Talk of the Town (2 page)

That evening, the sisters gathered for Sunday supper. As she often did, Ethel Buckley, their aunt, was going to join them.

Jane had made an old-fashioned pot roast with potatoes and carrots. She was taking buttermilk biscuits from the oven, while Alice set the table in the cheerful kitchen with its paprika, black-and-white décor, when Ethel arrived. Tonight, Ethel was clad in mint-green slacks and a matching sweater. The color of her clothes made her incongruous dyed-red hair look even more vivid than usual.

“Hello, girls. Wasn’t it a beautiful day? I can’t wait for warmer weather to arrive for good. These little teasers are driving me crazy.”

Jane chuckled as she placed the biscuits in a woven straw basket and covered them with a red-and-white checkered cloth. “I know how you feel. I suspect we’ll get at least one more cold spell before it really begins to warm up for good.”

“The first day of spring is on Tuesday,” Alice reminded them. “Even if we do get cold weather again, it won’t last.”

“What won’t last?” Louise came into the kitchen. She had been in the parlor practicing piano music for an upcoming wedding for which she had agreed to play.

“Cold weather,” Ethel supplied. The older woman’s pale blue eyes widened as she took in her niece’s appearance. “Why, Louise! It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you wearing something other than beige or blue. What a pretty shade of pink that is.”

“Thank you.” Louise actually looked a little embarrassed. She was wearing a gray wool skirt with a pale pink twin set and her signature pearls. “I looked into my closet the other day and realized what a rut I’ve gotten into. I’d been planning to purchase a new sweater set anyway, so I made myself choose a color other than blue or beige.”

“Those colors both look very nice on you,” Alice said loyally. “But this does too. It complements your complexion.”

Jane set down the pot roast in the center of the table. It was beautifully presented on a white china platter, surrounded by roasted carrots and potatoes. “Shall we dine?”

The four women took seats around the table, and Ethel murmured a simple blessing while they bowed their heads. When they began to eat, Jane turned to Alice.

“So, tell us about our new guest. When I saw the book, I was overjoyed. Is he really staying for an entire month?”

“A month?” Louise repeated as she selected a biscuit from the basket.

Alice nodded. “Right after you left to visit Mrs. Smeal this afternoon, a young man in a wildly expensive car pulled into the driveway. His name is Maxwell Alexander Vandermitton the Third.”

Louise raised an eyebrow. “Good gracious.”

“And though he gave me permission to use his first name, I would not suggest shortening it to Max,” Alice added, smiling. “He’s not a nickname sort of person.”

“What sort of person is he?” Ethel asked.

“Formal, extremely formal for someone in his twenties. He is working on a doctorate.”

“Family money?” Ethel cut to the chase. “If he’s been in school that long, has that sort of car and can afford to stay here for a month, he certainly isn’t paying his own bills.”

“I didn’t ask. I admit I’m curious. I’m sure he’ll tell us anything he wants us to know in his own good time.”

Ethel chuckled. “You’re such a good person, Alice. You’re quite right. We shouldn’t be gossiping.” She leaned forward. “But if you learn anything else about him, I do hope you’ll share it.”

All four women laughed.

They were just finishing an excellent baklava, a deliciously sweet Greek dessert, when the telephone rang.

Jane rose. “I’ll get that.”

“Perhaps it’s another guest booking a room for a month,” Alice joked.

“Somehow, I suspect that is not the case.” Louise smiled. “I’d be thrilled with a week.”

They heard Jane answer the phone with the inn’s standard greeting.

After an unusually long silence, Jane said. “I’m sorry. I don’t … no, no, ma’am, is there anyone with you who speaks English? … Deutsch? No, I don’t speak Deutsch. I’m so sorry—”

“Landsake!” Ethel pushed back her chair and went to Jane’s side. “Jane, let me have that.”

Jane, looking rather bewildered, slowly surrendered the handset.

“Hello?
Sprechen Sie Englisch
? May I help you?”

Jane turned to Louise and Alice. “It’s a woman caller. She just kept repeating, ‘
Sprechen Sie Deutsch
?’”

“
Deutsch
is German,” said Louise. “I have a smattering of it thanks to my music studies, but certainly not enough to communicate.”

“Aunt Ethel apparently does.” Jane indicated their aunt, shaking her head in wonder.

“I had no idea she spoke German,” Louise said.

“And it seems quite well,” Alice observed, amazed. Their aunt’s first words were halting and slow, but she quickly picked up speed as the language came back to her.

“This is an inn—
das gasthof
. You may, oh, what’s the word?
Reservieren?
Reserve a private room … Breakfast is included, but not lunch or dinner, except by special arrangement … What’s that? No, we do not offer
transportmittel
, but if you need help getting to Acorn Hill from Philadelphia, we might be able to—let me think, what’s the word for arrange? …
Ordnen dich abzuholen
…

Ethel turned after a few moments and beckoned frantically for Jane. She mouthed, “This lady would like to book a room.”

Jane nodded, and quickly fetched the reservation book. Ethel translated as more questions and answers about dates, rates and amenities were exchanged, and Jane took down credit card information.

After a few more moments, Ethel said, “
Auf wiedersehen.
” She placed the receiver back on its stand and returned to the table.

“What?” she asked, when she noticed that Alice, Jane and Louise were all staring at her as if she’d suddenly sprouted wings.

“You speak German,” said Louise, restating the obvious as if she could not believe it.

“You speak German very well,” added Jane.

“I don’t know about the ‘very well’ part,” Ethel said modestly. “I haven’t spoken it in years.”

“I’ve never heard you speak German,” Alice told her aunt.

“Well, I don’t imagine you have,” said Ethel brusquely. “I’ve had no call to use it in a very long time.”

“It’s a good thing you were able to recall it so easily,” Alice said with admiration in her voice. “We would have found it very difficult to help that caller without you.”

“I’m glad I could be helpful.”

“So give us the details,” Jane said. “The caller is visiting from Germany? What brings her to Acorn Hill?”

“Her name is Clothilda Moeller. Right now she is in Philadelphia visiting distant relatives while she researches her family genealogy,” Ethel told her nieces. “Though no one else was home just now to help her with the call. She said that some of her ancestors came through the Port of Philadelphia and that she believes they may have settled in this area. Ms. Moeller will be checking in at the inn on Saturday and plans to stay for a little more than two weeks. She is hoping to pursue her genealogical research while she is here.”

“Gracious,” said Louise. “This has been our day for long-term guests, hasn’t it?”

As the women trooped back into the dining room, Ethel retook her seat and eyed the remains of her baklava. “My hips do not need one more bite of that,” she said. “But my willpower is nonexistent where Jane’s cooking is concerned.”

“I know just what you mean,” Louise said, chuckling.

Alice said, “So where did you learn to speak German so well, Aunt Ethel? Did you study it in school?”

“No.” Ethel sighed, picked up her fork and took another bite of baklava. “When I was in grade school, the girl who lived down the road from us spoke German. Her parents were immigrants. Annelise and I spent a lot of time together.” Her smile took on a faraway quality. “We were at her house a lot. It always had people coming and going, laughing and arguing, the way I thought a real family would be. The way I thought my family might have been if my brothers and sisters had been closer in age to me.”

“I sometimes forget how much space there was between you and Father,” Jane said, “even more than between Louise and me.”

“Seventeen years,” Ethel said. “And the other five were even older than Daniel so I barely knew most of them.”

“Perhaps that is why Father never mentioned that you spoke German.”

“He may not have known. He was grown and gone from home while I was still just a tot.” She paused wistfully, and then seemed to shake off the moment of introspection. “At any rate, Annelise and I were great friends, and when her family realized I was picking up some of their language, it became their mission to make me a proper German-speaker.”

“Apparently, they succeeded,” Louise said dryly. “I can’t believe you remember it so well after all these years.”

“Well, I had more practice than simply those childhood years,” Ethel told her. “When Bob and I married, he spoke the language fluently because his mother had been German.” She laughed. “Although his accent was from Cologne and mine was from Munich, so we sometimes had to repeat things.”

Alice laughed. “I suppose I never thought of other languages having local accents, but American English is sprinkled with accents—”

“Southern, Midwestern, New England …” Jane interrupted.

“Exactly,” Alice said, nodding. “So why shouldn’t there be a variety of German accents?”

“Aunt Ethel, did you teach your children to speak German?” asked Louise.

Ethel shook her head. “No, and I regret that. It was part of Bob’s heritage, and we should have passed it on. But we didn’t. We went to Germany on our honeymoon, and we spoke it to each other a bit during the early years of our marriage. And then I suppose life got hectic and we let it lapse. To tell you the truth, until today I had no idea I still would be able to speak it so well.”

“Tell us about your honeymoon, Aunt Ethel,” Alice requested. She could not remember her aunt ever speaking much about her marriage, although Alice knew she had loved her husband very much.

“And your courtship,” Jane added.

Ethel giggled girlishly, and Jane grinned at Alice. “My courtship and honeymoon. Let’s see … I was still in high school when I met your uncle. He was older than I, and he lived in a neighboring town. I married your uncle while he was home on furlough. My father wouldn’t hear of my getting married right out of school, so I went to business school for a year.”

“You said on furlough,” Louise said. “He was a soldier?”

Ethel nodded. “He was in the Eleventh Airborne. He joined the army shortly after VJ Day.”

“So he never actually had to fight?” Alice shuddered.

Ethel shook her head. “No. He was sent over during the Allied occupation of Japan. Oh, gracious, I still remember how desperately I missed that man.”

Alice was shocked to see tears rising in her stalwart aunt’s eyes. “Oh, Aunt Ethel, you don’t have to talk about this. I’m sorry we pried.”

“You’re not prying, dear.” Ethel patted Alice’s hand. “And I don’t mind talking about it. It’s just that I haven’t thought much about those sweet days of falling in love in a very long time.” A small smile tugged at her lips. “Some day I’ll have to show you photographs of Bob in his fatigues. He was a handsome devil. He sent me pictures from Fort Campbell in Kentucky while he was at boot camp. Back then, it was called Camp Campbell. I also have a couple of postcards that he sent from Manila. I can still feel the thrill I got each time one of those postcards arrived.” She shook her head. “But you aren’t interested in all that.”

“Yes, we are,” Louise said vigorously. “So you got married when he was still in the army?”

“Yes,” Ethel said, “but we didn’t go on a honeymoon right away, except for an overnight to a historic hotel down in Maryland. We went to Germany right after he got home from Japan.”

“Why did you choose Germany?” Jane asked curiously. “Wasn’t it in ruins?”

“A lot of it was,” Ethel said. “Heidelberg wasn’t bombed, but most cities were. We went there because Bob’s mother had not heard from some of her family since the start of the war and she wanted us to try to find them. She was from near Cologne, which was very heavily bombed by the Allies in 1942.”

“Had her family been killed?” Louise asked.

Ethel shook her head. “No, they had escaped into the countryside. Some time after the end of the war, they returned, and we eventually were able to find them. But Cologne was in shambles. The entire city looked like a huge rubble pile except for the cathedral. It had not been completely destroyed because the Allies used the largest structure in each city as a navigation point.”

Jane shook her head, her artist’s soul saddened. “What a pity—all those ancient buildings gone because of man’s foolishness.”

Ethel nodded. “It was the most unforgettable thing I have ever seen. Almost everywhere we went, the war had left its mark.”

There was a moment of silence around the table. Then a plaintive “Meow” disrupted the hush. Jane laughed as Wendell, the family’s gray tabby cat, leaped into her lap. Then he leaned forward, his nose twitching as he smelled the remains of their dinner. “Oh, no you don’t,” Jane said. “You’ve already had your treat for the day.”

Alice smiled, leaning over to stroke a hand along the cat’s soft back, making Wendell arch and close his eyes in delight. “Silly old thing,” she murmured fondly. “You’re just a silly, silly boy.”

Louise pushed back her chair in a prelude to clearing the table. She walked around to her aunt’s side and bent down to kiss Ethel’s cheek. “Thank you, Aunt Ethel, for sharing those precious memories with us.”

“And for saving the day as our one-and-only German-speaker,” Jane said as she urged Wendell gently onto the floor and began stacking dishes.

Chapter Two

G
ood morning.” Maxwell Alexander Vandermitton III rose from his chair on Monday morning as Jane approached the dining room table. She smiled at the tall, slender young man. She just knew she was always going to think of him by that entire name.

“Good morning, Mr. Vandermitton. I’m Jane Howard.” Jane set down a covered plate and took off the lid. “This morning we are serving ginger-pear pancakes with a side of crisped bacon and a kiwi-orange salad.”

“Please call me Maxwell, Ms. Howard.”

“And you must call me Jane.”

“This smells delicious,” he said, indicating the plate. “Won’t you please sit and talk with me for a few minutes?”

Jane hesitated. There was no one else in the dining room at present. “Just for a minute,” she said. “There are things in the kitchen I need to check.”

He smiled at her, and then closed his eyes in sheer delight as he took his first bite of pancake. “Extraordinary. I confess I did not expect to find a four-star chef in Acorn Hill.”

Jane laughed. “Thank you.” She waved a hand at their surroundings. “This was our family home, my sisters’ and mine. After our father passed away, we decided to create a bed-and-breakfast. So far, it’s been quite a success.”

“With food like this, that’s no surprise to me. Acorn Hill is a lucky little town.”

“Thank you.”

“So tell me about Acorn Hill.” He made an expansive gesture with his fork.

“What would you like to know?”

“Anything. Everything. Is everyone as pleasant as you and your sister Alice?”

Jane smiled. “Very nearly. It’s a lovely little town. I’ve only been back for a short time. Alice could tell you much more.”

“Back? From where?”

“San Francisco. I lived there until we decided to open Grace Chapel Inn.”

“How long did you live there?” Maxwell leaned forward, a frown creasing his brow.

“Longer than I lived here.” Jane laughed. “Over thirty years.”

“So you really aren’t a small-town person.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I was raised here, and since returning to Pennsylvania I have discovered that any city veneer I might have acquired rubbed off rather quickly. I feel more at home here than I ever did in San Francisco, no matter how much I liked the City by the Bay.”

“But Alice never moved away?”

“She lived here all her life, except for when she was in nursing school,” Jane responded. “In fact, many of our town’s residents have been here their whole lives. The downtown area, which you may not have seen yet, is picturesque and very charming.”

“I have not seen the downtown section yet,” he told her. “I came straight here from the highway yesterday.”

“What are you planning on doing during your stay? If you enjoy hiking, there is a very nice trail not far away.”

Maxwell shook his head. “I’m not much of a hiker. A brisk walk into town will suit me fine. Are there any places I should visit?”

Jane noticed that he had not answered her query, but she decided not to pry. “If you walk into town, you must visit the Good Apple Bakery. Clarissa Cottrell, the owner, makes mouthwatering baked goods. There’s a good bookstore, our library, an antique shop and a tea shop, plus the usual assortment of other businesses. Outside of town, there’s an old cemetery, which also might be interesting if you like that sort of thing. There are at least three graves of Civil War soldiers.” She drew in a breath. “But we are not really a tourist town.”

“I’m sure I’ll enjoy the peace and quiet.”

“Good morning.” Alice entered the dining room, wearing a nursing smock with navy pants and sturdy white shoes. “I hope you slept well, Maxwell.”

Their guest nodded. “The room is quite comfortable, thank you. Much more so than I was expecting, really.”

Jane was taken aback by the comment, but Maxwell appeared oblivious to any insult he may have given.

Alice broke into the awkward silence. “I just wanted to let you know I’m leaving now, Jane. I’ll be home in time for dinner.”

“Is that what the early telephone call was?” Jane asked her sister.

Alice nodded. “I wasn’t on the schedule for today.” She smiled. “But I don’t mind.”

“See you at dinner,” Jane said. “Have a good day.”

“You too. Good-bye, Maxwell,” Alice said, smiling as she turned and left the dining room through the swinging door to the kitchen on her way out to the parking lot.

Not a moment after Alice’s departure, Louise breezed in from the hallway. “Good morning.”

Jane and Maxwell turned as Louise came into the room, dressed in a tailored navy skirt with a pretty, lacy ivory blouse. Her pearls gleamed against the light fabric.

“Good morning, Louise.” Jane rose from the table. “Have you met our guest yet?”

Jane performed the introductions.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Maxwell said.

“And you, also. I understand this is your first experience staying at an inn.”

The young man smiled. “Yes, I’m afraid my education has been limited to four-star hotels.”

Louise raised an eyebrow. “Indeed.”

“It’s a very different experience,” he told her.

“I agree,” said Louise. “My husband enjoyed traveling in style when we vacationed or attended a conference. One feels quite pampered. However, at a bed-and-breakfast one has the opportunity to meet all kinds of interesting people and become as socially engaged as one chooses.”

Jane bit her lip, trying not to laugh. When Louise used “one” that often, it was a sign she was irked. Jane could see why Louise would take offense, although she suspected that Maxwell was unaware of how his references to privilege and wealth came across to others. The young man had a superior air about him, although he could be charming and quite friendly.

“Louise is an accomplished pianist,” Jane explained to Maxwell. “Her husband also was a musician. He taught at the university level, and they even had opportunities to travel to Europe with performing groups.”

Maxwell looked surprised. “There isn’t a university here, is there?”

Louise shook her head. “Oh no. I moved away from Acorn Hill to go to college and didn’t return until after our father’s passing. My husband and I made our home in Philadelphia for many years.”

“I see.”

Maxwell looked almost… disappointed, Jane thought, although she could not imagine what could have been disappointing in Louise’s explanation.

“So your sister Alice is the only one of you who has spent her life here?”

Louise nodded. “That’s correct.”

“You know,” said Jane, “I was planning to walk into town in a bit. If you’d like to come along, I’ll be happy to introduce you to some other folks who are long-time residents.”

Maxwell nodded eagerly. “Thank you, Jane. I would enjoy accompanying you.”

“All right, then.” Jane rose. “I’ll get back to the kitchen. Perhaps we could meet in the foyer in half an hour?”

“I look forward to it.” He inclined his dark head once in what looked suspiciously like a gesture of dismissal.

As she returned to the kitchen, Jane could not help grinning. It was going to be interesting to have Maxwell and Louise under the same roof for a month.

Her eldest sister was right behind Jane as the swinging door between the kitchen and dining room closed behind them.

“
Humph!
” Louise exclaimed, crossing her arms. “That young man is a bit full of himself, don’t you think?”

“I believe he was raised in a very privileged atmosphere,” Jane said diplomatically. “I don’t think he meant to be offensive, although I grant you that he does come across that way occasionally.”

“Occasionally?” Louise sniffed. “I hope I don’t see much of him while he’s here—Wendell!” Louise moved across the kitchen with surprising speed. “You get down from there
right now
.”

Jane looked around just in time to see Wendell quickly remove himself from her chair, where he’d apparently been surveying the remains of her breakfast.

“One more minute and he’d have been munching on your bacon,” Louise said.

“Thank you.” Jane smiled sweetly at her sister. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you move that fast, Louise.”

“I rarely have the need to move that fast,” Louise countered. She glanced down at the cat, who had moved to the floor but still was eyeing the table in an intense and hopeful way. “Scat,” she ordered him. “If you can’t use good manners, you can’t be in the kitchen.”

“He’s a cat,” Jane said laughing. “First of all, I don’t think he understands English, and second, scavenging for food is instinctive. He didn’t mean any harm.”

“And he didn’t cause any,” Louise said, adding darkly, “this time.”

The ringing of the bell that signaled someone at the front desk interrupted further conversation.

“Would you please get that?” Jane said. “I’ll finish cleaning up these breakfast dishes.”

“I’ll be glad to,” said Louise. She straightened her skirt. “Am I presentable?”

Jane inspected her briefly. “You look lovely, the very picture of a prosperous innkeeper.”

Louise chuckled as she started toward the front of the house. “Someone had better call the bank. I do believe they forgot to inform me that I’m prospering.”

Louise could hear Jane laughing as she walked through the hallway toward the reception desk tucked beneath the stairs.

“Welcome to Grace Chapel Inn. I’m Louise Howard,” she said to the middle-aged man with a briefcase who stood waiting at the desk.

“Hello. I’m Lyle Jervis. I need a room for the next two nights. Do you have anything open?”

“We do.” Louise took his information, ran his credit card and chose a key from the drawer while she explained their breakfast schedule and check-out hours. “May I ask how you found us, Mr. Jervis?” The sisters always tried to ask the guests that question so that they could determine where their advertising dollars were best spent.

“I found you online,” he told her. “I would have called in advance except that my travel schedule is not always predictable, and I wasn’t sure when or how long I might be here.”

She led the way upstairs and showed Mr. Jervis into the Garden Room, then returned to the kitchen.

“Was that another guest?” Jane asked.

“Yes. He’s on a business trip and will be here for two nights.”

“Great.” Jane glanced at the clock. “Goodness, I’d better grab my jacket. It’s almost time to meet Maxwell.”