Carolina Mist (31 page)

He lifted her with one hand and opened the back door with the other. When they had crossed the threshold into the kitchen, he said, “Isn’t it your turn to carry me?”

“If you are waiting for me to carry you up the steps, it will be a very long night.” She laughed and took his hand and led him to the stairwell. “You could, of course, follow me.”

“Or you could follow me.”

“Someone wrote a song like
that
…
”

“Phil Collins. ‘Follow Me, Follow You.’ ”

“I thought it was ‘Follow You, Follow Me.’” She pondered.

“Whichever.” He dismissed its importance as they did, in fact, follow each other up the long staircase, circling each other on the steps like cats, then tiptoeing like ghosts down the hallway.

Abby quietly opened the door to the room she had prepared for him in the front of the house. The moonlight spilled across the antique bed with the high head and foot boards and the puffy feather mattress. As quietly as it had been opened, the door closed behind them. Abby tugged at the buttons of his shirt impatiently. Alex grabbed her hands to still them.

“Not until you say the magic words,” he told her solemnly.

“Please?” She frowned. “You want me to say ‘please’? Now, there’s
a real mood breaker for you…
”

“No.” He laughed. “I want you to tell me.”

“Tell you?” She eased her fingers from his grasp and continued to unbutton his shirt, this time without his interference. “Tell you that I love you? That you are the only dream that I’ve ever had? That all I ever wanted
was
…
”

Whatever it had been that was all Abby had ever wanted would have to wait, because he could not. And by the time
the moon had passed the rising sun on its way to the dawn, even Abby wasn’t certain of what she had been about to say. Not that it mattered. By that time, every dream she had ever had had become her reality, and every promise that could be made had been pledged. By the time Sunday dawned over Primrose, there was nothing left to wish for. Everything that mattered was hers.

I
t was late when Abby awoke, almost eight
a.m.
according to the clock on the bedroom mantel. Certain that Belle would be wondering where she was, Abby tried to ease herself out of bed without waking Alex. Just as she was about to lift herself off the side of the mattress, a hand wrapped like a steel band around her wrist.

“And where do you think you are going?” Alex whispered.

“Downstairs.” She leaned back across the bed to kiss his chin. “To make breakfast.”

“That’s my job,” he reminded her with mock indignation. “I am the Sunday morning breakfast guy around here.”

“Then you had better get yourself up, dressed, and into the kitchen.” She pulled the nightshirt she had discarded the night before over her head. “And take care of business.”

“What’s the big hurry?” He yawned and covered his mouth with the back of his hand. “Gran’s
probably already had her tea…”

“And Sunny has already made the coffee. But we—that is, Sunny and I—invited Drew to come to the town fair with us today, and he will be here in an hour.”

Alex groaned.

“Don’t you dare.” She looked over her shoulder. “You are going to make every effort to be his friend, Alex.”

“Fine. I’ll make a few extra waffles.”

“That’s what I want to hear.” She blew him a kiss from the doorway, but that being a totally unsatisfactory beginning to what she felt would be a glorious day, she plunked herself on his side of the bed and cuddled up to him just
long enough to kiss him soundly and tell him, “You will like Drew, I promise you will. But you have to give him a chance.”

“Okay. I will be his friend. I will be his best friend. I will be like a brother to him, if it makes you happy.” Alex sighed. “Now, get back to your room and dress yourself properly, or no one will have waffles this morning.”

35

“
T
his was a stroke of genius,” Alex acknowledged as they removed the wheelchair from the trunk of Drew’s car.

“Well, I sure hope that Miz Matthews thinks so.” Drew sighed. “I hope she’s not insulted. But she had mentioned that she hadn’t been to a town fair in so many years, and she sounded sort of wistful about it, you know?”

“I think it’s perfect,” Alex told him. “There is no way that my grandmother could walk all the way into town and walk around all afternoon. This way, she’ll be able to go and see everything and everyone and not have to worry about getting tired or tripping over someone else’s big feet.”

“I hope she sees it that way.” Drew grimaced as he carried the chair to the foot of the porch steps and placed it on the grass. “I’m almost afraid to tell her.”

“You stay right there.” Alex bounded up the front steps. “I’ll go get her and bring her out.”

Halfway through the door, Alex paused and turned back to Drew. “Thanks, Drew. This was very thoughtful.”

Drew nodded. He seemed to be holding his breath until Alex returned with Belle, who at first appeared taken aback that anyone would think she would need such assistance. But Alex sweet-talked her into sitting in it and letting him take her for a ride. In the end, it hadn’t taken much to convince Belle that the wheelchair was the only way she’d
be getting into Primrose proper that day, cars being banned from the center of town for the fair.

“Thank you, Alexander.” She reached for her grandson to lean down so that she could kiss his cheek. “How very kind. How very thoughtful.”

“Thank Drew, Gran,” Alex told her. “He brought it for you.”

“Did he, now?” Belle exclaimed, and she turned to look up at Drew from where she sat in her rented conveyance.

Drew sat on the bottom step and watched the old woman as she turned the wheels to spin the chair slowly in his direction.

“Thank you, young man,” she said softly. “I appreciate your kindness.”

“It’s my pleasure, Miz Matthews,” he told her. “Didn’t seem right to go off to celebrate Primrose and leave you behind.”

“Would you mind pushing me for a block or so, Drew?”

“My privilege.” He nodded.

“Now, where is Abigail?” Belle gestured to Alex. “Could you please tell her and Sunny to come along? I can’t wait to get to the fair, now that I know I am going. Oh, yes, indeed.” Her eyes shone as she looked up at the two young men who stood by her chair. “This will be a
very
fine day.”

“
W
hich committee are you signing up for?” Naomi peered over Abby’s shoulder at the booth set up to attract new members and volunteers for the Friends of Primrose, the budding civic association that had become Naomi’s latest project.

“I shouldn’t sign up for anything,” Abby replied, “since my stay in Primrose is uncertain.”

“Honey,
everybody’s
stay is uncertain, if you know what I mean.” Naomi’s eyes twinkled as she handed Abby the pen and pointed to a sheet of looseleaf paper. “I would definitely consider the garden tour if I were you, Abby. Another month or so, and we’ll have that place looking near as good as it did when Miz Cassidy tended it. What do you say?
What are the chances of you finding a job and selling the house before two months have passed?”

Abby signed her name on the line.

“You sure have had some interesting houseguests this week.” Naomi grinned, observing both Alex and Drew in conversation over by the table that sought recruits for the planned Civil War reenactment that fall.

“You don’t know the half of it.” Abby laughed.

“Everyone appears to be getting along.”

“I made Alex promise he’d make an honest attempt to get to know Drew before passing judgment,” Abby told her, “and, so far, I have to say that they have been very cordial to each other.”

“That’s good.”

“And Drew made points with everyone by having the foresight to rent a wheelchair for Belle so that she could come to the fair.” Abby nodded toward where Belle sat in the shade of a sweet gum, surrounded by a number of old friends and acquaintances who were obviously pleased with her company.

“Is that just the sweetest thing?” Naomi sat in the folding chair Colin had insisted she bring with her so that she could occasionally take the pressure off her leg. “There are many times when I could use one of those things myself. Come to think of it, we have one in the attic. I used it for a long while after my accident. Why, we could get it down, and Miz Matthews could have use of it whenever.”

“Mommy, look.” A beaming Meredy zipped up to them and unrolled a sort of white felt banner. She held it up for her mother and Abby to see. “It’s a picture of me and Lilly right on this fabric. Lilly got one, too. There’s a man with a special kind of camera over there.”

“Friends forever,” the banner declared in bright red, fuzzy letters right under the smiling faces of the two little girls.

“If that isn’t the cutest thing,” Naomi declared solemnly. “And don’t you have the perfect spot for it right there between those two big windows in your room.”

Meredy nodded happily and handed the banner to her mother to hold.

“Now, where are you off to, Meredy?”

“Susannah said we could go on the pony rides over at Foster’s.”

“Don’t wander off, sugar,” Naomi called to her daughter’s back as Meredy sprinted in the direction of Foster’s store. “Honestly, that child will give me heart failure one of these days. She just
goes,
without giving thought to where or whatever.”

“I think she’s safe, Naomi. She’s already caught up with Sunny, and Colin is here.” Abby nodded toward the center of the street, where Colin and two other members of Primrose’s police force conferred.

“I know she’s safe, Abby. I just like to know where she
is.
”

“We’ll all keep an eye on her,” Abby assured her, “so go ahead and sign up that crew that just wandered over to the table. Give them your ‘Primrose needs you’ speech. The one you give me every chance you get.”

“Primrose does need you, Abby.” Naomi tossed the words over her shoulder as she approached the three couples who had stopped to study the display of old photographs depicting Primrose in its heyday. “Almost as much as you need Primrose.”

I’m beginning to think she may be right,
Abby admitted to herself as she turned away toward the crowded street.
For all the good it will do me.

She wandered toward the Civil War displays where she had last seen Alex and Drew. The size of the crowd was increasing steadily, the churches having opened their doors to spill their congregations out onto the streets of Primrose to show their civic pride. Abby strolled over toward the town green, where table after table of jams and breads, jars of piccalilli and pickled cauliflower, painted wooden garden ornaments, hats adorned with dried flowers, beaded jewelry, and mounded rounds of sweet potato pies and lemon pound cakes stretched from sidewalk to sidewalk.

Abby paused before the display of wooden toys and ran a small train on smooth wooden wheels back and forth across the front of the table. Hand-carved animals guarded a small cottage around which seven carved men stood. In the doorway stood a woman in a long dress. Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, their cozy home in the woods, and their tiny animal friends, all painstakingly crafted from lengths of wood that were burnished and polished and stained naturally so that the characters from the children’s fairy tale became works of art. On one side of the table stood a chess set with fairy-tale characters in place of the usual figures. Abby marveled as she lifted Beauty and the Beast to admire the cleverness and skill of the craftsman who had first envisioned and then created such fine and tiny sculptures. Turning from the table to seek out Alex, wanting to show him these tiny works of art, she collided with a young blond woman whose mind was obviously elsewhere.

“Oh!” Abby exclaimed as her elbow knocked the woman’s purse to the ground. Bending to retrieve it, Abby attempted to apologize, but the woman merely snatched up the purse and hurried on, leaving the heavy scent of her perfume hanging like a curtain between Abby and the table of wooden ornaments.

Gardenia.
Abby unconsciously identified the fragrance and, spotting Alex and Drew at that precise moment, waved them over.

“You have to see what this man has done with wood,” she told them both. “The most incredibly intricate carvings you could imagine. Can you imagine what stores in the cities would charge for something of this quality and design?”

Alex turned over the white tag, which bore a ridiculously low price.

“Five times what he is asking.” Drew nodded.

“At least,” Alex agreed as he inspected one of the Dwarfs. “Sleepy, I believe,” he told Abby.

Something plunked onto her head, and she reached her hands upward to feel the floppy straw brim of the hat that had landed on her head. Laughing, she removed it and
turned at the sound of girlish laughter. Meredy and Lilly giggled as Abby held the hat out before her.

“The girls and I agreed it was you,” Sunny said, “so we had to have it. You need to cover that fair skin of yours when you are working outside.”

“This is definitely a Primrose gardening hat,” Abby agreed, and she plunked it back upon her head. “Thank you so much.”

“It looks great on you,” Alex told her as he straightened the brim.

“Meredy and Lilly are ready for lunch. How ’bout joining us? There are certainly plenty of choices.” Sunny gazed around at the various vendors. “What are we in the mood for? I see Miz Matthews has already found some friends to dine with.”

“Those are ladies from her church,” Abby noted, following Sunny’s gaze to the opposite side of the square, where Belle sat at a table with several other white-haired ladies and gentlemen, all seeming to be enjoying the lunches they removed from the white cardboard cartons being served by the minister’s wife, “and it appears that she is having one heck of a good time.”

“Well, the Primrose Cafe gets my vote,” Alex said. “They have tables set up out under the tree, so you can have some fresh air and gentle breezes with your hushpuppies and barbecue.”

“Sounds good to me.” Abby nodded. “Drew, is that okay with you?”

“What?” Drew asked.

“I said, is the Primrose Cafe all right with you for lunch?”

“Oh, sure. Look, you all go on over. I’ll join you in a few minutes.” Drew appeared to be looking beyond the small group to someplace over near the bandstand.

“We’ll wait for you if there’s something you want to see,” Abby told him.

“No. You go ahead and get a table. I just want to take a quick look at the used books.”

“Okay.” Abby shrugged and, taking two long strides, caught up with Alex and Sunny, who had already taken off
to keep up with the little girls, who were excitedly planning their after-lunch pony rides. Rounding the co
rn
er of the cafe, Abby glanced back over her shoulder and sought Drew’s form in the crowd. She stopped and searched the small gathering in front of the used-book table, then glanced up and down the concourse formed by the tables running along either side of the green, but he was nowhere to be seen. Just as she was about to turn back, she saw him, just to the left of the bandstand, just at the moment when he was joined by a young blond woman in a short denim skirt and a cropped flowered sweater, the same woman Abby had collided with earlier.

As Abby watched, the woman reached behind her and pulled the ribbon from her hair, which spilled in a golden river around her face and shoulders. There appeared to be some conversation, then, abruptly, the woman’s hands were firmly planted on her hips, and, judging from the movements of her head, she had words for Drew that were obviously not ones that would be exchanged with a stranger. His gestures were those of protest, Abby thought, as she observed the strange scene.

Now, why wouldn’t he tell us he had a friend here?
she wondered, as Alex stepped back around the co
rn
er and grabbed her by the hand.

“Come on, pokey. We got the last table in the shade,” he told her, oblivious to the fact that her attention was focused elsewhere.

And where have I seen her before?

“
M
ommy, I’m so tired,” Lilly whined, her little lower lip jutting out just the tiniest bit. “Can’t you carry me?”

“My arms are full, sugar,” Sunny told her, “with all the fun things we bought today.”

“Come here, Lilly.” Drew opened his arms, and Lilly walked into them. He swung her onto his shoulders and moved to the head of the little procession that headed wearily toward Cove Road.

“Look, Meredy, I’m riding!” Lilly called down to her friend.

“I think I’m too big to ride,” Meredy told her.

“I don’t think so.” Alex laughed and hoisted her atop his own shoulders so that both little girls could ride back to Cove Road.

Abby sidled next to Alex, and he smiled down at her, stepping to the side of the walkway to permit Naomi, who was pushing Belle’s wheelchair, to pass them. With one hand, he supported Meredy. His free hand sought Abby’s own.