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Newport Harbor House

Page 12

by Cindy Caldwell


  “We’re going to have to move some things aside to get in here.”

  Jen nodded and squeezed her way into the room after Joe.

  “Wow. This is a lot of stuff,” she said, looking around at the room.

  The walls were covered with shelves, and the shelves were full of figurines. A table in the middle of the floor held a working model train with the most realistic additions Jen had ever seen to one.

  “Wow, that looks real. Those mountains, and that lake—that had to have taken forever to do.”

  Joe nodded slowly. “It’s an exact replica of the part of Italy my dad grew up in.”

  “You don’t want to part with that, do you?”

  Joe shrugged. “I never had kids. If I had a son, I’d want to give it to him, I suppose.”

  “Oh, Michael and Max loved model trains when they were little. I was always sorry that Allen wasn’t around to make one for them.”

  “Well, I think we should save that, then, and see if one of the boys wants it. They may want it for their kids. Besides, my dad loved Allen like a son and would like that very much, I’m sure.”

  “That’s very sweet. We need to invite Michael and Amber out so we can all catch up. I forgot all about it.”

  “Me, too. How about next weekend? I think I’m fully staffed for the rest of the summer. Shouldn’t have to pull any gondola shifts.”

  Jen laughed. “Deal. I’ll call them tomorrow and see what I can do.”

  Jen rested her hands on her hips as she turned in a full circle and looked at the rest of the things stuffed in the very small room. From posters on the wall to a glass-lidded tray of Mickey Mouse watches, most things seemed to be Disney-related.

  “So. This is really amazing. I don’t remember so many Disney things when we snuck in here. I think we were just looking at the train. What’s the deal?”

  Joe laughed and shook his head. “Have I got a story for you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Mrs. Grover?” Carrie said as she knocked on Jen’s neighbor’s door. She hadn’t seen the woman in years—at least not more than her nose against the window as the curtains twitched. But the idea had struck her that it was the perfect place to spy on the open house, and when Jen had agreed to the plan, they knew that Nana’s muffins would be the key.

  “Mrs. Grover, are you there?” Carrie knocked one more time and finally, the older woman opened the door. Just a crack, but she did.

  “Hello, Carrie. I haven’t seen you in ages.” Mrs. Grover opened the door a little bit more, but squinted and looked from Carrie’s face to the bag and back up again.

  “Hi, Mrs. Grover. I was wondering if I could come in for a minute. I brought you something. Muffins from Nana. Well, not Nana. Jen made them. But Nana’s recipe.”

  She held out the bag, and Mrs. Grover’s eyes lit up. She opened the door wide, beckoning for her to come in.

  “How lovely. Would you like to stay for tea?”

  Carrie breathed a sigh of relief and looked out the window, choosing the best seat to watch from.

  “I’d love to, Mrs. Grover.”

  She settled on the settee nearest the window and opened the curtains. Mrs. Grover put a kettle on and Carrie leaned forward, watching people climb the steps of Jen’s house. She frowned when Dirk welcomed them with a smile and a handshake.

  Utensils clinked in the kitchen, and eventually Mrs. Grover appeared with a plate of muffins and a pot of tea. She’d used her best silver tea tray, and the small pot with sugar and the little pitcher with tea matched perfectly.

  She set the tray on a lace doily that covered the coffee table, and Carrie thought of Nana.

  “I’m so glad for the company, and it was so sweet of you to bring over some muffins. I’ve missed them sorely.”

  “I bet. They’re delicious,” Carrie said, craning her neck to see over Mrs. Grover’s shoulder. She sighed as another young family came to the house, walking all around the deck.

  “And I’ve missed my friend, too,” Mrs. Grover added in a much more quiet voice.

  Carrie paused, her teacup halfway to her mouth, and looked more closely at Mrs. Grover. Jen’s nana and Mrs. Grover had been close friends. They’d walked together every day, and Carrie was suddenly struck with what a shock it must have been for Mrs. Grover to have suddenly lost her best friend. If something happened to either Faith or Jen, she didn’t know what she would do, and a wave of understanding washed over her.

  She spent the next few hours filling Mrs. Grover in on what was happening, her heart light at giving the older woman something to talk about. Together, they watched through the window, and when it was all over, Carrie gave Mrs. Grover a very sincere hug.

  “Thank you for spending your afternoon with me, and letting me be a spy.”

  Mrs. Grover waved her hand. “Think nothing of it. I enjoyed your company, and it’s not as if I’m a novice at it.”

  She giggled and covered her hand with her mouth, and Carrie smiled as she left.

  Carrie glanced at her watch and knew she’d have to hurry to get to the restaurant. She’d stayed a while after Dirk had locked the house and left, and she’d need to step it up.

  He waved her over from the upper deck of the Lighthouse Café. The replica of an old lighthouse had been beautifully designed. A circle of mirrors with lights behind them spun at the very top of the tall ceiling, and it was one of Carrie’s favorite places, new as it was.

  “Hi,” he said as she slipped into a chair at the table set for five. The others would be along shortly.

  “Hello. How’d it go today?”

  “Ah, not that interested in the fundraiser, eh?”

  Carrie fiddled with her napkin and then set it in her lap. The waiter asked for her drink order, noting that it was happy hour. She ordered a chardonnay—and one for Carrie and Faith. She knew they’d be as nervous as she was.

  “I’m definitely interested in the fundraiser, but I am more interested at this moment in the open house.”

  “Well—” Dirk started, “Don’t you think we should wait for Jen? I don’t want to tell the story twice.”

  “Oh, jeez,” Carrie groaned. “Okay. Fine. So, Jen was going to see our friend Joe today about some donations. His late father had quite a Disney collection, and I think we’ll get a big donation from that.”

  Dirk set his menu on his plate. “That’ll be great. They always get high dollar.”

  Carrie nodded. “Good, then. And I already gave you the other donations we’ve received. How have you done?”

  Dirk leaned back in his chair, his fingers intertwined behind his head. He grinned like the Cheshire Cat and Carrie leaned forward, wondering what the donation was.

  “I got a trip for two to Hawaii. A week’s timeshare, and an airline donated, too. Free tickets.”

  Carrie raised her eyebrows and slow-clapped. “Nice. Very nice.”

  Dirk nodded. “Thank you. I hope to get a pretty good sum for it at the auction. The children’s wing really needs this.”

  “I know,” Carrie said. “It feels good to help. Speaking of the auction, how does that work?”

  “Well, we need an auctioneer. Your mother said you might be interested.”

  Carrie held her palms out toward Dirk. “No, no, no. I told her no funny business. I would collect donations, and that was it. And come to the event, of course.”

  Dirk speared a shrimp with his fork—an appetizer he’d ordered with drinks—and dipped it into the spicy cocktail sauce.

  “I thought you might say that. What if we just stick with a silent auction? You know, the kind where people bid on paper. Much easier that way.”

  “Great. That works for me. All the preparation in that is in advance, and we can just monitor it as we go. We’ll need an announcer for the winners, though,” Carrie said as she reached for a shrimp. They were cold and sweet, almost like lobster. The menu said they were from the Sea of Cortez in Mexico—the best around.

  “Perfect. I’ll take care of
it. But the fundraiser’s only a month away. I think we ought to meet more regularly, don’t you? I mean, we still need to coordinate all of these baskets and things. Get them wrapped up.”

  Carrie swizzled another shrimp in the spicy cocktail sauce. “So, you won’t tell me anything about the open house?”

  Dirk laughed and shook his head. “No. You’ll just have to wait.”

  Carrie leaned over toward the floor-to-ceiling window and sighed with relief as she saw Joe and Jen heading for the door. She didn’t think she could wait any longer.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Joe picked up a small figurine off one of the shelves and held it out to Jen.

  “I didn’t even know why until I was older. Every time I asked, he’d just smile and shake his head.”

  “Really? Did you guys go there a lot when you were kids?”

  Joe picked up stack of postcards, each in a cellophane case, and flipped through them.

  “No, not really. I knew that my dad had worked there at one time. He was trained as an electrician and worked there when they were building the original park. It went up in stages, and he worked on lots of different things. But the one he enjoyed working on best was It’s a Small World.

  “Oh, the one where you go through on a boat and all the little kids from around the world sing?”

  Joe nodded and put the postcards back on the shelf. “Yep, that one. Said it reminded him of the places he wanted to visit.”

  Jen picked up a gondolier figurine from one of the shelves. “Like this?”

  Joe sat down on a folding chair by the train set and moved the engine forward a little bit, then rested his elbows on his knees.

  “Believe it or not, he said that’s where he got the idea to start the gondola company. He’d married my mom, had me, they’d moved here, and she loved to cook. He said it was one way he could bring Italy to California. Or something like that.”

  “It certainly turned out well. You guys have the best business in town.”

  “I guess so. I never really appreciated it until recently, when I came back and saw how much people love it. It’s kind of cheesy, Italian gondoliers in California, but if you could see how happy these people are, you’d know what I mean.”

  “Oh, I’ve seen it. People love it.”

  Joe looked out the window and waved. “Ma’s home.” He turned back to Jen and held his arms wide at all the stuff in the room. “They do love it. And it’s done really well for us. My parents loved doing it, so—I just think he was grateful to Mr. Disney for the idea.”

  Daisy and Boris nudged the door open with their noses and took position under the train table. Joe reached down and rubbed them both behind the ears, their tails thumping furiously on the carpet.

  “That’s a very sweet story.”

  “My Gino was a very sweet man,” Joe’s mom said when she popped her head into the room. “How are you two doing?”

  Jen smiled and nodded at Mrs. Russo. “We’re doing fine, I think, Mrs. Russo. Not sure where to start, really.”

  Joe stood gestured again at the full room. “There’s so much in here, Ma. What are you thinking?”

  Mrs. Russo gripped a tissue in her hands and stepped gingerly into the room. She dabbed a cheek as she looked around.

  “Your father loved all of this, and I know other people would, too. But I will tell you, after decades sitting outside while he sat in here and searched the internet for collectors’ items, my suggestion would be to just focus on one thing.”

  She turned to the shelves on the wall and picked up the figurine of the child dressed as a gondolier and one of a girl from Africa. “These meant the world to him. And he searched high and low for them. If the money is going to the children’s wing at the hospital, he’d want you to take them and auction them off to the highest bidder.”

  Joe ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. “I don’t know, Ma. Would anybody want them?”

  Mrs. Russo raised an eyebrow and glanced at Jen. “They might if you can find all of the figurines from all of the countries on the ride. That’s what your father was hunting for. I never knew for sure if he’d been successful. But if he was, it could be worth quite a pretty penny. And it would mean the world to him if it helped some kids.”

  “Let me get my laptop,” Joe said as he followed his mother out the door. “I don’t even know what that is or what it means. But I bet we can find out.”

  Joe and Jen spent the afternoon researching the original ride and all the souvenirs that had been sold from that time. They hunted on shelves, in boxes, under tables and in the closet.

  “I think—do we have them all?” Joe finally said, stunned that his father had collected so many.

  Jen plopped down on the chair by the model train and looked at the notepad with her list. “I think we do.”

  “Well, I guess the next step is to try to find out how much it’s worth as a collection. Ma wants to donate it, so that’s a done deal. But I hope the auction will fetch a fair price.”

  “I bet it will. We just need to advertise it a little bit. Even though the auction is local, this one puts out a glossy brochure and spreads it far and wide so that people from other places can donate. We might really have something here.”

  Joe whistled softly. “Wouldn’t that be something?”

  Jen rested her hand on his shoulder. “It sure would. Quite a gift.”

  Joe rested his hand on hers. “My father would be so proud. Thanks for your help. Maybe you could come back and help me wrap them up sometime?”

  “I’d be honored,” Jen said. She glanced at her watch and took in a sharp breath. “I think we’re supposed to meet those guys at the Lighthouse Café. The open house will be over by now. I wonder what happened. How it went.”

  Joe lifted Jen’s chin, and their eyes met. He knew she’d been nervous about it, but the time had flown by as they went through the figurines. He was glad he could give her a bit of respite from her worry, and he wanted to comfort her now. Even if he wasn’t sure how things would turn out.

  “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay, Jen.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Mrs. Russo wished Jen good luck as Joe kissed his mother on the cheek and they set out for the Lighthouse Café. She’d happily agreed to watch the dogs while they were gone.

  “I have some nice leftover roast for them. They’ll be happy. I promise. You two scoot.”

  Jen gave her a grateful smile and told Daisy she wouldn’t be long, but it was clear that Daisy didn’t care one whit as she wrestled with Boris in the courtyard.

  It was a short walk to the Lighthouse Café but Jen was late—and more than a little anxious. She glanced at her watch a couple of times, and Joe grabbed her hand and picked up the pace.

  “What’s the worst that could happen?” he asked as they carefully crossed Newport Boulevard and got closer to the building designed like an authentic lighthouse.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Somebody liked it? Wants to buy it?”

  Joe laughed and squeezed Jen’s hand. “Well, yes, I know that. You agreed to this possibility. But I’m still hoping it didn’t happen. And won’t.”

  Jen appreciated his optimism—she’d run out of her own.

  “That was always a possibility. You picked a really high price, though, and it’s unlikely. Think positive.”

  She was trying the best she could, but it wasn’t working. When they made it to the Lighthouse Café, they met Faith in the lobby.

  “Any news?” Faith asked. She was out of breath, too, and looked as anxious as Jen felt.

  “No, none.”

  Joe told the hostess who they were meeting and she smiled, grabbed three menus and led them upstairs to the top floor of the lighthouse. It was one of Jen’s favorite spots—but the sweeping view of the harbor and beach with boats bobbing in the afternoon sun didn’t even catch her eye this time.

  Jen introduced Joe to Dirk before she scooted into the chair Joe held out for her.

  “
Oh, I’ve seen your face around everywhere,” Joe said to Dirk as he shook his hand. “You’re big business. Signs all over. What’s the word for that?”

  “Ubiquitous,” Jen chimed in and shrugged, smiling at Joe.

  Dirk’s smiled humbly, but what Joe said was true. You couldn’t miss Dirk’s signs all around Newport. And although she liked him, she wished her father had chosen someone much less competent.

  Everyone at the table fell silent, and all eyes were on Dirk. He looked around the table, raising his eyebrows.

  “How did it go?” Jen had no patience for any more pleasantries with so much at stake.

  Dirk cleared his throat. “Well, I guess we’ll get right to it.”

  “Thank you,” Jen said.

  “We had quite few guests. Lots of them commented on the throw pillows on the couch, but I didn’t know where you’d gotten them. Some came in for a quick moment, looked around and left. It was probably the broccoli.”

  Joe nudged her under the table with his knee. Jen looked down at her menu and tried not to smile.

  “At any rate, there were several couples who lingered. One couple had two cute little girls, and they spent a fair amount of time upstairs on the top deck looking at the view,” Dirk said.

  “Well, that sounds okay. Not like people were streaming through and coming back a second time,” Joe said brightly, and Jen knew he was trying to cheer her up. “That young couple with the little girls came back a second time, to get my card.”

  “Oh.” Jen flashed a weak smile over at Faith, who’d rested her hand on her arm, and at Carrie, who looked concerned as well.

  “They asked a few more questions but nothing major. Aside from that, it was a regular open house.”

  Jen pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to shake off the feeling of dread that had swept over her. There was nothing she could do about any of it right now, and the sweeping view of the harbor finally caught her attention.

  “It really is beautiful here. You can see forever,” she said absently.

 

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