” said Jane. “I’ll just make enough of this chicken soup for them and we can put in that extra loaf of bread and—”

“Yoo-hoo,”
called Ethel from the back porch, “come see what I brought you.”

Jane and Alice went out to the back porch to see Ethel setting down a box of apples. “Lloyd and I took a lovely drive out in the country this morning and we discovered the best little produce stand. Can you believe these apples were picked just this morning?” She leaned over and smelled them.

“They look just beautiful, Aunt Ethel,” said Jane. “Thank you.”

“I got a box for me and one for you girls. I think I’ll make applesauce with mine. I haven’t made applesauce in years.”

Jane picked up an apple to examine it closer. “I think I’ll bake up a couple of pies. We can send one over to Fred and Vera.”

“How is poor Vera?” asked Ethel.

“Not too well,” said Alice, giving her aunt the details while Jane filled a colander with apples to take into the kitchen.

“That’s too bad,” said Ethel. She looked into the laundry room. “Goodness sakes, it looks different in here. What’s changed?”

“Well, for starters, Alice cleaned it up,” said Jane.

“Oh, I know that.”

“Then I painted these shelves,” said Jane as she ran her hand across the smooth sage green surface. “And I made some new curtains too.” She pointed at the homespun plaid fabric in shades of green, rust and gold.

“Well, it looks right pretty in here,” said Ethel. “Who would’ve thought you could make a laundry look so pretty.”

“What is going on out here?” called Louise from the kitchen. “Are you ladies doing the laundry?”

“Auntie brought us some apples,” said Jane as she carried the colander into the kitchen and set it on the maple counter.

“Very nice,” said Louise as she glanced at the rosy-cheeked apples. “But I am in serious need of a cup of tea right now.”

“I just put the kettle on,” said Alice. “It should be ready any minute.”

“Jane, do you have any of those ginger biscotti left?” asked Louise.

“I most certainly do.” She reached for the jar. “Aunt Ethel, would you care to join us?”

“Oh, maybe for just a bit. You know it’s Bingo night tonight, and I promised Lloyd that I’d come early to help.”

“That man is about to drive me crazy,” said Louise as she sat down at the kitchen table.

“What can you possibly mean?” sputtered Ethel. “What on earth has Lloyd done?”

Louise waved her hand. “Not Lloyd, Aunt Ethel. I mean one of our guests. I suppose I should watch my tongue, but he is the sort of man who gives a bad name to his gender.”

Ethel laughed. “Then you couldn’t possibly be speaking of Lloyd.” Then she leaned forward with fresh interest. “Who is this guest, Louise, and what has he done to ruffle your feathers so?”

“He is just a big, loud-mouthed brute,” said Louise as she reached for a piece of biscotti. “The man is rude and picks on his poor wife. Quite frankly, I wish he would go back to where he came from, or perhaps just fall into a deep hole somewhere.”

“Louise,” said Alice in a quiet voice. “Don’t forget we’re called
Grace
Chapel Inn. We can’t exactly go around throwing our guests out on the street.”

“Unfortunately, you are right.” Louise took a sip of tea.

“Especially at times like this when we’re not fully booked,” warned Jane. “And don’t forget that we’ve still got one room that’s vacant this weekend. We need every paying guest we can find.”

“I think I would rather live on beans and rice than put up with obnoxious boors like that Mr. Parker,” said Louise in a hushed voice, as if he might have been listening at the door.

Ethel frowned and shook her head. “Well, I suppose that even the obnoxious boors need to be loved.”

Everyone paused to look at her. It was such an un Ethel-like thing to say. “You’re absolutely right, Auntie,” Alice finally said as she patted her aunt’s soft arm. “That sounds just like something that Father would say.”