Carolina Mist (16 page)

“Alex, I am very fond of Belle,” she said more gently, “and I
didn’t mean to imply that I…
”

“Abby, she’s not your responsibility,” he s
tated matter-
of-factly. “You shouldn’t be expected to make your plans around her.”

There. It was said. And Abby had not been the one to say it aloud.

“Alex, this has been very difficult for me.” She put down the scraper and perched at the top of the ladder. “
I
came here with the sole intention of selling this house and the furnishings and everything else. I had no idea that anyone—least of all Belle—was living here.”

“Must have been quite a surprise,” he noted wryly.

“Must have been.” She smiled. “I arrived late at night, and I still do not know who scared who more, me or Belle.”

“But you stayed.”

“Right now, I have nowhere else to go.” She added hastily, “That is, I haven’t had time to look for a job, because I’ve been busy getting the house fixed up. I know I won’t get much for it, not now, anyway, the sad shape it’s in. So I figured I’d spend a few months and do the best I could with it, maybe increase its value. Besides, the Realtors all say that spring is the best time to sell.” For some reason, she could not meet his eyes.

“Well,” he said, “spring is just a month or so away.”

“Yes.”

“And this arrangement you had with Gran?”

“Alex, there was no arrangement. I don’t know what she told you. Leila and Belle had an arrangement, that Belle could live here for as long as she wanted. I’ll honor that arrangement for as long as I can, but I can’t promise that it will be for as long as Belle might wish.”

“I guess I showed up at just the right time,” he said softly. “Just in time to take Gran off your hands.”

“Well, I’m not ready to sell the house yet, Alex,” she told him. “She can stay for as long as I’m here. I just don’t know how long that will be. At least several months. It’s taking me longer than I’d expected, going room to room up here, and I haven’t even started on the first floor.”

“Does Gran know about this?” he asked.

“No,” Abby admitted. “I didn’t know how to tell her. I know she’ll be upset.”

“Upset? The woman has lived all her life in this town, Abby. Everything that has ever mattered to her has happened right here in Primrose. We’ll be lucky if it doesn’t kill her.”

“Oh, gee, thanks, Alex,” she snapped. “Heap a little guilt on me, why don’t you?”

“Aw, Abby, I’m not trying to
…
look, Gran’s not your responsibility. She’s mine. I’m grateful to you for not pitching her out in the street when you got here. And I’m grateful that you’re willing to let her stay for a little while longer, especially since it appears she’s tried to hoodwink both of us. But the fact remains that once the house is sold, she will have to leave and go someplace else.”

“She could go with you,” Abby ventured, wishing she had the nerve to add,
Wonder how sweet Melissa would like that?

“Yes, she could.” He nodded. “But it wouldn’t be here. It wouldn’t be Primrose. How on earth will we tell her—I mean, how will
I
tell her—that she has to leave Primrose?” He stood and walked to the window and looked out at the river flowing cold and misty behind the peaked roof of the carriage house.

“Tell me what your timetable is,” he said without turning around.

“Ideally, I’d like to have the house ready to be listed with the real estate company by April or May,
bu
t…”

“But?”

“Well, with everything that needs to be done, I’ll be lucky if I have the house ready to sell by the end of the summer. The scope of the work overwhelms me at times.”

“Show me.”

Abby came down off the ladder and gave him the handyman’s tour of the house, inside and outside.

“Wow.” Alex shook his head in disbelief as he looked over the contractor’s estimate. They had completed the rounds of necessary repairs and sat now in the kitchen, where Abby prepared scones for Belle’s afternoon tea. “How much would you get for the house if you didn’t do all this work?”

“Probably next to nothing,” she admitted as she poured water into the coffee maker with one hand and turned on the oven with the other.

“I guess you really need to get all you can from it.”

“Every blessed penny.” She sighed. “If I don’t get some positive response to my resume soon, I may have to think about maybe starting a business of my own.”

“Doing what?”

“I haven’t decided.”

“Where would you go?”

“Don’t know.”

“You just know you want out of Primrose,” he noted quietly.

“There’s nothing for me here, Alex,” she told him more stiffly than she’d meant to.

“I see.”

“Alex, there are no major companies within miles. There are no jobs, there is no future i
n Primrose for someone like…
”

She turned to find Belle in the doorway.

“I must have slept longer than usual, dear,” Belle said calmly. “Is it almost time for tea?”

“Yes, Belle.” Abby could not meet her eyes. How much had she heard?

“Good.” Belle watched with satisfaction as Abby dropped the scone dough onto the baking tray. “Is there any of Elvira’s marmalade left, Abby? Oh, come on, Meri, would you like to go out back? Let me just get my sweater on. Come along, Meri.”

Belle pulled on the heavy dark blue sweater that hung on a hook near the porch window. She opened the door and followed the little dog onto the back porch.

“Do you think she heard you?” Alex asked tensely.

“I think it’s a question of how much she heard.” Abby grimaced.

“Alexander,” Belle called through the open door. “Come out here and look at these geese down toward the river.”

He looked as if he was about to speak, but, apparently changing his mind, he rose to join Belle on the back porch.

Abby could hear his light banter with Belle, and she peered out the window. They stood facing the river, Alex’s arm around the tiny shoulders of the old woman, as if protecting her from what was to come.

Oh my,
Abby thought with a sigh.
Well, at least it’s done. At least he knows the truth. Let’s see what, if anything, he’s willing to do about it.

20

“
T
his is a great dinner, Ab.” Alex winked at her across the table as he helped himself to more chicken. “The sauce is wonderful. Have you ever tried making it with portobello mushrooms?”

“Not since I’ve come to Primrose.” She laughed. “I fear that neither portobello nor shiitake have yet to grace the shelves of Foster’s market.”

“I’ll bring you some next weekend,” he promised. “Anything else you can’t get here that you’d like?”

“Are you kidding?” She rolled her eyes. “Let me count the
ways—fresh basil, pine nuts…”

“Ummm.” He nodded. “Sounds like pesto.”

“I am dying for it. Young Foster carries no fresh herbs.” Belle’s eyes flickered from Abby to Alex and back again in disbelief.

“Alexander.” She cleared her throat as she took pains to speak slowly, lest they think she was too excited. “Did you say you’d be back next weekend?”

“Why, yes, Gran, I did,” he told her solemnly. “Since Abby has fed me so well these last two visits, I thought the least I could do was come back and treat her to some of my world-famous vegetarian chili.”

“Why, that would be lovely, Alexander.” Belle nodded cheerily, wondering what in the world
vegetarian chili
could possibly be.

Not that it mattered. What mattered was that he would be back again. Soon. And that he and Abby would spend time together and get to know each other as adults. It had been foolish for her to have expected them to fall in love immediately, she admitted to herself. But it would, with the right luck, all work out in time. There would be the rest of this weekend and all of the next.

Belle felt a feather of hope tickle at her insides.

She cautioned herself not to get too hopeful. She wasn’t out of the woods yet, what with Abby so antsy to get the house fixed up so that she could sell it, and that stupid Melissa—brazen little hussy—chasing Alexander.

Belle looked across the table to the face of her beloved grandson, then to that of the young woman who had given life back to the old dreams she and Leila had shared.

I should tell Alexander that Melissa called while he and Abby were outside talking to Naomi and Colin,
she thought. Her toes wiggled as a surge of something akin to mischief swept over her.

There was such lively banter between them as they cleared the dinner table together. Alexander’s laughter, clear and strong and deep, floated down the hall from the kitchen. It was as she had hoped it would be—she and
Alexander and Abby, all happy together, here in Leila’s house. Here in Primrose. He’d be staying the night. Staying the weekend.

Later,
she mused.
I’ll tell him about the call later.
Anyway, Naomi had invited the
m over for birthday cake for Coli
n, and here was Abby with Belle’s coat. A phone call would hold them all up.

Maybe later,
she told herself as she slipped her thin arms into the sleeves of the coat Alex held for her. She watched with pleasure as he helped Abby into her jacket, then turned off the light on the sideboard, just like he belonged there.

Then again,
she considered as she pulled on her gloves,
maybe not.

“
Y
ou know, this entry just doesn’t look the same without that hall piece you used to have on this wall, Gran.” Alex shook his head and looked around at the house that had, for so many years, belonged to his family. “You remember, the piece with the tall mirror and the marble top on the table?”

“I certainly do.” Belle nodded, glad he was with her to hold on to, this first time she ventured into her home, which now belonged to someone else. She hadn’t been quite sure how she would feel, and so she had avoided it.

“Oh, my, Miz Matthews, I remember that, too. It had brass swans up around the top of the mirror.” Naomi took Belle’s arm as Colin took their coats. “What a lovely piece that was. We keep looking for something like it but so far haven’t found anything that even comes close.”

Naomi led Belle slowly into the living room.

“Well.” She seemed to hold her breath. “What do you think, Miz Matthews?”

Belle slowly studied the room, knowing that Naomi was seeking her approval of the newly papered walls and the furniture that was so very different from Belle’s own.

“Why, this is a lovely shade of green, Naomi.” Belle nodded. “Just lovely. And I just love the way you’ve filled the room with plants and light, dear.”

“Oh, Miz Matthews, are you just saying that?” Naomi asked earnestly.

“No, dear. You’ve trul
y made this your own home.” Bell
e swallowed a lump in her throat as she patted Naomi’s hand. “Which is just as it should be. Now, show me what you’ve done in the dining room. Oh, Alexander, do come see.”

“Do you think she is all right?” Colin whispered in Abby’s ear, nodding toward Belle as the threesome disappeared into the next room.

“I think she’ll be fine,” Abby assured him.

“It really means so much to Naomi that Miz Matthews feel
all right
about us having her house,” the husky blond man explained.

“Colin, there is no one Belle would feel
more
right about than you and Naomi. And it’s your house now, not Belle’s,” Abby reminded him as she followed him into the kitchen.

“Well, Naomi was worried that Miz Matthews wouldn’t like what we’ve done, or that she’d be upset about being here.”

“She seems to be just fine. And maybe it’s good that Alex’s h
ere with her, this first time sh
e’s come back.”

Abby peered into the dining room, where Naomi was showing off some pottery pieces she had made. Alex stood with his back to the door, but the mirrored sideboard reflected his concern as he studied his grandmother’s face. Abby, in turn, studied his.

He is still the only man who makes my heart beat faster and makes my hands shake.
Abby shook her head in grudging admission of her closest secret.
All these years later, he's still the only one.

But no one needs to know that.
She bit her lip and turned her face away from his reflection.
He may spend an occasional weekend in Primrose, but he’ll always be going back to his job and his real life and Melissa. And I cannot let myself forget that.

“Abby.” Meredy tugged at Abby’s hand. “Want to see the present me and Sam made for Daddy’s birthday?”

“I certainly do.” Abby smiled, pushing aside the sharp twinge that shot through her when Alex looked into the mirror and caught her gaze.

If I didn’t know better
—she winced as she turned from
him and followed Meredy into the den—
I’d swear that man could read my mind.

“See?” Sam pulled a
papier-mâché
badge from its wrappings. “It’s ’cause my daddy’s a policeman.”

“Sammy!” Meredy snatched the present from her younger brother’s hands. “Daddy’s supposed to unwrap it, not you!”

Sam’s wail of contrition brought his parents, followed by Alex and Belle, to investigate. Colin soothed Sam while Naomi placated Meredy by offering to hastily rewrap the gift in new paper. Alex guided Belle into a chair, then sat on a stool at her feet, her tiny hands held gently within his own. Abby could not hear what he was saying from across the room, but whatever it was, judging from the look of tenderness that crossed his grandmother’s face, the words were precisely the ones she needed to hear. Belle beamed and nodded enthusiastically. Abby smiled to herself. For Belle, coming here tonight had been the equivalent of facing her own personal dragon. Judging by her face, Belle had won the fight.

The birthday cake, an elaborate affair that looked for all the world like a 1966 Corvette, Colin’s dream car, was brought with celebratory fanfare into the dining room. The birthday song was sung, the candles blown out, and the cake cut and distributed to the small group. Abby poured a cup of coffee for herself at the sideboard and trailed Naomi into the den, where Colin sat unwrapping the present his wife and daughter had, only minutes earlier, rewrapped. The adults oohed and ahed over the gift so lovingly crafted by the two youngsters, who beamed their pleasure.

“See, Miz Matthews?” Meredy proudly showed Belle. “We painted it gold so it would look like Daddy’s real badge.”

“And it does indeed look just lik
e your daddy’s real badge,” Bell
e clucked. “Why, I can barely tell them apart myself.”

Abby sat down on the edge of the sofa just as Belle said, “And Colin, Alex and I have a gift for you, too.”

“Now, Miz Matthews,” Colin began a protest.

“You hear me out, now, Colin.” Belle straightened her back and pulled her chin up almost imperceptibly. “I’m very pleased to
be here. I
must admit that I was nervous about coming. After all, I lived in this house for more years than anyone else in this room has lived on this earth. I raised my daughter here, buried my husband from that very room.” She nodded in the direction of the front parlor. “But it’s your home now, Colin. Yours and Naomi’s.”

“Miz Matthews, you’re just gettin’ yourself all upset, now.” Naomi handed Belle a tissue with which she dabbed at wet eyes.

“It’s all right to be upset, Naomi,” Belle told her firmly. “It helps you to know you’re still alive. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, well, Alexander and I got to talking just now, and we both agree that the old hall piece—the one you’ve been looking to replace, Naomi—should come back to this house, where it belongs. And first
thing
tomorrow morning, Alexander is going out to the carriage house to find it. He’s certain he moved it over there when I moved in with Leila.”

“Miz Matthews, you would be good enough to sell that piece to us?” Naomi’s eyes widened. “Why, that’s a family piece. Alex, are you certain that you won’t want it someday?”

“Absolutely certain.” He nodded. “It belongs here. It will never belong anywhere else, Naomi.”

“It was Alexander’s idea, Naomi.” Belle patted the young woman on the back as Naomi bent to hug her with thanks. “But it’s a gift, dear, to you and Colin, for all you’ve done for me over the past year.”

"Miz Matthews, that’s most generous,” Colin told her, “most generous indeed. But we can’t possibly accept such a gift. It’s too valuable.”

“Now, Colin, you don’t want to insult my grandmother by refusing her present.” Alex stood up and folded his arms across his chest. “Won’t it be grand to see it there again in the front hall?”

He clapped Colin on the back, and they gravitated toward the front doo
r, followed by Bell
e and Naomi. The foursome stood in silence, each imagining how grand it would be.

Abby stood just outside the doorway, watching as the two families almost seemed to momentarily merge, as the family home of one became in truth the family home of the other. The proffered heirloom would seal the bond and serve to link the two families. Abby, feeling suddenly the outsider, made a quiet retreat to the dining room.

The sense of isolation hung over her for the rest of the evening and followed her to bed. She found herself in her own kitchen at two a
.
m
.,
her sleep disturbed by some old house noise or other. She poured a small glass of milk, snapped off the light, and went into the front parlor, where she cozied herself onto the loveseat and wrapped herself in Belle’s fuzzy afghan.

Pulling her feet up under her, she shuddered in the cold darkness and shrank back into the cushions. The feeling of isolation she had felt earlier returned to invade her. For so long, she had been accustomed to her role as a loner and had grown comfortable with the solitary nature of her life. Over the past few months, the solitude had been breached, as first Belle, then Naomi, had moved into her life. And now there was Alex.

She sighed very deeply, acknowledging that things were much more complicated than they had been just six short months ago. Back in Philadelphia, there had been no friend who mattered. In fact, she had never really had a girlfriend with whom she shared secrets and clothes and dreams, but she recalled how in junior high and high school, she had wistfully envied those girls who had. It was nice to have Naomi for a friend. She was fun and clever and capable and caring and warm, everything a friend should be. And Belle, feisty though she could be at times, was almost like the grandmother Abby had hardly known.

Abby found herself thinking how much she would miss them both when she left Primrose. Before too long, she was sniffling. She fumbled in the box next to the table for a tissue and blew her nose. She wiped her eyes and drew the warm blanket more tightly around her shoulders, crossing it over her chest to create a kind of cocoon in which she could ponder the pros and cons of letting people into your life.

A creak on the floorboards in the front hallway told her that Alex, too, was unable to sleep. Abby sank her small self as deeply into the cushions as possible and pulled the blanket over her head, hoping to remain undetected. The footfalls paused briefly outside the music room, before passing through to the opposite side of the house. Perhaps Alex was looking for something to read in Thomas’s study.