Chapter 9
Mrs. Carson turned pale, leaned against the wall, and made a fluttering motion with her hand. “You won’t believe what I’ve just remembered. Just let me catch my breath for a minute and I’ll explain,” she said and she walked to the back of the store.
Tory looked at Clara. “Do you think she’s all right? Should we call an ambulance or something? Did I do something wrong? Was there something wrong with Dad’s credit card or something?”
Clara laughed. “No worries Tory. Mrs. Carson is a bit of a Drama Queen in case you didn’t notice. I should have warned you about that. She watches a lot of old movies and can be prone to a “case of the vapors.” Clara pretended to fan herself and swoon like someone from Gone with the Wind. “She’s a sweetheart, but the reason she and Nan are such good friends is because they are total opposites. Nothing grounded and practical about Mrs. Carson, except for the way she runs her business.”
Tory could suddenly picture Mrs Carson in a swirling ball gown, elbow length gloves and a delicate fan in her hand as she appeared back the way she came from the store room holding a garment bag. “It must be twelve years ago since Samantha took off isn’t it,” Mrs. Carson kept talking as though she had never left the room. Without waiting for anyone to answer she went on. “Well, the weekend before she left she was in here for a fitting for a show riding jacket. It was supposed to be for the championship show that year and everyone knew she would win. She tried one on but the sleeves needed to be hemmed. I fitted her and took the measurements and we sent it off for the alterations. But by the time the jacket came back, Samantha was already gone. Ran off with Frank we were told. ’ve kept it all these years. couldn’t bear to take it to Nan and bring back the memories and of course I wouldn’t sell it, so it’s been in the back all these years. It’s just perfect for you Tory, and you’re just the person to wear it.”
While Tory and Clara stood speechless, Mrs. Carson opened up the zipper and took out a beautiful black show jacket. Before Tory could even blink, Mrs. Carson had the jacket on her and was doing up the buttons. “These things never change in style so it will be just right as long as it fits,” Mrs. Carson assured Tory.
Mrs. Carson brushed tears from her eyes and said, “Well, it just fits like a glove. It’s as though it was measured just for you all along. Oh my dears, I feel as though a circle has been completed today.”
Once everything was taken off and wrapped up. Clara and Tory, loaded with packages, including jodhpurs, riding helmet, boots, show shirt, new saddle blanket, crop, and of course, the jacket, left the store. They were almost blown across the street by the force of the wind that had suddenly crept up while they were shopping.
“Wow,” said Clara trying to lighten the mood. “After all that, I think we need a hamburger and fries! ’’
Over fast food, Clara and Tory talked and laughed as Clara told Tory stories of her mother and past shows and things they had done together. Clara explained how Frank, Tory’s father, had been a summer tourist. His parents owned a cottage and for years he came every summer and left every fall. Everyone thought he was so sophisticated and handsome because he had city ways and city clothes and yet was so easy going and friendly. Clara said all the girls were after him but he only ever had eyes for Samantha. “He used to come to the shows and sneeze and smile all the time just hoping for a glance from Samantha. He was scared to death of the horses I think but he tried to act big so Samantha would think he was worthwhile. He always wore sunglasses even inside the barns and we thought that was so cool. Funny, he just told me the other day it was because his eyes were running from the allergies!” Clara suddenly looked as though she was dreaming of something else and Tory once again wondered when Clara and her father had talked to each other but before she could ask, Clara looked at her watch, “Oh my goodness,” she said. “We’ll be late for our appointment! Come on Tory.” Clara jumped up and started gathering up the packages.
“What appointment,” asked Tory? We’ve got all the stuff I need and then some.”
“Time for a manicure,” Clara said.
“A manicure,” Tory shrieked! “It will be wrecked in 5 minutes around the horses.”
“Just cause a girl is horsey and competent, doesn’t mean she can’t look good,” said Clara, sounding very much like Grandma Nan. “This part was Grandma Nan’s treat and she said to make sure the polish was pink!”
With bright pink, sparkly nail polish and perfectly filed nails, Clara, Tory, and all their packages, just made it to the ferry terminal in time for the last boat across. The weather was getting so rough they were canceling all crossings after this one. The deck- hands warned them a hurricane was headed their way. Thankful to have made it aboard, Tory and Clara collapsed in the cabin seats and were too tired to even notice the high waves and winds on the way over.
The drive from the ferry terminal on the Island side to Meadowlands was slow as Clara manoeuvred the jeep through the wind. Tree branches were blowing across the road in places and they were both glad to see the lights of the barn and the house as they pulled in the lane.
Grandma Nan was waiting at the window and held the door open against the wind shepherding them inside with the packages. “It’s good to see you home,” she said. “Quite a storm out there and worse predicted through the night. Thunder and lightning will be coming soon, and then heavy rain I imagine. Clara you’ll stay here tonight. No sense you going home in this and we might need your help if the horses get anxious. It looks like we’re in for a bit of a hurricane.”
“Where’s Dad? I want to show him my new stuff. I can’t believe he cooked this up with Clara. I’ve got everything Grandma Nan. And thanks, look at the wonderful nail polish,” Tory was excited all over again as she hugged Grandma Nan and talked all at the same time.
“Sorry, he went down to the fire hall to make sure the trucks were all secured in the wind,” Grandma Nan said, pursed lips again. “I told him you’d be wanting to show him what you got. He said he’d be back soon.” Just then, almost as though on cue with Grandma Nan’s words, the sound of sirens pierced through the wind.
“Or maybe not,” said Tory. “I’m going to take this stuff upstairs.”
She could feel Clara and Grandma Nan looking at each other as she headed up the stairs. She knew both of them were thinking her father should be home. Wanting to stick up for him, Tory said, “Oh well, he’ll see it all at the show,” but she felt her voice catch through the lump as she said it.
She hoped he’d be at the show.