A Newport Sunrise

by Cindy Caldwell

  "Ahem," Faith heard behind her, and she turned around to see Mrs. Grover was still in the shop.

  "Hi, Mrs. Grover," Faith said as she crumpled the list of names and threw it in the trash.

  "I wasn't eavesdropping, but I couldn't help but overhear. You're looking for some help here in the shop?"

  "I am," Patti said, no longer whining but clearly annoyed. "You'd think someone would be honored to work here. It's such a wonderful shop. I pay well, and it's only temporary. I'm not going to be gone forever."

  "Sold," Mrs. Grover said, her eyes twinkling.

  Faith blinked a few times, not sure she'd heard her correctly.

  "Mrs. Grover, are you sure? Have you ever worked retail before?"

  "Oh, hush, now, Faith. I'm sure this lovely lady —Mrs. Grover, you said?"

  "Yes. Caroline Grover."

  "I'm sure Mrs. Grover would be perfect for the job," Patti gushed. She turned and grabbed Mrs. Grover's hands and actually kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you, Mrs. Grover. You're a lifesaver. You and Faith here."

  She flounced into the back room, humming a tune and when the curtain fell behind her, Faith laughed and rushed over to Mrs. Grover.

  "Are you sure?" she whispered. "You don't have to. She'll find someone."

  Mrs. Grover squared her shoulders and looked quite determined. "She has found somebody. I've noticed how busy you girls are, and since Jen's Nana died —well, I've been a little bit adrift. And since it's temporary, it's perfect. And I get to work with you and smell like patchouli every day."

  Faith took a step back and couldn't contain her laugh. "Well, I guess it's you and me, kid."

  "Yep. We're a team."

  "Yes, a team," Faith said. "Now let me show you around so you can see what you've gotten yourself into. There may be time for you to back out if you want to."

  Patti threw aside the batik curtains and swooshed back into the store. "Well, my flight is booked for Monday morning, bright and early."

  Mrs. Grover and Faith shared a quick smile. "Looks like we're stuck now," Mrs. Grover whispered, and Faith smiled. She could think of a million things that would be worse than this, and it actually sounded like fun.

  Nineteen

  Mrs. Grover and Faith met early at the boutique the next day, and Faith showed her how to open up, work the cash register and do the other things that would need to be done on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday while Faith couldn't be there.

  "And Jen could be here in a flash if you need anything. In fact, she offered to work with you, but I don't really think we need two people here on weekdays at this time of year. There aren't many tourists since school's in session. And if Patti's not back by Thanksgiving break, I can work with you."

  Mrs. Grover fanned herself with a receipt book. "Oh, that makes me feel a little better. I wasn't nervous until the cash register part."

  Faith knew what she meant. She'd been nervous, too, in the beginning. But she'd gotten over it quickly and knew it would be the same for Mrs. Grover.

  "Also, I'll take you next door, to the shops on both sides. They're small, too, and the owners are very nice. They could help if you need anything. I'll be sure to leave their cell phone numbers."

  And when Faith and Mrs. Grover took a lunch break, she did just that.

  After lunch, she let Mrs. Grover pretty much run the shop by herself —Patti had left right after they'd gotten back, saying she had to pack. Which she probably did, but she certainly wasn't letting any moss grow under her feet. Faith would probably feel the same way herself if she was lucky enough to be heading off to Morocco.

  "Enjoy your purchase," Mrs. Grover said from behind the cash register.

  "Check you out. You're a pro already," Faith said after Mrs. Grover smiled and handed a customer their purchase, which she'd neatly placed in tissue paper, a purple net bag with a satin ribbon and into a brown paper bag with handles.

  "Well, thank you very much. It's been fun. And I really think I'll be fine here."

  "I know you will, Mrs. Grover. And thank you so much for helping out. You're really a lifesaver."

  It was almost time to close, and there was only one customer left in the boutique.

  "Why don't you go add up the receipts for the day and I can take a look while I'm here. That's really the last thing to go over. I'll take this customer."

  Mrs. Grover gave Faith a quick salute and headed to the cash register.

  Faith walked up behind a tall man who held a beautiful necklace in his hand. She'd learned to say something before she got too close so as not to startle the customers after another clerk who'd been working there didn't, and a woman dropped a very, very expensive crystal figurine of an Indian goddess.

  "That's a beautiful stone," she said, sincere in her assessment of the purple gem.

  He was tall —she barely came to his shoulder —and when he turned, he smiled.

  "It is, isn't it? I've only seen this stone one place before. It was in Chile, I think. Can't remember exactly. But they're not something you see frequently."

  It was actually one of Faith’s favorite pieces, and she remembered asking Patti where it was from when she'd unpacked it.

  "Peru." Faith glanced again at the beautiful silver work.

  "Ah, of course. I should have remembered. That's where I saw it. There were lots of them in the bazaar and I've kicked myself more than once that I didn't buy a few when I was there the last time."

  "The last time?" Faith said, wondering who was lucky enough to go to Peru not only once, but more than once.

  He turned again to glance at her and smiled. He looked a little embarrassed and studied his shoes for long enough that Faith wondered what he was doing. She looked down at his shoes, too, and there didn't seem to be anything wrong. Ordinary deck shoes, pretty common in Newport.

  He finally chuckled and said, "Yeah. I guess I travel a lot."

  "Lucky you," Faith said, quite sincerely. "I've always wanted to travel."

  "You haven't? Why not?" he asked, with equal sincerity, as if he couldn't understand why she wouldn't.

  "Long story," she said, not wanting to get into the details of why she wasn't able to use her one-way ticket to France when she was much, much younger and why it had never been possible afterward.

  "Ah. We all have long stories, don't we? Some saved for other times." He smiled warmly at her again and handed her the necklace. "I'll take this if you don't mind."

  Faith nodded and smiled, heading toward the cash register. Just as he was finished paying, Mrs. Grover came out from the back office.

  The man put his wallet in his back pocket and took the necklace that Faith had slipped into a pretty purple silk bag with satin ribbon. He'd said it was a gift, and she wanted to make it extra nice.

  "Thank you, and it was nice to chat with you. I hope you get to travel someday," he said before he turned to go.

  "He seemed nice," Mrs. Grover said as she stepped up to the register and set the stack of receipts on the counter. "He was kind of cute. You should have invited him for dinner."

  Faith cocked her head and looked after him out the store windows. "He was nice, but that's crazy. I don't even know his name. Bought a necklace, probably for his wife. We just chatted for a bit. He's traveled all over the world. And that's something I always wanted to do."

  Mrs. Grover leaned her elbow on the glass counter. "That's funny. I never wanted to be anywhere but here. But why didn't you travel if you wanted to?"

  Faith laughed. "It wasn't quite that simple. I had big plans that turned to dust. But everything turned out okay. I got Maggy."

  "I'd say that's even better than a trip around the world, Faith. Although I've never had a baby or traveled around the world. Take it for what it's worth."

  Faith chuckled, and knew she was going to enjoy working with Mrs. Grover. She was even more excited about it all now than when she'd come in earlier this morning and that was saying quite a lot.

  Twenty

  It was all Jen could
do not to hold her breath every time Keith —and his father —got up on the roof. Not for the first time, she wondered if it was all going to be all right.

  The first step in the process was tearing off the old shingles, and the front garden was full of wood. Keith had painstakingly covered all of the rose bushes and other flowers with tarps, and Jen really appreciated it. But it was still a big mess out front, and she was glad Nana wasn't there to see it.

  "Oh, my," Mrs. Grover had said as she walked by on her first day of work at the boutique. "I'm so glad your grandmother isn't here."

  Jen laughed and nodded. "I was just thinking the same thing. I'm sure she would have rolled with it, but it's a little anxiety-producing."

  Jen shielded her eyes from the sun and looked up at the roof, where Keith and his father were engaged in their odd but entertaining banter.

  "Everything okay up there?" she asked.

  They both stood and tipped their hats to Jen —they were both wearing hats this time, against the sun.

  "Yes, ma'am. All is well up here. What do you say, Cap'n?" Keith asked his father.

  "All is well, mate."

  They got back to work, but not before Earl gave Mrs. Grover an extra smile, and said, "Howdy, ma'am."

  Mrs. Grover nodded, then turned to Jen. "You're very brave. I know they do good work, but at their age they could fall off any second."

  "Don't think that hasn't crossed my mind," Jen said as she reached for a paper bag and handed it to Mrs. Grover.

  "I thought you might like a muffin to take with you, to celebrate your first week of work."

  "Oh, thank you. Today was the first day I didn't wake up with butterflies in my stomach. I hope everything's all right, and that Faith is pleased when she gets back."

  Jen wrapped her arm around Mrs. Grover and gave her a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sure everything is perfect. And I'm right here if you need anything. Please don't hesitate to call if you do."

  Mrs. Grover nodded and walked toward the ferry.

  "By the way, I love your outfit," Jen called out after her, smiling at the colorful, tie-died skirt that Mrs. Grover had somehow come up with.

  "Thanks," she said with a wave. "I dug out some of my hippie attire. Thought it might be appropriate. Goes with patchouli."

  Mrs. Grover consistently surprised Jen, and she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to envision Mrs. Grover as a hippie. She quickly realized she couldn't do it, and turned her attention back to the roof.

  She'd called both her father and her brother, and they'd surprised her by quickly agreeing.

  "That's a great price, Jen," her father had said. "Thanks for taking that on. That's exactly the kind of thing I wasn't interested in when I suggested selling. Remember, though, it's your and Greg's house now, so I don't really have a say. Make sure you call him."

  Jen said she would, and she did right after she'd hung up with her father.

  "Wow, great price," he'd said, and she'd finally let herself breathe a sigh of relief. She'd been prepared to take it on herself, but really didn't want to.

  So, with all of the finances in order, she'd written Keith a check on Monday, and he'd started bright and early the next day.

  "Wow. That's quite an operation," Joe said as he came up behind her.

  "Understatement," Jen said, reaching for his hand and pulling him up on the deck and out of the sun. "I try not to stare, but it's hard."

  "I can imagine," he said as he took the cup of coffee she offered. "Did he say how long it would take?"

  "Well, I've asked a couple of times, but the answers were long and convoluted, so I'm not exactly sure," she said with a smile.

  "Still no regrets?"

  She shook her head. "Nope, none. I mean regrets that I had to do it at all, but not with the selection of a contractor. He seems very thorough —he covered up all the bushes and cleans up every night. He even takes the tarps off the bushes and waters the plants by hand. I couldn't really ask for better. It's just —a big project."

  "That it is," Joe said in agreement. "Well, I'm glad it's going well. And I hope it doesn't take too long. We've got high winds forecast again in a week or so."

  Jen followed him to the gate after he'd finished his coffee. He kissed her on the cheek and she smiled as Keith said, "I didn't see that. Did you see that, Dad?"

  "I didn't see that either. Nope."

  Joe laughed and leaned forward, whispering in her ear. "You're sure?"

  Jen kissed him once more. "Positive. Why don't you and your mom come for dinner tomorrow night? Tonight's happy hour, and —"

  Joe held up his hands. "I know, no men."

  "Well, it's not like that, it's just —"

  Joe closed the gate behind him and smiled. "I know exactly what it is and I wouldn't dream of interrupting. I'll see if Ma's busy, but if she is I'd love to come anyway."

  "Great. Any requests for dinner?"

  "Hm. Haven't had pot roast in a while. And yours is the best."

  "Pot roast it is," Jen said. "Perfect, as it's supposed to cool down quite a bit tomorrow."

  Joe nodded and headed toward the gondolier dock.

  Jen took another look back up on the roof and sighed. She needed to just go in the house. Maybe that would help her anxiety. And she could work on something for lunch for these two —they seemed to really appreciate it, and she loved to feed people who enjoyed it. These two characters wouldn't be any different. And maybe she could ask them how long it would take and get something resembling a straight answer.

  Twenty-One

  Happy hour was fun, as usual. Carrie was in fine form, and they laughed until they cried when she described some of her foibles in her training class.

  "I never in a gazillion years thought I'd be doing Botox injections. Holy cannoli," she said. "But my mom just wouldn't let up —and to be honest, I had dental clients ask all the time. All the other dentists do it, they'd say. And they were right. But man, it's crazy."

  "Is it hard?"

  Carrie laughed and shook her head. "No. Actually, I can hire a trained assistant to do it, but I have to be licensed myself. It's just —I don't know. Weird."

  Mrs. Grover had stopped by, and Faith was happy to see that she'd survived her week. Faith had been quite worried, at least for the first day. They'd chatted that evening, though, and everything seemed fine.

  Faith used the extra time she had and designed a few new pillows —brand new designs that she'd been anxious to get to. They'd turned out pretty well, and by the time she got to the beach house, she was rested, refreshed and ready to tackle the boutique.

  She hopped out of bed the next morning and apologized to Daisy. "Maybe tomorrow, girl. I need to get to the boutique with Mrs. Grover," she said to the puppy as she grabbed a cup of coffee and headed next door.

  Mrs. Grover filled Faith in with what had been happening during the week while they walked to the boutique, taking the ferry. It was a crisp, bright morning and the sun sparkled on the water. Faith loved the feeling of floating on the ferry, even for the very short ride, and by the time they got to the boutique, she was even more ready for the day.

  "Boy, you weren't kidding about there being hardly anything to even sell," Faith said when she walked in the door of the boutique.

  Mrs. Grover shrugged off her sweater and hung it in the back room.

  "Won't take me long to dust, that's for sure," she said before she set about doing just that.

  It took Faith less time than it normally would have to reconcile all the receipts for the week that Mrs. Grover had neatly separated by day for her. She'd never seen such a small pile in all the months she'd been working there.

  Faith even opened the register and pulled out the cash drawer, hoping against hope that there might be more.

  "I swear I collected them all," Mrs. Grover said, her hand on her hip.

  "What?" Faith said, looking up. She blushed at the expression on Mrs. Grover's face. "Oh, I didn't —I never thought —"

  Faith let o
ut a breath when Mrs. Grover laughed. "I know you didn't. I was just trying to pull your leg. But it really wasn't slow —there just isn't much to buy. Not the unique things she usually has in here, anyway."

  The shelves were pretty much empty, no doubt. Faith looked around the back store room for any extra boxes of inventory, but there weren't any.

  She sat down on the stool behind the cash register and leaned on the counter. "I don't know all the details about Patti's business, but it hardly seems worth paying us to sit here and have nothing to sell."

  Mrs. Grover shrugged. "I've lived here long enough to know not to guess about why rich people do anything at all."

  Faith frowned. She'd been over Patti's books and, of course, worked with her for a long time now and Patti had never really struck her as rich. At least not her stereotypical version of rich. "What makes you think she's rich?"

  "Well, the rent on this prime spot has to be astronomical, and the store has been here for years. And I do know that she sent both of her daughters to college."

  Faith had sent her daughter to college, too, but she definitely wasn't rich. In fact, it had nearly bankrupted her.

  "And if you think about it, stability on this street is everything. I don't think she'd want to close, even to save money. You need your regulars."

  Faith thought about that for a minute. "I guess you're right. It's not high tourist season, but people do keep coming back to see if anything's new."

  "Right. Consistency is almost more important than what you have on the shelves."

  "I guess so," Faith said as she took one last look around the shop. "Several people did ask today when we'd be getting new stuff. I told them any day now."

  Mrs. Grover laughed. "I said the same. But is that true?"

  Faith shrugged. "I have no idea. Patti said she'd ship things as she found them, but that couldn't be faster than a few weeks, could it?"

  Mrs. Grover pulled on her sweater. "Why don't you ask her? Then at least we'll know what to tell customers and they won't be mad at us."

  "All right. I will." Faith didn't want to call as she had no idea what time zone Patti was in. She fired off a text and hoped that maybe she'd hear back by the following morning when they opened up again.