Authors: Gloria Repp
“I’ve got plenty to keep me busy,” Madeleine said. “And Bria too. She’s good. Her little brother came over, and I put him to work.”
“From what I hear, that family can use the money. Did you find anything interesting upstairs?”
“Decoys. They might be antiques.” Madeleine wanted to ask about Bria’s family, but Aunt Lin was getting up.
“Let’s go see.”
On the way, her aunt stopped to look into the parlor. “What a difference!”
She paused beside the boxes in the hall. “Discards from the library? Good. I’ll phone the Truck Guys.” She eyed the worn green carpet. “I wonder what’s underneath this old thing.”
She tugged on a loose edge and it came up easily, revealing dusty planks of pine. “This goes too. Now show me the decoys.”
Madeleine opened the trunk and lifted out the duck with a black-and-white head. “Jude called this a hooded merganser.”
“Beautiful!” her aunt said. “I don’t know about such things, but it looks valuable.” Her green eyes glowed. “Your first project?”
“I’ll check them out.” Bria and Jude might be willing to help.
Aunt Lin gazed at the stuffed owl. “When I first met Cousin Henrietta, she was already in a nursing home, and rather strange,” she said slowly. “She used to go to auctions just to talk to people, and then she ended up buying whole boxes of stuff.”
On their way downstairs, Madeleine asked about the locked room.
“I noticed that,” her aunt said, “and it made me laugh. Every old house has to have its mysterious locked room, doesn’t it?”
“If you have a key, we could find out,” Madeleine said. “Maybe she stashed boxes of jewels in the closet.”
Aunt Lin smiled. “I never did find a key, so we might have to get a locksmith. It was a family joke, the way Henrietta loved jewelry, but I haven’t seen a single bit.”
“I’ll keep my eyes open,” Madeleine said, and they both laughed.
The phone in the kitchen began ringing. “They must have fixed the lines,” her aunt said. “Hello? Oh, hi!” Her voice took on a lighter note. “Yes, had a good trip.”
After she put the phone down, she said, “That was Kent. He wants to come over tonight with Remi, said you’d suggested an ice-cream party. What a good idea, Madeleine.”
The skunk.
“Not quite accurate,” she said. “Last night he arrived on my doorstep with ice cream and I decided that I needed to go do some research.” She smiled, making it a trivial thing, and immediately wished she hadn’t.
“I’m not surprised—he’s always wanting to party.” Her aunt shrugged. “I’ve learned not to take him too seriously. Kent is useful for local information and he’s a charming date when he exerts himself, but that’s about all. I said they could come for supper, if that’s okay. I know you’ll think of something good.”
She smiled at Madeleine and yawned. “I need a shower and a quick nap. Then I’ll help with the food.”
Kent greeted her with his genial smile and was equally cordial to her aunt. Just as well. She had every intention of putting him in his place. Maybe he’d think twice before dropping in on her again.
She wore the same jeans and blue sweatshirt she’d had on all day, but her aunt had changed into slacks and an attractive green sweater. Remi had dressed for the occasion too. His curly black hair shone, and his open-necked white shirt showed off a chain that glittered against his tan skin.
Kent was pleasant, often humorous, and except for the occasional digression about his book, carried on an interesting conversation with her aunt. As the evening progressed, Madeleine began to wonder whether she’d misjudged him.
Along with the ice cream, he’d brought them a gift—the game of Monopoly. She expected him to be a noisy, aggressive competitor, but he played silently, took wild chances, and looked wounded when he had a setback. Aunt Lin’s careful strategy put her into the lead, and she stayed there. Remi played well too, but he was kind, apologizing as he foreclosed on Madeleine’s houses and giving advice that kept her from going bankrupt.
Finally Kent kicked back his chair and left the table. “I’ve had it,” he said. “Give Madeleine my properties. Looks like she could use them.”
He strolled into the dining room and returned with the Cohansey jar. “The old glass stuff fascinates me,” he said. “I was right about this one. It’s a genuine antique.” He handed it to Remi. “What did they use it for?”
Remi put down a handful of bills from the game. “Canning fruit,” he said. “Produced around 1850. Too bad the covers are missing.” He turned it over. “Hand made. See the pontil mark—that little scar?”
Kent looked gratified. “You’re doing your homework, kid.”
Remi glowed at the careless praise, and something about the expression on his face stung Madeleine. The “kid” must have a case of hero-worship.
Kent started back to the dining room. “You’ve got a treasure trove, Lin, historically speaking. I’d like to make use of it for my book.”
He glanced back at Remi. “Did we bring the camera?”
“Always.” Remi pulled a small digital camera out of his shirt pocket.
“Here,” Kent said. “Take some pictures of me holding this jar. Make sure the name shows clearly.”
Kent beamed as Remi took the photos. “Now that I’m over my cold, I must say that the book is going well.”
Aunt Lin was putting the game away. “How about researching some genuine New Jersey carrot cake to go along with the ice cream you brought?”
“Great idea,” Kent said, and Remi looked appreciative.
While Madeleine cut the cake, Kent began telling her about a place called Batsto. “It’s like a reconstructed village, with a museum,” he said, and described the farm buildings and restored mansion in careful detail.
“We could go see it tomorrow,” Aunt Lin said.
“They’ve got a pretty decent bookstore too,” Remi said.
“I’d like that.” Madeleine took a spoonful of ice cream. “Do they have anything about duck decoys?”
“Probably,” Kent said. “And if you’re interested in cemeteries, there’s an old one just down the road. I’ve found some good leads there for my book.”
Remi grinned.
“Let’s talk of graves, of worms, of epitaphs
. . .”
It took her a minute, but then she had it. “Shakespeare,” she said. “Richard II.” Why hadn’t Remi gone to college?
His eyes sparkled. “Yeah, that old guy sure could write. How come you know him?”
“I taught British Lit for a while.”
Remi leaned forward to say something more, but Kent interrupted. “This is good cake, Madeleine. Homemade?”
“Yes.” Should she tell him that Jude, one of those “nuisance kids” had done most of the work? No; she’d probably end by apologizing or doing something equally mousey.
Finally Kent stood up to make a graceful exit, and Remi echoed his words. “Farewell, ladies. See you tomorrow.”
That night, as she wrote in her journal, Madeleine hesitated over what to say about Kent. She settled on:
Self-centered but probably harmless. Unpredictable. Do I still think he’s an eager puppy? Not sure. He tries to impress.
By morning, wind screeched around the corners of the house and rain pounded on the roof. No Batsto today, and Madeleine didn’t mind. If she had any spare time, she’d rather spend it at Timothy’s store, getting started on her course.
She and Aunt Lin made plans for organizing the china, glassware, and oddments still on the dining room table. They began investigating the rest of the cabinets, and the morning passed quickly.
After lunch Aunt Lin phoned the Truck Guys and came back looking disappointed. “Not until tomorrow. I asked about boxes, and they don’t have any left.”
Madeleine wondered aloud whether Timothy might have boxes, and her aunt said, “He probably does. He’ll let you have them, I’m sure.” She paused in the kitchen doorway, looking preoccupied. “My partner phoned. He’s come up with another great idea, which means I’ve got a lot of work to do before Wednesday.”
She left the kitchen, murmuring to herself, and Madeleine knew she wouldn’t reappear until evening. What next? She’d finish up that cabinet, and go see Timothy. Take the laptop.
The street was lined with cars, but Timothy’s store looked empty. What was the attraction on this rainy day? He answered from a corner when she called his name, and she found him standing on a box beside a stack of canned peaches.
“Where’s the big sale?” she asked. “Or the fire?”
“All those cars? Monday and Tuesday mornings are Free Clinic. Nathan and a couple of other doctors run it together.”
“Free?”
“Almost. A lot of people around here don’t have insurance, so the doctors arranged for them to pay what they can.”
“They won’t break even, will they?”
“Probably not, but it was Nathan’s idea, and he’s convinced the other doctors that it’s important. Did you come to work on your course?”
“I did. Are you hungry yet?”
He smiled, turned back to the canned peaches, lost his balance, and almost fell off the box. Half of the cans tumbled to the floor.
“Careful!” Madeleine picked them up. “You should have a stepladder.”
“I do, but someone borrowed it.”
“I think I know who.”
“I didn’t mind. He said he needed it.”
“I have a feeling he’ll bring it back soon,” she said. “Can I help? What did you want this display to look like?”
The old man lowered himself to the floor. “I thought a pyramid might be effective, maybe with a sign. Something about fresh-picked flavor.”
“Sounds good.” She began arranging the cans. “Do you have any more of these?”
“In the back.”
The doorbell jingled, and a gaunt, red-haired man strolled in. His jeans were stained at the knees, and his jacket looked as if he’d been using it to wipe up an oil spill. One hand was bandaged. Had he just come from the clinic? He hunched over the display case while he waited for Timothy.
The man made a purchase, answered Timothy’s question with a grunt, and ambled back out into the rain.
“Not very talkative, is he?” Madeleine said.
Timothy’s smile was forbearing. “Sid’s a good mechanic when he’s sober.”
“Does he fix cars?”
“He can fix anything on wheels. You have a car problem?”
“I guess I need a new bumper and a paint job, so I’m looking around.”
Timothy was kind enough not to ask how she’d damaged her car. “I can give you Sid’s number,” he said. “Maybe you’ll catch him on a good day.”
While he wrote it down, she asked, “Do you know him very well?”
“Not especially. He comes in to buy spark plugs and always looks at those paperweights.” His face softened. “Always says he’s going to buy one for his little girl someday.”
She took the number, although she wasn’t sure she wanted to hire a man with a drinking problem, and Timothy started for the back of his store, saying, “I’ll get you another case of those peaches.”
While they built a larger display, he talked for a while about the store. Then, after handing her another can, he asked, “How are you doing these days, little lady?”
She placed the can with more precision than necessary. “I began a new life when I came here.” She tried to sound brisk and capable. “So it’s hard to tell. A new situation, new people. I’m sure it will all be fine.”
Fine.
The word seemed to hang like a small dark cloud just above them. He must know that Dad had been shot, and Aunt Lin had probably told him about Brenn’s accident. How could she expect him to believe that everything was fine?
He looked up at her with his searching gaze. “The other night, you were running away from someone.”
“An evasive tactic, you might say. It worked.”
“Good for you.” He bent to get more cans from the box. “Hey-You is taking a nap right now, but he sends greetings. He reported that you make an excellent tuna sandwich.”
They laughed together, and he said, “Tell me what you’ve discovered in your new life.”
She rearranged two of the cans, wondering how to answer. She wasn’t going to admit to anyone, even Timothy, that her new life wasn’t what she’d envisioned. “You wouldn’t believe all the cartons full of stuff in that house,” she finally said. “And one of the rooms is locked.”
She stepped down off the box. “There. How does it look?”
“Just the way I hoped it would.”
She eyed the scribbled little signs on each aisle. “Would you like me to make the sign?”
“Capital! I’ve got a few markers. And I’ve got paper too, or would you rather have poster board?”
He produced everything she suggested for a simple sign, and after she hung it in place, he beamed. “I’d buy some peaches myself if I didn’t have plenty.” He nodded toward the office. “I won’t keep you from your work any longer. Go ahead.”