Olivia was nosing at her as Brenna awoke to a morning of sunshine. Unfortunately, she had her usual nightmare headache, but at least she wasn’t in tears. She lay in bed for a little while as details of the dream came back to her. This was obviously the same person she had dreamt of before. She didn’t really believe these dreams represented her. It seemed to be someone else...a chill came over her as she thought of the rose planted for the baby...by the front door...like the roses draping her own front door. Could these dreams be about someone real... and not just figments of her unconscious mind? No, that was too wild. And yet...the husband’s name was always Martin. Helena’s husband had been named Martin. She sighed. It was time to check out Helena’s past in a little more detail. Brenna had not changed her whole life to end up in a haunted house, if that's what it was. But haunted by who? She always seemed to see things from Helena's point of view and Helena was still alive. She sighed.
Stretching sore muscles, Brenna decided a run on the beach would be in order. She had been cooped up in this house all week and was beginning to understand the term 'housebound'.
On reaching the beach, she stretched a little more and headed for the surf. Squinting her eyes, she recognized a familiar figure as her mailman ambled toward the access road, his arm around a slight woman who was obviously pregnant. Brenna managed to hide a scowl. She did not want to be involved in their happy family scenario. Good God, how anti-social she'd become! When did that happen?
“Hi, Brenna, how’s the move going?” Gary called as they approached.
"Hi. It’s been going well, I'm all moved in. You must be Julie,” she said.
“Honey, this is Brenna Callahan, the lady who bought Helena’s place,” Gary told his wife. She was a tiny woman, no taller than 4’ 11”, Brenna was sure. Her hair was a pale red, curling around her face in the breeze. She had the fair, faintly freckled skin of most redheads and Brenna had the feeling a good amount of sunscreen had been lavished on her face and arms. An automatic assessment formed in Brenna’s mind...small, short stature, a redhead so a potentially greater chance of increased bleeding with delivery (an old wives' tale too often true)...not the kind of patient you were thrilled to see coming. But who knew, maybe she’d do just fine...
“It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard about you around town,” Julie said, shaking her hand.
“Oh? From whom?”
“Oh, just around. In talking to Wendy, Mrs. McNair...you know.”
“Yes, I do,” Brenna laughed.
“We haven’t lived here very long, but Mrs. McNair seems to be a font of information on everyone and their business,” Julie smiled.
“Yes, that was my impression too. So you guys haven’t lived here long either?”
“No, Gary’s a friend of Adam Chambers, they met in Eugene. Adam’s a firefighter here in town.”
“Yes, we’ve met,” Brenna said.
“He’s a nice man, isn’t he? Anyway, at the time, Gary and I were engaged and after we were married, Adam told Gary about the postal job and here we are.”
“Do you get lonely up here or have you met a lot of people?” Brenna asked.
“Well, people have been nice, but I really don’t get out much, I’m not a very social person.” Julie smiled apologetically.
Makes two of us, I guess, Brenna thought, but she decided to make an effort. “Maybe we can have lunch sometime. I’m in the process of wallpapering my kitchen and dining room, but maybe when I’m done, we could get together,” she suggested.
“That sounds nice,” Julie agreed.
Brenna thought she was becoming more pale and Gary must have had the same impression.
“Let’s go, honey, I think that’s enough exercise for today. We’ll see you later, Brenna.”
“Sure, it was good to meet you, Julie,” Brenna waved as they walked away.
She turned south and started running into the wind, concentrating on nothing but the beauty of the spring afternoon and the crisp ocean air. Her feet hit the wet sand in measured steps and the sun felt warm on her face.
After running about a mile, stopping to pick up a sand dollar and toss a jellyfish back into the sea, she slowed her pace. Looking around, it dawned on her slowly that she had reached the stretch of beach where Jared had drowned. She remembered that group of trees and the huge driftwood stump high on the sand. Tears came to her eyes and she fought them back, sniffling. So this was how it would be. There was nowhere she could go where she wouldn't at sometime be assailed by a feeling of grief. It was just a part of life and it existed here on her beautiful beach as well. She sighed and turned to run up the coast.
That afternoon, Brenna sat on a vinyl bar stool at the counter in Mel’s Cafe.
"Hey, how've you been? haven't seen much of you lately. Adam either. I don't suppose you two..." Wendy smiled at Brenna.
"No! Give it a rest already. I didn't come here to find a man, Wendy. Besides, he's probably busy with the fire department and everything."
Wendy laughed. "Since when did the fire department take the place of a good woman? Do you even know anything about him?"
Brenna swirled her glass of tea around on the counter, unconsciously making rings Wendy would have to wipe up after she left. "I know he's an EMT, he's fairly attractive...I guess that's it." Fairly...be honest already, she thought to herself.
"Well, he's a paid fireman in Port Evan, does three twenty-four shifts a week. Then he volunteers here. He helps the older people around town with home maintenance and he runs with Max. He definitely needs a social life. I heard he broke up with someone before he moved here and he hasn't gone out with anyone since that I know of."
Brenna was flabbergasted. "God, Wendy, is there anything you don't know? Or tell?"
Wendy grinned. "Not much. But I don't gossip, just tell people what they want to know."
Yeah, right, Brenna thought. "Have you told him anything about me?"
"Oh, no," Wendy said innocently.
"I don't need a guy to complicate my life right now, especially one on the rebound. Besides, I'm sure he knows more interesting women than me. Although, I have to admit, he's a handsome man. Now, let's talk about something else."
Wendy nodded, knowing when to quit.
“I ran into Gary and Julie on the beach today. Does anyone around here know her well enough to throw a shower for her?” Brenna asked.
“You know, I’m not sure. I’m ashamed to say I hadn’t thought about that yet," Wendy wiped the other end of the counter slowly. “Probably not, I guess. She’s due in...three months, is it?”
“Yes, I think so. Gary said the middle of August the other day,” Brenna replied. “Maybe we could surprise her with a shower at my place after I’m done wallpapering.”
Wendy’s eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea! I could help you make a list of people she might know or who would like to come. Gary could tell us if there’s any family who would want to come up from Eugene. I think she has some sisters down there.”
“I’ll try to catch him when he drops the mail off tomorrow and ask him. I should get my old crochet hooks out. I used to crochet quite a bit, but then I got too busy. I’ll have time now, won’t I? How does the first week in June sound? I can have the wallpapering done, but people won’t be going on vacation yet and the summer people will just be starting to arrive.” Brenna handed her glass to Wendy for a refill.
Wendy laughed. “Give you a project and you’re on a roll, aren’t you? I’ll make a list of people in town who might like to come. I know Gary and Julie have been attending the Lutheran church so I’ll check with them. And Mrs. McNair, Julie’s at the library a lot so I know they've met. This is a good idea, Brenna. Julie’s so shy I think she’ll be surprised to see how many people would be glad to come.”
“That’s the impression I got too. Are there any good yarn or craft stores in town?”
“There’s a new store that went in a couple months ago in Port Evan...my mom just went there and loved it...oh, I can’t remember the name, ju
st a minute.” Wendy went to the phone behind the counter and called her mother.
“Okay,” she said, hanging up the phone. “The name is 'A Stitch in Time'. It’s on Cranberry Street. You just take the first left after getting into town. I guess it’s got a really good selection of yarn and stuff.”
“Great, thank you. I love stores like that. The only problem is I tend to come away with more projects than I have time for.” Brenna smiled. “I keep forgetting that’s not a problem right now. I’m so used to having my life ruled by my job.”
“Yeah, tell me about it...”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Wendy!” Brenna smacked her forehead.
“Here, let me do that for you,” Wendy said, reaching across the counter. “No, I’m kidding. I happen to like this job anyway, believe it or not. I like working with people and seeing them leave happier than when they came in.”
“Well, I can believe that 'happier' part. Speaking of which, is there any apple pie left?”
Wendy smiled and brought her a large piece. “We aim to please!
A 'Stitch in Time' proved to be a needleworker’s dream. It rivaled stores in Portland easily and actually had a review from a Portland newspaper posted in the window. Brenna stopped to read the article, was suitably impressed, and then moved on to some serious shopping.
There was a wide range of merchandise for all kinds of needlework from knitting to needlepoint to silk ribbon embroidery. The colors and textures filled Brenna’s senses and she was reminded of the pleasure she had once taken in crocheting blankets and knitting mittens for her nieces and nephews in Michigan. She had usually given her handiwork away, but had one remaining afghan, the lavender one she kept on the rocking chair. She should crochet a rose-colored one too...first things first; a baby blanket took priority. Remembering the lovely shade of Julie’s hair, she decided on soft mint green baby yarn for the small afghan. Maybe the baby would have his mama's hair. She came across a deep scarlet that would have looked stunning on Ariel. Well, that was one little sweater that would never be knitted. Brenna resolutely put the sad memory from her mind. Wandering over to the cash register, she picked up several large skeins of rose mohair for a new parlor afghan. After paying for her purchases, she strolled to the Blazer, already crocheting different patterns in her mind.
The cats had spent their morning sleeping in the sun and, as Brenna pulled into the drive, they woke up as of one accord and trotted to the back door, maowing their protest at being separated from their food.
“Hey, I thought cats were nocturnal, you guys,” Brenna informed them as she unlocked the door and they darted past her.
“You know, I’m beginning to feel like I’ve acquired a family, not just a few pets.” Her ‘family’ ignored her.
Shaking her head, she went over to the parlor table to check the messages, trailing a finger through fine dust on the tabletop as the machine rewound. These old houses seemed to get dusty more quickly, she thought.
There was a message from Molly, calling before leaving for work to see if Adam had called her yet. Brenna was slightly annoyed, but had to laugh. Her best friend was about as much a matchmaker as Wendy.
The second call was from Michigan though, and sounded more serious. “Brenna, are you there? No? Well, Sophie fell and cut her leg badly enough to need stitches this morning and she was just wanting to tell her story to Aunt Brenna and get some more comforting. If you get in before eight our time, she’d appreciate a call.” Brenna could hear Sophie whimpering in the background, but she could tell from Maureen’s voice that while Sophie had had a not-good, very-bad morning, it was a tragedy of manageable proportions. Her nieces Sophia and Serena, four year-old twins, had seemed destined for Broadway since they could talk, but this did seem to be a pretty big deal for Sophie. Kids her age were not fond of discovering what lay under their skin.
Going into the kitchen, she discovered the cats scarfing the last of their food. She watched for a minute to make sure Tubby wasn't taking more than his fair share, then poured a glass of apple juice and went to sit in her rocker. She had to look up her sister's number but, while mentally castigating herself for not knowing it by heart, acknowledged she could only stand so much contact with Maureen.
Brenna dialed the number. "Hi, how's Sophie?" she asked when Maureen answered the phone.
“Oh, she’s doing much better. She’s getting some mileage out of it now, having called Gramma and Grandpa and half the kids in her play group.” Maureen was fortunate enough to get along well with her in-laws and have them only about twenty minutes away. “Here she is.”
“Aunt Brenna? Guess what happened to me,” Sophie said dramatically. Not waiting for an answer, she prattled on. “I was trying to ride Eric’s bike and I ran into Daddy’s car and cut my leg and had to go to the hospital and have stitches and I leaked blood everywhere. And now I have a great big band-aid on it and I don’t have to take a bath, but Seri does and she’s pissed.”
“Sophia Raquel, don’t talk like that!” Maureen hissed in the background.
Brenna had to put a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. From what she’d seen of her nieces, they took after their daddy, Bryan, more than their sedate mother, and sometimes Maureen seemed at her wit’s end.
“Honey, I’m really sorry about that. Is it feeling better now?”
“Yah, Mommy gave me some tynol,” Sophie replied. Brenna smiled.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better, honey. I love you.”
“Love you too. When are you coming over?”; as if Brenna lived across town.
Brenna made a face. Visits to Michigan were not the highpoints of her life, except for the one-on-one time with the kids. “Maybe this summer. We’ll see, okay?”
“Okay. By,” and Sophie abruptly hung up the phone. Brenna shook her head. Kids, she thought; gotta love them.
That evening, a mist stole over the yard and surrounded the house as Brenna stood at her parlor window, arms crossed against the chill sneaking through the old panes. It was all very nice to tell Wendy in the light of day that she didn't need a man around, but on cold misty evenings she was becoming aware of a loneliness in her heart. Okay, she'd wanted this life change, but that didn't mean a good man wasn't out there waiting for her as she waited for him. Adam crossed her mind, but she pushed the thought away. Rebound, remember? He was so attractive that he made her feel plain, anyway. That day on the beach, she had been more than aware of the sun glinting gold in his hair, large hazel eyes scanning the sea, his scent warmed by the sun and exercise. And a smile that lit up his face and warmed her heart. Oh, my God! She'd gone and done it now. Just when she was trying to settle into a new life, she was falling for a man whom she could never and would never have. Along with the other reasons glared a large one: he was in medicine. She hadn't come here for that, didn't want that. But there it was, she wanted Adam. Swallowing hard, she blinked back hot tears. She sank to her couch and gathered Olivia into her arms, tears dropping onto the soft fur.
Adam stood at his kitchen window, staring into the darkness at the invisible surf, hearing its waves echoing faintly through the foggy glass. As he washed the few dishes he had used, he remembered his conversation with Wendy that afternoon. She had practically pushed Brenna at him and he would have been ticked if he hadn't known Wendy was young and meant well. She did have a good match-making reputation, but here is where it stopped. He'd already been burned by one beautiful woman this year, thank you. He didn't even know what Brenna thought of him. She certainly hadn't been enamored of him when they met. Besides, she was an experienced nurse with more training than he'd ever have. What would she want with a beach bum of a fireman, thirty going on forty? He shook his head as he wrang out the sponge and wiped his hands. Just because he felt a pang in his chest when her name was mentioned, when he saw her Blazer drive through town, when he saw her on the beach...well, he'd get over it. He'd gotten over worse.
Chapter 14