Moving On (8 page)

“And if I don’t do the windows and insulation?”

“You can stay here from March to perhaps the end of October but then you would have to close her up and vacation somewhere warm. That’s what a lot of folks around here do.” He drained his cup and ate a cracker with cheese, then stood. “I have to get back to the store. When you’ve made your decision, drop by and I’ll do some real fine tuning.” He pocketed his calculator, pencil, and note pad.

“Thank you for everything, George. Now I have some concrete information with which to make some decisions.” She closed the mesh door, then flung it open. “I didn’t pay you for the wood.”

“I’ll set up an account for you at the store. Drop by next time you’re downtown and we’ll take your money,” he called as he navigated down the stone steps.

No credit card numbers, just her word she’d pay. How much was that worth?
She didn’t have to make the decision today or tomorrow. She had time to think about the type of renovation she’d like for her future.
The realization was a comfort.

Bright and early the next morning, Anna drove to the post office and copied down the list of sales. Her street map lay unfolded on the seat.

At yard sales, she looked for pieces of cloth to turn into carpet, and bits of paper to decorate walls, her imagination open to any possibilities.

Nick’s truck was parked on a street with a sign ‘advertising a sale’ taped to the tailgate. She parked and scanned the area for Molly. Neither man nor beast was visible. She found brass candlestick holders, and a small chandelier with glass prisms.

“How much for these items, please?” she asked the man sitting beside a cash box.

“Did you read the sign? It says I don’t dicker, so pay the price on the sticker, and it is yours.”

“Oh, I don’t want to barter, I was wondering if this was the correct price. It seems very reasonable.” She brought out her change purse and counted out four dollars.

“Are you saying they are worth more?” He picked up the money and sorted it into the appropriate slots.

“They’re beautiful pieces. It must be hard to part with them.”

“I have to clean out. I’m moving into the Wrinkle Ranch. All day I’ve been afraid of selling something and then later seeing it on the Antiques Road Show for thousands of dollars.” His eyes squinted and his jaw worked back and forth. “You’re not one of those antique pickers, are you? I haven’t seen you around before.”

“No, I’m not a picker. I moved onto Green Avenue.” She wrapped the candlesticks in some tissue stacked on the table.

“Oh, John Good’s house. So are you going to put in the new windows and stay awhile?” He handed her a brown shopping bag for the chandelier.

“I haven’t decided.” She clung to the handles of the bag.

He tore newspaper pages in half and folded them. “Just wondering. John had planned on changing those windows this year so he could stay at least until Christmas and then go south.”

Anna looked around. She was alone at the sale. “Were you friends with John?”

“No. We just played pool together at the Senior Center on Wednesdays.”

“Who won?”

“One week I did and the next he did. We sort of worked it out that way.”

“Sounds fair.”

“When you have five bucks riding on the game it has to be fair.” He smiled.

A car with four women pulled up. The doors flew open. The women shot out and ran to the tables. “I’ve been waiting for that group to come. You’re lucky you were here first, they can clean a table in minutes, if you have what they want.” He stood and rubbed his hands together.

“Thank you for these treasures. If I ever end up on the Antiques Road Show with either of them, I’ll let you know.”

“Don’t do it unless you’re ready to split the profit. The name’s Elmer Zeigler if you need to find me.” He extended his hand.

She clasped his hand and shook it. “Agreed.”

Laughter erupted from behind her. Elmer hollered over, “I put that there just for you, Eva. I knew you would get the joke.”

Anna returned home with a collection of treasures. Later Margaret came and went, skirting around without asking directly about George’s conclusion. Nick was elusive, only muttered rumbles seeping between the new leaves from behind the hedge. Anna kept her counsel.

In the evening she walked to the ice cream parlor, first heading up Center Street. She stopped at the local real estate office and scanned the properties listed for sale. With comparisons she could guesstimate the value of her property.

Anna returned waves and greetings from people walking, riding bicycles and driving past her. When she returned home she retrieved an old chaise lounge from the basement and carried it to the lawn to enjoy the sun setting into the water’s edge. The birds settled in for the night. Music from a neighbor’s stereo skimmed along the gardens and bushes. She pulled the hood of her sweater over her hair and waited for the stars to shine. The Northern Star shone first and brightest.

Before she went to bed, she telephoned her parents and invited them for a visit.

As the days passed, Anna changed what little things she could. She cleaned the chandelier and hung it under the eave on the back deck. She raked and threw topsoil and seeds into the side lawn. She propped the ladder against the house and washed each window. And every morning after nine she drove out to the pile of rocks and brought one or two back home for her garden.

The day her parents were due, Herman asked, “What time do they arrive?”

“Their plane lands around five in the afternoon,” she said. “They’ll pick up the rental car and be here just after six. It seems like forever since I’ve seen them. I have steaks and salads for dinner. I also have the marshmallows, chocolate and graham crackers for our dessert around the fire pit in your backyard.”

“We’ll learn a little more about you tonight,” Herman foretold with his toothless grin.

“I’m enjoying being a mystery woman,” Anna bantered. “I’m being me. But this weekend is about my parents. It will be nice for them to see I’m fitting in and creating a support system.”

In the cottage, Anna watched out the window. When a gray car approached the driveway, she flung open the summer door and ran down the steps. Peter and Susan Jenkins had arrived.

Anna waited for her mother to exit the car and they clung to each other. Her father came around and joined in a family embrace.

“You two look fabulous. A cruise obviously suits you,” Anna exclaimed.

“You’re tanned.” Her mother held her at arms’ length.

“Wait until you see why.” Anna reached for a small case and her father carried another as they followed her up the stairs and into the back yard.

“It’s a mini park,” her mother said.

“It’s cared for but not manicured to within a blade of its life. Who’s doing all the work?” her father wondered.

“
Moi
.” Anna twirled around. “Google and YouTube ‘how to’ videos are great teachers as well as my neighbors, of course. Wait until you see the indoors.” She picked up the case and held open the door. “Tada!”

The black and white tiles gleamed in the afternoon sunlight. The loveseat facing the large windows to the lake invited moments of contemplation. The oversize chair with a reading lamp and a stack of books indicated relaxation.

Her father looked around. “No fifty-two-inch TV? What am I going to do all weekend?”

“Dad.” Anna hugged him. “Follow me and I’ll show you to your room.”

“The cottage is larger than it appears from the outside,” her mother noted as she followed.

“I filled the propane tank, so the barbeque and the marinated steaks are ready for your magic touch, Dad.” They set the cases down. “I’ll give you time to clean up and I’ll meet you on the deck with a nice cold drink.”

In the kitchen she placed a bucket of ice with white wine and beer along with the appropriate glasses, a few grapes, cubes of cheese, and crackers on a tray. Her parents were here in her home. Anna did a small slap-kick before she braced open the door and then carried the tray to the picnic table.

The late May breeze ruffled the lavender tablecloth and the fringes on the umbrella. She poured herself a glass of white wine and waited for her parents to join her. The instrumental music from her stereo drifted through the open windows. Trail bike engine sounds stuttered from the trail along the lake.

While the grill heated they talked about her parents’ cruise, then Anna’s garden and lawns.

“You have color, your hair is longer. I think you’ve even gained some muscle definition,” her mother said.

“I’ve hauled most of those rocks from the rock pile to the car all by myself. I rolled, pushed or carried them up the steps, then placed them in the most artistic fashion.” Anna flexed her biceps.

“The pioneers worked through their losses, too,” her sociology-professor father remarked.

“It’s the work, the newness of the community. And time, of course. I’m remembering the good times Murray and I shared, rather than those last days when I tried everything I knew to help him survive.” Anna blinked rapidly and took a deep breath. “I know now that his injuries were too severe.”

She twirled her wine glass. “I don’t think anyone in this community knows about the accident. I haven’t mentioned it. They’re trying to find the links between me and Mr. Good. It’s become a game with Margaret and her walking group.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting the Lambs. You’ve told us great stories in your emails.” Her mother stood. “I’m starving.”

“The barbecue’s all warmed up.” Her father opened the door. “I’ll get the steaks.”

“I’ll mix the Caesar salad. The pasta salad is ready. We’ll have s’mores for dessert with Herman and Margaret, if that works for you.” Anna held the door for her dad. He had found one of the aprons she had discovered in the linen closet and slung it over his head. “Dad, the butterflies look good on you. Allow me to tie a pretty bow.”

“Pete, should we eat in or out?” Her mother asked with plates in her hand.

“I’m easy.”

“You haven’t had a chance to enjoy the indoors, so I suggest the dining room table. The view of the lake is always entertaining.” Anna led the way.

The fragrance of burning logs slipped into the kitchen while they cleaned up the dinner dishes. “Herman’s lit the fire pit for the s’mores. Let’s leave these and grab jackets. The evenings really cool off,” Anna said.

“Do we need to bring chairs?” Her father pulled on his polar fleece hooded sweater.

“I don’t think so, but we can ask. I’m sure Margaret has coffee ready. Let’s go and meet my wonderful neighbors.” Anna guided her parents through the gate in the hedge.

Herman turned from the fire pit, smiling with a full set of bright white dentures. “Welcome.”

Anna set her desserts on a side table and introduced Herman to her parents. Margaret appeared holding a tray with coffee mugs and a carafe. “Margaret, I’ll take that. Come on over and meet my mother and father.”

Her mother stepped forward, arms outstretched. “I’m Susan Jenkins. I’d like to hug the woman who has made our Anna feel welcome.”

Margaret stepped into the hug and patted her back. “She’s a good woman. An asset to our community.”

Anna’s mother smiled and gestured beside her. “This is Pete.”

“Pleased to meet you, Pete. Your girl has given us quite the fright climbing on roofs and standing on ladders.” Margaret beamed. “Please have a seat close to the fire. Coffee?”

The conversation focused on the area and community. The Lambs provided population statistics, the length of the lake, the types of fish caught.

Margaret brought out the local history book and paged through pictures with Anna’s mother. “This is John Good as town councillor, but I expect you recognize him.”

“No, I didn’t have the pleasure of meeting him.”

“Perhaps Pete, you recognize John’s picture.”

Anna’s father reached for the book. “He does remind me of someone. But can’t say I’d pick him out of a crowd.” He handed the book back to Margaret.

“Would you show me where the graham crackers are, please?” Anna’s mother rose, then kept up the chatter while Anna followed as if in a trance. “I love s’mores.” They stepped inside. “You’ve done so much to this house. I can see your touch in every room.”

“I’m okay, Mom. It was the shock of seeing Murray’s resemblance in Mr. Good.” Anna leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder. “Thanks for being so sensitive. I’ve missed you.”

When they returned to the fire, Nick was there, deep in conversation. He gestured and murmured intently. Anna caught the words “water filtration” and “most precious resource” before Molly shifted beside him. Anna froze with one foot in mid-stride like a stork, and reached for her mother who clutched back. A slight screech slipped from her clenched jaw alerting the men to spring into action, ready to protect their loved ones.

“Annie girl, you see a skunk or something?” Herman’s head spun like a spindle.

Nick seemed to be watching her intently. “It’s Molly she’s afraid of.”

“Molly?” Herman and Margaret spoke in unison.

“I’m afraid it’s not only Anna who is frozen with fear. Susan is, too.” Anna’s father rose from his chair.

“I’ll go,” Nick said.

“No, please don’t,” Anna pleaded. “I want you to meet my mother. Molly just scared me for a moment.” She huddled closer to her mother. “How are you, Mom? Molly is a well-behaved dog. She listens to Nick. You’ll be safe. I promise. Dad?” She beckoned to her father.

“She’ll be fine. I’m right here.” Dad advanced, pulling Mom close to his chest. She snuggled into his protective shield.

Relaxing a bit, Anna said, “Mom, meet Nick Donnelly, a temporary B and B host, temporary town foreman and owner of a great dog.” She gestured toward him. “Nick, my mother, Susan Jenkins.”