The Precipice (3 page)

Elizabeth burst through the front doors into the lobby. Oriental rugs fashioned in warm, rich colors greeted guests of the Pennington Point Inn. Situated halfway between the front door and the front desk was a substantial round wooden table with a magnificent fresh floral arrangement displaying the waning colors of summer. This was Amelia’s signature. She felt strongly that guests and visitors should be greeted with this display of simple opulence. Elsewhere in the inn, fresh flowers were also presented, but in a much more understated, yet still elegant, manner. All of the flowers used in the inn during the warmer months came from Amelia’s garden that was her pride and joy. She looked forward to tending the garden and it gave her an excuse to step away from the stressful day-to-day operations of the inn, providing a form of therapy for her. In the off seasons, she used flowers she had meticulously dried to create similar artful arrangements.

A travel weary couple was checking in at the front desk so Elizabeth slowed her pace and remained behind the urn of flowers to allow time for them to finish. She was thrilled to see that they were speaking with Rashelle. She must have known she was arriving and gave the night manager the night off. Rashelle was an energetic young woman of Elizabeth’s age. She had dark brown, almost black hair that she sported in a retro-shag look. It suited her spunky personality perfectly. She was of average height and build, but her outstanding characteristic was her high energy level that could not be squelched.

The lobby was centered between a sitting room to the right and the dining room and lounge to the left. Glowing coals in the sitting room fireplace and the lingering smell of smoke in the air were all that remained of an earlier fire, an unexpected yet welcome treat to ward off the chill of a cool summer evening by the sea. Old built-in wooden bookshelves on either side of the fireplace were filled with well-worn hardcover novels, just beckoning anyone entering the room to pluck one off the shelf and sink down into one of the oversized chairs arranged in conversation circles around the room.

The dining room was located toward the back of the building on the left side. It was closed for the evening and quite dark at the moment, but was set up for the hustle and bustle of the morning brunch. Weekend brunches at the inn had become popular, not only for Pennington guests, but for guests of other hotels and locals as well. A long standing favorite was Amelia’s famous orange-macadamia nut French toast served with warm maple syrup.

The lounge, located next to the dining room toward the front of the inn, was alive with a spirited card game going on between a foursome of older gentlemen. An imposing wooden bar, with dark leather stools pushed up to it, anchored the far end of the room. A large mirror occupied the wall behind it. A half a dozen square tables were spaced evenly throughout the bar with four chairs set neatly at each. The card game was occupying the table closest to the bar on the left side of the lounge.

Elizabeth glanced into the sitting room and noticed an elderly lady sitting in one of the wing chairs, her back to the front of the inn and the sea, her left profile visible from the lobby. She seemed to be the only occupant of the room and looked eerily familiar. Her head was bowed as if reading a book on her lap.

Rashelle finished with the couple checking in and looked up to see Elizabeth. Her eyes opened wide; she clasped her hands together and squealed in delight. Turned to her right, she disappeared through a door to the left of the front desk and reappeared through a door to the lobby marked “Staff Only.” She flung her arms around Elizabeth and they embraced. It felt so good to see her again. Emails and texts didn’t quite have the same warmth as her hugs. Elizabeth detected the scent of alcohol. Some things never change. Rashelle was quite the party girl in college, always looking for a good time, even if it wasn’t the weekend. There were many times that Elizabeth had to drag Rashelle back to her dormitory at two or three o’clock in the morning with Rashelle protesting that it was too early to go home. Once she had to rescue her out of the bed of some guy Rashelle didn’t even know. The next day Rashelle did not confront her for embarrassing her so Elizabeth figured she had no memory of the incident. Elizabeth had a hard time understanding that kind of behavior but she assumed it was a result of the alcohol. Somehow she passed her classes and graduated with a degree. Toward the end of their four years together, Rashelle seemed to be inebriated more than she was sober. Elizabeth wrote that off as senioritis. She had hoped Rashelle would be a little more responsible with her drinking as an adult, especially on the job. Apparently not.

“You made it! So glad you’re here. Your grandmother will be pleased. How long are you staying?” She didn’t give her a chance to respond. “We’ll twist your arm to stay longer, no matter how long it is. Oh, I am so glad you are here!” Rashelle couldn’t hide her excitement. Her Brooklyn accent came through loud and clear. “Let’s find Amelia. She will want to know right away that you have arrived.” She grabbed Elizabeth by the arm and started leading her toward the carpeted stairway, which was to the left of the guest reception desk and led to the second floor, where the family and staff kept rooms. Rashelle stopped mid-step, rethinking her direction. “I think she may still be talking with Tony. She wanted to be sure that everything was all set for brunch in the morning.” Anthony had been the chef at the inn for fifteen years, but Amelia still kept her hand in running the kitchen from time to time. Tony, as everyone at the inn referred to him, was a rather short man in his forties, with short brown wavy hair, a slight build, a French Canadian accent and a fiery temper to match. His cooking had been reviewed by some of the most prestigious gastronomic magazines. Having Tony at the helm of the kitchen was a real feather in the inn’s cap.

The girlfriends’ arms were linked together as they headed toward the dark dining room. On their way, they by-passed a short hallway to the right that led to the back porch. One flick of Rashelle’s right hand, as they crossed the threshold into the room, produced a path of light to the kitchen.

Elizabeth suddenly remembered the woman sitting in the wing chair near the fireplace and she paused to wonder why her friend was leaving the front desk unattended. A glance over her shoulder told her the woman was no longer there. A puzzled look crossed her face. She didn’t remember seeing the woman leave and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she should know who she was.

Their footsteps were quite pronounced on the old wooden, planked floor that was the original flooring for the school’s dining room. It creaked loudly. A wall of windows along the right side of the room offered a beautiful northeastern view in daylight. There was a wooden bar stretched out along the wall in front of them, to the left of the swinging door into the kitchen, which was a smaller version of the bar in the lounge. Empty bar stools lined the counter in silence. Voices emanating from the kitchen assured Elizabeth and Rashelle that they had found Amelia and Tony. The girls burst through the spring-hinged, double doors into the kitchen, and caught Tony mid-sentence. Warm smiles spread across their faces; they were glad to see Elizabeth.

“Hey, Nana!” There was Amelia, standing in the middle of the kitchen, with a crisp white chef’s apron folded in half and tied at her waist. Wire-rimmed half glasses were down at the end of her nose. Her white, wavy hair was neatly styled to frame her face and accentuated her bright blue eyes. Smile lines punctuated the sides of her mouth. At times, Amelia had a way of looking like Mrs. Claus without the extra weight. She certainly had the warm personality to fill the shoes of such an icon.

“Elizabeth! It’s wonderful to see you.” They both reached out spontaneously to each other and hugged until the silence became awkward for the non-participants. It had been several months since she had made the trip up from the big city. Work seemed to get in the way of long weekends or any vacations plans, for that matter. A twinge of guilt pinched her in the gut, but the warmth of Nana’s arms washed away the tentative, negative feelings. She wondered if this is what it would have felt like in her mother’s arms. Elizabeth was only four or five when her parents died.

Elizabeth breathed in deeply as she hugged her grandmother. The familiar scent of Obsession, mixed with whatever hair spray had been on sale when she ran to the store, permeated her nostrils. She smiled. She loved that smell. It was great to be back in her grandmother’s arms. Finally she pulled away and turned toward the head chef.

“Hi, Tony. How’s it going?”

“Great to see you, Elizabeth.” He smiled like a proud father gazing upon his own daughter.

The squeak of the swinging kitchen door announced a new face that Elizabeth had not seen around the inn before. His all white attire and the selection of racquets slung over his shoulder revealed that he was the new tennis instructor. Nice looking guy in his thirties with dirty blond hair pushed to one side. A Denis Leary type, who looked more like an NYPD detective than a tennis pro. His eyes surveyed the small kitchen; cramped quarters with two large commercial stoves and large, weathered, aluminum pots and pans hanging from the ceiling on a rectangular rack. His eyes came to rest on Elizabeth.

“You must be Elizabeth. I’ve heard so much about you.” He extended his right arm and shook her hand, clasping her forearm in his left hand. He looked deeply into her eyes. It was her turn to feel uncomfortable. She pulled away and stepped backwards from him.

Rashelle jumped in to smooth things over. “Oh, this is Kurt Mitchell, our new tennis instructor.” Pleasantries and nods were exchanged. Rashelle quickly moved on. “Hey, Liz, let’s grab a glass of Pinot, shall we?” dismissing Kurt with her shoulder.

Elizabeth thought a glass of wine sounded divine after that long drive. Then she realized they would have to venture down to the wine cellar and she shuddered at the thought. It was located below the kitchen in what used to be part of the tunnel system for the school. Maine winters can be bitterly cold and stormy, particularly so close to the ocean, so a system of rudimentary tunnels was constructed so that the girls could move from building to building without enduring the elements. Most of the tunnels had been sealed off once the school was converted to an inn. The wine cellar was one exception. Elizabeth was relieved to see Rashelle making her way to the small wine cooler that Anthony kept filled with a nice selection of whites. After pulling out a couple of bottles and examining the labels, she selected a magnum of Pinot Grigio, Elizabeth’s favorite. Then she crossed the creaky wood floor to the utility closet and pulled out a wine bucket, which she filled with ice from the ice bin next to the closet. A cork screw was lying on the counter so Rashelle placed the bucket on the counter and skillfully uncorked the bottle. She then nestled the opened bottle into the ice bucket and headed back across the kitchen grabbing Elizabeth by the arm. Glancing at Amelia and Tony, she asked, “Anyone care to join us?”

Both declined the offer, citing the late hour and the early hour they would be up in the morning for brunch. Kurt smiled and just shook his head. Amelia added, “I’ll catch up with you in the morning, Elizabeth. Oh, and you can sleep in the front room this weekend, or however long you are staying.”

Elizabeth stopped in her tracks and turned back, giving her grandmother a puzzled, almost startled look. “The front room? Isn’t that…Cecelia’s room?”

“Well, yes,” she chuckled. “I don’t think she’ll mind. I know how much you like an ocean view.”

Elizabeth couldn’t shake the feeling that she would be stirring up a hornets’ nest by sleeping there. She really didn’t want to displace anyone, particularly her ornery, miserable great aunt. Elizabeth took a deep breath and tried to stand straighter. She was an adult now and should be able to handle her great aunt.

Bidding everyone a good evening, the two linked arms and headed back through the swinging doors and into the dining room. Rashelle’s arm unlocked from Elizabeth’s long enough to slip behind the bar and grab a couple of wine glasses from the overhead rack. They clinked together as she pulled them down. She rejoined Elizabeth at the end of the bar and they linked arms together again and headed across the room. Before they reached the lobby, Amelia poked her head out of the kitchen.

“You girls are going to stay inside tonight, aren’t you? Probably not a good night for a walk anyway.”

“Don’t worry, Amelia. We’re going to find a couple of cozy chairs in front of the fireplace,” Rashelle reassured her. Elizabeth had a puzzled look on her face again and wondered what she was missing, but was too tired to care enough to ask.

“Feel free to put another log on, if you’re going to be up for a while.”

“Okay. Thanks, Amelia. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Nana.”

“Goodnight.”

They crossed the lobby and entered the sitting room. Elizabeth surveyed the room and made a mental note to speak to her grandmother about a redecorating project. It was a warm and cozy room, very comfortable for the guests to relax in. But they needed to be careful that the shabby chic décor didn’t evolve into a worn and dated look over time.

Then Elizabeth remembered the lady who had been sitting in the wing chair by the window. “So, you are officially off-duty or am I taking you away from something you should be doing?”

“Oh, heavens. I’m done for today. We’re not expecting any more arrivals and all the current guests seemed to have turned in early.”

Elizabeth glanced back toward the lounge and noticed that the gentlemen had finished their card game. The room was dark and quiet. “What about the elderly woman who was sitting there when I first arrived?” She gestured to the right.

Rashelle furrowed her brow. “I don’t remember anyone in the sitting room. I thought everyone had cleared out by then.”

Elizabeth let it go and sank down into an overstuffed upholstered arm chair close to the fireplace and facing a matching chair. Rashelle placed the wine bucket and glasses on the oval wooden coffee table in front of them. She approached the fireplace and retrieved a log from the pile on the left of the hearth and tossed it in. They both watched as the sparks burst out from under the new log into a gentle explosion and settled back down again. Rashelle rejoined Elizabeth who had begun filling the glasses. They sat back, enjoyed each other’s company, catching up on all the small stuff, carefully avoiding anything heavier. It felt so good to both of them to just sit and relax. Finally, Elizabeth couldn’t resist pursuing a less comfortable topic.

“So, how is the new tennis pro working out?”

“Oh, Kurt? Well, okay. I mean, I don’t know how much tennis he is teaching, but he does arrange round robin tournaments and does some clinics for the guests. There haven’t been any complaints so far, which is an improvement. To tell you the truth, there weren’t a lot of candidates to choose from with the paltry salary we were offering. Amelia liked him so I went along with it.” She paused to examine Elizabeth’s face to see if she had taken offense at the salary comment. When it appeared she had not, Rashelle continued. “I think he is bored at times, though, because I do find him poking around, sticking his nose in peculiar places. Says he’s just interested in the history of the inn, claims to enjoy old buildings. He seems very interested in the old tunnel system.”