River's Song - The Inn at Shining Waters Series (23 page)

Still trying not to fret over her absent daughter, Anna carried the folding lawn chairs over to the bonfire area, arranging them in a semicircle that looked past the burn pile out across the river. She remembered when her dad used to have fires like this, usually in the fall, and how she always looked forward to them. Her plan was to enjoy this one and, since not much landscaping maintenance had been done the past few years, there would be more than enough cuttings for another fire in the fall.

Having heard the news of Anna's disappointment, Babette joined them for dinner and brought along dessert and a bottle of her best Burgundy. After dinner, all three women lingered in the kitchen to clean up. "Looks like it's cooling off out there,"Anna said as she noticed the fog rolling in. "We might want to bundle up a bit before we go out."

Shortly before sundown, they all gathered around the pile, waiting as Marshall held up the lit torch that he'd put together to ignite the fire.

"I feel like this is a dedication," Hazel said ceremoniously." I think we should all say something about the establishment of Anna's inn."

"Oui!" Babette agreed. "Like a toast!"

"You start it off, Marshall," Hazel urged him. "Then light the fire."

"Here's to The Inn at Shining Waters and all the glorious enormous fish that will be caught by the people who come to stay here!" Now he threw the torch onto the pile and everyone cried, "Hear! Hear!"

"Here ees to all the lovely guests who come to The Inn at Shining Waters," Babette said, "May they eat well and laugh a lot and make reservation to come back again and again!"

Anna laughed. "Hear! Hear!"

"And may those guests all be as blessed and refreshed as I have been during my stay," Hazel said. "May their souls and their spirits be restored and renewed."

Everyone agreed and now Clark spoke up. "Here's to Anna, the Queen of Shining Waters, may she be greatly blessed just as she greatly blesses others."

She thanked him, but now everyone was looking at her. "I'd like to say something too." She smiled shyly. "Here's to my new friends, who are becoming like family. Thank you all for helping me get to this place. I will treasure you always."

"Hear! Hear!"

The fire began to take hold and they made themselves comfortable in the lawn chairs, visiting and laughing and eating s'mores and even singing a couple of old camp songs led by Marshall and Babette.

Then Hazel stood. "Before I turn in for the night, I'd like to tell a final story—one that I transcribed recently."

"Please," Babette said eagerly. "Tell us!"

"I found this one particularly touching because it seems that it's a true story about something that really happened to Anna's grandmother."

"Really?"Anna was intrigued.

"That's my best guess. Perhaps you've heard it before." Now she began to tell about a time when Pearl was a girl. "I'm guessing she was about sixteen," Hazel clarified. "They were on their way home from the reservation and Pearl must've been a pretty girl—perhaps like Anna here, only younger. Somewhere along the way, perhaps even on the reservation, Pearl had caught the eye of a young man named John."

"My grandfather,"Anna said.

"Yes. And the reason I know your grandmother was attractive, well, besides the old photo you showed me, is because there were quite a few young women traveling in the group— and it seems the men were rather limited in number so John could afford to be choosy. Apparently John was very interested in your grandmother. Trying hard to get her attention and not succeeding. But she was being coy or playing hard to get, or perhaps she was simply shy. So one morning John went out to forage for food and he returned to camp with a big bag of oysters. And as he shucked the oysters, he found a number of pearls."

"Yes!"Anna exclaimed. "I do remember this story."

"Perhaps you'd like to finish it." Hazel looked hopeful. "I'd love to hear your version."

Anna nodded then, following Hazel's example, she too stood. "I hope I can get this right. Like Hazel said, my grandfather, John, was finding some pearls as he shucked the oysters. So he gave these pearls to the other girls traveling with them. But he didn't give a single one to my grandmother—whose name happened to be
Pearl."

Hazel chuckled. "And Pearl was none too happy about it either."

"In fact, she was downright angry about being slighted like that." Anna folded her arms as if she too were mad. "Pearl glared at John, then stomped off down the beach until she found a rock where she sat down and pouted alone." Anna suddenly remembered how her daughter acted like that sometimes.

"Then what happened?" Marshall asked eagerly.

"John went and found Pearl and asked her why she was so angry."

"He did not know?" Babette looked skeptical.

"Maybe he did. Anyway, Pearl demanded to know why John had given the pearls to all the other girls, but had given none to her. Especially after he'd acted so interested in her. She told him he was a mean, mean man."

"What did he say about that?" Marshall asked.

"John told her that the pearls were worthless."

"Worthless?" Babette looked shocked.

"It seems the pearls were misshapen and flawed and not fully formed,"Anna explained. "John told my grandmother that he'd hoped to find at least one smooth, lovely pearl to present to her. But he'd been disappointed to find none of them were good enough for her. He explained that it would be wrong to present a less than perfect pearl to a perfect Pearl." Anna chuckled. "And that was how my grandfather captured my grandmother's heart."

Anna sat back down and looked into the snapping and crackling fire, watching as a pitchy piece of wood popped, shooting a shower of sparks into the darkened sky. This day had not turned out as she had hoped it would . . . but perhaps it was still a perfect day.

Life on the river became strangely quiet after Anna's guests departed. No more hammering or sawing, no big deliveries arriving from Henry, no more happy chatter around her big table at mealtime. While a part of her welcomed the slower pace and solitude, another part of her felt somewhat lonely. She kept herself occupied by adding the final touches to the rooms in the inn, working in her garden, putting up produce, and getting herself geared up for all the guests she hoped would soon be coming her way. And every single day, whether it was sunny, foggy, misty, or drizzling, she took out her canoe and experienced the river. Really, it wasn't a bad way to live. Still, she found herself longing for something more.

"You need advertisements," Babette told Anna one morning. Babette had surprised her by dropping by with pastries." In newspapers and magazines."

"I'm not sure I can afford that. Not just yet."

"Can you afford not?" Babette stirred cream into her coffee. Anna sighed. "You're probably right. I guess I should look into it."

"Why not let me help you, chérie? Do not forget, I was once businesswoman."

Anna remembered how Babette was naturally gifted at business, and how her parents had been dismayed when her second husband insisted she quit the store.

"You leave everything to me." Babette smiled with confidence." Your guests, they will come."

"Don't forget I've only got five rooms and a cabin available right now." Anna explained how she wanted to have an open house. "But I thought I should wait until the other four cabins are built, and that won't be until late November."

"Too bad your clever carpenter ees gone. When will he return, chérie?"

"I'm not sure." Anna missed him too. "Clark had business to attend to. He said it might be up to a couple of weeks before he comes back."

Babette leaned forward. "He ees handsome, no?"

Anna smiled.

"His eyes light when he sees you, Anna. I think he ees in love."

Anna laughed nervously.

"Why ees this humorous, chérie? Do you not find him attractive?"

"Of course, he's attractive." Anna waved her hand dismissively.

"Not your type?"

"Oh, Babette."

Babette held up a forefinger. "Aha, I see eet een your eyes, Anna. You care for Clark. Eyes do not lie, chérie."

"Even if that's so, what difference does it make? Clark has his work, his life, his home—and they're not here on the river."

"Perhaps not yet."

As they cleared the coffee things, Babette continued to babble on about Clark, saying what a fine man he was and how she was certain that he had deep feelings for Anna, as if by simply saying this made it so. And even if it were true, it only made Anna uncomfortable. Because she felt certain she wouldn't be able to tear herself away from the river, not even for someone like Clark. She had no desire to live in a city. As much as she cared for Clark, she would hate to be forced to make that kind of a decision.

Linking arms with Babette, Anna walked her down to the dock. "Looks like we're going to get some more weather." She nodded toward the western sky where gray clouds were gathering.

Babette pointed in the opposite direction. "Who ees that?"

"Eet ees Danner's boat," Babette observed.

Anna turned to see the small motorboat coming toward the dock.

"Dorothy!"Anna exclaimed when she recognized the redhead at the helm.

Sure enough, it was Dorothy waving as she pulled into the dock. Anna hurried to secure her boat as Dorothy hopped out. The two women squealed and hugged.

"I can't believe it!"Anna exclaimed as she studied her old childhood friend. "You've hardly changed a bit."

Dorothy laughed. "Other than putting on about forty pounds!"

"You were always too skinny,"Anna told her.

Dorothy looked closely at her. "The years have been kind to you."

Anna chuckled. "I don't know about that."

"Well, you look just the same to me."

Babette hugged Dorothy now, promising to see her later. "I must hurry home to miss the rain."

Dorothy frowned at the darkening sky. "Maybe I should head back home too."

"Oh, please, stay,"Anna begged. "We need to catch up."

"Oui," Babette called out as she started up her engine. "You stay with Anna, Dorothy. You must see her inn."

So Anna gave Dorothy a quick tour of the renovated cabin, the bathhouse, and downstairs rooms. All the while they asked questions and exchanged information, trying to make up for the last twenty years in less than twenty minutes. Of course, Anna didn't tell Dorothy everything—not because she didn't want her friend to know, but simply because Anna didn't want to add sadness to this unexpected and happy reunion.

Big fat raindrops were just starting to pelt them as they hurried up the stairs. "Now, you'll have to stay awhile,"Anna said as they rushed into the house.

"Oh, Anna!" Dorothy exclaimed as they went inside. "This room—it's just lovely. Everything you've done in your inn is so inviting and warm. I wish I could stay with you during my whole visit on the river."

"You're more than welcome to stay." Anna laughed. "It's not like I have anyone else here right now."

"You should see how crowded my parents' little house is right now. Both my girls came with me. They're crammed into my old bedroom. And I'm sleeping on the couch."

"Bring them over here if you like." Now Anna showed Dorothy the other improvements and how the upstairs bedrooms were ready for guests too.

"Everything is just perfect, Anna." Dorothy sighed. "So comfortable, and yet it's unique and interesting too."

Anna thanked her, explaining how she hoped the inn would reflect some of her grandmother's ideals. "Things like quietness, wholeness, healing . . . the serenity of the river. And, really, you're welcome to stay here."

"You honestly mean that?" Dorothy's blue eyes looked hopeful.

"Of course." Anna turned on some lamps and lit a fire in the fireplace, explaining how her own daughter and friends were supposed to have been here, but that they had canceled at the last minute. "So, truly, I'd love to have some company."

Before long it was settled: Dorothy called her parents' house and explained the plan and, after visiting for several hours, fixing some lunch, and waiting for the rain to stop, they set out to fetch Dorothy's preteen girls. Jill and Joanna already had their bags packed and seemed thrilled at the prospect of staying in an inn. Even Dorothy's parents seemed relieved, and Anna invited them to come over to share some meals.

The next few days passed far too quickly. Anna loved hosting her friend and the girls. They did all the things she'd hoped to do with Lauren and her friends—boating, swimming, fishing, and lighting campfires—but on the last night there, after the girls had gone to bed, Dorothy confessed to Anna that her marriage was in serious trouble. She had discovered that her husband had been involved with another woman. "I'm just devastated," she said sadly. "I don't know what I'm going to do—to stay or to go. Either option feels hopeless to me. I came out here hoping to figure things out."

Anna didn't know what to say.

"I'd leave him, but I can't imagine being on my own at my age." Dorothy frowned and shook her head. "I don't have any job skills or source of income. I feel so helpless, and hurt, and then I get angry."

"Do you still love him?"

Dorothy's mouth twisted to one side. "I shouldn't. But I suppose I do."

"Do you think he still loves you?"

"He says he does."

"Do you think you can ever forgive him?"

Dorothy held up her hands. "I don't know. He swears he'll never do it again. But how can I be sure?"

Now Anna told her about her mother-in-law and then she explained about the violets and how it wasn't easy, but how she was trying to forgive Eunice. "It's like a friend of mine told me, forgiveness is a process. But I'm working on it. In fact, I've been thinking about this very thing this past week. Like I mentioned, I want this inn to be special, a place of healing, and I feel certain that forgiveness has a direct link to healing."

Dorothy slowly nodded. "I sort of understand that. Constantly being angry at Ralph makes my stomach hurt. I honestly think it could be giving me an ulcer. You should see how I go through the Pepto-Bismol."

"I wouldn't be surprised if it was making you ill. Bitterness is like a sickness."

They talked late into the night, and before Dorothy went to bed she decided she was going to attempt to forgive her husband. "I think it's what I really wanted to do all along," she admitted, "but I just didn't think he deserved it. Now I'm going to remember those violets."

Anna thought of Lauren as she got ready for bed. Although she'd already forgiven her daughter, she wasn't too sure that her daughter had forgiven her. What if Lauren's bitterness made her sick? Anna didn't want to see that happen. Tomorrow, after Dorothy and the girls were gone, Anna would attempt to call her daughter again.

To Anna's relief, Lauren answered the phone. And when Lauren realized it was her mother, she didn't even sound angry. "I'm so glad I reached you,"Anna said. "I was afraid you might've already gone off to school."

"No, school doesn't start for a couple of weeks."

"The reason I'm calling, besides wanting to hear your voice, is to tell you I'm sorry and that I hope you'll forgive me."

"Forgive you for what?" Lauren sounded truly oblivious.

"Well, I know that I hurt you by leaving—you told me that several times. Although I felt I had to leave."

"Yeah, I sort of understand that now. And I am going off to school. And I know that Grandmother can be a drag. You probably needed a break."

"And then you thought I was trying to take her money, Lauren. And I want you to know that's over with. Mostly, I just don't want you to be angry at me. It's not good for you and it's not good for us. I just want you to know that I love you, honey. I know I've made mistakes in being a mom, but I do love you."

"I know that, Mom. And Grandmother said that you'd backed down from your lawsuit. Although she thinks you might be trying to pull some sort of trick. You aren't, are you?"

"No, Lauren. Not at all. I told my lawyer friend to let Mr. Miller know that I don't want anything from your father's estate. I just want to be free to live my own life."

"So you're never coming home?"

"My home is here on the river, Lauren. I've really fixed the place up. I hope you'll come see it someday." Now she told her about how Dorothy and her girls had visited and had a good time. "I think you'd like it."

"I'll come see it . . . someday. Maybe after school starts— like for a weekend or during holidays."

"That would be wonderful, darling."

They talked a while longer, but then Lauren told her that Donald Thomas would soon be there to pick her up. "And I need to do my hair."

"So you're still dating Donald?"

"Yeah." She let out a happy-sounding sigh. "I think I might be in love, Mom."

As much as she appreciated being confided to, Anna had to bite her tongue. "Oh . . . really?"

"Yeah. And maybe when I come to visit you, I'll bring Donald with me. He loves to go fishing."

"Sure." Anna felt uneasy, but was determined not to show it." September is a good fishing month on the river."

"Great. I'll tell him that." Now they said good-bye and, although she was relieved to know that Lauren was no longer angry with her, Anna felt worried about the seriousness of this ongoing relationship with Donald Thomas. But perhaps she was just being judgmental. Maybe people could change, and maybe she was wrong about him.

Anna was surprised to hear the sound of a motor interrupting the stillness of a sunny afternoon, but it wasn't coming from the river. She dropped the hoe she'd been using and walked over to the other side of the house, and there was Clark's blue pickup driving through the meadow. An unexpected surge of joy rushed through her, and she felt her cheeks flush.
He was back!
Attempting to compose herself, she walked over to greet him, suddenly wishing he'd given her some notice. Today had been a gardening day and she was wearing an old pair of her dad's overalls with the legs rolled up like clam diggers, and her hair was in two braids.