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| Disgusted |
| 11.23.04 (6:01 am) [edit] |
Well - I'm a little ticked, and I can't find anywhere to complain, so I guess I'll have to do it on my blog. Not that I'm worried anyone is going to read it....
But I keep trying to find a blog that I would be interested in reading and commenting on. today I sort of found one, and then upon looking farther down, discovered it contained porn pictures!! I am upset that they are letting people download those kinds of photos! I guess there is no control. I have no desire to be part of a site that allows that. As soon as I find another place to publish my work, I'll be deleting my stuff. Not that anyone cares on this place...they all seem to be anti-establishment, anti-bush, crude - okay, I'll stop here. good ridance.
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| chapter 9 |
| 11.23.04 (5:28 am) [edit] |
Claude spun around as if he was a top, the look on his face one of total shock. All the color had drained from his face, and it looked pasty in contrast.
“C-cousin!” He gasped, putting his hands on the desk to steady himself. “W-hat are you - um hi.”
“What are you looking for, Claude, that you would break a restraining order to look for? You knew when we were going to church, didn’t you? You planned getting in here while we were gone so I wouldn’t call the police on you.” I felt a cold fury that seemed to fill my whole being as I stared at him. “I can’t believe you.”
He slowly stood up, his face regaining it’s normal color. “Well. Isn’t this a surprise. Had enough church have you?”
“Actually, I was going to have a conversation with someone regarding what I’d learned. But, I have to deal with you instead. I guess it’s time to call the police now, isn’t it?” I stepped forward to use the phone on the desk and he clamped his hand over it.
“I don’t think so.” Hi voice had regained it’s normal coldness and his eyes bored into me. “I am still amazed at the audacity you had of filing that in the first place.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “I had no other choice - you wouldn’t stay out of the house when I asked you to.”
“I don’t have to. This is my house.”
I sighed and folded my arms. I was getting tired of this, I hadn’t missed him at all. “Look, Claude, we’ve been through this, and I guess we’re not going to change each others minds, but just the same - I live here now, so get out.”
He shook his head starting around the desk toward me. “I don’t think so. I don’t see Mildred or Hodges, so there’s no one else here. How are you going to make me?”
There was movement by my side, and I looked up relieved to see Brad standing next to me, his face hard in the soft lamp light. “Will I do?”
Claude stopped mid stride, his face showing his chagrin at my having someone with me. “Oh - and you are?”
I took hold of Brad’s arm, feeling the tense muscles under my hand. “This is Brad Cooperton, one of my neighbors. Brad, this is Claude VanMartin, my ‘cousin’.”
“I’m sure the pleasure is all yours,” Brad said, his voice full of sarcasm. “I believe Olivia asked you to leave.”
Claude glared at me, his eyes dark in the light and full of menace. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you to tidy up then,” he indicated the mess he’d made with the books and papers. “I’ll just let myself out.”
Brad waved a hand toward the door, and then followed Claude out to the front door. I was glad he was making sure he left the house. I turned and surveyed the damage, anguished that he might have really torn up one of the books or lost something that we needed. What in the world was he looking for? I went to the books that were on the floor, figuring I’d start there first. Fortunately he hadn’t had much time to knock more than one set of shelves off. I didn’t know if they were in alphabetical order or not, so I just started putting them up.
It only occurred to me then that I hadn’t asked Claude what was in the letter we’d had sent to him the week before. I had figured it would be better to have the lawyers send it than to have him come to the house. No sense inviting trouble... Brad returned while I was picking up some more from the floor.
“Well, I made sure he got in his car and left,” he said, coming in and looking at the mess. “I also dead bolted the front door. I’m sure Mildred must have locked it, so somehow he’s found a key or some way of getting in the house.” He paused and started picking up books with me. “You don’t think he has Hodges working for him, do you?”
I stood up, books in hand and looked at him in dismay. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if he is paying Hodges, or has some hold over him that Hogdes is willing to go behind his wife’s back and leave the door open for Claude? Does he think Claude aught to be here instead of you?”
His question raised the concerns Mildred had voiced my first day here, and I looked down at the books I was holding. “You could be right,” I said with a sigh, putting the books up. “Mildred said as much my first day here. He gets along pretty well with Hodges, and Hodges doesn’t seem to like me - I don’t know why.”
We were silent for a moment, working in accord with one another. Soon the books were all put back on the shelves, but there was still paper all over the floor and the desk. I sighed and sank down onto the chair, feeling the cool leather against my back.
“This is impossible! Where do we start?” I was dismayed at having Mildred come in and see it like this.
Brad put his hands on his hips, a slight grin twitching at the corners of his mouth. “We could just dump it all in garbage bags and let Mildred sort through it,” he suggested, and I chuckled at him.
“Oh sure...after we made sure it made it into the garbage can?”
He shrugged, the smile still there, now reaching his eyes. “It was just a suggestion.”
Suddenly I noticed a slim volume on the floor that we had missed, one that looked old and worn with leather binding. I leaned over and picked it up, amazed we had missed it. But it was the same color as the carpet on the floor, it must have blended it.
“What’s that?” Brad asked, leaning toward me, his breath warm on my neck.
“I don’t know, I guess we missed a book.” I turned it over and there on the front were printed the words “Journal of Grant Smythe, 1855 - 1933.”
“Wow” Brad’s voice was full of awe, and I nodded.
“This is cool, look, they’ve had it printed!” I opened the book, and there was an opening page of facts and print runs etc. The forward caught my eye and I glanced over it in amazement.
“I decided to honor my father by printing this book which was his life long journey. In it is many of his thoughts, records of his travails and hopes for the future. I hope it benefits all of the family as it has me. J. Smythe.” I ran my hand down along the thick paper, my thoughts going to the journal I had found. “That’s how he signed his name in his own journal,” I told Brad. “What is his first name? I haven’t seen it anywhere!”
He looked at me surprised. “You don’t know?”
“No! No one has said anything about his name other than my uncle, Mr. Smythe, etc. I have no idea. I’ve never thought of asking Mildred. I guess that’s where I should start.” I looked down at the slim book, thinking it wasn’t very big for someone’s life, but then perhaps he hadn’t written about the every day. I had never kept a journal, so if I started one now it would probably end up being pretty small.
I sighed and getting up put it flat on the shelves by the door. “I want to take it upstairs and read it later. Who knows what thoughts he wanted to share?”
Brad smiled at me and nodded. “It will probably be fascinating reading. Didn’t your uncles family come across the plains?”
“Across the plains?” I repeated, wondering what he meant and then it clicked. “Oh, you mean the pioneers?” Brad nodded, smiling. “Yes, they did. Or at least his journal mentions what his father had recorded about coming out here...so that should be interesting.” I looked back at the mess that covered the desk and littered the floor.
“I really don’t know where to start with this. I know some of it came out of the file drawer, but how are we to know which file? And where did all the rest of it come from? This is a file clerks nightmare.”
Brad laughed and started picking up the papers from the floor. “Lets at least get them all in a pile on the desk, and then we can go from there.”
I nodded and started gathering the ones on the desk into piles, realizing that he’d been helping me the whole time and I hadn’t even asked him...
He looked up and found me standing motionless, staring at him.
“What’s wrong?” He came over and took the papers from my lifeless fingers.
“I-I just realized, why are you helping me? I didn’t even have to ask you!” It amazed me, and made the feelings that were growing in my heart blossom into something a little stronger.
He smiled lazily and pulled me into his arms so I could feel the beating of his heart and the warmth of his touch. “Why do you think you’d have to ask me? I had hoped we might be past that by now.” His voice vibrated through his chest, and I closed my eyes, realizing suddenly that I had grown very fond of this man, and I hadn’t even given it much thought!
“It just hit me, as I was watching you,” I whispered, amazement taking away my voice.
He sat down in the chair and pulled me onto his lap. “Olivia,” he gently pulled my face up to look at him, his expression serious, his eyes that warm hazel that sent butterflies going in my stomach. “What are you feeling about us? We haven’t really had a chance to get into depth, we’ve just been getting to know each other. I told you about my parents today, realizing that I probably should have shared that earlier. What are your thoughts?”
I sighed and swallowed, wishing we could just stay curled up in the chair all day. “I just realized that I’m feeling more for you than I thought,” I told him. “I guess I’d thought we were getting to be good friends, but it was more than that. Is there something you want to know about me that we haven’t talked about yet? How are you feeling?”
He smiled lazily, raising his hand to run it along my cheek softly. “I don’t want to scare you. You’ve been like a fawn just getting her legs, and I don’t want to rush you more than you’re ready.”
I licked my suddenly dry lips, picturing what he was saying in my head. I seemed that fragile? But I wasn’t! Perhaps it was just I was naive - I even knew that. “What would you say were I ready to hear it?” I felt my heart start pounding faster at the thought of what I might hear. Would he tell me?
He ran a thumb lightly over my lips making them tingle before he pulled me closer to him and kissed me so feathery light he might not even have touched me, but it sent a shock all through my system, and I gasped. “I would tell you I think I’m falling in love with you.” His voice reached through my shock and then he pulled me close again to kiss me much more thoroughly. It was heaven. Nothing existed outside of us in each others arms. I felt every breath he took, the heat of every pore, the very beat of his heart.
“Oh Brad,” his name came out on a sigh, more like a song of joy. He nodded and pulled me to his chest where he cradled me tightly. How had this snuck up on me? Where had I missed it happening? It was pure happiness, and I didn’t know why it had happened to me, but at this point I didn’t care.
“Have I scared you?” His husky voice came softly from above my head, his voice vibrating through my brain and down to my toes.
“No,” I assured him. “I feel the same way. I just hadn’t realized it before today.”
His arms tightened around me, almost as if he was afraid to let me go. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered urgently.
I nodded. “Me either.”
Right then we heard someone at the front door. Brad sighed, setting me down on the floor. “I set the dead bolt. Does Mildred have a key to that?”
I shook my head, a little weak on my feet. “I really don’t know.”
“Then we’d better go let them in.” He touched my arm lightly before he went quickly out of the room. I watched him go with different eyes.
He was no longer just the friendly neighbor, he had become much more than that, and I pondered that as I surveyed the desk and it’s scattered papers. I started gathering them again, and it made me think of Claude. What in the world had he been looking for? Why in the world would he make such a mess when he knew we would find it like this? I had no illusions that he would have tried to clean it up, he’d been too desperate to find whatever it was he was looking for.
I sighed, having gathered the rest of the papers into what resembled stacks as Brad came back in the room, setting my heart to beating faster.
“Well, it wasn’t Mildred.” He said, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“Who was it?” I was surprised, I hadn’t even thought about why he’d been gone longer than a minute.
“It was a ring and run,” he answered with a shrug.
“A ring and run?” I sat down on the desk chair, thinking that was odd. Most of the people on this street were at church, and none of them had young kids that would be out playing games. “I don’t think so, I think there’s someone trying to scare me.”
Brad looked at me concerned, placing a strong hand on my shoulder. “What do you mean?”
“Who’s gonna be playing ring and run in this neighborhood? Everyone is at church!”
He looked a little started, apparently that thought hadn’t occurred to him. “Oh, that’s right. I didn’t even think about it.” He frowned and turned, leaving the room. “I’ll be right back.”
I sat and looked at the desk with tired eyes. What was going on? First Claude was ransacking my home, and then someone is calling to tell me to get out of the house. Now we have someone trying to get into the door and then taking off. What if it had been Claude trying to get back in? That thought scared me a little, and I chewed on my lip as I waited for Brad to come back.
“Well, whoever it was really didn’t leave a trace. I wonder what is going on?”
“Did I tell you I had a couple of calls telling me to leave if I wanted to stay alive?” I asked him after a moment as we both stared at the desk.
Brad started and looked down at me, his face turning angry. “No! When did this happen?”
“I got one call about a week or so ago, another call just the other day. There’s no way we’ll find out who it is, the voice is masked, and I’m sure they’re using a pay phone or something.” I was feeling very depressed, and ran my thoughts over the morning. I had been in such a good mood when we’d gotten back from church, now things seemed ominous and threatening. I wanted to curl up on my bed with my blanket and shut out the world.
Suddenly Brad’s arms were around me, holding me tight. “Don’t let it get to you, Olivia. That’s what they want to have happen. We can beat this, we will find the answers. You deserve this inheritance, and your uncle wanted you to find out what was going on, that’s why he made it an issue, don’t you think? Perhaps it was something he was unable to take care while he was alive.”
I digested that bit of information slowly, savoring the comfort and strength I felt from those arms. “That is a thought. Thank you, I’m so glad you’re here.”
He tightened his arms pressing lips to my shoulder. “I’m glad I’m here. I could see that panicky look on your face. I’d like to find out what was going too, you know. This whole thing has gotten me intrigued, and I am also concerned for your safety now. I almost wish there was somewhere else you could go stay.”
I sighed at that thought. “I wish there was too, but I actually feel safe in my room, and when Mildred and Hodges are around. I really don’t see either of them trying to hurt me, do you? They don’t benefit from my losing the house. Only Claude does.”
“But didn’t you say that Hodges like and got along with Claude?”
I nodded. “That’s true, I guess perhaps Hodges thinks he’s watching what side his bread is buttered, but it just doesn’t make much sense!”
Brad pulled back and looked at me with a raised eye brow. “Bread is buttered?” He started chuckling. “Where did you get that phrase?”
I shrugged, making a face at him. “Probably my mother! Are you laughing at me?”
He laughed and pulled me back. “No! I’m laughing at what you’re saying, but not at you.”
“That makes me feel so much better.” I groaned, leaning back against him.
He chuckled and then sighed. “What do you think we ought to do?”
I shook my head. “I really don’t know. I guess we should probably tell Mildred what happened, and then I need to call my lawyer and let him know Claude was here despite the restraining order. I’m really curious as to what in the world he was looking for!” I turned my head so I could look up at Brad, wanting to see his face. “Do you think there is any truth to the hidden treasure theory?”
He gave a slight shrug. “I have no idea. Anything could be going on here. What could they have hidden that no one can find? And what could it be? I’m stumped.”
I made a face and looked at the desk. “I guess we should get this paper taken care of. I’m not really anxious to go through it right now, cause none of it’s going to be important.”
“Hey,” Brad jumped a little under me. “Did you ever find out about those bills to Ephraim?”
I looked at him blankly. “Ephraim? Oh yea, I did tell you about those.” I made a face as I remembered that conversation. “Mildred said she had no idea why we were getting them, they just had for several years, that she knew of. She’d never questioned Mr. Smythe about them, figured it wasn’t her place. Well, I’m gonna question. I can call the utilities!” I sat up. Why hadn’t I thought of that before? “Too bad none of them are open today,” I said after a moments thought, frowning.
Brad chuckled. “Don’t kid yourself. Their phone lines are always available. Why not try now?”
I nodded and jumped up off his lap to go to the kitchen and see if Mildred had left the bills there. Sure enough, the opened enveloped with the bill stubs were still there in a tidy pile. Brad had followed close behind me, and he perched on a stool as I grabbed the phone.
He grabbed an apple and eyed me over it. “What are you going to ask them?”
I grinned. “I’m gonna ask if they have the name of the resident and if it’s a rental property. I’m not sure what else to ask.”
He took a big bite of apple and chewed as I dialed the numbers to the phone company. They answered quickly, an automated system, and it referred me to the correct department. I finally got a live person, and chatted with them for a moment before hanging up. “She says that the house has not been listed as a rental, that the resident is just not listed on the bill. It has been paid for the past 6 years by Mr. Smythe.”
Brad raised an eyebrow. “Interesting.”
“Yea.” I dialed the next utility, the electric company, and found out the same information. The utilities had been paid for the past 6 years by Mr. Smythe, with no residential name on the bill. I sat down on the stool next to Brad, disappointed at the outcome.
“This is really frustrating.” I commented after a moment. “I can’t believe no one knows anything.”
“Hey,” Brad looked at me strangely, as if a thought had just come to him. “Why don’t we drive down there and find out who this person is? They have to answer the door!”
I stared at him and then glanced at the clock, which read 11 a.m. “How long does it take to drive down there?”
He grinned and slid off the stood. “About 2 to 3 hours.”
I grinned back at him, thrilled he’d come up with the idea. “Let’s go!”
Having yet to have gone anywhere outside of Salt Lake, it was thrilling for me to drive down with Brad. We went in my car, since it was the more reliable of the two, or so he claimed. I figure he just didn’t want to drive. However, I made him drive since I didn’t know where we were going. He just grinned and slid onto the leather seat with a sigh.
Since we were at the end of August and entering September, the weather had started to cool just a little, so it wasn’t quite as hot as we drove down. Still very dry though, it had been a dryer than normal August. According to all the residents, that was a bad thing. I guess they were all hoping for rain storms all through September. Brad pointed out the prison as we drove past, and I had to laugh.
“Hoping Claude will end up in there?” I teased him. He grinned.
“You never know!”
He told me that Thanksgiving Point was a pretty neat spot, and he’d have to take me there for the shops. We talked and looked at the scenery and I loved the smaller towns that we were passing. We went by this one that had a huge building that said Lehi Roller Mills on it, and he informed me that was where they had filled Footloose. I rolled my eyes, laughing at him. He was very adamant about it, and I figured I’d humor him and just acknowledge it. I found I loved teasing him.
We finally ended up in Ephraim, a small college town that was just starting to come to life as school was about to get in session. We pulled out the bills and the address the service was for, and was able to find the house rather quickly.
It was a moderate two story, with patchy cream colored stucco and high pitched roof. It had a little widows walk in front, and a curved roof over the entrance door. The wood shades on the sides of the windows were painted a brown, and the windows were the old fashioned squares. It wasn’t exactly charming, but it was sort of cute. We pulled in front of it and Brad turned off the engine. We both stared at it, wondering what answers we would find there.
Finally Brad sighed and opened his door. “Well, time to ask some questions.” He came around and opened my door, and I got out, feeling suddenly nervous.
Why were we here? What did it matter that my grandfather was paying someone elses utilities? Who were we to question? I guess now that the estate was mine, it did have some relevance, but it shouldn’t have been a big deal.
“Come on, Miss Peterson. We have someone to meet.” He took my hand and pulled me gently to the sidewalk that was chipped and raised at different points with the growth of tree roots and weather changes. The huge walnut tree in her front yard was full of leaves and walnuts getting ready to fall. It’s roots were huge enough we could see a couple of them under the grass, making things very uneven. It even disturbed the driveway which was now mostly gravel. We walked up to the door and rang the bell, hoping the person was home.
In a moment a small wizened old woman came to the door, stooped with age and lack of calcium, grey hair curled softly around her head, her bright blue eyes peering at us behind large spectacles.
“Yes?”
“Hello - um, my name is Olivia Peterson, and this is Brad Cooperton. We were wondering if you had a couple of minutes and if we could ask you some questions.”
She regarded me steadily, almost as if she had been expecting us. “Of course. I’ve been wondering when you were going to show up. Come in.”
She turned and we fallowed her into the pleasant front room, lighted by a couple of little lamps on side tables. The couch was large and covered with afghans, and there were two large easyboy chairs on either side of the small fireplace.
“Have a seat.” She indicated the couch, taking one of the lazy boys for herself.
“You were expecting us to come?” I finally managed to get out, the shock wearing off at her greeting.
“Oh yes. When I heard that Joseph had passed on, I knew the heir would be wondering why he’d been paying my bills. I figured I’d be hearing from some lawyer telling me that it was going to stop and I’d have to pay for things myself.” There was a dry chuckle - if that was going to happen she’d probably be out in the street.
I gazed at this little woman, sad that she felt her future was not in her hands and who so matter-of-factly accepted her fate. I would never have dreamed of cutting her off, especially if she was on limited funds. I was glad I could tell her that with some assurance.
“I wouldn’t dream of such a thing,” I said firmly, holding Brad’s hand tightly. “I just wondered if you could tell me who you are and why he would have been paying these things for you.”
She smiled softly, relief softening the lines around her eyes. “I’m glad to hear that, young woman. Thank you.” She let out a soft sigh, closing her eyes for just a moment before opening them. “My name is Matty Sorensen, and I used to be a midwife. What I have to tell you is kind of a strange story, I’m hoping I can remember the details clearly. You see...Mr. Smythe had been married before. I was the one who delivered his poor wife’s baby. I had been close friends with his young wife and him, and when he found out that my family had stopped taking care of me, he offered. He felt he owed me something.” She paused, gathering her thoughts. “I guess he felt he owed me for keeping his daughter alive.”
We stared at him. I knew suddenly who she was talking about. “My mother.”
She gasped softly and her eyes bored into me. “Your mother?” I nodded, and she sat back against the soft fabric of her chair. “Oh my. So, he did find you.” She shook her head slowly, her eyes now troubled. “He said he would. He told me he didn’t care if the adoption people said you weren’t his anymore, he said he would always look for his daughter and any children she might have and bring them home when he could. He spent a great deal of money to find you, my dear. So - Livie’s daughter.”
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| Chapter 8 |
| 11.23.04 (5:26 am) [edit] |
Two weeks later I found myself in church, sitting with Brad on one side and Betty with hubby on the other side. I kept forgetting his name, and I was a little embarrassed to ask him again when I seemed to remember everyone elses!
The past two weeks had flown. The date with Brad had been everything I could have hoped for, with my giving him my phone number so he could call when he wanted instead of having to track me down, although I didn’t mind that in the least. We ended up going out the following night, although it wasn’t really a date, Betty had invited us both over to her house for dinner that night. It was the first time I’d played Hearts, a fun card game for four people. Brad had won every game, and we all accused him of cheating.
The Sunday after that I’d stayed home while Mildred and Hodges went to church again, finally taking the opportunity to look at the book Betty had given me. She’d asked me at the dinner if I’d had the time to look at it, and Brad had been surprised and delighted at the same time that she’d given me one. “I wish I’d thought of it!” was his comment, which had made me laugh.
I had felt bad admitting that I hadn’t yet, and so I took that Sunday as a chance to examine it. Finding it definitely interesting, although some of the language was hard to get used to, I’d begun reading it. When Brad took me out the following Friday to a picnic, he asked me if I wanted to go to church with him on Sunday. After having read some of the book, I felt open to that idea, and had agreed. I hadn’t told Mildred about it, so it was fun to see her face when I showed up with Brad and sat by Betty - there hadn’t been any room by her and Hodges.
The church was unlike any of the Catholic chapels I’d seen in California. It was large, with the name in metal on the front, the outside done in rock with large windows. There was a steeple, and I found it interesting that it didn’t have a cross on it, and I didn’t see a cross anywhere in the building. How strange. All the other churches I had happened to come across in my limited ventures, had always had a cross. I figured that was just something that went with Christianity. But Brad and Betty claimed to be Christians...
Brad held my hand all through the services, and it was a wonderful feeling. I couldn’t believe the way things had gone since that first date. He treated me like I’d never been treated before, by anyone. He held open my doors, he held my hand, he pushed in my chair for me, it was enough to turn a girls head!
Now we were listening to someone talking about a mission they had served in Tonga. Wow, I thought, Tonga! That’s pretty far away. He was telling of a time that they had run out of food on the island due to a bad hurricane that had damaged all the trees and plants. He had gotten to the point where he was too weak to stand, and then food had come.
“Suddenly my companion was handing me a bowl of food.” He closed his eyes and lowered his head for a moment. “It was the turning point of my mission. I knew that I’d been blessed and given the chance to live and do some real work instead of the lax way I’d been serving before. I vowed at that point that I would do my best and do as much as possible in the time left to me. My testimony grew in such a way that I can never doubt that my Savior loves me. I thought I had a testimony before I went on my mission,” he told us, his eyes bright with unshed tears and his voice quavery. “I thought I knew what the Savior was like. I came away from that experience knowing what he was like, and knowing that he loved me.”
His words touched my heart, and I felt tears prick my own eyes. What an amazing story. It seemed to warm my heart and I was touched in a way I’d never felt before. I turned to Brad who was looking emotional himself.
“That is just amazing!” I whispered, and he nodded, squeezing my hand.
We listened as he closed his speech and then sat down. But I was unable to really dwell on anything as they started singing a closing song and had prayer. His words seemed to be printed in my mind. Did I know the Savior? Who was the Savior - Jesus Christ? Were they the same person? It perplexed me a little, and I frowned as the prayer ended and we all stood up.
“Do you want to go to Sunday School with me or would you like to go home now?” Brad’s voice drifted through my thoughts and I looked up at him, my feelings in turmoil.
“I think I want to go home.”
Betty leaned over and gave me a quick hug. “It was so fun to see you today! Thanks for coming.”
I smiled back, returning her hug. “It was fun to surprise everyone. I’ll see you later.”
She nodded and took hold of her husband’s arm as they went down the row to the isle. I looked up at Brad again, who had a concerned look on his face.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded, wanting to reassure him. “I’m fine, I just feel a little confused.”
“Would you like to talk about it?” He asked, sliding an arm around my shoulder.
I sighed softly as I leaned into him. I loved his strong arms around me. I felt so safe when I was with him, so cherished, so protected, it amazed me. Perhaps he could help me understand some of what I was feeling and answer some questions. “I would like to talk about it, if you have the time.”
“We can talk in the car.”
He led me out of the chapel into the foyer, where a couple of people came up and shook my hand, introducing themselves to me. A woman with a couple of children whose name was Angela said she was glad to see me, an older man with receding hairline and a worn expression on his face introduced himself as the Bishop.
“Bishop, this is Olivia Peterson. She lives in the Smythe house now.” Brad smiled proudly down at me and I shook the mans hand he held out in welcome.
“Well now, isn’t that nice. What a pleasure to have you here, Miss Peterson. Are you a friend of Brad’s?” His teasing look made me laugh and Brad rolled his eyes.
“Yes sir!”
“Well, we love to have you whenever you feel like visiting. Oh, there’s the missionaries, let me introduce you.” He immediately grabbed the two young men who had been sitting on the stand behind the bishop, and Brad groaned softly as they headed over to us. I had just a moment
to look at him in concern before the bishop started talking.
“Miss Peterson, this is Elder Swanson, and Elder Griffin. They are our full time missionaries.”
“Well, nice to meet you,” I said, shaking their hands. I’d never shaken so many hands in my life. They seemed like two nice young men.
“Miss Peterson,” Elder Swanson said, a welcoming smile on his thin slightly pale face. “I’m happy to meet you.”
“Elder, - “ I looked up at Brad in dismay, having forgotten the names already.
“Swanson.” The elder grinned at me, not offended at all. “My companion -“
The other elder held out his hand and shook mine rather vigorously, and a little too firmly. I was worried I’d have a bruised hand. “I’m very happy to meet you, Miss Peterson. Are you interested in the church?”
I didn’t miss the slight groan from the bishop, or the quick roll of the eyes from the other missionary, and wondered what had been said that was wrong.
“Actually, I am a little interested. I was just going to talk to Brad about today’s meeting.” I told them with a hesitant smile. I wasn’t sure what their function was at this point, but I was interested, and they seemed like nice young men. “Um, Betty Folsom gave me a Book of Mormon and I’ve been looking through it.”
“Excellent,” the two elders said at the time, and we all laughed.
“Would you be interested in taking the discussions?” The younger elder gushed, his eyes bright and his cheeks a little pink.
I grinned at his enthusiasm. “I think I probably would. What do they entail?”
“The discussions are simply short lessons where we explain what we believe, and teach what the Gospel of Jesus Christ is. We could set up a time to come to your home.” Here he stopped, as if he’d run into a wall, some doubt entering his expression. “Uh, Elder?”
The older companion gave a wry grin. “What Elder Griffin is wondering, is if you live by yourself, or if you have others at home? We would rather not make you uncomfortable by yourself. We do have sister missionaries that can come teach you as well, if you would be more comfortable with that.”
“We could also teach you at Brad’s house!” Elder Griffin cried a little excitedly, as if that situation had just occurred to him.
Brad shifted a little on his feet next to me, and I knew he was thinking of the condition of his house. “I- ah - can’t really do that, guys.” He said, confirming my thoughts. “I’m under going a extreme remodel, and I don’t really have anywhere for anyone to sit.”
They all fell silent at that, and Elder Swanson looked at me as if to say the ball was in my court. I chewed on my lip. Did I care who was there? Did I want to do this? Would Mildred mind sitting in as that seemed to be an issue with them?
“Um,” Brad cleared his throat after a moment, a hesitant tone to his voice as he spoke. “I - um, I could come sit in the lessons with her at her home.” He glanced down at me, “If that was okay with you.”
I grinned, relieved he’d come up with that idea. “That would be great! Would that work, Elders?”
They both grinned and nodded their heads, and the bishop seemed pleased as well. “That’s great!” Elder Griffin said, looking as if he wanted to high-five someone. “How soon would you like to set it up?”
I looked at Brad, since we would need to work with his schedule. He grinned down at me, his arm warm along my waist. “I would be free Tuesday night,” he said and I nodded.
“Tuesday night is fine.”
The Elders pulled out their planners and looked up Tuesday, and everyone agreed that was the best day. We set 7 p.m. as the time, and they reluctantly moved off as the bishop shook my hand again.
“I look forward to seeing you again, Miss Peterson,” he said, a warm smile on his face. “You too, Brad.”
“Bye Bishop.” Brad gave a slight wave and we headed out to the parking lot.
“Wow, I’m gonna get to talk to real missionaries,” I said, feeling a little awed by the thought. Remembering how that young man had talked during the meeting, I could hardly wait.
“Just don’t get - “ Brad sighed and opened the car door for me. “I don’t know, I just don’t want your expectations too high. They are just kids.”
“Well, Elder Griffin sure is,” I agreed with a chuckle. “He is way excited to be here, isn’t he.”
“He’s probably new.” Brad told me as he pulled out of the parking lot into the street. “His companion seemed a little more seasoned.”
“What do you mean - new? They don’t come out at the same time?” I hadn’t really given it much thought, they were just missionaries. I figured they came out at the same time and went home at the same time.
“No, they all come out at different times, and then they are put in companionships. Elder Swanson probably has less time before he goes home than Elder Griffin has been out.”
“Oh.” I leaned back in my seat, feeling the warmth from the sun radiating from the fabric. We were in Brad’s car, which was a nice 4 door Saturn. He had a truck he used for the remodeling, but he didn’t want to take me anywhere it in. I still hadn’t ridden in it, I think he was afraid I’d not want to date him anymore once I saw it.
“Have you been on a mission?” I asked suddenly, the thought popping into my head. He was old enough, he could have gone before now.
Brad was silent, and I wondered what he was thinking. I looked at him closely, seeing the slight clenching of his jaw, a little more color in his cheeks. This wasn’t going to be a comfortable subject. “I’m sorry -“ I started, reaching over to touch his arm.
He shook his head, releasing a pent up breath. “No, it’s okay. It was a question I should have known you would ask.” He stopped and contemplated the road, chewing on his lower lip for a moment before he continued. “I always meant to go,” his voice seemed a little tortured, and I felt tears fill my eyes at the torment I sensed. “But my parents died the same year I turned 19.”
I gasped, realizing we hadn’t discussed this yet. Our dating had been filled with little things, surface things, which was okay, but we were moving past that, and obviously had. “Brad! I’m so sorry!”
He shook his head as a tear trailed down one cheek. He roughly wiped it away, taking a tremulous breath. “They had wanted so bad for me to go, we’d been planning on it since I was a boy. They hadn’t been able to have any more children, so I was their only son. I had saved every penny since I was 12.”
I shook my head, and reached over to curl my arms around his, trying to comfort him best I could. “You don’t have to-“
”I want to tell you,” he insisted hoarsely. “Now is a good time.” He concentrated on driving and breathing for a moment and then gave a slight shrug. “I was devastated. They had life insurance, but not enough. I had to use every penny I’d saved just to pay off doctor bills and to bury them. They’d been in an accident, and ended up in the hospital for a month before they died. We never saw it coming.”
I stared at him in horror, hating the thought that he’d been left alone at such a terrible time. “You- you said your grandparents left you your house,” I ventured softly, remembering his words the first day I’d met him. “Were they alive when your parents died?”
He nodded, a little of the sadness leaving him. “They pulled me through. They helped get me back on my feet. They weren’t members though, and they weren’t going to encourage me to go on a mission. My parents had been crazy enough to join that ‘fool church’,” I flinched at the sarcasm in his tone, probably the only bitterness toward his grandparents. “But I didn’t have to follow in their footsteps.”
He sighed and glanced down at me, the experiences and sadness portrayed in the depths of those warm hazel eyes. “By the time I got myself together and decided I did still want to go, I was old enough my bishop felt I needed to get schooling finished and start a family.” He shrugged, and I leaned my head back against the head rest.
“How sad.” I couldn’t picture such a hardship. I had felt so picked on when I’d had to care for my mother. At least I had her. And Brad had had his, howbeit shorter than he’d have liked.
“Well,” he gave a weak grin that made me ache for him. “We didn’t come home to talk about my pathetic life, we were going to talk about the questions you had.”
“Oh yeah,” I said with a start, realizing I’d gotten distracted. “We were.”
“What was it that you had concerns about?”
I sighed and thought about the meeting. “The missionary who talked said he used to think he knew the Savior, but now he knew for real...or something like that. Are the Savior and Jesus Christ the same person?”
Brad nodded and pulled into my driveway. “Yes. Jesus Christ is our Savior. We call him that because he has saved us from our sins.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Saved us from our sins? What do you mean? I’ve never heard that before.”
He sighed and turned off the car, obviously giving the question some thought. “Okay, what do you remember about Adam and Eve?”
I shrugged. “They were the first people.”
“Okay, do you know the story about how they came to be the first parents?”
“No.”
He rolled his eyes and grinned. “This is going to take longer than I’d thought. Do you want to go inside and talk about it?”
“Sure.” I grinned back at him, glad he was willing to help me understand.
He opened my door and we walked up to the front door - which startled me by standing wide open.
“That’s odd,” I said, going slowly toward the door. “I could have sworn Mildred locked this, she always does when we are not all here.”
Brad looked at me sharply, and then back at the door. “Well, even if she hadn’t locked it, I’m sure she would have closed it. Please wait here, let me go inside and check this out.”
I caught his arm in fear, “I’m going with you!”
He sighed and looked like he was going to say something, and then made a face. “Okay, but stay behind me!”
I nodded as we approached the door, peaking around it to the front room. We could hear some sounds from the back, where the den was. I looked at Brad in surprise and he put a finger to his lips.
I rolled my eyes, like I was going to say anything! We tiptoed across the floor to the den, wincing at every creak of every board. I went behind Brad as he approached the doorway, wishing I’d thought to have some kind of security installed. I was going to do that in the morning, first thing! This was enough. We peaked through the crack where the hinges and the door were, as the door wasn’t shut all the way to see Claude in the den, going through the desk.
He had pulled all the drawers out and dumped the papers on the top of the desk, but most of them had fallen off to the floor. The office was in total disarray, and I felt the anger seeping back that he was in our home uninvited again. I prodded Brad with a finger, my lips in a tight line.
“I have a restraining order against him!” I whispered furiously. “He shouldn’t be here!”
Brad shook his head, covering my mouth with his hand. Fortunately, Claude hadn’t heard us, and was muttering to himself as he tossed. We could just barely hear him.
“Where is it? He said he left proof for that bitch, where did he leave it? Don’t tell me she’s already found it? I won’t have it! I won’t! There’s no way she’s the real heir. I deserve this house, and the mystery with it. I know they hid something here, he told me about it all the time when we were growing up. Where is it?” He was growing angrier and angrier with each word, until I was afraid he was going to burst a blood vessel. His face was that bright red from the lawyers office, and his eyes were darting everywhere around the office.
He went to the book shelves and started tossing books on the floor. “It’s got to be here! He kept everything in this room!” He kept tossing, looking through and then behind the books on the shelves, creating even more havoc. “Where is it, damn it!”
I couldn’t stand it any more - he was destroying the den! I slipped away from Brad’s startled grasp, stepping out from behind the door and entered the room, taking him totally by surprise as he was making so much noise.
“Where is what, Claude?”
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| chapter 7 |
| 11.23.04 (5:25 am) [edit] |
Monday morning I decided I needed to get some things straight. I needed to get some clothes, and I needed to get some answers. I decided there was one way I could do both of that, and braved the rising heat already radiating off the sidewalks to trek over to Betty’s house and knock on her front door.
Her home was much like mine, but a little smaller. The door was full of etched glass of flowers, and it was beautiful. I saw her distorted shape as she walked up to the door and opened it.
“Olivia!” She seemed delighted, which made my day considerably brighter. “Come in, dear. What a wonderful surprise! What brings you over my way?”
“Betty, I was wondering if I could ask a big favor,” I said, twisting my hands together as I walked into the coolness of her entryway, observing the lovely family room beyond.
She looked at me a little surprised and indicated I should follow her. “Let’s sit down in the kitchen, I’ve got some fresh muffins out of the oven.”
“You’re brave to cook in this heat,” I commented just to be talking as we entered her brightly painted red and white kitchen.
She laughed and went to the cupboards to get a couple of glasses and a small plate. “That’s why I insisted on quality air conditioning, my dear. I won’t give up my kitchen unless I’m chased out. My husband loves my cooking enough that he was willing to buy the best.”
She set down the little plate with a couple of muffins and gave me a glass of cold milk. “But you didn’t come to ask me about cooking, did you?”
I smiled, unclenched my clammy hands and took a sip of the milk. “No.” I sighed and sat back, liking the feel of her kitchen almost as much as mine. “I’m finding I need some help, and I figured you were the best one to give it.”
She eyed me over the muffin she was picking into small pieces before putting them in her mouth. “What kind of help?”
“I need some clothes. Good ones...quality ones that are going to last longer than the season. I have never had money to shop the top stores, and I don’t know which is the best place to start. Would you be willing to go shopping with me? I would treat you to lunch!” I got it all out in a pathetic rush, almost afraid I wouldn’t have the nerve to ask her. She was just barely an acquaintance!
She looked at me startled for a moment and then put back her head and laughed. It was not the kind of reaction I’d expected! She shook her head at me, amazement clear on her smooth face. “You really fooled me,” she said, regarding me across the table. “ I thought you had something else in mind.” She chuckled again and sat forward. “I am dearly flattered and would love to help you, and I insist you buy me lunch. When did you want to start this venture?”
I grinned, much relieved. I had hoped she would react this way. “As soon as you have a free day. My schedule is clear!”
She grinned at that, taking another bite of muffin. “Well, today my day is pretty planned, but we could go for tomorrow!”
I could live with that. I raised my glass in salute. “To shopping!”
She laughed and raised her class to clink it against mine. “To shopping! May the malls beware!”
The rest of the day was spent at home, talking to Mildred about what I’d found in the den. She was totally surprised, and told me she would have to think and see if she kept any journals from that time herself. I felt bad, because the news seemed to throw her for a loop. She had never thought there could have been another Mrs. Smythe. She told me she did remember that the two were not the happy loving couple I had pictured. They kept to separate bedrooms and rarely did anything together, so perhaps it was not a marriage of love, but of convenience.
I groaned as I sat in my room, holding his journal in my hands. Marriage of convenience? Why? What was the convenience? She needed a father or provider for her children? Who was the second Mrs. Smythe really? And who was Livie? The questions were driving me crazy, especially since I didn’t really see any answer.
Suddenly the phone rang by my bed and I looked at it startled. I hadn’t been really thrilled with Hodges putting a phone in here, I didn’t want to talk to anyone yet, heck, I hardly knew anyone that would be calling! But there it sat, and so far, I’d not heard it ring all day. Did I want to answer it? No, but it seemed Mildred wasn’t going to either... Sigh.
“Hello?”
“You’d better get out of the house if you want to stay alive.”
“What?” The creepy low voice startled me, and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. There was a click, and the phone was suddenly buzzing in my ear. I lowered the handset slowly, feeling the first inkling of fear in a shiver down my back. Had I heard correctly? Get out if I wanted to stay alive? Who in the world would be threatening me?
Claude. I groaned and rolled my eyes, my breathing beginning to slow. Of course he would try threatening me...he’d probably just been served with the restraining order and wanted to get me back. I chuckled weakly, shaking my head. I should have known he’d start with something like this...he was the one to benefit from my leaving.
“Olivia?” Mildred’s voice came to me from the stairs and I stood up to open the door.
“Yea?”
“Who was on the phone?” Her voice sounded a little surprised that I had answered it.
“Oh, it was a crank call. No problem.”
“Okay. Lunch is ready!”
“Great,” I told her with a soft sigh. “I’ll be right down.”
The one thing about not eating my own cooking, was choosing when I could eat. I was used to eating only when the urge hit me, or I had the time. Now, with Mildred, I had very set times for eating, and they followed her agenda. Sometimes it wasn’t as convenient as I thought it would be. What if I wasn’t hungry? I wondered if I should start eating out during lunch, so that she didn’t go to as much work, but decided to wait a while. Things were still so new, and I truly valued the friendship I felt from her. If I had to eat to her timetable, I guess I could do that for a little while. I closed the door to my room and headed down the stairs.
I had lost almost a week now, just getting moved in. I felt like it was a deadline I was going to have more difficulty meeting than I thought. Perhaps I could get Hodges to talk about what he remembered at lunch...
The next day spent shopping with Betty was so much fun I didn’t want to stop, even though we were exhausted. I’d never understood the phrase ‘shop til you drop’ until now. I’d always run out of money first! But we went from one end of a mall to the other, starting with big department stores I’d never heard of and working our way through all the little ones. By the time we were finished, I’d made three different trips to the car, and that was before lunch! It was almost like I had to have everything I saw - simply because I could afford it now!
Betty just laughed at me and encouraged me to find my tastes and the clothes I liked. I decided I had an affinity for cotton and lace and suede. Oh my. I had no idea how much those items costed! I bought a little something for Mildred, it had reminded me of her. On of the shops we had walked past was a cooking specialty store. There on the shelves in the window was a small glass apple. I knew she’d get a kick out of it, so I’d run in and purchased it. Betty had made some purchases too, but mainly she was just wonderful company and a steadying hand. When I would reach for something that was more fad than fashion, she would touch me lightly and steer me another direction with something like, “Sure you don’t want to look at this first? It might be more to your liking.” Which was exactly why I had invited her along.
My mother had never had time to really shop with me, as if we’d really had the money for that sort of thing. Betty really felt like a surrogate mother by the end of the day, and as we drove back to our homes, I told her how much I appreciated her taking time to shop with me. It had been wonderful.
She smiled over at me from her side of the car, we drove my Mercedes. “You are sweet to say so,” she told me with a soft sigh. “Shopping with you is almost like having one of my own daughters with, except without all the trimmings.”
“Trimmings?”
“All the baggage...you know, the stuff you bring with you through the years of relationship. The presumptions, the easy offenses, the quick anger and swift emotion changes. We rarely have any kind of time together without some kind of misunderstanding, or fight, even if just between the two of them! My two daughters are the most volatile personalities I’ve ever met, and their father and I cannot understand where it comes from. Certainly not us!”
I stared at her for a moment, having never heard this type of thing before, especially since I grew up an only child. “Wow. I agree with you, I would never have thought of you two as volatile.” Betty? Like a flower without thorns...lively yes, but volatile? I shook my head at the thought and returned my attention to the road. “Where do you think they get it then?”
Betty sighed. “The nearest we can figure is they get it from their grandparents. Both his father and my mother were rather volatile personalities. It’s a pity it had to be genetic.”
I chuckled at that, shaking my head. “Well, at least you know you did what you could. I am flattered being with me is like being with your daughters.”
She reached over and touched my arm lightly. “You are a lovely person, Olivia. I’m very glad we are neighbors, and I hope you’ll never hesitate to call on me when you need something.”
I felt warmed by her words and we drove in companionable silence until I pulled onto the street.
“Would you be offended if I asked you something about religion?” Betty said suddenly, startling me.
“N-no,” I said after a moment. “What?”
“Are you interested in religion?”
“Well, a little. Since I’ve moved here I’ve heard more about God and Jesus Christ than I have in my whole life. Mildred told me that you were members of her church, the - um, church of Jesus Christ or something.”
She chuckled as I pulled into her driveway. “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, actually. Although at least you had the important part right. Would you be willing to accept a gift from me?”
I looked at her in surprise, wondering where she was going with this line of questions. They didn’t seem to belong together. “Yes.”
“Good. You stay here, I’ll be right back.” She hoped out and gathered her bags before running up the walk to her door.
I watched her go, wondering what was on her mind. I had been truthful, I’d never heard so much about religion in my life before moving here. It was a little strange, although I didn’t mind it. It was refreshing and a little - I searched for the word as I gazed unseeing at her front yard - intriguing. It did make me wonder what was going on. I had given Mildred’s questions some thought a few times, but my mind has been occupied so much with the mystery of my mother and grandfather that I hadn’t given thought to much else.
I folded my arms, wondering about the things she had expressed. Okay, there is a God. And, he had a son, Jesus Christ. That was pretty basic, probably everyone knew that. Did I believe it? Most likely, if I gave it deep thought. I knew there was a God - whether her operated strongly in my life or not was another question. So, what was Jesus Christ to me? I wasn’t quite sure. I had never taken that question seriously before. Did I want to know? That was another good question.
I wasn’t sure. I mean, what would it mean if I did know? Would I then have to ‘join’ a church? I wasn’t sure I was ready for that yet. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to have happen in my life right now.
Suddenly there was a flicker of soft yellow at the windows and I saw Betty coming out the door. She seemed to be carrying something small and dark blue, and I waited for her to come closer before I rolled down my window.
“Here,” she said somewhat breathlessly. “I want you to have this.”
I took the book she handed me, seeing it’s simple dark blue cover with gold printing across the front and reading it aloud softly. “The Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ.” I looked up at her, a little confused. “What is this?”
“This is the Book of Mormon, Olivia.” She said, licking her lips as though she was nervous. “It’s a book that was translated in the 1800's from some gold plates. There’s an introduction in the front you can read, I’m not sure I can explain it right, but it’s kind of the basis of my church, and I want you to have it.”
“Okay.” I put it on the seat where she had been sitting, wondering why she was acting a little strange. “Are you okay?”
She grinned, obviously relieved that I’d not been upset with her. “I’m just fine. I just haven’t done that in a while, and it’s a little difficult for me.” She let out a big breath. “Whew! Okay, well, you go get those clothes put away and give me a call later! We’ll have to have you over for dinner.”
I was thrilled at that thought. “I would love that. Thanks again, Betty!”
She waved and went back up the steps to her house, and I pulled out of her driveway and headed over to mine. Why had she been so nervous about giving me a book? Heavens sakes, was I supposed to be upset? I shook my head and parked, grabbing the book and my purse out of the seat before locking the car. I had too many things to deal with right now than to worry about Betty and her anxieties. Time to get all those bags into the house!
It amazed me how thrilled Mildred was for me as I hauled all those bags up the stairs. You would have thought she had gotten all these things instead of me. She helped me carry up some and then sat as I made a couple more trips.
“What did you do - buy out the mall?” She teased, a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there for a couple of days. I think she was working too hard, and it concerned me. How could she be working so hard when there was just me?
“No!” I retorted with a grin, dropping the last of the bags on the floor by the bed. “Just half of it.”
She chuckled and clapped her hands together. “Okay, show me!”
So I did, It turned out that I was going to get rid of all the old clothes in my closet because I had really bought enough to fill it with new. Literally fill it. I’d never owned so many shoes in my life! But there had been so many that fit me and went with what I’d bought, I couldn’t bear to leave any behind. The shoe salesman had been in heaven.
I showed her my very favorite, a long formal dress that I’d always dreamed of owning - who cared that I didn’t have anything to wear it to, or a reason for buying it. Why had I bought half of what I did anyway? Not because I needed it...
“Oh, Olivia! That is beautiful!”
“Isn’t it gorgeous? I saw this as we were going out of Dillards and just had to try it on!” I sighed and leaned against my bed post, holding the dress to me, remembering the feel of the fabric as it slid over my shoulders. “I’ve never owned a dress like this. You should see it on me!”
Mildred smiled. “Put it on!”
She didn’t have to ask me twice. I ran into the closet and tossed off my clothes and quickly slipped the dress over my head. It was the color of turquoise, with a fine shimmery lace overlay. It was more of a Grecian cut than anything I’d seen, gathered at one shoulder to lightly drape over the other and fall over the back, dipping just a little and then flowing down to the floor. The short sleeves had the same lace overlay, almost draping around the arm. I had also found some shoes to wear with it, and came out a little breathless, feeling like a princess.
“See, Mildred?” I gushed as I opened the closet door.
Standing there, looking so familiar since I’d thought of him every night since he’d given me the daisies, was Brad. Dressed in his work clothes, his hands and face slightly dirty from the demolition, his hair slightly dusty and messed, I found him as attractive as ever when I saw the look in those eyes. I’d forgotten the color of those eyes.
“Brad!”
“Olivia.” His voice was a little deeper than I’d remembered, and it sent little tremors of excitement down my legs. “Going to a ball?”
I giggled a little hysterically, wondering what he was doing there, and wondering what in the world I was supposed to do. What was he doing in my room? “No!”
“She was showing me the products of her shopping spree.” Mildred’s voice came to me from behind him, and I realized she had let him in. “Olivia, Brad came to say hello and I let him come up. You don’t mind, do you?”
I shook my head, thinking frantically, of course I do! I’m not dressed right!
“Been shopping, huh?” He grinned, and that white toothed smile sent the butterflies going in my stomach.
“Yeah, never had so much fun in my life.”
“Doesn’t that new dress look lovely, Brad?” Mildred’s voice was full of innocent admiration, and I wanted to kick her. I didn’t want any prodding!
His gaze had never left mine since I came out the door, so I figured he liked the way I looked. Now it got even warmer, and I realized I’d forgotten the golden hazel of his eyes. “I was noticing.” His voice was a little husky and I licked my suddenly dry lips. “I was just going to tell her that she is a vision.” He stepped just a fraction closer, as though he couldn’t help himself. “Are you sure your real?”
I couldn’t tell if he was serious or teasing me, and I wasn’t sure how to answer him.
“She’s real enough.” Mildred’s voice cut through what seemed to be my own little world with just Brad and me, filled with a little satisfaction and humor. “I’ll be downstairs, Olivia.”
“W-“ I had to cough lightly to clear my throat which had suddenly gone tight. “What did you need?”
He seemed to swallow and glance away from me for a moment, before that warm gaze was back. “I had hoped to ask you on a date,” he said quietly, seeming a little embarrassed.
My heart jumped at the words, and I wondered if he could hear it pounding. “Oh? What did you have in mind?”
“I was going to ask you to dinner and a movie,” he replied, stepping closer to the point I could almost feel the heat radiating off of him. “But seeing you like this, I don’t think that’s worthy.”
I smiled, feeling suddenly powerful at the warmth in those eyes. “I would love dinner and a movie,” I told him softly, thrilled he would ask me. “How could that be unworthy?” What a strange way of putting it!
He reached out a barely touched my cheek, tracing the tip of his finger down my jaw line to my chin, leaving a trail of heat behind it. “You deserve to go to a ball in that.”
I blushed, looking down at the dress, breaking contact from those eyes. “It isn’t going to disappear, that would be fun to do sometime. They don’t give balls in the summer though, do they?”
He shrugged, his hand back at his side. “I really don’t know, but I’m going to find out. Until I do, Friday?”
I nodded, thrilling again that he was asking me. “What time?”
“I want to spend as long as possible,” he said softly, suddenly taking a step backwards. “How does 5:30 sound?”
“Wonderful.” He could have said three in the afternoon and I would have said. I didn’t care what time, just as long as he came to get me!
“Good.” Suddenly his eyes were off me and he was going to the door. “I- I’d better get back to work then, I guess I’ll see you Friday.”
“Okay, Friday at 5:30.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.” I stood there, rooted to the spot, the moment of wearing the most beautiful dress in the world definitely overshadowed by being asked out by what I considered to be one definitely handsome man of the world. I sank down on my bed, feeling definitely like those girls you seen in movies where they have that sappy dreamy look on their face after a boy kisses them, or asks them out. A date! I had a date with Brad Cooperton! How in the world was I going to wait until Friday?
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| Writers block! |
| 11.18.04 (4:59 am) [edit] |
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Well...I get 6 chapters done and then go numb from the shoulder up....argh! I am hoping to get more writing done today. Thanks for hoping there's another chapter... Perhaps tomorrow!!!
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| Chapter 6 |
| 11.17.04 (6:50 am) [edit] |
September 30, 1933
Today it has been almost a week that we have been married. Livie gave me this journal as a birthday present today, telling me that I needed to add to my families records. What a silly girl she is, but I will try, for her. We’ve had another dry year for summer, and it’s making everyone nervous. I’m glad my income is not related to water or crops. People will always want to read! We have settled into our home, although Livie says she wants to add a few things. I can’t believe how wonderful life is. I never thought I would be so happy. Regards, JS
I sat back, smiling at the thoughts on the page. He loved Livie even though the photo didn’t give that impression, and that was something. I turned to the next page.
November 29
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and we are going to Mother’s house. Livie is excited, although she hasn’t been feeling very well. I’m concerned. I am calling the doctor on Monday. The weather has been getting cold but we haven’t had any snow yet. Everyone is afraid for another year of drought. I can think of nothing but my darling wife and the joy she is to me. That’s what I’m thankful for. Regards, JS
There wasn’t another entry until New Years day, which surprised me. Apparently nothing happened he wanted to write about - I thought with a grin. What an interesting man. He didn’t say much about what was happening around him, other than the weather. He just talked about his wife. What a love story!
January 1, 1934
Today has been stormy, snow whipping around the corners of the house, whistling and calling. Livie says that means there are envious spirits out there trying to get into our warm house. I laughed at her and hugged her. I love this woman who consented to be my wife. She is so full of joy and happiness, it has made me so very happy, I just can’t believe how it has changed my life. I remember reading grandfathers journal as he was coming across the plains, and how he had cherished grandmother, how hard it had been to loose her. I know now what he meant. Wonderful news, Livie is expecting! What a surprise! She was feeling morning sickness when I wrote last, and I thought my joy couldn’t be fuller. She radiates. Everything around her seems to add to the glow that emanates from her skin. Her smile lights up the room. Even the neighbors have commented. My mother has suggested that perhaps now is the time to hire some help for Livie so she can save her strength. After the baby, my mother says she will need to focus on taking care of it and me, not the house. I hadn’t thought of that, I shall go to the agency in the morning. I’m going to be a father sometime in June, I think. I can’t believe it! Regards, JS.
February 13, 1934
Tomorrow is Valentines day. I haven’t thought about getting her anything until today when she mentioned she hoped I was taking her out for dinner. Now I think I’ll purchase a gift. She deserves all that I have. I have never felt such happiness. Regards, JS
There wasn’t another entry until March.
March 23, 1934
We had an earthquake! I’m still upset, I don’t know what to do. Livie was inspecting one of the schools for the women’s board, and some bricks fell on her. I didn’t want her to be there in her condition, she wouldn’t listen to me! And now she’s confined to bed, they’re worried she is going to loose the baby. I don’t know what I’ll do, but I just want my Livie back. She is so lifeless, so pale. There is no light left in her, I don’t understand what has happened. Mother has come to stay with us, and we have hired a nurse to stay. But nothing we do seems to help. The bishop and the counselors came and gave her a blessing last night. It seemed to help a little, but I don’t know if she is lacking in faith or if it’s me. My mother just shakes her head, she is very worried too. I better go, she gets nervous when I’m gone. JS
I sat back, a twinge of fear in my stomach. Livie was in bed with her pregnancy? Back then that didn’t mean good things. Is that why she was sick all the time afterwards? But what about my mother? I didn’t remember Mildred telling me about a baby, just young children! I turned the page, hoping to find something else to tell me. There was only one entry left - no more writing after that.
May 4, 1934
Livie gave birth to a tiny baby girl this afternoon, and then passed away. My world has gone dark. My poor baby girl, I cannot help you. You should bring light to me, but there is only darkness. Livie is gone, my Livie! What will I do without you? Mother said we should hire a nanny for the baby, but I can’t think of that right now. I have to arrange the funeral, the grave, the casket - how can I bear it? My dear Livie gone to the grave! I know I shall see her again, but how do I last till then? Can I not take my own life now and join her? The Bishop was here soon after she passed, offering words of comfort, but they were all hollow. Nothing matters now. Nothing.
That was it. That was all he wrote. I stared at the entry, not comprehending. If his wife had died, who was the woman in the photo? Mildred said that was Mrs. Smythe! My feelings were mixed, as I sat on my bed, and a great sense of loss and sadness washed over me, making my eyes sting. My grandfather had loved my grandmother in such a way I’d only hoped I’d be able to find. I felt like I’d lost him all over again, even though I’d just found him.
I blinked, reaching up to touch my cheeks, feeling the tears that had been flowing with out realizing it. How sad! It was almost too hard to bear just reading it. I reflected on what Mildred had told me the first day I’d come. She had been hired right after Hodges and her had gotten married, to help Mrs. Smythe and the three children. Hadn’t it been right around this same time? But they couldn’t have had three children that at that point, he said they’d only been married a week in September of 1933. And Mildred hadn’t said anything about a little baby!
I shook my head, slipping down in my bed a little, the journal falling to the side. It didn’t make sense. The whole thing was still such a mess. And I was no closer to finding out what I wanted to know, other than now I had a grandfather and grandmother who had died, and I was still alone. Still! I sighed and looked over at the window, seeing the leaves on the trees fluttering slightly. It was a gorgeous day outside, and I was planning on being cooped up in my room with my thoughts. I really was crazy.
I closed my eyes, pressing my fingers to my forehead which suddenly felt like a headache was coming.
How he had loved her. That was somewhat of a comforting thought in the crazy mystery of this whole thing, that they had loved each other so much. I laid there, feeling exhausted by the story I had read. This was a mystery. But he created it? How was I supposed to bring this all out? How was I going to prove Livie was not the same woman in the photograph?
I groaned and slipped down all the way onto my pillow. It hurt to think about it, it was so confusing. The details kept circling around in my head until I turned my head and focused blearily on the daisies.
That seemed to stop all thought and I just stared at them until my eyes grew tired and I fell asleep. Time enough for mysteries later.
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| Chapter 5 |
| 11.17.04 (6:40 am) [edit] |
It’s Sunday. The thought penetrated my head as I stared blearily at the canopied ceiling. I’d been here almost 5 days now. I heard muffled sounds from downstairs and realized Mildred must be cooking breakfast for her and Hodges, that was what had woke me up. Sunday was their day off, except for dinner, and I couldn’t imagine why they were up at this hour. I groaned and rolled over, pulling the covers up to my ears.
Yesterday hadn’t been a very good day, and I hadn’t slept well last night. I just wanted to sleep the day away. It seemed I suddenly had to deal with a myriad of things that I’d never have dreamed would be something I’d have to be responsible for.
No sooner had I finished breakfast with Mildred yesterday than Hodges had come shuffling around, disapproval sharp on his long face as he asked me if I had any preference as to how he did the gardening. How he did the gardening? As if I assured him I had no intention of changing the routine or his job. He raised an eyebrow at me and shuffled away, mumbling something about uppity youngsters having more money than they know what to do with. Thinking about what Mildred had said about him going on a mission made me shake my head as I watched him. It was hard to believe.
I ended up taking a long walk around the neighborhood, observing the young couple out working in their yard, which was apparently the only day they did so. We had waved at each other, but they hadn’t invited me up to talk. I spotted Betty and her husband out in their yard. She had come down - chatting for a few minutes while directing her husband to move a rock here or there. He was cordial and friendly, grandfathery looking - more so than her. He rolled his eyes at me, and I had been charmed by their relationship. It was good to have them as neighbors.
Brad hadn’t been up and about at his house yet, although since it was after 10 a.m. in the morning, I was pretty sure he was out getting supplies, hard as he had been working. I knew he’d be working on the house if he was there, the way he had expressed a desire to finish. I had grinned at the memory of that encounter along with the things Mildred had hinted at, and walked on.
I ended up at the house next to mine, realizing I hadn’t met that neighbor yet. This was the infamous Mr. Olgovie, and I realized I still needed to talk to him. The day before had been taken up with lawyers and bankers and stuff. Now I surveyed his home realizing the house was similar in design to my own, however a bit less cared for in the yard area. The house was beautiful, painted a soft yellow with green and purple accents. If the yard had been as well kept as mine, it would have been the jewel of the street, I was sure. I stood gazing at the lovely picture it made for a moment, thinking perhaps now would be the time to approach him and introduce myself when suddenly an old man appeared from behind the house, glaring at me with beady dark eyes under shaggy eyebrows, the same white as his hair which was easily to his collar.
“Go away!” He yelled, as he came toward me. His voice was gravely and low, grating a little on my nerves in contrast to the wonderful morning I’d been having. “ What do you think you’re at, the museum?”
“I - I’m sorry!” I stammered, dismayed by his attack. “I was just walking-”
“I don’t care what you were doing!” he interrupted angrily waving a cane, his suspenders holding up his dirty brown slacks over a threadbare and soiled shirt threatening to slip down his boney shoulder at the motion. “I don’t want you standing there gawking at my house! Get moving!”
“I’m going, I’m going!” I had cried, actually afraid he’d come use that cane on me, hurriedly running the rest of the way to the house. I ran up the steps and into the kitchen, hoping to find Mildred. I needed someone that had a sane head on their shoulders. His reaction had been totally uncalled for! “Mildred!” I had called and called for her, only to be met by an empty kitchen.
I remember sinking down on a stool, still shaking at the encounter. The man had been so mean! I’d never met anyone like that! He wouldn’t even listen to me! I put my trembling hands on the counter, trying to still the shaking. I’d never been spoken to like that before - unless you counted Claude, I amended, my sense of humor emerging from my panic. I had no idea why he would be so angry, I hadn’t even set foot on his lawn! You just never know with some people. I closed my eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, then realized I heard a sound from behind me.
I had spun around to see the very object of my thoughts grinning at me from the door way. “Hello,” Claude said, his eyes colder than ice. “Have a little run-in did we?”
“What are you doing here?” I almost wailed in my dismay. Did this man never get a hint?
“Hodges had some questions, and since you seemed unwilling to answer them, he called me, figuring I’ll be ending up with the house anyway.”
I clenched my jaw, standing up from the stool. He actually had a reason for being there! That still didn’t mean he could be in the house. I took a deep breath, feeling my pulse change from fright to anger. “Interesting. I’ll have to have a discussion with him about that. In the meantime,” I was getting more of a grip on myself, and my voice was calming. “The yard is outside - where Hodges is.”
“Yes well,” stepping away from the door frame he had grinned, but it wasn’t warm coming from that face. “I had to see my charming cousin and see how things were going.”
I glared at him, wanting to tell him where he could stuff that ‘charming cousin’ bit. We both knew he didn’t think me charming, any more than I thought he was. “It’s only been a day or so since you saw me last. Are you attempting to tell me you missed me?”
He chuckled at that. “Why yes, actually.” He came to a stop a foot or so away from me, and I felt the need to edge back from him. He was so slimy - I didn’t like the grin on his face. “Met all your neighbors yet?”
I shrugged, taking a tiny step back. What was it he was after? “Most of them. Do you know them?”
“Only Olgovie,” he said obviously enjoying the interchange. I wanted to throw something at him, but there wasn’t anything handy. “He’s the crotchety old guy that lives next door. He’s crazy you know, some claim that he’s murdered his wife and buried her in the back yard.”
“Oh sure, along with his favored dog, right?” I’d heard so many stories of people who had buried someone in the back yard, this was something I wasn’t even going to give credence to. “Look, I have things to do, so if you’ll run along and see what Hodges needs your opinion on...”
His look went sour. “I’m serious, you’ll see. And I’ll run along when I’m good and ready. You still don’t get the idea, do you?” His voice turned menacing and he stepped closer.
I had glared at him, angry he was trying to intimidate me. “What? The same idea that you don’t get? That this is my house till I vacate?” I knew that would anger him even more - the fact that I could possibly solve the mystery and end up staying here as long as I wanted.
Suddenly the front door slammed open, and we heard Hodges mumbling something about people parking where they block the walk way. I quickly stepped back, walking behind the counter and reaching for a glass so I could get some water, figuring it was not an excuse, my throat was dry as a desert.
Claude had grumbled under his breath as Hodges stomped into the kitchen. “Oh, there you are. Come on back and see if this is gonna work for you. I expected you a while ago.”
I gulped my water down as they left the room, Claude sending a searing glance my way as he went. This had to stop! I couldn’t stand this man walking in whenever he felt like it! I knew he was trying to intimidate me, as well as act as if he was interested in me. What a joke - as if I would believe such a thing!
Now, curled up in bed with warm covers and cheery room surrounding me, I felt a little reassured. Even though he hadn’t yet been informed of it, the process was already in place to put a restraining order on my ‘cousin’. I almost wished I could be there when they served him with the papers.
Then my heart sank a little. Yesterday had been one nightmare after another, as far as I was concerned. Today had to be better. I meant on insisting the doors be locked all day, and I wasn’t going out of my room. Sunday was supposedly everyone’s day of rest, and it was going to be mine as well.
I kept under the covers, closing my eyes and making myself relax. Eventually I was able to put my troublesome thoughts out of my head and felt my body relax into semi-sleep. It felt wonderful and I found myself thinking about the picture I had found in the front parlor a couple of days before. Mildred said it was my uncle and his wife. She looked such a cold woman, it was almost hard to believe my uncle had found happiness with her. He looked, well, rather happy, there almost seemed to be joy emanating from him, even though it was one of those old photos, I believe Mildred said they’d had it taken about 1934, just before she’d come to stay with them with Hodges.
I couldn’t figure that. How would he be happy with such a woman? She had sat so stiff and straight as if she’d been tied to a board, her hair tightly curled close to her head, her lips in a firm line with no warmth. I hoped she was a happier person in real life, and that my uncle had found some happiness. At least they’d had children together.
Something about the photograph didn’t sit right though, and even as I spend several minutes studying it, I couldn’t figure out what it was. I had ended up shrugging, and going on to look at other pictures on the walls.
Now I thought about the couple, and the lives they had led, and wondered if this house was meant for happiness. It seemed to have known only sorrow, really - with the wife being ill and the son dying and then eventually everyone one of them were gone! Only Claude and I were left to carry one, and that didn’t give me much hope.
I sighed with a slight smile, rolling over in bed to see a small vase with a couple of daisies. Mildred had brought it up last night as I was getting ready for bed. She said that Brad had dropped it off at the door.
“Brad?” I’d gasped at her, looking at the cut glass vase with the bright flowers in it. “I wonder why he brought me daisies?”
“Perhaps he didn’t want you to think he was too forward,” Mildred had replied, a knowing glint in her eye as she’s shut my door.
Now I looked at them and knew she was right. If he’d sent me roses, even just a single one, I’d have been thinking he was really crazy. Now I just thought he was cute. I remembered him talking to me outside of his house and amended that to be very cute.
There had been some sounds from downstairs for a few minutes, but I hadn’t heard anything for a while, so I figured Mildred and her husband had gone to church. She’d told me the night before that they went every Sunday, and I was invited to go. I told her I’d think about it. If I was up, I’d go.
I hadn’t been up, and I didn’t really want to get up, but something inside me was too restless to stay in bed all day. I sighed and threw back the covers, getting up and grabbing my old flannel robe. I opened the bedroom door a little cautiously, in case I had mis-heard and they were still in the house, but there was no sound. I went quickly down the stairs, almost feeling as if I was doing something wrong. You know that feeling, a delicious sense of excitement that you’re crawling out your bedroom window and your parents don’t know? It was silly, since this was my house. I smiled at myself and glanced into the kitchen, seeing no one was in there either. I spotted a note on the counter and went over to read it. It was a short one from Mildred telling me they had gone to church and would be back in a couple of hours. That was fine with me...
I latched the deadbolt on the front door - I was in no mood for any surprise visits today. I decided it was time for a little exploring. I never did get a tour, I’m not sure why. So, it was time to explore on my own. My three month time limits was seeming very short now, and I figured there should be some kind of hint in this house as to what kind of mystery I was looking for. It seemed reasonable that there should be a library somewhere, so I decided to look for a den or office or somewhere my uncle might have kept his books.
I started with the main floor, and the rooms off the front parlor. It was interesting how the main floor didn’t really have a hallway. All the rooms sort of just branched off each other. The second floor had a main hall, so it was odd the main floor didn’t. I went through the parlor to the next room, which seemed to be some kind of sitting room. Behind that was what appeared to be the den, and I was thrilled. It was very male oriented - heavy wood furniture, dark colors, leather chairs.
I started with the books around the desk, on the desk and then decided I had every right to go through the desk drawers. The desk was nothing like the vintage roll top in my room. It was large and flat topped, polished mahogany. The chair was large and cushy, covered with black leather. The whole thing creaked when I sat down, and it was slightly chilly, even though it was warm.
The drawers had apparently not been touched since my uncles death. It surprised me as I went through them and found them somewhat full of papers that I would have thought needed to be filed away. There were utility bills, paper delivery bills, magazine bills, car insurance, I sorted through it, frowning that they should still be left here, several days after the man had died. Then suddenly I caught sight of the address for the bills, and realized they weren’t for this house. They were for a house in - Ephraim? Where in the heck was Ephraim, and why were we getting bills for it?
I decided Mildred needed to explain them to me, and put them in a pile to show her when she came back. The next drawer (the center one) had all sorts of pencils, pens, and all that other stuff one puts in the miscellaneous desk drawer. In the back, however, I pulled out an enveloped marked ‘Claude’ in large bold writing. I touched the writing, realizing that it was my uncles hand. Why couldn’t I have known him? It made me very sad, and I put the envelope next to Mildred’s, figuring I could give it to my lawyer and have it delivered to him. That would something else for him to stew over, no doubt.
The next drawer on the side was a filing drawer, and it had several different titles like bills, doctors, etc. It also had a file labeled employees, and insurance. Just behind those, was one with my name! My breath caught in my throat as I saw that tab, wondering what in the world that could mean. Why would he have my name?
I pulled the file out, seeing it was rather thin. I opened it up to see an old newspaper clipping of the obits the day my mother’s was printed. It felt like a stab in the heart. I felt numb and sat back in the chair, staring at the piece of newsprint.
Mom! I touched the picture that had been included longingly, remembering her face as it had looked in the picture. She had been young and full of joy, her eyes sparkling and her face happy. I never did understand why she wasn’t married, what had happened to my father, none of that. It had always been just mom and me. Now it occurred to me to wonder why. Where was my father? Who was my father?
I shakily put the paper back in the folder, face down so I could look at the other things. There was another paper with the births listed for that day, Peterson, baby girl, 6 lb 4 oz, 2 a.m. Mercy Hospital. It felt strange to see that too, and I took a deep breath, willing myself to relax. It was just odd that he should have these things!
I put that paper on top of the one of my mother, and looked at what was left. A graduation program from my graduation from high school...hard as that had been when mom had taken ill that same year. I ran my fingers over the raised print, remembering the ceremonies, and how my mom had made it even though it had put her down for the next week. She knew it had meant a great deal to me to have her there.
Under that was a transcript of my grades from high school, and I felt a spurt of anger that he should have these things. If he had known this stuff, why hadn’t he contacted us? This didn’t make any sense. I put that item down and there was one thing left, and I felt suddenly like I didn’t want to touch it. I didn’t know what it might mean, but it seemed ominous, and it raised a panic in me to see it there.
I finally made myself, turning it over to see that it was the copy of a birth certificate. I sucked in my breath as I looked over it and finally realized whose. The air I’d sucked in was whooshed out, startled by my find. My mother’s. Only, her father was not the man she’d told me, it was the man everyone said was my uncle!!
My breath caught in my throat and I felt my eyes go wide. This man was my grandfather? How could that be? There listed as mother of child, was Livina Bergstrom. So that was the woman in the photographs name. Livie. It certainly didn’t look like the woman in the photo to me, but who knew. So, this woman was my grandmother. More importantly, this man was my grandfather! Not my uncle! I wondered if Mr. Barkenstein even knew, and gazed down at the paper as if it would hold more information than I was willing to see. I sighed finally, seeing nothing out of the ordinary rather than the usual hospital and time and weight and size.
I put the certificate back in the file and closed it. I was taking this upstairs to my room. I needed to think about it some more. This was strange, and I was beginning to wonder what kind of family mystery lay behind me being related to this man. Is this what he wanted me to find out? Is it that simple?
I looked at the folder for another moment, and then turned back to the file drawer. There had to be more information. Unfortunately, nothing else came to light, the rest was tax and accountant information. The next drawer down had some personal papers, and what looked like a leather bound journal. Aha! I felt like I had really struck pay dirt this time.
I gathered the journal and the papers I wanted to take upstairs, along with the bills I was going to leave in the kitchen. I felt like I had wandered into someone’s soap opera, and I didn’t know who all the characters were.
I dropped off the bills, grabbed a banana and a bagel, and then went upstairs to peruse the journal. Who knew what his deepest thoughts were? This could be really interesting. And I hadn’t even gotten to the other rooms yet!
I settled onto my bed, leaving the file on my desk. I didn’t need to look at that again right now. There was a bitter enough ache in my heart as it was. This man was my grandfather! All my life I had longed for such a person and my mom had told me they had died when I was little. I had felt such a loss, as all my other friends seemed to have a grandma or grandpa - some had both. I had been so jealous of them and their stories of baking cookies and such a life. But that was not meant to be for me, and I had survived. Now I could find out why.
The journal started out January 1, 1934. I touched the pages with reverence, thinking about how old they were - about 70 years old! I leaned back against the head board and began delving into the world of the past.
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| Chapter 4 |
| 11.16.04 (2:17 pm) [edit] |
The next couple of days were kind of a blur as I got my van unloaded into storage, acquainted myself with the city and got my checking account set up with the bank - I’ve never seen so many zeros in my life! - fell into a routine with Mildred.
There seemed to be an uneasiness in the house, but I attributed that to Claude and his tendency to drop in whenever he pleased, still without knocking. It gave me great desire to spend as little time in the house as possible, however much I longed to be there!
The first night when I’d gone down to dinner, Hodges had been there and I was surprised to discover they ate at the house instead of their little cottage. He hadn’t been any friendlier then either, but at least we had gotten through the wonderful meal of chicken and mashed potatoes without him storming off.
I felt like we were living a sort of non-verbal truce. I wouldn’t bother him if he didn’t bother me. Unfortunately, I think Mildred felt caught in the middle of it. I didn’t know how to make it any better. I was new to this whole relationship thing as it was - these were more people that I’d interacted with for years.
I had found the city library in my wanderings, and it was a true delight. They had just finished a remodeling or rebuilding project, and it was the coolest building I’d ever seen. Now I spent at least a couple of hours a day there, soaking up the silence and reading whatever my heart desired. After my second visit there though, I discovered I was interested in whatever I could find about my uncle. I started looking up newspaper articles and books related to his family. The librarian told me about a building where they had genealogy records, and suggested I might find more information there.
I also met another couple of neighbors. One set was a young couple who were deep into professional careers, and were hardly ever home. They came over at about 9 pm, and wished me well, saying they’d heard I’d moved in and wanted to introduce themselves. They were Sandra and Michael Barker, and while they seemed nice enough, I knew we weren’t going to be seeing much of each other.
The other neighbor was a single man by the name of Brad Cooperton. I had chanced upon him my third day home as I was taking a walk around the block, admiring the houses. I wasn’t really noticing when he stepped out of his house - he lived in the one that was being remodeled, and was putting a bunch of trash in the dumpster as I was walking by.
“Hey,” he called, raising a gloved hand at me. “You must be our new neighbor.”
“That would be me,” I said somewhat surprised. Had everyone heard I was here?
He grinned, and I was taken by how good looking he was. His face was strong and tanned, as well as the rest of him - dressed in tight levis and white t-shirt that fit snugly around his muscular arms. “Glad to meet ya!” He jumped down off his porch to come toward me, removing his gloves. “I talked to my next door neighbors last night and they said they’d finally met you, and were thrilled someone was moving into that house. My name is Brad - Brad Cooperton.”
I shook his hand, feeling a little overwhelmed. He must mean the young couple, ‘cause the only other people I’d met were the older couple across the street. “Y-you mean the Barkers?” I stammered out, pulling my hand from his very warm strong one.
“Yep, that’s them. I was impressed you got them out of the house after work - they must have been really curious.”
I giggled, surprised at his words. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged, flapping his gloves together against his other hand. “They’re both professional people, and get home from work late. They hardly ever venture out of their house after they get home, they’re usually bushed. I’ve only usually seen them on Sundays, once and a while on Saturday, but I’ve only been here a couple of months. Maybe they get out more when it’s cold.”
His statement made me laugh, thinking that most people avoid the cold worse than the heat. “Okay - Brad,” I said, shaking my head. “You’ve taken on quite a challenge here, I see.” I turned toward his home which was more of a bungalow style than the rest of the street. Where most of the other houses were Victorian, his had apparently been built later, and was squeezed between two larger yards.
He turned and gazed at his home, giving me a wry smile. “That’s true. I inherited this house from my Grandparents. They decided since I was the only one still single maybe giving me the house would be a big enough hint it was time to get married.”
I laughed again, quickly covering my mouth. I liked how he could make me laugh at almost everything - I hadn’t been around someone like that for a long time. He shrugged and folded his arms. “That’s okay - it’s true. I’m the only one of my family not married, and with no prospects. I figure by the time I’m done remodeling, maybe I’ll have met someone. Are you married?”
I stared at him for a moment, shocked by the blunt question. “N- no. Still single.”
“Good.” He grinned widely and it made me chuckle as I shook my head.
“You’re thinking it’s a good thing, huh?” I teased him, easily reading the look on his face.
“Hey, I’m not gonna fight the Lord when he hands me a gift.” He admonished, stepping back just a little, his hands going up in front of him.
“The Lord?” His words took me by surprise. He was a religious man?
His smile slipped a little, but he nodded, his eyes warm. “Yeah, the Lord. Do you have a problem with deity?”
I shrugged lightly, shaking my head. “No, I just haven’t had a lot of contact with it, or men who refer to it.”
He reached out and touched my shoulder quickly - softly, then was putting his gloves back on. “Well...guess I’d better get back to work. If I don’t get a certain amount of hours in each day, it will take me forever, and I don’t think I want to wait that long.”
I gasped and giggled a little hysterically at the same time. He didn’t want to wait that long? I was almost afraid of what he was saying with that. I watched him go back into his house and made myself continue walking. This was becoming the most excitement I had ever had in my life, and I wasn’t sure I was up to it. I knew I wasn’t sure about Brad Cooperton.
When I got back to the house I asked Mildred about him. She was in the middle of making rolls for dinner, and she just grinned at me.
“So, you’ve met the local bachelor then?”
I rolled my eyes and perched on a stool, deciding I wasn’t going anywhere until she told me all I wanted to know. “Mildred! When did you meet him?”
She shrugged and continued rolling out the dough before getting out a pizza cutter to cut it into 12 triangle wedges. “I met him soon after he moved in here. Apparently he went around to every house in the neighborhood and told them he was going to be doing some work on his house and was liable to be making some noise. He asked everyone if that was going to be a pain, and told them he wouldn’t work past 9:30 and not before 8 a.m.”
I smiled and grabbed an apple from the bowl Mildred always kept on the counter. “That was very considerate of him.”
She nodded. “Yep. I was impressed. Hodges didn’t get to meet him, but I told him about it. He said he’s seen quite a bit of stuff come out of that house, and he thinks he’s gutting the whole insides of it. Did you get to see any?”
I shook my head as I chewed the bite I’d taken. “No, he came out with a load and happened to see me. He was flirting with me!” I rolled my eyes and took another bite as Mildred chuckled.
“Well, he is single! Did you expect him to be blind?”
I about choked on my apple. “Blind?”
She shook her head at me. “You silly girl! You. Of course he’d come introduce himself and see if you’re free. He knows beauty when he sees it.”
I felt a trembling start in my stomach and work it’s way up. “You are the one being silly,” I informed her tightly. “He only just met me.”
Mildred raised her eyes and gave me a slight frown. “Doesn’t mean it can’t lead to something. Why are you being no negative? Surely you don’t think you’re ugly or not worth looking at?”
I sighed, totally uncomfortable with the conversation. I hadn’t expected her to react this way. I don’t know what I was thinking, but was she trying to play match-maker now? I finished my apple, remaining silent as she finished rolling up the little triangles into crescents.
The whole idea that this man could want to be interested in me made me nervous. To be honest, I’d been on two whole dates, and they had been disasters. I figured dating was highly overrated, and I didn’t think I’d ever have much of it. Now Mildred is telling me I’m pretty - well, not ugly. I folded my arms on the counter and rested my chin on them, watching as she worked.
Didn’t thinking that way tend to color any type of greeting or friendship you formed? I thought it would. I don’t know how other girls handled it, but I knew I wasn’t going to handle it well. This guy was busy. He wasn’t going to have a lot of free time talking to me or taking me out on dates.
“He’s religious,” I said suddenly as the memory popped in my head.
Mildred started slightly, our companionable silence have lulled her in her work. “Oh. Religious? You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”
“Well, no,” I mused, pondering what I felt about it. “I’m not, or I guess I should say I haven’t been. I don’t know how to respond to that. He said something about the Lord giving him a gift.”
She chuckled. “That does sound like him, now that I think about it. I’ve seen him at church. He’s in the Elders Quorum.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. Elders quorum? “What church is that?”
She looked at me in surprise as she laid a towel over the rolls to rise. “You don’t know?”
I shook my head and she stared at me for a moment before wiping her hands on her apron. She shook her head slowly, a smiled hovering on her lips.
“I really find that interesting. Um - Olivia - we - I mean Hodges an I - belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It’s a church that your uncle belonged to, that runs the Deseret Industries you went to. Betty and her husband across the street are also members, as is Brad.” She licked her lips as she took off her apron and hung it by the fridge on its hook. “I can’t believe you didn’t know. Have you even heard of the church before?”
I shook my head, intrigued. All these people were members of the same church and I’d never heard of it? The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. “That’s quite a mouthful, isn’t it.”
Mildred laughed, coming to sit on a stool by me. This was becoming part of our daily routine, chatting in the kitchen around the counter during the afternoon. I enjoyed it immensely. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s in California, but if you’re not looking for it, there’s a chance you wouldn’t see it. Your mother wasn’t a member, so there’s no reason you should be. Your uncles family was though. That’s the pioneer heritage I was talking about the first day you were here. Pioneer Day and stuff.” She smiled at me and rested her arms on the counter. “Funny it hasn’t come up before now. You haven’t minded the blessing of the meals.”
“I hadn’t really given it any thought. I figured lots of people prayed over their food.” Now that she mentioned it, I remembered the first day I’d come, and lunch with her and Hodges. It had been strained because of Hodges and me, but, he had said the prayer, and his voice had been full of reverence and faith. It had impressed me at the time, however briefly.
“My husband even went on a mission - just before the war started.” I looked at her expectantly, and she chuckled. “You have no idea what a mission is.”
I sat back on my stool. “I do too! They have missions in California!”
Mildred shook her head. “Not like this. Those missions are actually Catholic churches that are run by the priest, right? The kind of mission I’m talking about, is taking two years out of your life to go wherever the Lord may call you to serve the people and preach his gospel. You don’t work, you support yourself - or your family does - and in lots of cases, you learn another language.”
I stared at her, my mouth hanging open. “What? You go off for two years and don’t work? How in the world do you eat and sleep?” The idea astounded me, people being willing to do that.
She laughed at the expression on my face, which hurt my feelings a tiny bit, but she patted my hand. “Olivia! This really astonishes me. Have you ever read the bible?”
I shrugged. “Not really. I mean, I know some of the stories out of it, but my mother never read it, I don’t think I’ve ever really seen one.”
Mildred sighed and her expression became serious. She took one of my hands and held it tightly, looking at me with such intensity it was almost frightening. “I’m not sure what it is you are asking me, if you just want to know outward things, but, Olivia - we are here only because the Lord has put us here. We are told in the Bible that he created us. We aren’t just born from evolution, we were created. Do you know that?”
I looked at her for a moment, searching my own feelings, a little nervous at her intensity. We were getting deeper than I’d meant to, but her question grabbed me. What did I know? Did I know that? Somehow I did, down inside. I had never given it much thought, but I had never been thrilled with the idea that we had evolved from apes. I had a tight feeling in my chest and my breath felt caught in my throat as I gazed at her, taking in the brightness of her eyes and the kindness of her smile.
“I- yes. I do.”
The smile grew larger, and her grip warmer. “Wonderful. Now, do you believe there was a person named Jesus Christ that walked on the earth?”
I almost felt like a child, the questions she was asking me. Did I believe in Jesus Christ? I wasn’t sure. Every body says they do, and I guess I just took his history as fact. But did I know? How do you know? I’d never really given it much thought. Once in a while during my mother’s illness I had cried out in prayer to God, hoping he would hear me, wanting him to be there. I’d felt that there was some assurance, but that was all there was. I had no knowledge.
“I can see that this is something you’ve not considered before, even though you have heard of him.” Mildred spoke softly, interrupting my train of thought. “But, the reason I come to that and bring it up - all of it - is that in the New Testament of the Bible, it talks about going forth without purse or script. Do you know what that means?”
I shook my head, thinking I should know - why don’t I know?
Mildred continued. “It means that you go without money, and without thought for where your meals come from or where you’re gonna sleep. Now in today’s world, that is not expected. Missionaries save from the time they know about Jesus to be able to go on a mission. Every young man that is worth is called when they are 19 and they serve for two years. They live in apartments, they buy their food, and pay their bills, all on the savings. Sometimes they don’t have savings, and their families support them. Sometimes, as in Hodges case - the ward or members support them because they don’t have any money.”
“Wow.” I sat back, pulling my hand away, amazed at what she had told me. I’d had no idea. It was like a whole new world had opened up in front of me, a whole new realm of ideas and concepts that hadn’t been realized before. “What an amazing thing. And they go for two years...what about college? 19 is when most kids are in school.”
She nodded. “Yep - most of them get a little time in classes before they go. But, most colleges will let you come back. The schools in Utah generally recognize missionary work and hold scholarships too.”
“That is the most fantastic thing...” I muttered, thinking about that concept. Going somewhere you’ve never been, to teach people about Jesus. “Kind of like the Peace Corps, huh?”
Mildred laughed softly, shaking her head. “Well, I guess that’s one way to categorize it. Only the Peace Corp doesn’t generally preach religion - especially our religion.” She tilted her head to one side, looking at me in some astonishment. “You really have never heard of the Utah Mormons and their funny religion?”
“Mormon!” I exclaimed, slapping my hands to the counter in excitement. “That’s the name I’ve been trying to remember! I know that word! I do remember hearing something about it in school...something about the pioneers and stuff. But recently, there was something in the news about the Mormons...”
She grinned at my response. “Well now, that’s a little better.”
I sat grinning back at her, glad to have finally recognized the word I’d been looking for back in that diner. The Mormons. Another thought clicked into place, and my gaze turned horrified. They had plural wives!
“Do you guys still have more than one wife?” I cried, dismayed at that prospect and its meaning in terms of Brad Cooperton. Did lots of women vie for his attention, hoping to be wife number 1 and number 2? What about three, four or five?
Mildred laughed at the expression on my face, putting her hands up. “Oh no, Olivia!! No! That was discontinued over 100 years ago.”
“Oh good!” I relaxed on my stool, my thoughts still whirling with all I’d heard. Jesus Christ. Created by a God.
I felt a touch on my hand and looked up at Mildred as she leaned forward, her gaze earnest. “I don’t want to push anything, so I’m going to stop now. But, I just want you to think about the things I’ve told you, and if you have any more questions, I’d be happy to answer them. We have missionaries here too, and we can invite them over.”
“You have missionaries in Utah?” The thought surprised me, thinking they would all go out of state. “I thought you were all over the state.”
She chuckled and shook her head. “Oh heavens no. We are probably less than 50% of the whole population now. There is much work to be done here. Just let me know if you have any more questions.”
She slipped down off her stool and went out of the kitchen into the back, and I watched her go, feeling somewhat chaotic inside. I’d never given religion much thought, always feeling like my life was too hard - too difficult, and my mother had never taught me anything. The only stories I knew were from a child, that I’d learned from friends around Christmas time, or Easter. I vaguely knew Easter was supposed to be about the death of Christ, but I’d only known it as a day of getting candy and perhaps some trinket from my mother. We never went to church. Now that I thought about it, it struck me as odd. Why didn’t we ever go? It wouldn’t have mattered to me as a child where we went, but it would have been a good thing. I could have used a God to be with me during my mother’s death. I know I had felt some comfort during my pleas, but I still didn’t know.
I got down from my stool and slowly went upstairs, pondering what Mildred had told me. I’d heard of various religions during my life. There are lots in the world, and California has their share. The ones I’d heard the most of were Catholic and Baptist, but it had never occurred to me to join one of them. Join one? Sounds like a club.
I chuckled at that thought as I opened the door to my room, the chuckled turning to a gasp as I saw my cousin standing in the middle, leaning against the solid oak of one of the bed posts.
“What are you doing in my room?”
“Ahh, cousin,” he smiled supposedly charmingly at me, his expression perfectly bland on his round face. His voice dripped with warmth and sweetness - I wanted to heave. “How are you? I was just noticing this room. It’s quite full of antiques, isn’t it?”
I folded my shaking arms across my chest and glared at him. This had to stop! “Look, Claude, I told you not to come in my house without permission, remember? You have no business in my room!”
His open expression turned a little sour at my angry voice. “Yes, I remember you babbling on about something like that, but I chose not to pay attention. After all, I believe we cleared up the fact that it’s actually my house, didn’t we?”
I was so angry at the effrontery of his words, I wasn’t even sure how to respond. Who did he think he was? “Even if you think you can come into this house un-invited, that doesn’t give you any right in my room,” I asserted, trying to calm my breathing. I felt flushed and a little panicky. This was not a situation I even vaguely knew how to handle.
He inclined his head a little, as if to say he could concede that. “You could have a point there,” he agreed, slowly walking around the room, gazing at the items that decorated it. “But these are all valuable antiques that you are using. I’m very concerned about them and their care.”
“Sure you are. Just like your concerned about trying to get this house and when you can move in.” I walked over to the bed and smoothed the lace edging on the coverlet. I felt that I was beginning to loose ground on this point. Somehow I had to keep him out of the house, especially out of my room. If he thought he come marching in when he felt like it, I was going to feel -
“Come now,” his voice was silky smooth again, realizing he was winning a round of our battle of wills. “I’m not harming any of your things. It’s such a lovely room.”
Suddenly there was a sound at the door and I looked over to see Mildred standing there, disapproval plain on her face. “Mr. VanMartin,” she said sharply. “What a surprise. Is your wife with you?”
At the mention of his wife, his cheerful exterior melted, and he was suddenly flushed and angry. “No, she is not. Not that it’s any of your business! Excuse me.” He strode out past Mildred, and I stood staring at her, so very thankful she had come.
“Oh, Mildred! I’m so glad you came up!” I went and sank down on the chair by the desk. “I can’t believe he was in my room!”
She held up her hand and went out into the hallway, coming back a moment later. “He’s left. He didn’t expect me to come up here - he thought he had you cornered, that nasty boy.”
I stared at her in shock. “What do you mean by that? I’m just angry he dared to come in my room, let alone the house when I’d told him not to. What am I going to do about him?”
She sighed and came over to pat me lightly on the shoulder. “I really don’t know, Olivia. You might have to seek some legal council and see if there’s a way to keep him out while you are here.” She looked back at the door and then down at me. “I have to tell you, though, he is not happily married, and I wouldn’t put it past him to try and seduce you to get the house before the three months were up.”
I gaped at her, totally surprised at the thought. “Me? Why would he try and seduce me? He could have me cowering in fear in less than 10 minutes, the anger that comes into his face. Besides, he’s married? That’s something I didn’t know.”
Mildred nodded, stepping back to look at the room, as if to assure herself he hadn’t taken anything. “Yes, he’s been married 10 years now, though how that woman has put up with him I don’t know. Not that she’s any prize herself, but she has her own money. She should just take the kids and go back home for a while. That would sure put a kink in his hat, if you know what I’m saying.” She sighed and put her hands on her hips. “I wouldn’t put it past him to try and sneak some things out of here to pawn either, the way he’s been acting lately.”
I looked up at her, gasping in horror as I remembered what he’d said. “He did tell me this room was full of antiques. Do you think he’s going to try that?”
She shrugged, a troubled expression on her face. “I don’t know. It’s hard to say. I thought he was well off, but the way he’s acting about this house and his inheritance makes me think he might not be doing as well as I thought.”
I sighed, staring at the carpet. “Mildred, you know the part of the will that I’m supposed to solve some mystery within the three months don’t you?” She nodded, her face holding a wary expression. I stood up and paced a little as I tried to voice my thoughts. “How am I going to do that? Apparently Claude knows something, and he’ll never tell me. Are you aware of a mystery surrounding this house?”
She swallowed and looked away, almost as if she didn’t want to talk about it. In fact, she looked like she was going to head out of the room and I grabbed her arm. “Please, I have to know! I have no where else to go, and no one to help me.”
She made a face and then looked at me, her eyes full of sadness and doubt. “I’m not sure there is a mystery,” she admitted finally, her voice low. “I know Mr. Smythe always thought there was. He always talked about something his grandparents had hidden somewhere, and he’d never been able to find it.”
“That’s it!” I cried, excitement racing through me at the information. “That has to be it! But what could he have meant? You never heard any inkling?”
Mildred shook her head, still obviously uncomfortable with the question. “He never did enlighten me. It was something he talked with Mr. Olgovie about, but never anyone else.”
I stopped the feeling of happy excitement that had been spreading through me. “Mr. Olgovie? Who is that?”
“He’s the neighbor next door. He and Mr. Smythe were great buds, since back when they were children.”
“Oh, well, then maybe he would be easy to talk to. He would even know stuff about my uncle that you don’t know!”
Mildred raised an eyebrow at me, as if I was being cheeky. “I’ll see you later,” she said tartly, and went out of the room, closing the door behind her.
I chuckled at the expression that had been on her face, and went over to the window seat to gaze at my neighbors back yard. “Mr. Olgovie.” Interesting name, I wondered what nationality it was. Anyway, I needed to talk to him, and I really needed to contact the lawyers. It was time to put Claude in his place.
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| Chapter 3 |
| 11.11.04 (7:56 am) [edit] |
Chapter 3
“Miss Peterson?”
I looked up to see Mildred’s kind face peering at me through the doorway. “Yes?”
“There’s a woman at the door that would like to see you if you are free.”
I was surprised and dropped the clothes I’d been holding into the large garbage bag that I’d commandeered after lunch in the lovely kitchen. “I don’t know anyone...”
Mildred smiled. “Oh, it’s one of the neighbors. She just wants to welcome you to the neighborhood.”
I smiled, relieved that it was a friendly person. Lunch had been a quiet - almost dismal affair - with Hodges glowering over his plate of chicken salad and rolls. I’d felt distinctly put in my place, and wondered how to go about fixing the situation. Now, after spending the past hour putting the clothes away or into bags for donation I was surprised to have a visitor. I hadn’t expected anyone to know I was here.
“I’ll be right down,” I told Mildred and she closed the door. I surveyed the empty suitcases and the small pile of clothes on my bed yet to be hung up. I’d just put the last of the clothes I was getting rid of into the garbage bag, and now they were both ready to be hefted down to the car. I figured I might as well take one of them down with me rather than brave Hodges glares if I called him up.
As I bumped the bag down the stairs, I saw a small petite woman at the bottom dressed in white linen pants and a light peach top with floral embroidery around the neck and sleeves, holding a small plate in her hands. Her white hair was professionally coiffured on top of her head, and she turned to see me come down with a warm smile on her slightly lined slim face that had just a hint of color.
“Oh, there you are!” She said brightly, her eyes sparkling with delight. “I just couldn’t wait any longer before I came and introduced myself!”
I smiled as I hefted the garbage bag onto a chair sitting in the hallway and went forward to take her extended hand. “Hello. I’m excited to meet my new neighbors!”
She chuckled. “Probably not as excited as we are, let me assure you. I’m Betty Folsom. We live just across the street.” She inclined her head to the house I could see through the glass of the door.
“I’m Olivia Peterson. It’s a pleasure to meet you! Won’t you come sit down?”
She sighed and waved her hand. “Unfortunately I can’t right now, I thought I’d have all afternoon but I just got a call from my daughter telling me she needs my help.” She rolled her expressive grey/blue eyes, and I had to laugh. “I tell you, they never do leave!” She glanced over at Mildred who was standing in the doorway leading to the kitchen. “Do they, Mildred?”
She chuckled and walked toward us. “No, they don’t. What is the problem, Betty?”
She shrugged. “Probably nothing worth running over there, for sure, but she’s got a bunch of men helping her husband finish their remodeling, and she just gets no nervous with them all there and her child trying to play or sleep and she’s pregnant now with number two...” She shrugged. “What’s a mother to do?”
I grinned. “I wish I had a mother like you,” I told her honestly. “You’d better get going so she doesn’t worry even more.”
Betty grinned back at me and held out a small paper plate which had chocolate cookies piled on it. “Well, you’re probably right. Pregnant woman just can’t handle stress, can they? I baked these for you, I hope you like regular old chocolate chip!”
I nodded as I took the plate, touched by her kindness. “That was very sweet of you,” I told her, clutching my prize happily.
“Oh posh,” she said, waving her hand as she went toward the door. “I love to bake, and any reason is a good excuse for me! I’ll stop by again some other time this week so we can get to know each other better! Bye!”
She was gone and walking briskly down the walk before I could say another word, and I just stood and watched her go, feeling warmed and not so lonely as I had before lunch. I had neighbors!
“Mildred,” I said, turning to see her still standing in the doorway. “Where is the nearest Salvation Army store? I wanted to donate some things.”
She grinned. “I don’t know where any are, but I do know where a Deseret Industries is. They are just like the Salvation Army stores, and you can leave donations there as well. Would you like me to tell you how to get there?”
“Sure,” I said with a shrug. “I don’t really care who I give it to, I just want it out of my hair.”
She lead me to the kitchen where she pulled out a phone book that had the address in it. She told me how to get there from here, and I went back upstairs to pull down the other bag. As I got to the bottom, she was there with keys in hand.
“What are those for? The house?”
She chuckled. “No, Miss. They are to your car. Hodges pulled it out for you.”
“A car?” I was stunned. I hadn’t expected to have a car. The one I’d owned in California I’d sold because I didn’t want to tow it behind the truck, and I thought I could afford a new one when I got here. I didn’t get much for it because it was in need of repairs, but it had surprised me how quickly it had sold. “I didn’t know anything about a car!” Although as we spoke about it, something Mr. Barkenstein had said started to niggle a bit. He had said something about a Mercedes coming with the house...
Mildred saw the look on my face and grinned. “Have a good drive.”
I felt a little numb going out to the driveway with one of the bags, keys in hand, wondering where the car had been stored. There next to the U-Haul was a smart four door Mercedes, black leather seats and black paint with shinny chrome. I about dropped the keys, bag and purse in my shock. “I get to drive a Mercedes?” I was definitely Cinderella now!
I walked around to the trunk and stuffed the bag in and went back to get the second one. Mildred had disappeared and all the quiet as I grabbed the bag and headed out the door. What a day this was turning out to be! I not only meet a new neighbor, but I was the proud new owner of a fantastic car!
As I opened the drivers side door, I glanced up to see Hodges coming around the back of the house with a rake and hoe. He raised an eyebrow at me and then abruptly turned and went into the garage, as if to pretend he hadn’t seen me. I didn’t care. The stuffy old man could be as cantankerous as he wanted, he wasn’t going to spoil my day!
They way Mildred had outlined the streets for me had made it easy to find the Deseret Industries store. It had surprised me how many locations had been in the phone book. I made a mental note to ask Mildred about them when I got back. It seemed to be part of some kind of organization, but I’d never heard of it before.
I stopped at the back of the store where they had a donations drive through, and popped the trunk open for them to get the bags. The two men that were working wore clean coveralls and gloves, smiled at me and thanked me for donating. I waved at them and then left, deciding it was time for a short drive to see if I could get better acquainted with my new hometown.
I ended up on 7th East, which seemed to be a main road, and was delighted when I spotted a shopping mall with a big water tower. I pulled in, and chuckled to see it was called Trolley Square. What a cute place! I went in and walked through the shops, loving most of them and staying out of a couple. There were several clothing stores, and I was unable to resist purchasing a couple of things at a store that specialized in India cotton. A couple of shirts, long flowing skirt and cropped pants later, I was walking out with large bag in hand, a smile as wide as the door. What a wonderful feeling to pay for things and not have to question if it would make me go hungry or not! Close to the clothing shop was a jewelry store sporting wonderful designs in cut glass and colored glass beads. I found a couple pares of earrings - one set had tiny unicorns on hind legs and the other was just dangley glass stones with copper wire. There was also a necklace I decided would go great with the shirts I had just purchased, and so by the time I made it out to my car, I was loaded with what I considered to be great wealth!
I opened the trunk and put my bags there before going around to the front. When I opened the drivers door, I was greeted by a blast of hot air, and I stepped back in dismay. Black, Mr. Smythe had to buy a black car! Oh well, I thought with a sigh as I gingerly eased onto the hot seat, at least it had air conditioning!
As I drove back to the house I pondered storage of my stuff. Apparently they (being Hodges) weren’t going to suggest I store my belongings at the house. Whether there wasn’t room or it just wasn’t part of the package, I didn’t care and figured it didn’t matter. I could afford to pay for storage for a couple of months while I decided what to do. I could always donate a lot of it too, as most was purchased from a thrift store. I tapped my fingers on the leather covered steering wheel, enjoying the feel of it. From out of the blue came the thought, this is a dream...it’s all going to fade when I wake up in the morning. I clenched my jaw, feeling a slight panic work it’s way through my mid section. I felt like the sides of the car were closing in on me and I glanced around at the windows, trying to catch my breath.
No! I wasn’t going to succumb. This was real, I had a new home and lots of money. I didn’t know where these thoughts were coming from or why, but I knew they were trying to discourage me, and it was frustrating.
I’d always considered myself to be a pretty level headed person. I was usually optimistic about things, I could usually find the bright side, even if it took some searching. My mother’s death had thrown me for a loop - but I had been able to set it to rights after a while, see a better picture and pull myself together. Now, since I’d heard of this situation and been given this gift, I’d had strange thoughts popping into my head. Discouraging thoughts that seem designed to depress me and make me panic. Get out of my head!
I turned on the radio to have some light jazz fill the air. That was better. I sighed and let the tension ease out of my gut, loosening my grip on the steering wheel. Things were going to be fine. I would get back to the house and hang up my new clothes. I could hardly wait to show Mildred, although I wasn’t sure how excited she was going to be for me. I really wished I knew someone my age...someone that I could pall around with me. I hadn’t had a close friend for some time and I really missed it now. Taking care of my mother had drained me of all energy to find friends and keep them. I was kept close to the house and out of things. After she died, I was too depressed and sorrow enveloped me like a cloak, pretty much driving any friendly soul away.
But all that was over now... I had a new home, a new future, and I owed it all to a man I hardly knew.
I pulled into the driveway and forgetting the bags in the trunk ran up the steps into the house. “Mildred?” I called, running into the kitchen.
Apparently I had startled her while she was mixing something, and she put a hand to her throat. “Yes, Miss Peterson?” Her voice was a little quavery and I stopped, trying to catch my breath, feeling a spurt of frustration at her words.
“Mildred, you’ve got to stop calling me Miss Peterson, it’s gonna drive me crazy. I’m Olivia! Do you think you can call me that?”
She licked her lips, a little surprised at my outburst, and I groaned inwardly. This was not going well - I hadn’t meant for it to come out like that. “Never mind. Look, I’ve got to know. Can you tell me anything about Mr. Smythe? Is there anything I can read about him? I just realized I know next to nothing about my uncle, and he’s left me all this. The least I can do is read about him!”
“Oh!” She blinked and put her hand down, a little color coming back into her face. “Why, yes, I could tell you some things about him. What is it you want to know?”
I walked over and perched on the stool closest to her, excited I might finally get some information. “What was he like? You said I’m in his daughter’s room, so he was married? When did his wife die?”
She smiled suddenly at me, her eyes sparkling again. “You are a bundle of questions, aren’t you?”
I sighed and played with the napkin that was sitting on the counter by a bowl of fruit. “I guess I am. I have so many questions, and so little information. I don’t mean to bombard you, but you are basically my only source of information.”
Mildred chuckled and reaching for a dish towel dried off her hands, heading toward the fridge. “I think it’s time for some nice cold herbal tea.”
I looked at her in surprise. Herbal tea? I’d heard of it, but had never had any. “Is it good?”
She clucked her tongue at me and got two glasses down out of the cupboard. “Is it good?” She repeated, turning around to look at me, her hands on her hips. “You’ve led a very sheltered life, haven’t you.”
As it seemed to be more a statement than a question, I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I have. I haven’t really had the time or money to do anything. I took care of my mother before she died, and that took all my energies. I’ve read about ice tea in books, but who can afford anything like that when you’re struggling for bread and peanut butter?”
Mildred shook her head, a little of the sparkle going out of her eyes. “It’s a shame, that’s all. At least we can introduce you to some of life’s pleasures while you’re here.” She turned and got the tea out of the fridge and placed it on the counter. Then she grabbed a large jar that was shaped like an apple. “We’ll have some of those cookies Betty made for you.”
I chuckled at the cookie jar. “That is darling. Where did you find it?”
She sighed as she brought the glasses over to where I sat and stepped up on the stool next to mine. “That is part of the story you’re wanting to hear.”
I settled a little more comfortably on the stool, realizing she was getting into a ‘storytelling’ mode. She filled our glasses, and I grabbed a cookie from the plate she had put them on, waiting for her to start her story.
“I started working for the Smythe’s just after Hodges and I were married,” she started, looking out the windows of the kitchen, as if remembering that day vividly. “I was a young bride, and we were on hard times. It was during World War II, and those who weren’t working in the factories or growing victory gardens, were struggling to find other employment. Hodges had never done well in the factory,” she shrugged. “I still don’t know why. But, he was very good at being a butler and a handyman, so Mr. Smythe hired him a year before we got married. When we got married, his wife thought it would be wonderful to have a housekeeper/cook/maid person to help around the house, as they had growing children that took much of her time. This neighborhood was much more active at that time, young families, bustling with activities and such.” She sighed and I took a sip of the tea, liking the interesting sweet taste as it rolled over my tongue.
She saw my sip and raised her eye brows. “Well?”
“I like it,” I replied with a grin. “Go on!”
“We were a young couple, deeply in love, and willing to work. I didn’t want to be away from Hodges, so I didn’t mind working for the family. The children were a joy, and we got along just fine. Mrs. Smythe was a little on the sickly side, and seemed she was in bed at least two days out of each week. During those times I pretty much ran the household, which took a bit of knowing. There were a few times I made mistakes, but they were easy on me, and I quickly learned. Hodges thought it was wonderful, and was proud of telling everyone where we worked. We had a room in the house then, but now we have that little cottage in the back. Have you seen it?”
I shook my head. “I still need a tour of everything, remember?”
She chuckled and shook her head. “I forgot for a minute - you haven’t even been here a day!” She straightened her shoulders and continued. “They had three children, two girls and a boy. The girls were lovely and full of life. They wanted to do everything and help everyone, and they discovered they had pioneer heritage.” She rolled her eyes. “You would have thought that heaven had come down and taken over the earth, they were so thrilled. The first year I was with them they were really into the Pioneer Day’s parade, and the girls insisted on being part of it, as they were descended from pioneer stock. Their mother found out there was an organization called the Daughter’s of the Utah Pioneers. She enrolled them, having showed their genealogy, and they were thrilled working up dresses and frills. Their father had them sit on horses he’d rented from somewhere, and they were as grand as anything, sitting on those horses. I think we still have pictures of them!” She gasped, looking at me with bright eyes. “I’ll have to get them out and show you!”
I grinned at her and shook my head. “Not now, I want to hear the story! We have lots of time!”
She nodded and took a sip of her tea before continuing. “The boy, was another matter. He was always into trouble. I remember Hodges coming to bed one night just beside himself because the little elf had gotten into the greenhouse and smashed all the potted bulbs he had been getting ready to plant. He was always breaking things, or chasing the animals, or teasing his sisters...” She shook her head, her eyes dark with distress. “I don’t know if it was because he was the youngest and forgotten after his sisters, or what had caused him to behave the way he did, but it didn’t take long for me to realize that his behavior is what set his mother’s sickness off. She was usually in bed after he’d done something that Mr. Smythe would have to discipline him for.” She shook her head again, smoothing the paper napkin by her glass. “That Mr. Smythe, he just didn’t know what to do with the boy. They finally decided to send him off to a distant relative so Mrs. Smythe could regain her health and be up for more than a couple of days at a time.”
She paused, and I watched her anxiously, waiting for the saga to continue. “And?” I prompted when she remained quiet, lost in her thoughts. She started and looked at me, her face having gone a little pale.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I got lost in the memories there for a moment.” She gave a soft sigh that told me the next part of the story was not good. “Things were good for a little while, perhaps about 6 to 8 months after he left. The Missus was healthy for most of the time, the girls were happy and busy as usual, and Mr. Smythe was making money as always. Then, they got a telegram from the relative, I think some kind of distant cousin to the missus... The boy had drowned himself playing on someone’s boat in a lake. He wasn’t supposed to be out there, and no one had known it. He was gone, and it broke Mrs. Smythe’s heart. They were shipping the body home, and it came the day after they had received news.” She fell silent again, and I felt a slight chill at her story.
I’d asked about Mr. Smythe, I hadn’t expected to hear the family history! I wasn’t sure I was up to hearing this or not, but I suddenly had to hear what had happened to Mrs. Smythe. “Mildred,” I asked, touching her arm softly. “What happened?”
She licked her lips and gave a slight shrug. “Mrs. Smythe went to bed and never got up. Mr. Smythe buried the boy and the girls wore black for almost a month. The house was like a morgue.” She shook her head. “Things finally started lightening up, the girls started wearing regular clothes, Mr. Smythe would start to smile a little, but Mrs. Smythe never did come down out of her room. She died about a year later, pining for her boy.”
I shook my head sadly at the news, picturing the lively family torn apart by such a tragedy. “So...what happened to the daughters?”
She gave me a weak grin, still caught up in those grim memories. “That is where the cookie jar comes in!” she said with a sigh, as if glad to be on a little happier subject. “The oldest daughter taught school for a while, and her father saw this cookie jar in a store window one day, and had to buy it. It became kind of the joke of the family, whether they were good or not, if there were cookies in it or not. It became my job to keep it full!" The twinkle in her eyes told me she didn't mind that job at all. “The daughters eventually got married. One of them was apparently your mother’s cousin, or something, I’m still not sure how you are related - he never did tell me. His daughters and their husbands moved away and I never saw them again. Both daughters died tragic deaths though...that’s why there is only one heir beside you. Claude is the grandson of Maureen, his second daughter. Her husband moved back here after she died giving birth to their only child - a boy. That child married at an older age, and had only one offspring - Claude. He owns a printing business which he took over for his father when he retired, and was fully expecting everything to come to him, I believe. His father died about five years ago.”
Talk about genealogy in a nutshell! My mind absorbed the information she told me and I nodded my head, thinking back to the meeting a couple of days before at the lawyers office. “Yeah, I’ve met Claude. He’s a real spoiled one. He was not happy that I’d gotten anything. He really wanted the money, even though apparently I’m only getting a drop of it.”
Mildred chuckled and picked up a cookie. “I for one, am very glad he did not get the house right off. He and I just don’t get along very well, and I’m sure he’d sack us within 24 hours of his arrival.”
“Are there any more cookies left?” The suave cold voice interrupted our cozy moment like a dash of ice water.
I turned in surprise to see the object of our discussion standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. It was such an casually arrogant stance that I was immediately offended and angry. How dare he walk into my home unannounced? Uninvited!
“Hello, Claude.” Mildred said, her face having gone a little pale at his surprise entry, and her lips drawing tight over the words. I was surprised how neutral and unemotional her voice could be. “I believe there might be a cookie left.” She got up to search the cookie jar, making it look like it was the very last one she was taking out.
I regarded my cousin with visible distaste and raised an eyebrow. “Well, well, speak of the devil. Was there something you wanted?”
His ‘friendly’ expression melted for a moment into one of anger before he schooled his face back into a semblance of warmth. “Ah, cousin. How are you doing? Settling into my home nicely are you?”
As he moved from the doorway and walked over to the counter to perch on one of the stools farthest from where we were seated, I found myself thinking of the Victorian Dandies. This man loved to dress, and loved to show off the fact he had the money to dress well. Perhaps he even had the good sense to dress in classic fashion - in his cream colored short sleeved linen shirt and pleated brown slacks and loafers, but I wasn’t going to give him too much credit. Perhaps he had a valet...
His remark on the way to his stool finally sunk in and I felt the small inclination to be cordial fade away. “Your house? I believe you’re under some misconception. It’s mine unless I decide to move.”
He chuckled as he took the cookie Mildred handed him as well as a small glass of Milk. I glanced at her as she seated her self again, thinking it very telling how she didn’t offer him any tea and it was a very small glass. She wasn’t encouraging a lengthy visit, was she? And perhaps she didn’t want him drinking her tea?
“Misconception.” His silkily even-tempered voice interrupted my observations with a jerk that had my heart pounding. “I like that word...shows some modicum of education.” He grinned at me, and I glanced away from the Cheshire like smile with its milk mustache, feeling very vulnerable at his causal entrance, ignoring the dig. “However, I believe you’re the one under the misconception. This is my home, despite your temporary residence. I will have it after the three months are up.”
I straightened my shoulders and glanced at Mildred who was deliberately avoiding looking anywhere close to that end of the counter. “Well, I guess that remains to be seen, doesn’t it? I may choose to stay here indefinitely.” I watched as his false good humor started to fade a little as anger tinged his skin a little pink. I was tired of this little verbal pleasantry, while I knew he just wanted me out of there. I wasn’t going to have him coming in here and claiming it was his home on my first day! I gritted my teeth and then managed to smile at him before I took a sip of tea. “Oh, and by the way, I didn’t hear the doorbell or someone knocking. Who let you in?”
The steel grey eyes bored into me, and I began to wonder what this soft looking rich man might be capable of. “This is my house, I don’t need to knock.” He placed his glass of milk down rather deliberately, as if afraid if he wasn’t careful he would shatter it.
I chuckled and picked up a cookie, examining it like it was a treasure map before taking a small bite. “Well, as long as I’m living here I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to knock or ring before you enter. Only polite, after all.” I waved the hand with the cookie in it as I said this, hoping to ease the tension just a little, and let Mildred know I was trying to be firm. It was all new to me - after all...
He stood up so abruptly his stool went flying backwards with a crash, and Mildred jumped next to me. “I will come and go in this house as I please, cousin, make no mistake.” His voice was still silky, but hard as stone underneath, the grey eyes cold as they glared at me in his round flushed face. I put a hand to my throat, wondering if he actually intended to hurt us - only to be extremely relieved when he turned without a word and stomped out of the room. I waited in breathless suspense for the sound that he was actually leaving the house, and both Mildred and I let out a soft sigh when we heard the front door slam.
“Oh my!” She put her hands to her pale cheeks, her eyes bright with unshed tears of fright. “I’ve never seen him like that! I’d better check the glass and see if it’s still in one piece!”
“I can’t believe the gall,” I muttered as she hurried off, amazed at my show of bravery while he was there. I’d never stood up to anyone quite like that before. How dare he come in and tell me it was his home? And without even knocking? Was he going to do this all the time? I had barely been here a couple of hours. Did he have a spy network set up to spy on me the whole time I was here?
Mildred came back slower than she’d gone, shaking her head. “Well, the glass is fine, thank heavens. Trying to replace that would be impossible. I can’t believe that boy!” She sat back down on the stool, her lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s a good thing his grandfather is not around! He would have thrown him out on his ear, I tell you.”
I sighed and slumped a little in my chair. “Mildred, I can’t believe he did that! Does he often come here and walk in unannounced?”
She gave me a half-hearted grin. “I’m afraid he does. He has done it rather frequently in the time since his grandfather died. ‘Checking up on his inheritance’ was what he was always saying as his excuse. I’ve taken to locking the door when I’m not on the main floor, and that didn’t please him too well either last time he was here. ‘Bout raised the police down on us - said he had every right to walk in when he wanted. I told him that was fine - where was his key if it was his place and all? He blustered something about having copies made and left. That was just before we got word you were coming.” She sighed and shook her head, suddenly looking every bit her age, tiredness etched into every line on her thin face. “I just wish Hodges would let the thing go. He seems to be on Claude’s side, and I feel like I’m caught in the middle. I don’t want to have to move out now, not when we have no where to go. Our children have all grown and moved out of state. They don’t have room for us, and we have no savings. Where would we go?” Her voice ended in a soft sob, and her head went down on her arms on the counter.
I stared at her for a moment in shock at her words, and then jumped down from my stood to put a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Mildred! Don’t go on like that! I’ve only just got here, things are bound to be a little up in the air! But you’ll see, it will be fine! Even if I do leave the house, sounds like Claude and Hodges get along, surely he won’t turn you out because he doesn’t get along with just you?”
She shook her head, her soft sobs easing a little. “I don’t know. I’m so very sorry, Miss Peterson, I-”
“Please,” I interrupted her quickly, I could feel myself wincing every time she called me that. “Please call me Olivia! I feel like I’m my mother when you call me that!”
“Oh, okay.” She sat up a little, and I went and got some tissues that were on the counter by the sink to hand them to her. “Thank you.” She wiped her nose and her eyes, and settled a little more onto her stool. “I’m so sorry for being such a silly fool.”
I shook my head and returned to my spot, sighing as I rested my elbows on the counter. “Stop apologizing. You’re not being foolish, you have legitimate worries and I’m glad you feel comfortable enough with me to express them.”
She sniffed and wiped at her nose again, her poor eyes red from her tears. She was such a sweetheart, I was upset with Claude for having come and upset her like this. How much can happen in one day?
Mildred glanced up at the clock above the sink and gasped, hopping off the stool. “Oh my! Look at the time! Hodges is gonna want dinner in just a little while, and here we’ve been gabbing and you’re gonna be hungry. I need to get dinner ready!”
I watched her with tired eyes, feeling like things were so chaotic in my thoughts and with what was going on, that I needed to sort it out. “I’m gonna be up in my room, give me a call when it’s ready,” I told her, slipping off the stool.
“Alright.”
I walked up the stairs, running my hand along the wood railing, pondering the afternoon I’d had. Had it only been a couple of hours? It felt like a lifetime already. I should have known Claude wouldn’t be able to stay away after he’d learned I had arrived. He probably wanted to try an intimidate me - hoping to make me move out.
I sighed as I pushed my bedroom door open, seeing the lovely furnishing and letting them relax me. I’m really going to like it here, I thought as I went over and laid down on my bed which still had some clothes stacked on the end. I closed my eyes and drifted off, feeling so very tired I just couldn’t keep my eyelids open. Just a quick nap before dinner...
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| Chapter 2 |
| 11.11.04 (7:45 am) [edit] |
Chapter 2
In two days I was packed and driving the small U-Haul across state. I’d decided to go the northern route, going through Reno to get there. It was exhilarating! I’d never traveled like this. I’d always been a home body or too poor to contemplate anything this adventurous. I shook my head as I turned on the radio and listened to the music blaring out of the small speakers. Pathetic was the tone of my life, but all that was changing now! My mother wouldn’t have recognized me, I mused as I glanced in the rearview mirror.
My normally lackluster hazel eyes were a sparkling green today, matching the green of my scooped neck t-shirt. My face seemed a little flushed, making the cheeks a little pink and my lips even redder than usual. My hair seemed to be caught up in the excitement, and I’d had a hard time containing it in a rubber band that morning. Even now little bits were escaping on the sides and curling around my face. My whole face seemed to shout “I’m excited!” I grinned, showing my even white teeth my mother had paid dearly for and focused on the road.
I was having an adventure! I, boring old Olivia Peterson, who had never been anywhere or done anything in all her 22 years of life, was doing something! I soon found that driving was driving - whether on the freeway in a traffic jam, or tooling down the road in a U-Haul on your way to an adventure - it was still boring after three hours of highway.
I pulled over about lunch time at a quaint little diner that advertized the best burgers this side of Rockies, figuring it was time for a break. Stepping down from the U-haul, I stretched my legs and then raised my arms over my head, feeling every muscle stretch deliciously. The weather had stayed hot, and I was wondering if I was going the right direction. I’d much have preferred the ocean to the desert any day, but I hoped Salt Lake was better than Nevada.
After my lunch of greasy burger and crispy fries, washed downwith a thick chocolate shake, I made a few laps around the parking lot to loosen up my legs before climbing back up into the truck. I had grabbed a bottle of water at the gas station next to the diner and a couple of candy bars. I figured it wasn’t going to get much more entertaining, and I might need something to keep me awake.
I was right. For the next 400 miles or so after I made it through the mountains and the gorgeous vistas in that area, I was greeted by dry desert lands with a clump of sage brush here and there. Reno wasn’t bad, although it was smaller than Vegas it was the same thing. I didn’t want to stay there and I wasn’t hungry yet. So I headed toward Wendover on the other side of the state. I figured that would be a good place to stop and sleep before heading into Salt Lake. As I drove, glad I’d brought along water, it sank in how dry this area was. Once in a while when I’d drive by a small town there was a couple of trees and signs of life, but otherwise it seemed a barren land that I was very glad to be driving through and not heading toward. When I reached Wendover, it was dusk, and the lights of the city were like a distant sun fighting against the night. I pulled over and got a room at one of the casinos. It was even smaller than Reno with pretensions toward big name casinos, but it was small town to me.
I shook my head as I registered at the main desk, noting there was no swimming pool. “No pool? How do you people cool off?” I asked the clerk who was helping me.
She shrugged. “The casinos are air conditioned.”
I rolled my eyes as I took my key and headed toward the elevators. I had no intention of staying in the casino. I wasn’t about to loose everything I’d just gained. The room was nice though, and I freshened up before heading down to the buffet dinner, thinking it was strange to be here by myself. No one went to Vegas by themselves...why would they go to Wendover? I sighed as I sat in my booth, as far away from the noise of the casino as I could.
The magnitude of the undertaking I had embarked on was beginning to sink in. Probably because I was alone - again. Usually I was able to drown out my depressing thoughts with TV or the stereo, or in some book. But tonight, sitting alone at a plastic table with plastic plants all around me and fake haired waitresses, I felt even more alone than I’d ever been. What was I doing? I hated change. I was always the one that clung to habit and routine. My co-workers said that was part of the reason I’d been let go. Let go. I wasn’t let go, I was fired - plain and simple.
Much as they wanted to be nice, nice - I ground my teeth together at the word, remembering the Cheshire grins of my co-workers as I had cleared out my cubicle - I wasn’t doing good enough. I wasn’t keeping up with the other workers, and the work wasn’t meeting quotas. Fired.
I played with the napkin at the side of my plate. My mother would have been bitterly disappointed in my reaction - I’d gone home to my apartment and dissolved in tears. After all the lectures she had given me about being self-sufficient and job worthy, I still wasn’t there. I still hadn’t been able to hang onto a stupid minimum wage telemarketing job. I didn’t have any real training, and they didn’t want to waste any more time on me. Just because it was the third job in as many years...
I took a deep breath and grabbed my water glass to take a quick gulp. I realized my hand was shaking and I quickly put the glass back down. I hated this feeling. I loved the idea that what I was doing was adventurous, but inside I knew it was downright cowardly and simple. I was scared to death. I didn’t have anywhere else to go, or anything else to do. No one who could help me. Before I’d met Mr. Barkenstein, I hadn’t had enough money to get the training I needed for a better job, and I couldn’t survive in an apartment in the area I’d been living in without a better than minimum wage job. I hadn’t been snowballing the lawyer when I’d told him this was a miracle. It truly was. Now, suddenly I was a millionaire. What was that going to entail? What kind of obligations was that going to force me into?
Feeling the signs of a panic attack, I took a couple of deep breaths and closed my eyes. I opened them to have them blinded by the flash of a camera held by a handsome young man in hotel uniform standing at my table. “Hey, a picture to remember Wendover!?”
I raised an eyebrow at him as I rubbed my eyes to get rid of the bright spots dancing in them. A picture? “I don’t think I’m interested, thank you.”
He smiled and shrugged. “If you change your mind, it will be developed and sitting at the front desk.” He went on to the next table and I looked down at my plate of shrimp tail ends and roll remains and shredded napkin.
It was time to leave. I needed to get some sleep and get out of here.
The next morning I reached Salt Lake at about 11 a.m. I hadn’t slept well, although the air conditioning had worked wonderfully. All the thoughts I’d had at dinner had kept rotating through my brain to the point where I had thought I would go crazy. I had finally managed to repeat some old nursery rhymes from my childhood, and I had been able to drift off into a fitful sleep. Breakfast had been a quick glass of juice and a bagel with cream cheese before heading out to the U-Haul. I was ready to get past this self-pitying stage. I was tired of being the same old nervous, shadow jumping, nitwit who was afraid of change. My mother would have been so sad at what I had become.
I sighed as I reached the Salt Lake International Airport exit, knowing that I was closer to the city, and closer to the end of my drive. I reached over and pulled out the map Mr. Barkenstien had given me with all the paperwork, and with one hand unfolded it so I could read the streets to where I needed to go. I wasn’t thrilled with driving a big truck in a downtown area, especially since I didn’t know the streets.
Fortunately, the directions had been simple, and Salt Lake wasn’t as hard to navigate around as I’d feared. I found myself on a lazy avenue with the houses set back to allow large lawns and huge trees lining each side. It was like something out of a postcard. If it had been snowing I would have thought I’d been transported to another age. Most of the houses were of the late Victorian era, and most appeared to have been recently remodeled or freshly painted. One was currently in the middle of it, from the looks of the big dumpster in the driveway.
My new home was on the north side of the street, and I pulled the U-Haul into the circular driveway with a bit of awe. A circular driveway? The lot was large like the others, perhaps just a little bit more so with the driveway curving round in front of the house. The house was stately, basically painted a creamy white touched with spots of color here and there with the curved arches and spindles on the eaves and deck railing. I got out of the U-Haul and slowly walked up the front steps, feeling totally out of my league, wondering if I was really up to this. Was I the type of person that could go from being struggling poor to millionaire over night?
I sighed to myself and noticed that the front door was a wide one with glass etched in flowers and deer groupings, the porch deck was spacious enough to allow a swing and a couple of lounge chairs with a small glass topped table. There were fresh cut flowers in a milky vase sitting on it, and it occurred to me that perhaps someone was living there already. Was I displacing someone from their home?
“Hello.” The soft voice greeted me from behind and I turned in surprise to see a smallish older woman, probably in her 60's standing in the doorway, a welcoming smile curving her thin lips. “You must be Miss Peterson.”
I was surprised she knew me, and wondered what was going on. “I am,” I said hesitantly, stepping back a little.
“Wonderful. You made excellent time.” She held out a slim arm with a small petite hand. “My name is Mildred, Mildred Hodges. I’m the housekeeper/cook. My husband and I live here and take care of the house, and Mr. Barkenstein said we were to stay on until you’d decided what you were going to do. Welcome to your new home.”
I gazed at the small woman with silvery hair pulled back in a tight bun from her oval lined face with wise blue eyes, dressed in a simple flowered house dress with apron tied over. I hadn’t expected this at all. I don’t know what I had been expecting, but this wasn’t it.
“A housekeeper?” I managed to say finally, reaching forward and shaking her hand which was warm and rather firm for what I took in as a frail old lady.
“Yes, and cook. Or do you prefer to cook for yourself?”
I shrugged, feeling slightly panicky - was I expected to? “I - I don’t really care. I,” I licked my lips which felt suddenly dry and stuffed my hands in my pants pockets to keep from showing any trembling. “I’m not especially picky about who’s cooking.”
She smiled at me, and gave a slight shake of her head. “You look a little startled, my dear. Didn’t Mr. Barkenstein tell you we were here?”
I shook my head and she tsk-tsked at the back of her throat. “Well, you just never mind and come on in. I’ve got a nice pitcher of Lemonade in the fridge and some fresh bread out of the oven. Would you like a slice with some honey butter?”
I followed her through the door as she chatted, beginning to feel a warmth in my heart at her welcome. She led me down the wooden floored hallway to a lovely kitchen full of modern appliances. “I would love some.” I finally managed to get out, stopping in the doorway and gazing at the warm and welcoming place which was the kitchen.
It had the feel of being remodeled, there seemed to be a wall or two missing. The cooking area was nice and full of space. The counters were a gray polished granite on top of white cabinets with routed edges and insets. There was a double oven and a large cook top set into the counter. The cupboards on the walls were glass fronted and showed dishes and glasses and bowls.
It was the air of calm, of refreshment. Mildred was also very at home in it. I watched her go to the fridge which was on the left of the stove and get the lemonade. On the counter which was a bar area banked with wooden white stools was a lump under a kitchen towel and the whole room smelled of freshly baked bread. It was enough to make your mouth water.
“Go ahead and sit down,” She admonished with a smile as she got down a couple of glasses. “Let me get the honey butter.”
Honey butter? I hadn’t afforded butter in a long time, and just the thought made me feel ready to swoon. “I don’t know if I can handle that kind of spoiling,” I couldn’t help teasing her, beginning to relax as I eased onto one of the stools that had a seat pad on it of blues and yellows with some green. “I haven’t had any one serve me for a long time.”
She raised an eyebrow at me as she put the lemonade and glasses on the counter. “Really? Well you could use some spoiling then.” She reached under the towel and grabbed the large loaf of bread that had been hidden under it. She sliced two rather thick slices and put them on plates before shifting around to grab a small crockery type bowl which she put down next to the bread. “Help yourself.”
I picked up the bread, feeling it still warm against my fingertips. I spread the honey butter on, the combined aromas being the best thing I’d smelled in a long time. “Oh this smells wonderful,” I murmured before taking a bite.
Mildred smiled at me as she reached for the crock and spread her own. “And taste?”
“Heaven!”
We ate in companionable silence as I absorbed the bread and the house and the woman sitting next to me. I was finally here, and I felt a sudden ache around my heart. Was I home?
“Well,” Mildred said brightly, slipping off her stool. “Let’s get your things up to your room so you can relax for a while and get to know your new home.”
I licked my suddenly dry lips, wondering if that meant she liked me, or was just being helpful, and I suddenly felt like I was being a child. She was my employee! What was I so worried about? I shook my head and followed her back out into the hallway where an older man was standing with his back to us, gazing out at the U-Haul with his hands on his hips.
“Well that’s a fine how-do-you-do,” he mumbled, just loud enough for us to hear. “Miss high-and-mighty arrives with her truck load of things...where are we supposed to store all of this, I’d like to know.”
“I don’t supposed you have room in the garage or something do you?” I ventured tentatively not sure who the man was and what his relationship in regard to me was.
He spun around, obviously startled we had heard him, his face a slight shade of pink. “Oh, Miss Peterson! I beg your pardon!” His face was carefully neutral and he abruptly bowed slightly in my direction. “How may we help you?”
“And you are?” I regarded him with a slight suspicion, realizing he wasn’t happy that I was here.
“I am sorry.” Although his tone of voice indicated he felt otherwise, and I felt dismay wash over me after Mildred’s warm welcome. “My name is Hodges, Ralph Hodges. I just go by Hodges if you don’t mind. I’m the Butler/handyman. Mrs. Hodges is my wife,” he added, nodding in Mildred’s direction.
I glanced at her a little surprised she hadn’t mentioned it, and noticed her hands were clasped tightly together in front of her, and she looked a little embarrassed or ashamed, I couldn’t decide which. “Well...how nice to meet you.” I said as I turned back to Hodges, taking in his balding gray head, beady eyes behind wire rimmed glasses and drawn out lined face. He was wearing a uniform of sorts - dark pants, blue shirt and dark jacket over with black shoes. He stood taller than both Mildred and I, and I felt a little intimidated by his stance and his attitude.
“I brought all my things since I had no where to leave them.” I decided to inform him, my voice coming out a little sharp, put off by his stance - which while he had lowered his hands from his hips, he still didn’t seem happy. “I have the U-Haul till tomorrow, so perhaps I can find a storage shed between then and now. I do need to get my suitcases. Take care of that, please.”
I turned, deciding that I had probably not handled that well, but feeling over whelmed and exhausted by the events of the past couple of days and the drive here. I wasn’t in the mood for a uppity old man who didn’t want me around in my own house! I stomped up the stairs and heard a muffled word before the lighter tread of Mildred followed me. I kept my nose in the air while trying to keep my eyes on the steps as I went up, determined not to let the man feel he could intimidate me. I was the one controlling his employment now. He’d better re-think his attitude.
I stopped at the top landing, realizing I had no idea which direction to go. I stepped aside so Mildred could pass me, and she glanced up at my face, hers a blend of resignation and trepidation - almost as if she was afraid of her husband and me. I felt instantly ashamed - threatening her husband was probably perceived as a threat to her, and that was uncalled for. I rubbed my eyes as I followed her, wondering how I’d managed to ruin a perfectly good day in less than an hour.
Mildred led me the second door on the left past the stairs. “This is the room we thought you would enjoy,” she said, her words soft as she opened the door.
I touched her shoulder lightly, and sighed. “Mildred, I am sorry. I’m afraid I’m not handling things very well.”
She stilled at my touch and then turned, her eyes bright with moisture. “No, I apologize, Miss Peterson! My husband has taken a turn of mind that I just don’t understand, and he was very rude. I feel that he might be coming down with something, and I’ll get him to the doctor. But, I do want to apologize!”
I shook my head, and slipped my arm around her shoulders for a quick hug. “It’s not necessary,” I insisted. “Now lets look at this room.”
I stepped in and felt like I’d stepped into another time. The room seemed rather large for just a bedroom, and I felt my breath catch in my throat at the large four poster with soft lace flowing from the ceiling, a dainty white vanity was to one side with a large oval mirror, and a large dresser stood at the other. In front of the large window was a window seat with fluffy cushions and flowered draperies that matched the comforter on the bed. The polished wood floor was covered with a oriental rug of thick quality, and the walls were painted a muted dusky rose.
“I do hope you’ll like it,” Mildred said quickly, walking further into the room. “It’s been closed up for quite a while, it belonged to Mr. Smythe’s oldest daughter before she married.” She walked over to a door close to the window, opening it wide enough for me to get a glimpse of a sink and mirror. “You have your own bathroom, so you won’t have to use the one in the hall if you don’t want to.”
I shook my head. This was far beyond anything I’d dreamed or hoped for. I had never lived in this type of setting, and I knew it was going to take a little getting used to. “This is amazing, Mildred,” I told her, still feeling a little breathless. “I never thought...”
She grinned, her round lined face lifting in relief. “I’m glad you like it. There is also a closet over here,” and she walked to the other side of the bed to a door in the wall there. She opened it and turned on the light, hinting at much space. Too much for my meager things.
As I came in the room, I found that behind the door was a roll-top desk with a padded chair and a darling Tiffany lamp, fringe and all. It was wonderful. I felt as if I had become Cinderella without needing a prince. I didn’t need a prince, I thought to myself with a smile, running a hand over the smooth polished wood of the roll-top, I had a fairy Godfather. It was almost too much to take in.
Suddenly there was a sound at the door, and we both turned to see Hodges struggling in with two suitcases. I only had three, so I didn’t understand why he felt the need to bring two at once, although perhaps he didn’t want to make any extra trips up the stairs. He plopped them down on the floor rather unceremoniously, glared at me and then looked at his wife with a raised eyebrow before turning to leave the room. I listened to him stomp down the stairs, and wondered with a sinking stomach if I had just made life difficult for Mildred.
She sighed heavily and turned to me, her expression full of sorrow. “I am sorry, Miss Peterson. I don’t know why he’s taken on so. I’ll go start some lunch.”
She hurried out of the room before I could say anything, feeling terrible at the way things had started in my new home.
My new home. I turned, feeling a quick spurt of happiness welling in my heart, over powering the gloom of a moment before. I turned around in my room, arms out like a little girl. My own home! I picked up one of the suitcases and put it on the bed, making it bounce a little with the weight. I opened it up, and regarded the contents with some dissatisfaction. I hadn’t been able to spend much on my clothes for the past couple of years - thrift shops had become my friend. However, even though those clothes had done me good, they were beginning to show the wear and tear of time. I sighed as I lifted out my favorite work outfit of a pale blue soft silky blouse with elbow sleeves and a dark blue calf length skirt. The blouse actually had a stain on it that had happened a day before being fired. I touched it lightly with dismay. I’d forgotten that stain, and it brought back flashes of memory from that day.
Karen had passed by my desk while I was on the phone with a customer, the fifth one that day that I’d made a sale to. My little light was on above the computer, indicating to all the other telemarketers that I’d made a sale. Karen’s mouth had immediately gone into a frown, and she sniffed before trouncing off, passing another girl and nodding her head toward me as she went. I had rolled my eyes, focusing on the customer and trying not to be frustrated with the attitudes. It was one of the reasons I’d suspected my co-workers of being jealous of me for some reason. They told me I didn’t keep up, but it always seemed I was the one with the sales, and the leader in my group. It didn’t make sense to me, and I never did figure out what was the bee in their bonnet, but it hadn’t mattered. I’d been fired, and there was no turning back now. I didn’t need that stupid dead-end job anyway, I reminded myself with a grim smile. I have money now!
I laid the outfit on the bed and pulled out the rest of the clothes, thinking it was time to sort through them and get rid of some of it. I had money now to buy new things, and I was going to make use of it. It occurred to me as I pulled the clothes out that I could have done this sorting before I’d packed, which would have made things much easier. I half grinned and tossed the clothes into the growing pile. Oh well...better late than never.
By the time Hodges made it upstairs with my other suitcase and a box labeled ‘bedroom’, I had dumped the contents of both suitcases and had two piles going. One was definitely larger than the other, and was threatening to slip off the edge of the bed - that was the discard pile. I’d been in such a hurry to pack everything before I left, that I’d even packed things I hadn’t worn in ages, and some of my mothers clothes that I hadn’t realized I’d kept! What had I been thinking?
I shook my head and turned to watch him plop the other suitcase down, placing the box on the chair by the door. “Was there anything else out of the van you wanted, Miss Peterson?” His voice was carefully neutral and unemotional which made me groan inwardly.
“Not at this point,” I told him firmly, wishing there had been another way to start our working relationship. “Thanks.”
He slightly nodded in my direction before silently going out the door. I went and closed it behind him, leaning against it in frustration. I didn’t know if I was going to live the rest of my life here, but I hated bad feelings and I wished there was a way to regroup with Hodges. I really liked his wife.
I picked up the other suitcase and tossed it on the spot I’d cleared from the other one, determined to get all of them taken care of before Mildred was finished with lunch. It was going to be strange getting used to someone else doing the cooking, but it was one chore I was sure I would not be sad to have someone else doing. I never had enjoyed cooking for myself, and never got a chance to cook for anyone else anymore.
I sighed and put the sweater back down that I had picked up. I hadn’t done much with anyone in the past year, and it was something that had started to haunt me. I was so alone. I was tired of being alone! I clenched my jaw and determinedly tossed the sweater in the discard pile, not caring if I really needed it or not. Couldn’t I get rid of the old if I wanted? I wasn’t planning on shopping at Saks 5th Avenue or anything like that, but surely I could afford Dillards or JC Penny now!
Feeling waves of self-pity flowing through me, I sat down on the edge of the bed, making the piles topple over. What was I doing here? What did I really hope to gain by all of this? I hadn’t known Uncle Smythe, and he hadn’t known me. Why would he want to give all of this to me? Could it possibly be some scam? I didn’t have anything to loose! I laid back against the soft comforter, gazing up at the lace canopy. I was a nobody, and I knew it. That’s what made this whole thing so hard to take in. I felt like an imposter, and that someone was going to discover that there had been a huge mistake and toss me out, giving all that money and this home to someone else - I groaned - namely Claude.
I closed my eyes, feeling the tears slide out from underneath. I had to get a grip! I wasn’t 12 years old. I wasn’t even 18 any more, with the terrors of losing my mother in a world where no one loved me. I was 22, and I could handle this! I sighed and wiped at the tears with the back of my hand. I was tired, frustrated and hungry. After lunch things would look brighter again.
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| Chapter 1 |
| 11.11.04 (6:35 am) [edit] |
Chapter 1
“What do you mean she has an inheritance?" demanded the tall but over weight man standing by the other side of the table from me. "Everything was supposed to go to me! I’m the only surviving relative!"
I sighed as the lawyer calmly observed him over the rims of his gold rimmed reading glasses. “Please remain seated, Mr. VanMartin. I think Miss Peterson would like to hear what I have to say.”
I wasn’t sure I did. I had no idea what I was doing here in the first place. A man who was supposedly a distant uncle had died, and I had been called here to listen to his will. I sat, listening to this thin and lined faced old man read the will, wondering what in the world any of this had to do with me. And then here was this stuffed shirt who was so upset his face was turning a dark shade of red. Apparently he’d been informed he was the only living heir. So where had I come from? Why was I involved?
The confusion adding to this whole situation was the fact that this man had just named me his heir! I sat back in my chair, not sure I was up to this. It had taken me a whole day to travel to the law offices and, having had to drive the whole way, I was exhausted. I eyed the man that was apparently my distant cousin as he clamped his mouth shut and sat down in the leather chair, his face now turning a slight shade of purple. It reminded me of the gum chewing girl in Charley and the Chocolate Factory, and I vaguely wondered if he was going to blow up like she did.
“As I was saying,” the lawyer, Mr. Barkenstein, where do people come up with these names anyway? continued, his dry voice interrupting my musings. “It states clearly that Miss Peterson is the true heir, and that you, Mr. VanMarten are to receive $200,000. If, however, Miss Peterson decides she does not want the house, then you are free to occupy it.” He looked up at both of us who were staring at him in shock. “I believe it’s rather plain. He had his will changed two months ago, and was very definite about it.”
“My inheritance? She gets all of it?” My ‘cousin’ had overcome his shock and was suddenly on his feet again, clearly incensed - pointing at me as if I were an insect.
“Mr. VanMartin, really,” Mr. Barkenstein remonstrated with visible patience. “It is very clear. Besides, you have a residence, do you not?”
The man, whose first name was Claude, what were his parents thinking? nodded, sitting down while sputtering something along the lines that he didn’t know what that had to do with it.
“Miss Peterson is therefore to move onto the estate and live there for a period of three months. At the end of that time, if she is unmarried,” he paused and consulted the will again, “Actually, I guess he wanted to make sure you are currently unmarried,” he stipulated, looking up at me with a twinkle of humor in his tired grey eyes.
I gave a weak grin. This was beginning to feel like something out of an English melodrama. “I’m currently unattached in any way.” I assured him, my mind reeling at the thought of a place to stay and millions. How could my uncle have known?
“Well then,” The old gentleman continued, folding over the papers. “He wants you to stay in the house in Salt Lake. He says there is a mystery there that he wants you to uncover. If you can do that within three months, then the whole estate is yours. If you cannot discover the mystery, then you must leave the home taking one million with you. Claude then gets the house and the rest of the money.”
I sat stunned at this bit of news. Suddenly I was a millionaire! I felt like the heavens had just opened and dumped on me. I don’t know why this man had decided I was the heir, I don’t know if mom had been his favorite niece or not. But I did know that having just lost a job and being threatened with eviction from my apartment, this was a definite miracle.
Claude stood up, a haughty look on his now less florid face. “Well, you will be hearing from my lawyer come Monday morning. I’m contesting this, this is ridiculous! What was he thinking?” He grabbed his suit jacket which he had flung over the back of his chair, and after pulling it on reached for his planner.
“You can feel free to do so, certainly,” Mr. Barkenstein agreed, his expression and tone of voice agreeable. “However I should point out to you that the time and expenditure of such proceedings would probably be very expensive.”
I chewed on my lip at that thought, wondering if I wanted to spend the time it would take fighting him on the will. But I needed it! I didn’t even have a job. Just because he’d thought he was getting everything, and I didn’t even know the man. I sighed as I watched Claude set his mouth in a firm line before he turned and strode out of the room, glaring at me as he passed - his eyes full of hatred. I hadn’t seen the last of him, I was sure.
I winced as he slammed the door, making the window vibrate and the glasses on the table in front of me dance. “I guess that didn’t go as well as you would have liked,” I commented to the elderly gentleman in front of me.
Mr. Barkenstein turned and smiled warmly at me. “My dear, I’ve witnessed much greater shows of temper than that. Mr. VanMartin really doesn’t worry me. And,” he pointed a slightly crooked finger at me. “He shouldn’t worry you either.”
I managed a wry grin as he resumed his seat. “Now then,” he said with a relieved sigh. “We can go over the details and get you on your way.”
I listened closely as he outlined greater specifics, such as the address of the home, and where the money was located. He was handing me the papers pertinent to the whole thing when the secretary came in with a fresh pitcher full of ice and lemonade.
“Thank you, Susan,” Mr. Barkenstein said with a warm smile. “That will be lovely. Will you get the phone number of the bank in Salt Lake that is handling the funds for Miss Peterson for me?”
“Yes sir!” She said smartly, and left the room as I leaned forward and poured myself a glass. I was so thirsty, and still reeling from the news.
“Mr. Barkenstein,” I said after drinking half the glass. “How in the world did this man know of me? I mean, I don’t even know him.”
He leaned back in his large leather chair and regarded me for a moment, his lined face filled with kindness. “Miss Peterson you may not have known your uncle, but he knew you. He’s kept track of you since your mother moved out to California. I have no idea why you held his interest, but there you are. He was thrilled to think he might be helping you in some way, and he seemed to think there was something you could do for him, although he never divulged that information to me.”
I shook my head and fingered the frosty glass in my hand. “I’m very overwhelmed.” I admitted, a sinking feeling inside causing me to clench the glass a little tightly. My mother - it always seemed to come back to my mother. “I just lost my job, and this - this is like a miracle.”
Mr. Barkenstein smiled at me. “Your uncle would have been so happy to hear that.” He looked up as the door opened and Susan re-entered, papers in hand. “Ah, Susan! You’ve got the information for us!”
Before I knew it, I was on the road traveling back to Lodi, and my apartment. I was given a week to take care of my affairs, and then I had to be at the house. I was also given a check - an advance large enough to take care of any needs I should have to get myself there - I was so relieved I felt dizzy. It couldn’t be happening. I had to be dreaming! I stopped and treated myself to a night in a hotel instead of trying to drive all the way back. I figured I could afford it now, as well as dinner, and I sat in a booth at the small diner by the hotel going over the papers I had been given before leaving the office.
The home was in Salt Lake City, Utah. I’d never been outside of California, and so that seemed intriguing to me. Although, I really had no idea what Utah was like, other than dry and full of religious people. What was the name? I couldn’t place it, something that started with a ‘M’. But anyway, I’d learned something about it during high school, which made me feel sorry for my poor teachers that had tried to cram things in my unlearned scull. I sighed and ran a finger over the papers, reading the words again.
I had a house! And I could keep it forever if I wanted. I wasn’t sure I was going to, I mean, who knew what this thing looked like. It could be old and run down and falling apart and the only reason he was giving it to me was to keep it from the hands of the demolition people! I grinned and took another fry from my plate. Yeah, sure. It was probably a huge mansion that was cold and full of relics and I would be anxious to get out of it. How would I possibly take care of something like that by myself?
I sat back and looked out the window at the darkness of the California night. It really didn’t matter. I had nowhere to go, and nothing else to do. I might as well see what waiting me in Utah.
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| Nanowrimo entries |
| 11.11.04 (6:34 am) [edit] |
I am signed up for the National Novel Writing Month, and I was going to be entering the story on another site, but there isn't room. So, I'm going to be putting it here. I hope I have lots of readers! enjoy. I will label them by chapter. I haven't named it yet...still working on that. A word of caution to those who don't want to read religious stuff - it does end up being religious in nature.
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| Greetings from wet and cold! |
| 10.25.04 (10:37 am) [edit] |
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Hey everyone! I realized I hadn't checked things out for a while, and decided I needed to pop in and say hi. Things have really changed in my neck of the woods,... No longer doing pizza, we had to close. It was the pits!!! We are back to trying to be a normal family with dinner at night and stuff...it's kind of fun. We are actually taking vacations! (sort of...living out of the van?) Anyway, and I'm trying to get my writing sold. (sigh) So, that's life in Utah. I tell you, it's COLD!!! Hope things are going great for everyone else. Looking forward to Thanksgiving?
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| Greetings everyone! |
| 06.01.04 (6:15 pm) [edit] |
Well, I feel like I've been a little disconnected...haven't done this in forever! But I was thinking about everyone today and figured I'd drop in. It's fun to see people were still reading my old blog... :D
Anyway, it's good to see irishred and fotocali are still going strong!
I have been so busy, and so I haven't kept up like I meant to. I'm still writing and making pizza's and running around like a chicken with it's head cut off. If I get a chance I'll check in again sooner.
Hope everyone had a great memorial weekend.
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| Saying good bye to old...hello to new? |
| 12.12.03 (8:15 am) [edit] |
Well, I've ended my stay at m-blog, and I guess I'll have to try this place more. I'm still not real comfy, but I guess that could be just because it's a little different. I'm hoping that some of those who have come from the m-blog community will make me feel more at home. Hi Elaine!! (grin)
Anyway, am trying to get in the holiday mood, and it's coming slow. Tonight is a party that I'm supposed to help set tables for, and I'm not sure we're even going to be able to go. This is such a busy time....
Well...I have to take off. Stuff to do, people to see, no time to do...sigh.
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| Happy Thanksgiving all! |
| 11.26.03 (10:11 am) [edit] |
Just wanted to wish everyone a happy day, won't be logging on tomorrow...so getting it in now. We have snow, so it's a gorgeous day, but it'll be melted by tonight so tomorrow will be cold!! Anyway, chicken pox still going, and life goes on. Took hubby to work and it took almost an hour and a half to get him there...some peoples children don't know how to drive in the snow....sigh.
Have a good one.
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| chicken pox! |
| 11.25.03 (6:36 pm) [edit] |
oh boy, I tell you, I really thought I was through all the childhood diseases with my kids...I mean, the youngest is 8!! oh well... the poor kidlets. two of them have come down with it. Of course, it's the 13 year olds fault, he got shingles! :roll: If it's not one thing, it's another. That's what happens when you have lots of kids, I guess. :) Just tried an oatmeal bath for the first time. Never heard of one when my other children got this...I hope it helps. The poor kid has them all in his hair! Well, I guess I'd better get them dressed and fed. Hope everyone is having a good one!
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| Greetings from blogg land! |
| 11.20.03 (3:45 pm) [edit] |
Well...the other blogg site I was at was crunching on the free members, so we are all sort of abandoning ship...javascript:emoticon(':P')
Razz :? Anyway, I'm trying this out to see if I can figure it. So far it's a little more confusing.
:shock: Hopefully I'll get it. Hi to those that came over from m-blog... I'm a writer, so I'll be posting stuff periodically for those who like to read! Have a good one.
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