by Lyn Gardner
Well-versed on all her children, Harriet knew that Patrick and Doug could be bullies at times and more often than not, they did get their way for her husband’s opinion was the only one that had ever mattered. She thanked God her youngest was nothing like them, and she knew there was no way in hell Judy was going to end up like she did. She wanted her daughter to have a better life, a life outside the orchard and the market and the kitchen. A life of new and different. A life of freedom and equality, and a life overflowing with all the opportunities an education could provide. It was the one and only time Harriet stood up to Patrick and Doug. By the time she was done, they slunk from the room with their tails tucked between their legs as she strolled out, her head higher than she had ever held it before.
Later that year, as the leaves began to turn, Harriet waved as Judy and Doug drove off to college. She paid no attention to the scowl painted on the face of her oldest son. At her hip, was her youngest, and draping her arm over Eric’s shoulders, Harriet pulled him closer. Her eyes grew glassy as she thought about how quickly the years had passed. In what seemed like no time at all, Patrick and Doug had become men, and Judy had grown into a woman, and Harriet’s face softened with a secret smile. She had just given her daughter the one thing her sons had always taken for granted. Judy had finally been given a choice, and Harriet knew her daughter had chosen wisely.
For as long as their mother was alive, Patrick and Doug said not one word to Judy about moving home. They offered lackluster congratulations when she graduated college and feigned excitement when she took a teaching position in Indianapolis. When she took another a few years later, moving over a hundred miles away to Monroeville, they hid their annoyance behind thin-lipped grins, and when she married, they begrudgingly sent her gifts. The only time her brothers were honest about their excitement was when Judy came home for a visit. They’d welcome her with open arms and hugs that never seemed to end, for she was finally where they thought she should be, and all was well...until she would leave to go back to her own life.
It wasn’t until after their mother passed when Judy’s brothers’ animosity bubbled to the surface. Whenever Judy visited, they began putting demands on her, dictating she needed to be home more often. Her place was in the market behind the register for that had always been her place, and the orchard was as much her birthright as theirs. That is what their father wanted. That was what they wanted, and for her not to do so would dishonor her father’s memory.
In the beginning, Judy was amused by her brothers’ preposterous ideas, and she shrugged them off with a laugh before climbing into her car and making her way back to Mackinac. She had no idea that her brothers’ sermons would be repeated each and every time she visited.
For the past five minutes, Judy had been staring at her plate, absorbed in her own thoughts and memories, but she suddenly noticed the room seemed even quieter. She looked up and found that all eyes were now on her, and Patrick, sitting at the head of the table, appeared as if his face had turned into a tomato.
Years in the sun had done its damage to Patrick. His once handsome profile was now etched with lines, deep and craggy, deserved of someone twenty years his senior. His love of fried chicken could be seen around his waist, and his enthusiasm for hard cider had colored his cheeks and nose permanently red, accentuating the blemishes left behind from his adolescent acne. His hair had receded and grayed, and the wire-rimmed glasses he once only used occasionally, now never left his face, and at that moment, he was peering over them at his sister.
“I’m...I’m sorry,” Judy said, glancing around the table. “Did I miss something?”
“I was just saying how nice it was to have you home. You didn’t seem to miss a step in the market these past few days.”
“Well, it’s not like the steps change, Pat,” Judy said, putting down her fork. “Other than a few prices, everything’s the same as it always is.”
Patrick pushed his glasses up his nose. Crossing his arms, he rested back in his chair. “So...is your room comfortable?”
As if on cue, Louise and Doug’s wife, Beverly, rose from their chairs, gathered up as many dishes as they could hold and disappeared into the kitchen like Siamese twins.
Tickled by the sight of the two women making their escape, Judy shook her head and then tossed her napkin on the table. “Well, Pat, since it’s the same room I use every year, and it’s the same room I grew up in, why wouldn’t it be comfortable?”
“There’s no reason to get snippy,” Patrick said, reaching for his cider. “I just asked a—”
The blast of a ferryboat horn suddenly filled the room, cutting Patrick off in mid-sentence and causing both Doug and Judy to jump. With a snicker, Judy got to her feet and scrambled to get her cell phone out of her back pocket. Glancing at the display, she accepted the call. “Hello.”
“Hi, it’s Robin.”
“Hi,” Judy said as she slid her chair under the table. “Um...could you give me a second?”
“Sure. No problem.”
Robin could hear voices in the background, and while the words were garbled, someone appeared to be shouting. Several seconds later, she heard some rustling and then what sounded like a door opening and closing.
“You still there?” Judy said, cradling the phone between her shoulder and ear while she zipped up her jacket.
“Yeah, but if I’m interrupting, I can always call back at another time. I just needed to hear a friendly voice.”
“Are you kidding? You just saved me from a fate almost worse than death, and what do you mean about a friendly voice? Is something wrong?”
Robin inwardly sighed. Even though she was inches away from sitting down in the parlor, Judy’s question was all it took for Robin to do an about-face and return the way she came. She strode back to the well-lit dining room, peeked inside, and then spun around. “Um…no,” Robin said, heading toward the parlor again. “Not really.”
“Not really?”
Robin could feel her cheeks beginning to heat as she nibbled on her lip. “Forget I said anything.”
“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”
“There’s nothing wrong.” Robin threw herself onto the sofa, and in an instant, the muscles in her thighs reminded her of the damage she had done to them. They also gave her the subject change she was looking for. “I...um...I got it into my head to start running again, and I’m just a little sore. No worries. It’ll pass.”
Judy wasn’t at all surprised to hear Robin liked to run. She guessed the woman was a size six, if that, and since meeting her a few weeks earlier, Judy had seen Robin wear at least three different pairs of well-worn, high-end running shoes. Still, Robin’s tone seemed off. “Are you sure?”
“Positive, and besides, by the sound of it, there’s something wrong with you. What’s this about a fate worse than death?”
“Almost worse than death,” Judy said as she took a seat in one of the rockers on the front porch. “And it was just my brothers, being my brothers.”
Robin’s eyebrows squished together, and feeling like she was reading one of her own novels, she replayed Judy’s words in her head, striving to solve the mystery. After a few seconds, she gave up. “Um...I feel like I need to buy a vowel here.”
Judy threw back her head and laughed, rocking so hard in the chair it slammed against the wall. “Oh God, I can’t tell you how much I needed that,” she said, sliding the rocker away from the clapboard siding.
“Glad I could help,” Robin said, her face turning rosy at the sound of Judy’s laughter. “But I still need that vowel, if you don’t mind.”
“Remember how I told you Pat and Doug are always trying to get me to move home?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, Pat was about to start something at the dinner table when you called, so you saved me from yet another lecture.”
Robin’s smile wavered. “Okay, so maybe this isn’t my place, but can’t you just tell them to knock it off?”
“I’ve tried,
but they only hear what they want to hear. It’s easier to let them ramble on than to get into a full-blown argument. One, I know, I’d never win.”
Robin unconsciously dipped her head in agreement. She had looked the other way with Pam more times than she could remember only because arguing would have been pointless. It’s hard to disagree with someone who’s always right. “I get that.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. Been there.”
Robin’s voice had sunk to a whisper, and even though Judy had wanted to ask, she didn’t. For almost a minute, neither woman said a word.
“So...how’s the weather?” Judy said, instantly rolling her eyes at the question.
Asking about the weather was one of Robin’s go-to questions whenever conversations stalled. It was lame, right up there with ‘what’s your sign,’ but it was a surefire way of keeping a chat moving, especially one you didn’t want to end. Unable to stop herself, Robin read more into Judy’s innocent query, and her heart doubled in size. “It’s good, but the nights are getting really chilly. I have a funny feeling my tank tops and shorts are never going to see the light of day again.”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Judy said, grinning. “There’re a few weeks in the summer you’ll be able to wear them.”
“A few weeks!”
Judy laughed. “Okay, maybe more than a few.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I stocked up on more winter clothes yesterday during my shopping spree in Petoskey.”
“You went on a shopping spree for clothes?”
“No, for furniture,” Robin said, relaxing back into the cushions. “But one thing led to another, and I ended up spending the entire day going from one store to another. By the time I got back, I had to run, so I didn’t miss the last ferry.”
“Been there, done that,” Judy said, chuckling. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but it sounds like you still had a fun day.”
The sound of Judy’s throaty chuckle affected Robin much like a glass of fine wine, warming her body and lowering her inhibitions and her guard. “I did,” she breathed into the phone. “Except it would have been much funner if you’d been there. I missed you.”
As soon as the words slipped from her lips, Robin wished her name was Hoover. Squeezing her eyes shut, she waited for Judy to respond. As the soundless seconds ticked by, the only thing taking up space in Robin’s mind was one word, and it kept repeating. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!
“Is funner even a word?”
Robin’s eyes flew open, and her body sagged as she let out the breath she’d been holding. “No, but just go with it. Okay?”
“All right, and...and I wish I could have been there. I think I would have enjoyed myself. Rain check?”
“Definitely,” Robin said, popping to attention on the sofa. “I’ve got plenty more to buy.”
“Something tells me you like shopping a little too much.”
“There’s no such thing as ‘too much.’”
“Uh oh.”
“What? Something wrong?”
“Other than the fact my employer is a compulsive shopper, absolutely nothing.”
“I’m not a compulsive shopper, and I’m not your employer.”
“Huh?”
“What I mean is, this thing with Safe Harbor is going to be a team effort between you and me, and I don’t want you ever to think you work for me.”
“But I do.”
“No, you don’t. As far as I’m concerned, you’re my business partner. Okay?”
“Robin, I haven’t contributed any money toward—”
“You’re going to contribute your time and your energy, so stop arguing. You won’t win.”
“Is that so?”
Robin couldn’t contain her grin. “Yes, that’s so. I want you to be my partner, Judy.” A second later, Robin’s eyes flew open wide. “I-I mean, business...business partner,” she quickly said as she pounded her fist on the sofa. “I want you to be my business partner.”
“Are you going to keep repeating that until I say yes?”
“If I have to.”
“Then I guess I’ll let you put this win in your column since my fingers are starting to freeze.”
“Oh crap, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were outside.”
“Don’t worry about it. I just forgot my gloves.”
“Then go inside and get warm.”
“I will,” Judy said, and getting up, she looked through one of the glass sidelights by the door. “I just want to make sure the coast is clear first. That way, I can make a mad dash upstairs before anyone sees me.”
“Is it?”
Before Judy could answer, her phone beeped in her ear. Looking at the screen, she sighed. “Robin, my battery is about to die, too.”
“That’s okay,” Robin said, glancing at her watch. “I have a few things I need to finish around here before I hit the hay anyway.”
“Call me in a few days? I promise to keep my phone charged.”
An unstoppable smile made its way across Robin’s face. “Absolutely.”
“Great,” Judy chirped. “So...good night, Robin.”
“Good night, Judy. Sweet dreams, when you get there.”
***
When Robin awoke the next morning, she did it with a groan. She’d been sleeping on the sofa for over a month, and the once comfortable cushions were no longer. After her trip to Petoskey on Friday, she had spent most of Saturday meeting with contractors about the kitchen and the unfinished shower, so as Robin got to her feet, she already was planning her day. First was to set up the coffee maker, second was to visit the bathroom, third was to feed Fred and Ginger, and fourth was to finish what she had started on Thursday.
An hour later, dressed in her painting clothes, Robin opened the door to the spare bedroom and repeated the process she had used in the living room and bedroom. She took down the curtains and rods and placed them in the appropriately-colored garbage bags, and then pulling a screwdriver from her back pocket, the drapery hardware was next. Moving around the room, all the covers for switches and outlets were removed until the only thing left was the bookcase in the corner. Unembellished and boxy, it seemed out of place, its plainness in direct contrast to the rest of the house. She scratched her head, wondering what color she’d paint it when she noticed a gap around the edges. Taking hold of a shelf, she gave it a tug, and her eyes widened when the bookcase easily slid toward her. “What the hell?”
Robin carefully inched the unit out of the alcove, and when she peeked behind it, her mouth dropped open. The niche wasn’t a niche at all. It was three times deeper than the bookcase and on the left was another door. “Not again.”
For almost a minute, Robin stared at the door. A few days earlier, she had whipped aside black drapes to reveal what they had hidden, and as she remembered that night, she rubbed the back of her neck. The last thing Robin wanted was to uncover another secret, especially if it was anything like the one she had found in the basement.
Robin looked over her shoulder at the door leading out of the room and then back at the one she had yet to open. With an escape plan now in place, she cleared her throat, held her breath, and placed her hand on the knob. Freeing it from its latch, she jumped backward as the door swung open.
Cool, musty air enveloped Robin in an instant, and dust particles, released from their confines, floated around her like weightless stars. She took a hesitant step and then another, her jaw dropping open as her eyes followed the ascent of a narrow, winding set of stairs.
Robin’s curiosity went into overdrive. She didn’t know where to look first. So many things were grabbing her attention, but something on the fourth step held it. In the middle of the tread was a twist tie and within its loops were two tiny brass keys.
Chapter Twenty-One
“I heard that Orson Feeney is back in town.”
Judy glanced at Eric, who looked back at her with the same wrinkled-brow expression. It was the first time Patrick had spoken at th
e dinner table since Sunday. With a shrug, Judy decided to take the bait. “Who?”
“Your old beau,” Patrick said, pushing his chair back a few inches from the table. “He’s a lawyer now, and he’s divorced.”
“I have no idea who you’re talking about,” Judy said with a slight shake of her head.
“Typical woman,” Patrick said, balling up his napkin and tossing it on the table. “Breaks a guy’s heart and doesn’t even remember him.”
“What are you—” Judy stopped as images of a certain Halloween came back to her. She had trekked through town as a scarecrow, and the hay stuffed into her pockets and jacket had made her itch all night. Orson’s obsession with comic books was well known around town, so it wasn’t a surprise he had worn the same costume he had the year before. Unfortunately, a year’s worth of overeating had caused the bat on his chest to stretch, and before the night was over, the seams of his grey tights had given way. Entertained by the memory, Judy’s eyes twinkled. “Oh my God, this is a stretch even for you, Pat,” she said, placing her napkin neatly next to her plate. “I was seven years old, and it wasn’t a date. We went trick-or-treating together because Mom didn’t want me to go by myself, and you and Doug were at a Halloween party.”
“Whatever,” Patrick said, grabbing his cider. “The point is, he’s back in town, and he has his own practice. You could do worse.”
Judy’s mouth went slack. She shot a look in Eric’s direction, hoping he’d come to her rescue, but when she saw his amused expression, Judy knew she was on her own. She turned her attention back to Patrick, but before she could say a word, the blast of a ferry horn caused everyone at the table to jump.
