The Best of Times: A Dicken's Inn Novel (25 page)

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

Chas wanted to believe him, but she had no illusions over the kind of work he did.

They quickly established a routine. He usually called her on his way in to work so she could help him get through the traffic stress while she worked in the kitchen on mornings when guests were there. She only mentioned once that her neck was hurting from holding the phone on her shoulder while she worked, and two days later a phone headset arrived by FedEx with a note that said she was going to get a lot of good out of it, and he didn’t want her neck to hurt. This way she could put the cordless phone in the pocket of her apron and go anywhere in the inn and do anything she needed to do.

Most of the time he called her at least once during the day when he had a break, but that call was always brief. Sometimes he was in the office, or even on a stakeout, but more often he was out somewhere, driving to and from odd places. And Chas’s favorite time of day became the bedtime call, when both of them had timed it to have everything taken care of and be ready for bed so they could talk until they got sleepy. She enjoyed hearing more about his work, although he was vague about much of what he did. He mostly liked to tell her funny things about the people he worked with, and she came to know many of them by name and by their individual quirks.

She suspected that he had a fair amount of authority in his particular branch of the agency, but he wouldn’t admit to anything. He’d talked to her in detail of his difficult feelings upon initially returning to work, and the awkwardness he’d felt in some respects. But everyone had been kind, and after a few days he said it all felt like things were back to normal—except for the conspicuous absence of a man he had become accustomed to working with closely over many years. He talked to her about visiting Dave’s widow, and how
her
kindness had also soothed his own wounds. She and her children were going to be moving to the city where she’d grown up so they could be near family, and he believed that was a good thing. He also talked about Ken, the man he’d been acquainted with who had done such horrible things, and how his absence in the office felt strange in a horrible way. He had also visited Ken’s widow and was pleased to find her doing relatively well.

For Chas, life at the inn went on as it had for years, except that Granny’s absence was difficult every day—and so was Jackson’s. But his phone calls, and simply knowing that he was out there and he loved her, kept her going and made it possible to feel some joy in spite of her loneliness. Polly’s presence didn’t hurt any, but it just wasn’t the same.

About a month after he’d returned home, Jackson called to say, “Could I speak to someone in bookkeeping, please?”

“That’s me,” Chas said.

“Can you explain to me why there has been no charge on my credit card for the Dickensian Inn?”

“Maybe you missed it.”

“Don’t get sassy with me, Chas. Fix the mistake and run the charge.”

“How can I charge you for becoming my best friend . . . or holding me together through my grandmother’s death, or—”

“Those things are irrelevant to the fact that I came there as a customer and I used the services of the inn every day for weeks. You need the money and I know it. You might think you’re pretty clever in getting me to believe that it’s a thriving business, but I recognize the signs of making ends meet. And I will
not
contribute to the burdens in your life. Give me a discount if it will make you feel better, but run the charge or I will never speak to you again.”

“That is
not
funny.”

“It’s not intended to be. I need integrity in this relationship. I need to know that I wasn’t some charity case that you took in like a stray dog.”

“That’s pride talking, Jackson.”

“You bet it is!”

“You’re really angry.”

“You bet I am! And you don’t want to find out what I might do to get even for something like this. Just . . . run the charge and we’ll drop it now.”

“You’re threatening me.”

“Call it what you like. Just do it.”

“I’m not some terrorist suspect, Agent Leeds. I’m not going to be bullied or intimidated into anything. If you don’t know me any better than that, I just might charge you double.”

“Fine, you do that. Do it today. Do it now.”

Chas realized what she’d just said and almost hissed at him, “That’s what you
want
me to do. You’re just trying to get
me
angry so I
will
charge you. Well, forget it. I love you and I’m not going to charge someone I love for staying in my home. For most people it’s an inn; for you it’s my home. It felt good to open my home to someone I care about and to know that you found joy here. Are you going to deny me that?” He didn’t answer. “If you can’t understand why I didn’t charge you, then maybe I won’t talk to
you
anymore.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Maybe.”

“You couldn’t do it any more than I could. Just run the charge and we’ll drop it.”

“Just keep your stupid money,” she said and hung up.

For the rest of the day Chas was afraid that he
wouldn’t
call, or if he did, that he would still be angry. But he called at bedtime and was more calm. He didn’t say anything more about the issue, but she wondered how he would feel when he realized in a few days that she wasn’t going to run the charge. He was right. She
did
need the money. But she couldn’t bring herself to charge this man for anything. It just didn’t seem right.

* * * * *

Jackson waited three days to see if Chas would bill him anything at all. When she didn’t, it took another two days of calling the inn in the middle of the day before Polly answered the phone.

“Hey, it’s me, Jackson.”

“Hi, Jackson!” she said with ridiculous exuberance. “The place isn’t the same without you.”

“I’m not the same without the place, either.”

They exchanged some small talk, and he learned that Chas had gone on some errands. “But you can call her cell phone. Do you want the—”

“I have the number. I want to talk to you. Could you please tell me where Chas sends her mortgage payments for the inn?”

“Why?” she asked with a suspicion that didn’t surprise him.

“None of your business. And I don’t want you to tell Chas that I asked you.”

“Why?” she said with more fervor.

“Just answer the question, Polly.”

“I don’t know if I should.”

“I can find out, you know. I’m in the FBI.”

“Then why did you call me?”

“This is more legal.”

“Intimidating your girlfriend’s friends? Is that what you mean?”

“No law against that. Just tell me which bank.”

“Don’t you need a warrant, or something?”

“I’m not asking for anything but the name of a bank, okay? I want to surprise her. It’s a good thing, Polly. Think of it as conspiring for a surprise party . . . only better.”

“Okay,” she drawled, still suspicious but more calm.

“Come on, Polly. Just give me a name.”

“I would know you’re FBI even if I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, it shows. Give me the name.”

“Fine,” she snarled, and told him.

“Thank you,” he said. “Now, don’t go spoiling my surprise.”

“It had better be good,” she said, and he hung up without a good-bye.

* * * * *

Chas went to the office to go over the usual details with Polly and found her wearing a strange expression. She looked both nervous and delighted.

“What?” Chas demanded.

“I think you’d better sit down.”

“Why?”

“Just . . . sit down.”

“Okay,” Chas said and did.

Polly handed her a piece of paper that had two folds in it. “This came in today’s mail.”

Chas looked it over and gasped. “What
is
this?”

“It appears to be a notification that your mortgage has been paid in full.”

“Well, it’s a mistake.”

“Not a mistake. I called them. The payoff amount they received was just a little off. You’ll be getting a bill for eleven dollars and forty-two cents. Of course, they wanted us to know that it has been a pleasure doing business, and they regret that they couldn’t have dragged the payments out for many more years in order to soak as much interest out of you as they possibly could.” Chas listened to Polly, feeling dazed and completely baffled. “You should really close your mouth,” Polly said. “You could trap flies with the way it’s hanging open.”

Chas closed her mouth and swallowed hard. “I don’t understand.”

“Oh, I think you do,” Polly said. She leaned over the desk and spoke in a stage whisper. “I think it was your boyfriend.”

Chas sucked in her breath and had trouble letting it go. “That . . . that . . .”

Polly chuckled. “Since you have a rule about not swearing, you can’t think of anything to call him, can you.”

Chas just groaned and rushed out of the office to find a place where she could call Jackson without being overheard. Although she suspected Polly would be impressed when she responded to his hello with, “You are a dirty rotten conniving manipulative creep!”

“I love you too,” he said.

“It’s okay to keep
your
pride by wounding mine?”

“Is that what you think I did?”

“How else should I interpret this? Remember that deal we made over Christmas gifts? Well, you went way over budget.”

“You broke that rule first. So don’t start lecturing me or comparing this to a ten-dollar gift limit.”

“You have no idea what—”

“Why don’t you shut up for a minute and—”

“Don’t tell me to shut up.”

“Fine. Will you please be quiet for a minute and listen to me? I made the decision to pay off the mortgage before I ever left the inn. I suspected you wouldn’t charge me, and I was just using it as an excuse to get even.”

Chas was so stunned that it took her a long moment to speak. “So, you’re admitting that you’re conniving and manipulative?”

“I don’t have any trouble admitting to that. Don’t forget that I’m a dirty rotten creep.”

“I can’t accept it, Jackson. It’s too much. It wouldn’t be right.”

“You can and you will.”

“You’re awfully bossy, Mr. FBI. And what was all that . . . angry stuff?”

“Hey, a little stimulating disagreement over matters of principle keeps people on their toes. Isn’t that what you told me?” She didn’t answer. “Do you still want to live with me?”

“I can’t live without you.”

“I’m sure you could.”

“I don’t want to.”

“But I’m a dirty rotten creep.”

“Only when it comes to money. And if we let money come between us, we’re just fools.”

“I agree with that.”

“I still don’t feel like I can accept this, Jackson.”

“If something happens to me before I get a chance to change my will, I’ll know that I did something to help make certain you’re taken care of.” What little was left of her anger melted into fear at the mere mention of such a thing, but he treated it so nonchalantly that she couldn’t comment. “No strings attached, Chas. Consider it a donation to preserving the historical value of the Victorian era. Whether I marry you or not, Chas, I want to help take care of you. I’m not going to miss the money. I don’t have much to spend it on, so it’s just sitting there. I’ve had a good income, and I made some good investments. It felt good to do something worthwhile with it. Granny would be pleased.”

“How do you know?”

“She told me.”

“You’ve been talking to Granny?”

“I haven’t been hearing any voices, if that’s what you mean. But I sure couldn’t shake the feeling that I was supposed to pay off your mortgage. It was like if I didn’t do it, I would never be able to sleep peacefully again. Isn’t that what you Mormons call inspiration?”

“Something like that,” she said. “I don’t know how to argue with that.”

“You can’t.”

“If you paid off my mortgage, you should be my partner, or something; you should be getting a share of the profits.”

“All I want is room and board at the inn whenever I might be able to come, and however long I might stay.”

“There will always be room at the inn for you, Jackson. Always. And it has nothing to do with money.”

“Good. Now I can cross one big concern off my list.”

“What
concern?”

“I don’t ever have to wonder if
you
wonder if my marrying you was just an easy way to a comfortable retirement because you live in a really great house.”

“Oh, if you marry me, I intend to put you to work.”

“And what exactly would you have me do when everything runs so smoothly without my lifting a finger?”

“I’ll fire the snow guy,” she said, and he laughed. “And the gardener,” she added. “You haven’t been here in the summer. It takes a lot of work to keep the lawns and flowers looking good.”

“I know absolutely nothing about such things, but I’d be willing to learn.”

“It would be like training to go undercover . . . as a gardener. If you don’t figure out how to do it yourself,
you
can pay the gardener—and the snow guy.”

“It’s a deal.”

“Is this a proposal?”

“It’s hypothetical planning.”

“Fair enough,” she said. Then silence. “Jackson?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Thanks for the room and board.”

“You’re welcome,” she said and hoped that it wouldn’t be too long before he took advantage of room and board again.

CHAPTER 15

It took Chas a few days to get comfortable with what Jackson had done. She made it a matter of serious prayer and pondering for a number of reasons. Uppermost in her mind was the question as to whether this was a sign of some undesirable character trait in Jackson that she should be wary of. While his efforts had every appearance of being genuine and motivated by love, she wasn’t naive enough to believe that a man couldn’t use such appearances to be controlling. He’d said there were no strings attached, but his definition of strings might be different from hers. She couldn’t possibly know with her limited perspective whether or not this man might one day use the fact that he’d paid off the mortgage on the inn to manipulate her into decisions about it that she might not agree with. But God knew. He knew Jackson’s heart and his motives, and by trusting in God and listening to the still, small whisperings of His Spirit, she could know for certain whether accepting this tremendous gift was a good thing. She reminded herself that just because it was right didn’t mean that it might not still become an issue in the future. But with the confidence of knowing she’d done the right thing, she could take on the challenges with equal confidence.

Chas also felt the need to ask her Heavenly Father if her difficult feelings over accepting the money were simply related to pride. She’d accused Jackson of such pride and he’d not denied it. Apparently he was proud of being proud. But she suspected that his interpretation of the word had more to do with being strong and responsible and serving his country. He’d been a Marine, for heaven’s sake.
The few. The proud.
He would have no understanding of the meaning of pride as it was discussed among those who shared her religion. And in that context, she couldn’t deny that she had much evidence of his humility and sincerity. He had a sharp edge of arrogance that she suspected had also come from his profession, as did his stubborn refusal to be bullied or intimidated. But even given that, he’d never tried to elevate himself above her—or anyone else, for that matter. He wasn’t perfect, but neither was she. And it was the beam in her own eye she was searching for now.

Chas continued to pray, and even fasted, knowing this was no small matter. She’d learned not to expect answers to be big and overwhelming. She’d learned to recognize feelings of peace versus the lack of it. And she listened carefully for those feelings. She was entirely unprepared for the sudden and overwhelming feeling that she had to get a priesthood blessing. She phoned one of her home teachers, and they both came over that evening. They went into the private dining room where they visited for a few minutes, then one of them offered a prayer. She didn’t tell them anything specific to the problem; only that she needed some guidance and had felt prompted to ask for the blessing.

Chas had been given many blessings during her years as a member of the Church, for a number of reasons. But this one left her barely able to breathe as she was told that her Heavenly Father loved her and was pleased with her example and charity to those who came into her home. She was told that she should always remain humble and be gracious in accepting the help of others in times of need, and that her reliance on others could bless the lives of those willing to give, even more than her own. She couldn’t hold back tears as she heard that she needed to trust in the Lord as He carefully molded precious lives to achieve their greatest potential. She was also told that His ways might not make sense to mortals, but by living close to the Spirit and keeping the commandments, she would be an instrument in His hands to bring souls to Christ through her charitable nature and humility. Her tears increased as she was reminded that the Lord was mindful of the grief she’d suffered from the losses in her life, but she was assured that her loved ones on the other side of the veil were progressing in the gospel and watching out for her. There was no vagueness about being informed that difficulties lay ahead in her life, but that through her righteousness she would be sustained and comforted.

That night Chas lay awake long after she’d crawled into bed, pondering the wonder of such personal communication from God, and what it meant to her at this time. She knew that she shouldn’t try to speculate over what difficulties might lie ahead, or who she might help bring to Christ. But there was no doubting in her heart or mind that angels existed in her life, and that she knew the course she needed to take, a course on which she was already firmly embarked. And she had found peace—perfect, undeniable peace.

When sleep continued to elude her, Chas got up and wrote a long, handwritten letter to Jackson to share her feelings regarding this evening’s experience, keeping in mind his minimal knowledge of gospel principles. She was purposely vague on some things, but made it clear that she believed he had been inspired to help her; she also told him that money had been tighter than she had been willing to admit. She thanked him for being a great blessing in her life, and apologized for anything unkind she might have said, and also for her pride over the money. She closed the letter by telling him how much she loved him, and how grateful she was to have him in her life. She didn’t wonder any more then than she ever had if she should be reticent about her feelings. She and Jackson weren’t the kind of people to play games, and he needed to know that she hoped and prayed every day that this story would have a happy ending for them, and that they could be together forever. She felt sure he wouldn’t catch the same implication of
forever
that she’d intended, but maybe someday he would understand.

The next time they talked, Chas told him she’d sent a letter, and asked him to please let her know when he got it. Then they talked about other things. He called her a couple of days later to tell her that he’d just read the letter. He thanked her, said it was remarkable, and then he asked her a couple of questions. They talked of other things, and the money issue didn’t come up again. Chas felt grateful as the financial freedom began to settle in over the coming weeks. She was able to take care of some repairs that were overdue, and to start putting some money away for future needs.

All in all, she felt that she was adjusting fairly well to Granny’s absence and her long-distance relationship with Jackson. She missed them both, but she was coping. Polly and Charlotte helped fill in the gaps, and as always, she loved running the inn. It was a good life. She just hoped and prayed that Jackson might not settle too comfortably back into his life elsewhere, and that one day he might choose to share this life with her.

Chas reached a day when she not only felt ready to go through all of Granny’s things, she felt eager. Prior to that, she had kept the room exactly as it had been, often going there for solace. But suddenly the room felt as if it had become some kind of unhealthy shrine that needed purging. Perhaps Granny was nudging her along from the other side. During a few days at the beginning of a week when no guests were scheduled at the inn, Chas started emptying the drawers and the closet. She stripped the sheets from the bed where her grandmother had died, and with Polly’s help she rearranged the furniture. Most of Granny’s things were given to charity, while Chas just turned a blind eye to her lingering sentimentality and reminded herself that, after all, they were just
things.
She carefully put any belongings of Granny’s that had
true
sentimental value away in the cedar chest where Granny had kept things that were precious to
her.

With that much accomplished, Chas started cleaning out her own room and moved her things into Granny’s old room, taking it over completely. With Chas’s old room cleaned out and cleaned up, Polly moved her things there, and the room she’d been staying in was once again made ready for guests. Chas was grateful for Polly’s friendship as well as her companionship, and wondered what she would ever do without her. They joked about running the inn together as a couple of old spinsters. Chas laughed over the idea while inside it broke her heart. She far preferred to imagine herself growing old in this house with Jackson by her side, raising a family. But whatever happened, Polly would always have a place with her.

Throughout the course of the project, Chas spoke with Jackson on the phone several times. He helped talk her through the process, and they shared many tender memories. She felt so grateful that he had known Granny, as opposed to just being told about her. In fact, she marveled at how well he had known her. He knew all of her little idiosyncrasies and eccentricities, and he had been a recipient of her generous heart. Their bond was deepened by the mutual love they shared for this great woman who would remain alive through their mutual memories.

With her project completed, Chas felt more comfortable in the house than she had since Granny’s death. When many weekend guests arrived, she became caught up in her work and felt grateful for all she’d been blessed with. She was thrilled to get a funny card in the mail from Jackson, and not many days later, she got a sentimental one. In turn she started looking for cards to send him, and it quickly became a little game back and forth. She looked forward to receiving his cards as much as she enjoyed sending them to him. And occasionally she sent a little care package with something silly in it, and always some of Charlotte’s baked goods.

Jackson laughed out loud to see a card from Chas appear in his stack of mail. The regular appearance of cards and packages was one of the highlights in his life, second only to their daily phone calls. He immediately broke the seal on the envelope as he moved to a chair to sit and read. On the front of the card was a photograph of the inn that had been artistically altered to give it an ethereal effect. And printed with it were the words,
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times . . .

“Wow,” he said aloud and opened the card. He could never beat that. Inside there was nothing printed, but Chas’s handwriting filled the entire thing, and he eagerly began to read.
My dearest love, I came across this card in a drawer and thought of you. It was one of those things I’d had made at one time as a marketing tool, but now it seemed perfect to send, if only to remind you of your other home, and hopefully to manipulate you into missing me and the inn as much as we miss you. While I was thinking about the words printed on this card, and the meaning they must have surely had for our friend Mr. Dickens, I thought of the time you spent here. For both of us it was surely the best of times and the worst of times. I am astounded to think of the life-altering challenges we both faced during that time, and the grief we had to deal with, each in our own way, but at the same time, there are so many wonderful moments and so much joy mingled into those memories. You changed my life and opened my heart. You gave me strength when I needed it, and you blessed my life by allowing me to help you through some of the worst of times for you. Whatever the future may bring for us, we must always remember that we have shared the best and the worst of times, but as time passes and life moves on, I hope that we can remember more fully the best of times, the times that are close to my heart as I know they are close to yours. May God be with you, and bless and protect you every hour of every day, and may we yet share more and more of the best of times. All my love and then some, Chas.

Jackson had to blink back tears as he read, then he read it all the way through a second time. He sat for a long time with the card in his hand, pondering the state of his life. Every day he felt torn between letting go of this life to take hold of a new one, and seeing to what felt like unfinished business in Virginia. He had trouble defining what exactly felt unfinished. The only thing that really bugged him was the elusiveness of the drug dealers responsible for Dave’s death, and for other deaths as well. But they were at dead ends in every direction, and there was nothing to be done that other agents couldn’t do. Still, he felt hesitant to leave, and he didn’t know why. He concluded that he just needed more time.

Chas was thrilled when Jackson called to thank her for the card, saying that it was the best card he’d ever received in his life. He told her that he’d set it on the nightstand next to a framed picture of the two of them in front of the Christmas tree. Then they talked until it was time to go to sleep. With the difference in time zones, it was a good thing that Jackson was accustomed to going to bed later than Chas.

Every once in a while Jackson suggested that she fly to Norfolk for a weekend. He even offered to pay all of her expenses, but she assured him she could afford it. He told her there was a fairly nice hotel not far from his apartment, and he would take very good care of her. After it had come up a number of times and she’d managed to mostly avoid the subject, he finally asked, “What is it, Chas? Tell me why you won’t come.”

“I was wondering when you’d see through me.”

“It’s not easy to see through you when I can’t even see you. Tell me why. If there’s a reason that makes sense, then tell me, and I’ll drop it. Do you not want to see me or—”

“Oh, it’s not that! I
do
want to see you.”

“Are you worried about leaving the inn?”

“Yes and no. It feels strange to think of leaving it, but I know Polly and Jen could manage. And of course Charlotte would help.”

“Then what?”

“It scares me a little. Does that shock you?”

“No. I’ve wondered.”

“I’ve never been to a city that big.”

“It’s not
that
big, compared to some.”

“Bigger than I’ve ever been to.”

“It would be good for you to leave your little world for a few days. I will pick you up at the airport, and will take very good care of you.”

“I have no doubt of that.”

“Then come. I miss you. And I can’t get away long enough to make my coming there worth it right now. I think it’s your turn to come to my house.”

“Is this a role reversal test?”

“Maybe,” he chuckled. “Do I need to call Polly and Charlotte? Do your friends even know this has come up?”