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Authors: Terri DuLong

BOOK: Postcards from Cedar Key
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39
T
here was a large group of people from Cedar Key who made the drive to Gainesville for the funeral of Andrew Kane. It was an unseasonably warm day, and the sunshine somehow made a difficult time a little easier.
Dora had planned an open house back at her home to thank everyone for coming.
When we arrived we saw Marin talking to a group of people and waited our turn to give our condolences.
She was composed, although her face showed the fatigue and sorrow of the past few days.
I gave her a tight hug and tried to find the words that are always so awkward in the loss of a loved one.
“Thank you so much,” Marin said, and I could tell she was struggling to be brave. “Andrew was such a good husband and father. My one comfort is that he didn't linger or suffer. And now . . . my life has been turned upside down with him gone.”
I nodded. “It has to be so difficult, but I'm sure in time you'll figure out what you're doing.”
“I know, and for right now I've decided to stay here at my mother's house. I just can't bear to go back home . . . without Andrew there.”
That made sense to me. I gave her another hug, and Saxton and I moved away to allow others to offer their sympathy.
We mingled in the crowd, offering our condolences to Monica, and then I spied Sydney talking with a woman about her age. Tall and slim, with a salt and pepper braid hanging down her back, she looked vaguely familiar.
Sydney turned around, saw me, and motioned for me to join them.
“Berkley, I'm not sure if you've met my best friend, Alison Marks. Ali owns the B and B here on the island, but she and Paul have been off traveling for almost a year.”
I extended my hand in greeting. “It's so nice to finally meet you. I've heard about you from Monica and Sydney.”
“Yes,” Sydney said with a smile covering her face. “Believe me, Ali was my salvation when I first came to Cedar Key. Took me in and allowed me to heal.”
Alison laughed. “Well, I may have taken you in, but the healing. . . you had to do that on your own.”
“Are you planning to stay around here now?” I asked.
“I'm not entirely sure. Paul and I have a place in the historic district, but I think I've finally made the decision to put the bed and breakfast up for sale. I know it's not a great time in the home market, but I'm not in any rush. And I'm very fortunate to have such a great staff to run it while I've been away.”
“I wish you all the best,” I told her, and then offered my sympathy to Sydney.
“Thank you. I'm really hoping my cousin will decide to live here permanently. I think it would be good for her with her family and friends here.”
I agreed, but I also knew that sometimes it's very difficult trying to make a life changing decision after the death of a loved one. Had it not been for finding the postcards, I'd probably still be living in Salem, running the chocolate shop there. But I was convinced that fate had other plans for me.
I turned around to catch the wink and smile that Saxton threw my way and I had no doubt that no matter what I discovered in Maine, I was meant to be here on Cedar Key with him.
 
I walked into Yarning Together a couple of weeks later to find Dora alone, stocking shelves with some delicious-looking new yarn.
“Just what I'm looking for,” I told her. “A new project to take on my flight tomorrow.”
She turned around and smiled. “I just got this order in, and I don't think you'll be disappointed. What do you have in mind?”
I wandered over and began fingering the soft fibers as my eyes took in the various colors.
“Well, I have six Cedar Key scarves done, so I'm a little tired of working on scarves.”
Dora laughed. “You'll probably want something that will be small enough to knit on the plane. How about an ascot?”
“Oh, good idea. I have a great pattern for one and it's very simple with mostly knits and purls. Okay, I think I'll take some of this dusty rose lace merino and maybe the turquoise cotton pima.”
“Good choices,” Dora said, taking them to ring up at the counter.
“How's Marin doing?” I asked.
Dora let out a sigh. “Well, as to be expected, she has her good days and bad days. When I lost my Henry, it was different. He'd been sick for well over a year, so I had some time to prepare myself. But poor Marin. It all happened so fast. It's going to take a while for her to come to grips with all of it.”
I nodded. “It's wonderful that she has you. I'm sure staying with you is a comfort to her.”
“I like to think so, but no matter how much family or friends try to help, I'm afraid this is a journey each of us has to walk alone. People mean well, but losing a loved one is something we just have to experience on our own.”
“I'm sure in time Marin will make some decisions and go forward.”
Dora passed me the bag of yarn. “That's one good thing. She's already trying to make some plans. It seems she might put her house in Gainesville up for sale and live here permanently.”
I recalled what Sydney had said. “That would make some people very happy.”
“Well, the thing is, she had retired from teaching at the university last year. With Andrew due to retire this year, they had lots of plans for travel and being together. So she's a little concerned about finding something to keep her busy. She's fortunate that financially she'll be fine, but it's the empty hours she's worried about.”
“Yeah, I can understand that,” I said, knowing full well that I welcomed the work in my chocolate shop and the additional time spent with filling orders for my spun yarn.
“So you're off for Beantown tomorrow.”
“I am, and I'm happy to hear the temps are in the sixties and no snow in sight.”
Dora laughed. “Nervous?”
“A little, but also excited to finally be able to fit all the missing pieces into my puzzle.”
“So you're not sorry you came here last year and decided to find your answers?”
Without hesitating, I said, “Oh, no. Not at all. No matter what, I have no doubt that I was meant to come to Cedar Key. Living here has surpassed my expectations and Saxton . . . I know now that I'd been searching for him all my life and I didn't even realize it.”
Dora patted my hand and smiled. “Nothing can be better than not only finding that one special person, but also being able to be together. Enjoy the moments, Berkley, because I'm afraid the older we get, the less those kinds of moments come to us.”
Once again, I detected a wistful tone to her voice.
 
The 737 circled and made its final descent into Boston's Logan Airport. I felt Saxton squeeze my hand as I looked out the window and saw the Prudential Center, State Street Bank, Boston Harbor, and Georges Island. Moisture filled my eyes as it always did when looking down on my roots from the air. I felt the soft bump as the wheels hit the tarmac a few seconds before hearing the flight attendant announce, “Welcome to Boston. Please remain seated with your seat belt fastened until we reach the gate, and thank you for flying with us today.”
I let out a deep breath and smiled up at Saxton. “Well, here we are.”
Once the seat belt sign was off, I gathered up my knitting and the one small carry-on in the overhead, and Saxton and I made our way into the terminal and downstairs to the rental cars.
The check-in process went smoothly, and before I knew it we were leaving the airport and heading for I-95 north. My excitement was building at the thought of seeing Jill and my beloved alpacas, Bosco and Belle. It had been exactly one year since I'd seen them.
A little over two hours later I spotted Rumination Farm farther up on the right.
“There it is,” I said, pointing a finger, and heard the excitement in my voice.
The large white farmhouse was situated quite a distance back from the road with a long gravel driveway leading to the front door. A two-story clapboard with a sprawling porch, the house with its surrounding eleven acres looked like the quintessential New England postcard.
Before Saxton even had a chance to shut off the ignition I saw Jill come bounding out of the house and down the stairs.
I ran to greet her, and we threw our arms around each other. I'm sure anybody watching would have thought we were two teenage girls giddy with excitement.
“I'm so happy you're
finally
here. Hell, it's only taken a year to get you back,” Jill said, giving me another hug.
She ran over to Saxton, gave him a bear hug, and said, “Okay, let's get your luggage inside. I'm so glad you agreed to stay here for your first night.”
Saxton and I had decided to stay with Jill to allow us more time to visit and then drive the short way to Brunswick the following day.
We each grabbed a piece of luggage and headed for the front door.
“Nice place,” Saxton said, looking around the foyer with the hardwood floors, braided rug, and antique tables.
“I know,” I told him. “I just love this house. It belonged to Jill's grandparents, and when they died she inherited it and turned it into the alpaca farm.”
“Why don't you show Saxton around while I put the finishing touches on lunch. Then we'll go out so you can see Bosco and Belle.”
“Living room's in there,” I said, pointing to the large room on my left.
He peeked in the doorway to see the fieldstone fireplace dominating one entire wall, cushy chocolate brown leather furniture, and antique lamps and tables.
“Dining room over there,” I told him, nodding to the right. “Kitchen is behind the dining room, and Jill's bedroom suite is in back of the living room. Guest rooms upstairs,” I said, reaching for a piece of luggage and climbing the gorgeous staircase in front of us.
“I gave you guys the guest room on the right,” Jill hollered from the kitchen. “Nice and private in case you get frisky.”
“Very funny,” I hollered back with a laugh.
Saxton followed me down the hall to the large bedroom. It was just as I had remembered it. I had been allowed to come here a couple of times to spend the night with Jill when my mother and I still lived in Topsham. And I recalled my yearly visits as an adult visiting from Salem.
A huge mahogany four-poster with a beautiful white lace duvet and handmade quilt folded at the bottom of the bed took up one wall. An oak rolltop desk sat in front of the double windows, and a small sitting area with two cushy chairs and a mahogany table between them was situated next to the bathroom suite.
“Beautiful room,” Saxton said, looking around.
“It is. I'm so glad Jill decided to keep the house and live here herself.”
Saxton pulled me into an embrace. “There's a lot to be said for these older houses. Maybe it's because I'm from England, but I've always been partial to them.”
I kissed his cheek. “Me too, and I always thought it was because I'm from New England, but I find them much more appealing than the modern houses. Okay, all set? Let's go down for lunch and then we'll show you around the property outside.”
40
“O
h, Jill,” I said, blotting my lips with a napkin. “You outdid yourself on that clam chowder. I don't know, but I think you could give Tony's Restaurant a run for his money in the chowder competition.”
Jill laughed, then took the last sip of her wine. “No, thanks. I only make it for myself and those I love. But I am a bit prejudiced toward clams right out of the Atlantic. Gabe brought these to me last night so I could get the chowder going.”
Gabe?
This was the first time I'd heard her mention this name.
“Who's Gabe?” I asked with interest.
“Oh . . . well . . . I was kinda waiting till you got here to tell you. I've started seeing somebody. A really nice fellow. Nothing serious . . . but . . . I like him.”
She reminded me of a flustered teenager, and I chuckled. “Okay. Time for details.”
“Well, we met right after I got back from Thanksgiving in Florida and . . .”
I cut her off. “What? Four months ago and you're just getting around to telling me
now?
”
“Technically, three months ago. In December. He owns a seafood restaurant a few miles up the coast and I just happened to stop in there for lunch one day. He's also the chef and came over to the table to see if my scallops were okay. So we started chatting and well . . . next thing I know, he's asking me out. I figured what the heck. We had a really nice time and, um . . . well . . . the rest is history.”
“You've been holding out on me, Jill. Shame on you,” I said, laughing. “But I'm really happy for you. Do I get to meet this beau while I'm here?”
“Actually, I did invite him for dinner this evening. So, yes, you'll be able to give your approval.”
“Great. Okay, let me help you clean up. I'm dying to show Saxton around.”
“No, no. I can handle it. Go show him around and I'll join you out there shortly.”
I took Saxton's hand and led him out the back door. I took a deep breath of the brisk March air and pointed across the field.
“That old barn is what Jill converted to her yarn shop. She does all the spinning and dyeing of the yarn in there. And there's the alpacas,” I said, nodding toward two pens enclosed with fence across from the barn. “Let's go find Bosco and Belle.”
As we got closer, I spied them immediately. One tan and one beige. Alpacas can be skittish, and I knew it had been a year since I had seen them, so I approached the fence cautiously.
“Hey, babies,” I said softly, holding out my hand. It took a bit of coaxing, but after a few minutes Bosco came closer, followed by Belle.
“They're really gorgeous,” Saxton said, following my lead and speaking softly. “What a beautiful coat they have.”
I nodded. “Yeah, nice and wooly, and it makes perfect yarn. Jill will shear them in the spring. Come on, sweetie, come closer.”
After a few more minutes Bosco was at the fence, Belle at his side, and I was able to pat them and nuzzle the top of their fuzzy heads. Alpacas weren't like dogs, but I had no doubt that they remembered me. We spent some time giving them attention and then I said, “Come on. I'll show you the yarn shop.”
We walked across the path to the restored barn, and I opened the door on the huge room. One side was set up as a working area with spinning wheels, bundles of fleece, and roving. The other side was the shop where the yarn and accessories were sold. Large enamel tubs held skeins of various colors and fibers. Baskets were overflowing with alpaca and cotton. Racks displayed finished sweaters, scarves, blankets, and afghans. Up three steps from the main room was an area that held a long granite table with wooden chairs.
“That's where Jill holds all of her knitting classes and gatherings,” I said.
Saxton shook his head. “I'm impressed. She has quite a business here. And she runs it all herself?”
“She takes care of the alpacas herself, but she just recently hired an assistant a few days a week to help out in the shop and with some classes. This has always been Jill's dream, ever since I can remember.”
“There's a lot to be said for making dreams come true.”
“You think? Some days I'm not so sure about that.”
I turned around to see Jill had joined us, and laughed. “Oh, come on. You know you love it.”
She nodded. “I do, but I'm really glad I've now hired Becky. It gives me a few free hours now and then. Did you see Bosco and Belle?”
“Yeah, they look great, and I do think they remembered me.”
“Of course they do. Alpacas are smarter than people think. I just put a pot of coffee on. Thought we could have some with the cranberry bread I made this morning.”
“Sounds great,” I said as we followed her back to the house.
We spent a relaxing afternoon chatting and catching up on news. The aroma of a New England boiled dinner began to fill the house.
“Let me just go check how dinner's coming,” Jill said. “More coffee?”
“If you don't mind, I'd like to go back outside and see those alpacas again. They're fascinating animals.” Saxton stood up and followed us to the kitchen.
“They are,” I said. “Go ahead and I'll join Jill for another cup of coffee.”
I settled myself at the counter while she lifted the lid on the huge pot holding the smoked shoulder, potatoes, carrots, turnip, and cabbage, creating an even stronger aroma.
“God, that smells good,” I told her. “I can't remember the last time I made that.”
“I know. It's pretty simple to put together and it's always good. If you don't mind, I'm just going to roll out the dough for the biscuits. Gabe said he'll be here about five, so I planned dinner for five-thirty.”
“Sounds great,” I said, as I watched her flour a wooden board and begin rolling out dough.
“You seem happy, Berkley.”
Her statement took me by surprise. I refilled my coffee mug and looked at her.
“I am happy.”
“What I mean is, I think Saxton has a lot to do with your happiness. You seem . . . well . . .
changed
since you've met him.”
“Really? In which way?”
She hesitated for a moment. “More relaxed. Less stressed. Not as . . . obsessive.”
I noticed she didn't look at me when she said this but continued to concentrate on cutting out circles of dough for the biscuits.
I let out a deep sigh. “Well, despite what you've always said, I've never considered myself obsessive. Or compulsive. But yeah, you could be right. Saxton makes me
feel
different.”
“More secure?”
“Oh, now I'm also insecure?”
Her head shot up. “I didn't mean that in a bad way, Berkley. Honest. It's just that since we were kids, you've always tried so hard to be independent. To the point where once we got older, I used to wonder if it was a mask. A cover-up for how you really felt.”
I hadn't ever given this much thought, but Jill could be right.
“I suppose so,” I mumbled, as I realized that since meeting Saxton I had let go of a lot of my quirky behavior. I no longer needed the light on at night when I slept—even if Saxton wasn't spending the night at my place. I had been able to let go of having everything placed precisely where I'd put it. My list and notes—I'd probably always be a list maker, but I had made changes in many ways.
“I just want you to know,” Jill said, wiping her hands on a towel, “no matter what you find out in Brunswick—it won't define who you really are. Whatever it was, it was your mother's life. Not yours. You had nothing to do with anything that happened. I mean, I think it's pretty obvious that whatever you're going to find out—it won't be good news. Otherwise, your mother and grandmother wouldn't have gone to such lengths to keep it away from you. But, Berkley, just keep it in perspective.”
“I will,” I said, and hoped that I was right.
 
“That was really delicious, Jill,” Saxton said. “There's nothing like true home cooking.”
“I agree,” Gabe told her as he reached over to pat her hand.
“Thank you so much for making this.” I shot her a smile both for the dinner and for my approval of Gabe.
I liked him a lot from the moment he entered Jill's kitchen, a bottle of wine in one hand and a bouquet of spring flowers in the other. Tall, average looking, and very personable. He had one of those personalities people were naturally drawn to. Genuine and sincere, much like Saxton, and I thought he was the perfect match for my best friend.
“Thank you. All accolades gladly accepted. And now . . . How about a piece of homemade apple pie to finish it off? I have coffee to go with it.”
“Great, I'll help you,” I said, leaving the dining room to follow her into the kitchen.
“I like him, Jill. Gabe seems like a really nice guy, and I think you two are well suited.”
“I've been thinking the same thing. You know, it's really strange. When you least expect it, when you're truly not searching for anybody in your life . . . boom . . . it just happens. In walks Mr. Right.”
I laughed. “I know the feeling exactly,” I said, thinking back to the day I found Saxton sitting on the pavement in front of my chocolate shop waiting for me to open.
Following dessert and coffee, we went into the living room, where a huge fire was blazing in the fireplace. I curled up next to Saxton on one sofa, and Gabe and Jill took the other one. We passed a pleasant few hours conversing, and then Gabe said he needed to get going.
“I have a big day at the restaurant tomorrow. Lots of bookings, so I'll need to get an early start. If you get a chance, before you head back to Florida, come by for dinner. On the house.”
We assured him we'd try to make it one evening before leaving.
By ten o'clock Saxton and I were ready to call it a night.
“Sleep as late as you want,” Jill told us before heading to her room downstairs. “I don't have any classes or anything tomorrow, but I'm usually up pretty early to tend to the alpacas.”
I joined Saxton in the comfy bed and curled up in his arms. Snuggled beside him, with the duvet and fluffy pillows, I felt like I was in a cocoon. A protective cocoon. And I wondered what tomorrow would bring. What would I find in those newspapers at the Brunswick library? Now that I was hours away from the information that I had craved for forty years, I could only hope that Jill had been right—that I'd be able to accept whatever it was I was about to find out.

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