Whistlin' Dixie in a Nor'easter (40 page)

Roberta put on like she was happy for me but I could tell she was struggling. Her perpetual smile was gone and the lilt in her voice had disappeared.

We truly had become buddies. In fact, she was my closest friend in the whole state. If anyone had told me last Christmas Eve, when Roberta Abbott
bragged about her Sorels she fought for in a “tag” sale, that she would become my best girlfriend in Vermont I would have said, I
doubt
it. But now I found myself despondent over losing such a faithful friend.

“Will you visit me?” I asked her as we packed up the parlor.

“I’m not so sure about that,” she said, with a bit of melancholy in her voice. “I’ve never been past New Hampshire. Moe went over to New York once’t, to the racetrack at Saratoga. He’s been promisin’ to take me but he’s been promisin’ that for six years now. Tennessee’s a long way away.”

“I know, but you might enjoy it. I could take you to Graceland.”

“Now you’re talking.” Joy temporarily returned to her face.

Jeb overheard me and jumped right in. “I’m coming for a visit. I’ll be checking out Graceland, the Grand Ole Opry, and Dollywood, too.”

“Now you’ve got me taking you all over the state.”

“Might like it so much, I might decide to stay. You never know. Don’t you flatlanders have Mary Kay or Avon down in Tennessee?”

“I think so.”

“Your mother would never go for that, I can tell you that
reet
now, Jeb Duggar.” Roberta and Jeb’s mama were friends. Roberta thought that gave her license to boss Jeb around.

“I’m not saying I’ll move for sure,
Roberta
, I’m just keeping my options open.”

I quickly diverted the conversation. “All y’all are welcome anytime in Tennessee. I’d be happy to have you.” Jeb went back to his chores and whistled “Hound Dog” while he replenished the firewood.

“I’m gonna miss you, Roberta.” I felt a lump knotting in my throat.

“Well, missy, I think I’m the one who’s goin’ to miss you.” She finished folding one of the drapery panels, which Jeb had taken down from the window, and glanced over at me. “It won’t be the same around here without you. Now that Helga’s gone, I actually look forward to coming to work. You’ve made everything nicer.”

I watched her place the panel neatly in the box in front of her and grab up another. “At first, I wasn’t so sure about you and how you would fit in up here. When you started making all the changes I got nervous but now I can see it’s done a world of good. I’ve learned a lot from you.”

I had been wrapping my china in newspaper, and I stopped abruptly. Her words took me by surprise. “I am so touched by that, thank you. But I can’t help wondering what in the world you’ve learned from
me
?”

Her good eye gazed at me as if she was genuinely shocked that I had asked her that question. “How to be a survivor. I watched you hold yourself up, even when your husband walked out and left you for another woman. You kept it together for your little daughters’ sakes. You could have run back to Memphis then, but you didn’t. You kept on goin’. Then when Helga done you wrong, you still didn’t give up. You fired her instead and I don’t know anyone who could have done that. You had the guts to change up this place and give it a new look and a new name and a new menu, too.”

“Actually, the menu was all Peter.”

“It don’t matter who did it, it was done under your leadership. You know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think that after watching you, I could do it, too. If anything ever happened to Moe, I’m sure I could make it on my own.”

“That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, Roberta.” I reached out to hug her and when I wrapped my arms around her little, roly-poly back, I felt so much love for her. I truly would miss her so much. “Daddy always told me I could do anything I put my mind to, but until now I never believed it.”

“Well, believe it. I wish I could’ve met your dad. You’ve talked about him so much I feel like I know the man.”

“He may not have liked the cold weather, but he sure would have been proud of the Peach Blossom Inn.”

“It’s you he would have been proud of.”

Baker will want to say good-bye to the girls
. I’d been dreading making the phone call, and by Friday afternoon I could no longer silence the small voice in my head. What I really wanted to do was skip out of town. Just escape and leave the way he had—with no warning.
Maybe I’ll just write him a note and tell him we’ve gone home. He did it to me
. Didn’t he deserve
to have a dose of his own selfishness? Maybe he did, but my girls did not deserve any of this and it wouldn’t be fair to deprive them of one last visit. There was no telling how long it would be until they saw him again.

I dialed directory assistance to get the number of Powder Mountain. The switchboard operator put me through to his office and the lengthy wait seemed downright rude.

“Baker Satterfield,” he answered at last.

“Hi. It’s Leelee.”

“
Oh.
Hey.” Boy, did I take him by surprise.

“Were you busy?”

“No, I mean—Well, yeah, I’m always busy. Things are crazy around here. We’re having a banner seas—”

“The girls and I are leaving. We’re going home.”

“When?”

“Tuesday at sunrise.”

“And you’re just now letting me know?”

“Please don’t go there. Unless you want to discuss
your
definition of advance notice.”

Silence.

“Would you like to see them?”

“Of course I want to see them. Are you kidding? Let me think a minute, here.” I listened while he cleared his throat. “Tonight’s out. I’ve got a dinner. Sunday
day
is Huega Ski Club—”

My blood boiled. “You are
un
believable, Baker.”

“Wait a second. You’re the one that’s just now springing this on me. How long have you known about it?”

Forcing myself to tame the sword in my mouth, I softened my tone. “Only a couple of days. Can you work it out?”

“Yes, I’ll pick them up Monday right after work.”

“I’ll have them ready.” I paused a moment, thinking about what else I wanted to say. I hate confrontational conversations, even with him. “When I get to Memphis, I’ll . . . figure everything out. About the divorce and all.”

“Sure. Whatever works for you.”

“Okay. Well. I’ll talk to you sometime. Bye.”

I hung up the phone and screamed out loud, “
I hate you
.” I climbed up on my unmade bed and buried myself under the covers.
You are so selfish. How could I have ever been so blind?

Sunday was my very last night in the restaurant. We were slow, only serving fourteen dinners. Peter and Pierre, now steadfast buddies, were attempting to have a lucid conversation about wine at the end of the night. Peter was listening to Bob Dylan on the boom box and drinking a glass of Sonoma-Cutrer chardonnay from a bottle that a customer had left half full. Pierre had brought it into the kitchen and immediately offered it to Peter.

When Peter saw me with a tray full of coffee for the customers at the last table, he lifted his glass to make a toast before I left the kitchen. “Here’s to Leelee, owner and now deserter of the Peach Blossom Inn. Best wishes.” Then he let out this contrived laugh, like we were supposed to think what he said was funny. When no one else but Pierre giggled at all, he said, “It’s a
joke
. Can’t anybody take a joke around here?” And he threw his sauté pan into the sink. It banged loudly when it hit the chrome bottom.

I didn’t comment. Neither did anyone else. Roberta looked straight at me and I motioned for her to follow me out the kitchen door.

“Is he drunk?” I whispered, when we got to the waiting room just outside the kitchen.

“
Ohhh,
yes. He had a glass of wine next to him all night. Pierre kept it filled to the top. Never seen him do
that
in all these months I’ve worked with him.”

“That was mean, what he said back there. He is not the person I thought he was.” That kind and gentle man, whom I thought I knew so well, had just slit my trusting heart wide open and filled it up with doubt. Doubt about his character, our friendship, and what’s worse—doubt about my decision.

“He don’t mean it, it’s his
de
fense talking. He’s just sad to see you go, that’s all.”

“Well, he sure has a strange way of showing it. He’s barely spoken to me all week.”

“Remember what I told you? About the way he lights up when you come into the room?”

I nodded.

“I watched him looking at you tonight when you didn’t know. He’s hurting on the inside. That’s why he’s acting that way. He’s goin’ to miss you.”

“Now you sound like Alice. She says the same thing only she’s just speculating. She’s only been around him once.”

“Aren’t
you
goin’ to miss
him
?”

“Well, sure I’m gonna miss him. Just like I’m gonna miss you, Jeb, and Pierre.”

“The heart speaks louder than words, Leelee. Listen to yours.”

After the last four people left the restaurant, I slipped into my apartment to check on the girls and fix my hair. I brightened my lips and even added a little perfume to my wrists.

When I made it back into the kitchen, it was pitch-dark—not a soul in sight. When I heard the cellar door creak open in the dining room, it gave me hope that a certain someone was still around. My heart started to race and I hesitated a second before moving in that direction. Mustering all my courage, I slowly walked out of the kitchen and into the dining room, only to find Jeb pouring a glass of water over the remaining embers in the fireplace.

“Is everyone gone?” I asked, looking around.

“Yuup.”

“Didn’t everyone leave sort of soon? I mean, it’s only ten thirty. Usually, the kitchen doesn’t go dark until after twelve.”

“It was a slow night, and tomorrow’s a day off.”

“I wanted to tell everyone good-bye. You’ll be here tomorrow, won’t you?”

“Sure. I’ll be here at some point. Things don’t get cracking around JCW until midday. Might try to sleep in for a change.”

“My moving van arrives around eight tomorrow morning but I’m not leaving until Tuesday. I’m hoping to get an early start.”

“I’ll be over tomorrow.”

“In that case, I’ll see you then. Have a good night’s sleep, okay?”

“I will. Sleeping’s never been a problem for me. I sleep like a log. Mom tells me she can hear me snoring down the hall. Funny thing is, I can hear her snoring down the hall.”

“Well, you better beat her to bed tonight if you wanna get some rest. ’Night, Jeb,” I said, and headed back to my superb owners’ quarters. When I shut the door behind me my heart stung. Peter Owen blew out of the Peach Blossom Inn without even waving good-bye.

The movers pulled up to the inn at exactly 8:00
A.M.
Aside from directing, there was very little for me to do, as it had all been done in the days before. Almost fourteen months to the day had passed since the last time I hired movers. Everything we brought from Tennessee was going back and every single thing we acquired from the Schloygins was remaining.

Roberta arrived in the middle of the chaos all concerned about the news she heard on the scanner. “Leelee, I don’t mean to scare you, but a nor’easter’s comin’. It’s predicted to blow in here by late tomorrow morning. Make sure you get out of town early. If you stay ahead of it, you should be alreet.”

Around noon, Ed stopped by. He almost had me fooled into thinking he was offering to help, but within seconds of his arrival the real reason he was there surfaced.

I offered him a Coke and invited him to join me at the table in front of the bay window.

“So, everything seems to be going well.” Glancing around the room, he pulled out his chair and laid a manila envelope on the table.

“Not that much to it, really. All the packing is done. I told you I kept all my boxes, right?”

“Yuup. Bet you’re happy about that. Hey, Leelee, the reason I’m here is we won’t be able to close this afternoon. I’ve had to postpone it a few days but your leaving is not a problem. That’s what FedEx is for.”

“What happened?”

“A death in the family.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Well, I completely understand that. Please send my condolences.”

“Right. I certainly will.” He offered no other explanation.

“So . . . I can just leave?”

“Yuup.” He picked up the envelope and slid out the papers that were inside. “To expedite, why don’t you go ahead and sign the closing papers. I’ll FedEx the fully executed documents to you in Memphis.” He passed me the papers along with a pen.

He could sense my confusion by the bewildered look on my face.

“Your ten-thousand-dollar earnest money check is in escrow and I’ll wire your Tennessee account with the balance, or send a cashier’s check—whichever you prefer. I’ve done it many times before. With all the second-home owners here, it happens all the time.”

“Well, if you think it’s okay?”

“Of course it’s okay, I’ll take them to get Baker’s signature this afternoon.”

“Oh my gosh, I hadn’t even thought about that.”

“He’s got to sign, too. I’ve taken the liberty of calling him and he’s got no problem with it at all.”

I closed my eyes and sighed. “What did
he
have to say?”

“Not much, strictly business. He’ll sign a quitclaim deed, too, no problem.”

“Well, he’s said good-bye to the girls, he’s signing the papers, and I guess that’s that. Strictly business.” I changed the subject. “What about the restaurant? We have reservations for next week. I only planned for this one week of downtime. That’s what they asked for, remember? It’s just that I don’t want Jeb, Roberta, and Pierre to be without a job.”

“I knew you’d be worried about that so I made sure to ask the new owners. They’ll be up and running within the week.”

“Oh, good. That’s my main concern. I figure it’ll take me three days to get home so you can send the money on Friday.”