After tearful goodbyes were said and hugs exchanged, Molly was on her way to Portland in the morning. Brenna took a deep breath, went back into her kitchen and worked for awhile rearranging and putting things away. She had already painted the kitchen shelves and cupboards a glossy ivory so she was able to put away her china and crystal glasses on the shelves near the sink, the heavier mixing bowls and pots and pans in the bottom cupboards.
She walked into the dining room to put some old silver serving spoons into the built-in hutch and pulled open the top drawer. It was already occupied by a long black box. She lifted it out, surprised at its weight, and dropped her spoons into the drawer. Laying the box on the table, she opened the latch and gasped. The box was full of tarnished antique silver, the handles covered in roses with an initial inscribed in the center. Removing a spoon, she scrubbed at the handle industriously until the initial was clear, an italicized C, the same as in her own last name, Callahan. She regarded the silver thoughtfully. Surely this shouldn’t have been left in the house. It wasn’t even the previous owner’s initials. The lady's last name was Montgomery. It was about time she went into town for some errands so maybe she’d check at the rest home and make sure Mrs. Montgomery had meant to leave it behind.
After doing a quick spot check to make sure her clothes weren’t all dusty, she went into the small bathroom off the kitchen to do her hair. She had worn her thick wavy auburn hair past her shoulders for years now. It had been easy to put up into a ponytail or bun at the hospital, but at the beach it became unruly, curling up with tendrils escaping at any given moment. Molly had always worn her bright red curls short. Maybe it was time to cut her own hair. She ran a comb through it and pulled the sides back with tortoise shell combs, viewed her appearance and decided it would do for now.
Grabbing her large leather purse, she picked up her keys and opened the back door, nearly stepping on a small gray tiger cat who sat on the steps looking for all the world as if he expected to be fed. She remembered the realtor’s words concerning the cats and wondered how many more there were. Having never had a cat, she wasn’t sure what they needed, but food was a basic necessity. She swung the door back open and the little cat trotted into the kitchen and up to the sink.
“Well, you certainly know your way around. I wonder if Helena has a name for you. I’ll have to ask if I see her.”
The cat let out a small maow in response.
“Okay, all I have is tuna fish; I wasn’t expecting company. Will that do?”
The little cat fell to eating as if he was starving so Brenna put her purse down and started washing some dishes, thinking to put him back out when she left. But when he was done, he trotted through to the parlor and, hopping into the velvet armchair, curled up and went promptly to sleep.
“Okay...I guess I’ll leave you here for now. Definitely gotta find out about you guys.” Brenna picked up her purse and keys again and made it to her Blazer without further incident.
She drove down the gravel road enjoying the feel and smell of her new vehicle and turned right onto the two-lane highway. About two miles later she entered the town proper, a half-mile stretch of older buildings, many of them brick, housing the town’s main businesses.
First matter of business, the library. The brick building sat on a small rise, back from the road. Brenna opened one of the heavy wooden doors and entered, noting with a smile that the whole library was contained in one room. She had been somewhat concerned she might eventually run out of reading material, but noticed the new book section was full of both the latest fiction and non-fiction. City taxes must be generous to the library here, she mused. Her thoughts were confirmed by the librarian, Mrs. McNair, an elderly lady with a bright smile.
“Oh, yes, we try to keep up with the times. I’m a firm believer that you never stop learning, so I keep up on the adult section too. I order most of the new books, one of my favorite things, as you can imagine.”
Brenna was amused to see that for all their updated reading material, the library still used the old method of stamping books and issuing paper library cards. There was not a computer in sight.
The librarian issued Brenna her blue card and she signed it in her precise handwriting. Heading back to the shelves, she chose two new novels and some mysteries. After viewing the old portraits of past town leaders hung high on the dark walls, she took her books to the desk.
“So, do you intend to be in town long, dear? Are you renting one of the new condos?”
“No, actually, I bought Helena Montgomery’s house on Ivy Lane. Do you know her?” Brenna inquired, hoping for some insight on the woman before showing up at the rest home.
“Oh, my, yes. She is about fifteen years older than I, you know, but I’ve known her since I was a child. Martin Montgomery brought her here as his bride around...1950, it must have been. He had gone off to college somewhere back east and brought her home on the train. Of course, we didn’t get to know each other much until I was in my twenties and we had more in common, but even then she was a very private person. Hmm... I miss seeing her here. She has a great love of reading. But then, I hear she has a touch of senility now, so maybe she’s not interested. Anyway, it’s a pleasure to meet you, dear. I believe Helena would be glad to know you have her house. She loved it dearly.” Mrs. McNair began checking in a stack of books.
Well, thought Brenna, as she trotted down the wide stone steps, now I know where to go for information! She’s probably up on the whole town.
After locking her library books in the car (probably unnecessary, but a city girl’s habit), she headed for the hardware store a couple of buildings down.
Brenna had been studying paint chips since first setting eyes on her house and so was able to make her purchases fairly quickly. She chose a bright white glossy paint for the trim, then decided on a warm pink for her room and a soft yellow to brighten the back room. She went up to the counter and had the salesman start mixing the interior colors while she looked through wallpaper books. This search took a little longer and she scoured every book they had before she made her decisions. She found a paper from England with a cream background and large burgundy and pink roses with deep green leaves. It would match the furniture and atmosphere in the parlor just right. Further back in the same book, she found a pale green and ivory satin stripe and ordered two rolls for the kitchen. Having already painted the dining room walls and wainscoting in the same ivory as the kitchen cupboards, she now chose a border with a background of moss green covered with an ivory rose trellis pattern. On considering the bathroom, she decided the climate might be too damp for bathroom wallpaper so it was back to the paint samples. Brenna quickly chose a pale peach that would compliment the striped wallpaper since the bathroom opened off the kitchen.
Looking at her watch, she saw two hours had gone by and realized she was starving. She drove her car around to the back of the hardware store to load the paint and asked the salesman if there was a good place to eat in town. After thanking him for his help, she drove a block down to the place he recommended, Mel’s Coffee Shop, fairly empty now that the lunch crowd had returned to work. She no sooner found herself a booth and picked up the small menu than there was a waitress by her side, not long out of high school from the looks of her. Some of her shiny black curls escaped the regulation ponytail and her bright smile reached her dark eyes.
“Hi, I’m Wendy, can I get you some coffee?”.
“Please, and I don’t have to look at a menu. I’m starving. I’ll take a hamburger and fries with iced tea,” Brenna replied.
“Just what I like, a woman who knows what she wants.” This came from a man who had swiveled on his counter stool to face her.
Brenna frowned slightly, not appreciating come-ons from strangers, but Wendy noticed and whispered, “He’s really nice, don’t worry,” and walked off with her order.
Brenna allowed herself a small glance to see him smiling at her. Actually, he was fairly attractive if you went for those tall, rugged types with chiseled features a
nd blond curly hair. Molly would have been at the next stool instantly. But Brenna had no interest at the moment...well,very little anyway.
To his credit, she noticed his cheeks had reddened slightly.
“I apologize if that sounded like a pick-up line. I tend to say what I’m thinking too often. Are you new to the area, visiting...?” he asked.
“I’ve moved here,” Brenna replied, really not wishing to share any more information.
“Well, my name’s Adam Chambers. Nice to meet you,” and, sensing her discomfort, he began to swivel his stool back.
Suddenly an earsplitting siren went off and Adam leapt off his seat and ran out the door. Brenna looked around in confusion.
“What is that?” she said loudly to Wendy, who had come out to the front window. Wendy pointed across the street to a brick building and Brenna saw several people racing through an opening garage door, pulling on blue coats as they went.
The siren stopped and a quieter one began as an ambulance pulled out with its lights flashing and raced past the coffee shop and up the street.
“Adam’s with the volunteer fire department. He’s an EMT and firefighter. Where are you from, haven’t you heard a siren before?” Wendy asked.
“I’m from Portland,” Brenna replied, her ears still ringing, “and no, I don’t believe I’ve ever heard anything quite like that!”
“Well, it goes off whenever the fire department gets a call and the volunteers just come from wherever they are, if they can.”
A bell dinged and Wendy went to get Brenna’s hamburger. She ate in blessed silence, watching for the ambulance to return. It swung into the station as she finished her lunch, and Adam ran across the street to pay for his food.
“What happened?” Wendy asked him.
“Oh, we just had to help put Mrs. Wilson back in her wheelchair. She’s getting kind of hard for her husband to handle,” he replied.
“I think you guys and her neighbor are all that’s keeping her out of the rest home now,” Wendy said soberly.
“Yeah, well, we’ll do what we can while we can, but I think it’s coming this year. Maybe they can get a room together. We’ll see. I hate to think of them separated. Thanks, Wendy, see you later.” Turning to the door, he noticed Brenna again. “See you around town. Nice to meet you.” And he was gone.
Brenna went up to the counter to pay for her lunch.
“By the way, he’s thirty-two and single,” Wendy said confidentially, “and I’m only telling you that because I already have a great boyfriend.”
“Thanks, Wendy, I’ll keep that in mind.” Brenna smiled wryly and walked out into the afternoon sunshine. She noticed Adam had returned to the fire station and was talking to the people still there. His easy laugh carried across the street and she reminded herself abruptly that the last thing she needed right now was a man in her life. Still, as she unlocked her car door, she felt wistful.
Okay, she thought, shaking her head, now to the rest home.
Adam stood in front of the brick building and glanced across the street when Brenna left the coffee shop. Long legs, dark red hair reflecting the afternoon sun ...he watched as she climbed gracefully into the Blazer. As she backed into the street, he stepped into the shadow of the ambulance bay. He didn't want her to think he was staring at her, even if he was.
"Hey, Adam, who's that?" asked an EMT standing next to him.
"Oh, no one. Just a new lady in town. Didn't want her to think I was watching her. I just met her and didn't make a very good impression."
The other man laughed. "I find that hard to believe. You used to be a real lady killer."
Adam smiled wryly. "Yeah, well, things change."
Several blocks south of the cafe, Brenna made a right turn and stopped at the small stucco building with the Seacliff Rest Home sign in front of it. She pulled open one of the old wood and glass double doors and entered, recoiling slightly at the smell. She had always hated the smell of nursing homes and had never considered working in one. No, the younger generation was her field, although now, she remembered, she didn’t really have a field at all.
“Well, are you going to woolgather all day or are you here to visit someone?”
Brenna opened and shut her mouth in surprise as she looked down at the frail man in a wheelchair, but before she could reply, an efficient nurse bustled up and said, “Rusty, time for therapy. Let’s go, young man!”
“See how they boss me around here?” the elderly man grinned. “Don’t get a moment’s peace.”
The nurse directed Brenna to the office window and wheeled Rusty briskly down the hall.
“Next time you and me will have to go dancing, young lady,” he called back to Brenna.
“I’m here to see Helena Montgomery,” Brenna told the secretary.
“Are you a relative?”
“No. I recently bought her house and just wanted to tell her how much I’m enjoying it and ask her some questions,” Brenna replied.
“Well, sometimes she’s alert and sometimes not. She’s in room # 6, down the hall and to your left. Her room’s on the right.”
Brenna found the room easily enough. But would it be as easy to talk to the woman? Helena sat in an armchair by the window with a sweeping view of the ocean, sunshine falling on her lap rug. Her pure white hair was pulled into a loose bun at the back of her head and she had a soft blue mohair shawl tucked around her shoulders.
Brenna walked slowly into the room.
“Mrs. Montgomery?”
“Yes, dear?” The white head turned slightly to the right to see her visitor and Brenna walked up to the window.
“Mrs. Montgomery, I was wondering if I could talk to you. My name is Brenna Callahan, I bought your house...”
The elder woman’s face became illuminated with a smile.
“Oh, I’m very glad to meet you, dear! The realtor assured me I would like the new owner. How are things going?”
Brenna was relieved to find her so lucid. She certainly saw no evidence of senility, so she took a seat in a hardback chair nearby.
“Things are going very well. I’ve weeded around the bushes. The roses are starting to bloom over the front door. The rhodies are blooming on the side of the house and the lilacs are blooming in the back yard. I’m not done weeding back there, because I just moved in. Would you like me to bring you some of the flowers?”
“Oh, yes! That would be delightful,” Helena exclaimed. “Please call me Helena. I never did have the heart to cut the roses away from the front door. We just used the back door.” She frowned slightly. “They said some of my cats are lost. Have you seen any of them?”
“Yes, that’s one of the things I was going to ask you. This morning there was a tiger kitty on the back steps. Was he one of yours?” Brenna asked her.
“Oh, yes, only he’s a she; her name’s Olivia. I just fed them dry food and they came and went as they pleased. They’re very good mousers!”
Oh, goody, Brenna thought to herself. Just what I need, little mousey presents on the doorstep.
“Mrs...Helena, I found some very valuable silver in the hutch. Did you realize it was left behind?”
“Oh, yes...” Brenna could see Helena was beginning to tire. “I carefully considered what to leave behind. The silver had been in my family, but I couldn’t use it here and had no need of income since Martin provided for me very well. People tried to get me to have an estate sale, but I knew what I was doing.” She looked at Brenna sharply. “Callahan, your name is? Do you believe in fate, dear? Destiny, as some may call it?” She looked back out at the ocean. “My maiden name was Chatsworth, did you know that? ...I don’t believe I’ll go to the dance after all, dear...”
Was she still talking to her? Brenna sat quietly for a moment at the window and looked out at the rolling waves.
“The baby is weighing so heavy tonight, dear. I believe I’ll rest awhile...” Helena’s eyes closed, but she had left Brenna several minutes ago.
Brenna qu
ietly got up and made her way out.
After yawning repeatedly on her drive home, Brenna felt a nap was in order. All that shopping and the sea air must have gotten to her. Passing a hand over her face, she yawned again and after pouring a cup of decaf into a china mug, went to sit in her rocker, covering herself with a lavender afghan.
Deep in sleep, dreaming...she still sat in the rocker but she felt so strange...heavy...her hands rested on her abdomen, long pregnant with her first precious baby. She was in a different room...the upstairs bedroom, the back room where she first found the rocker. She cried out, seized suddenly by a tightening around her back and belly. This felt like the pains Mother had spoken of but it was far too soon, at least two months...her husband had gone to Astoria on business and she hardly knew anyone here. There, the pain had gone. She could go downstairs to the phone and call the doctor in town. She stood with some difficulty and made her way to the head of the stairs. Oh, God, not here. Another pain rolled across her body as she grasped the railing and groaned. It began to fade just as a warm gush of fluid poured down her legs and feet. She began crying and tried to compose herself; she had to get the doctor. Stepping down, she slipped down the narrow staircase into oblivion.
Brenna woke with a start; Olivia had jumped onto her lap and was turning around, trying to make a bed.
“Oh, God, it was a dream...thank you, Olivia. You could’ve jumped on me a little sooner, you know.” Not bad enough, she thought, that she had nightmares of trying to save impossibly small or sick babies, now she was trying to save her own! And failing by the look of it.
Chapter 5