Blue Ink

by Tess Thompson

  Ardan wasn’t in the living room when I returned downstairs. A shrill scream came from the kitchen. Alarmed, I ran into the room. Ardan and Effie stood together at the island looking at an upside-down glass on the counter.

  “I heard a scream. Is everything all right?” I crossed over to the island.

  “It was me, miss. I saw a spider,” Effie said.

  “We’ve trapped it.” Ardan pointed at the glass. “And now we’re wondering what to do with it.”

  “What to do with it?” I asked, unsure how to read the situation.

  Effie shook her head. Her finely trimmed hair swung from side to side. “We’re afraid this might be a brown recluse.”

  I stepped backward, knocking a stool with my hip. “Why do you think so?”

  Ardan held up his phone. “We looked it up. And it matches the picture we found.”

  “Can you squash it?” I shivered. “I hate spiders.”

  “We do too, miss,” Effie said. “But not enough to kill them. Mr. Lanigan prefers they be taken outside.”

  “Unless they’re venomous. In which case, we’ve no choice but to kill them. Right?” He looked over at me as if I were the spider-killing-decision-maker.

  “I kill them no matter if they’re venomous or not,” I said.

  “Mr. Lanigan’s too kind-hearted for that, miss,” Effie said. “He can’t bear to hurt any living creature.”

  “Even spiders?”

  She nodded solemnly.

  “They’re helpless,” Ardan said. “We’re so powerful. It’s not really fair.”

  “Regardless, they’re creepy,” I said. “Venom or not. You’ve got to squash them with your shoe.”

  “You’re ruthless,” Ardan said. “I didn’t see that coming.”

  I looked over at him. He watched me with a slight smile. If I hadn’t been so concerned that a venomous spider was trying to crawl up the side of a glass feet from me, I might have gotten lost in our little world again. However, a potentially life-snatching spider took precedence. I scratched the base of my skull. Were they crawling everywhere? Idaho must be full of spiders, given the number of trees. Was it a common occurrence that they entered the house? I would have assumed a new house would be tight as a drum. No open spaces for a spider to crawl into and make their way to my bedroom.

  “How did it get in the house?” I had to ask. “Do you have a lot of spiders?”

  Effie pointed toward a box on the table. “It came in there.” The side of the box was labeled “Carver Farms.”

  “Local fresh produce,” Ardan said. “The box comes once a week.”

  “It was on the lettuce bunch,” Effie said. “Thankfully, Mr. Lanigan was here and acted quickly.”

  “I had to sacrifice my water,” he said.

  “All right. We have to take this situation in hand,” I said. “The spider has to go.” We all stood there looking at one another. “Well, I’m not going to do it. I’m the new girl. The city mouse.”

  I heard the clicking of heels on the hardwood floors and turned to see Bliss in the doorway. The spider flew from my mind at the sight of her. She was as gorgeous as always, tall and athletic looking, with dewy skin and lustrous honey-hued hair, but there was something distinctly different about her since the last time I’d seen her. She was pregnant. Quite pregnant, if the size of her belly was any clue.

  “Bliss, I had no idea,” I said as we wrapped our arms around each other.

  “I wanted to surprise you. I’m due next month,” Bliss said. “Can you believe I’m going to be a mother?”

  “You’ll be a great one,” I said. “But I am surprised.” When I worked for her, Bliss was the most driven woman I’d ever met. She did little else but work in those days. In fact, I’d never seen her without a phone or a laptop in her hands. Idaho and a Lanigan man had obviously changed her.

  “Charlotte, you look wonderful.” She looked over at Ardan. “Did she meet Mrs. Lanigan yet? Has she agreed to stay?” She turned back to me. “Have you agreed to stay?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Lanigan will be just fine,” I said. “I’ve dealt with more difficult bosses. Not to worry.”

  Bliss seemed to notice the spider in the glass for the first time. “What’s that?”

  “We think it’s a brown recluse,” Ardan said. “We’re about to draw straws to see who has to kill it.”

  “For heaven’s sake.” Bliss removed her ballerina flat and flew around the corner of the island. Like a superhero, she lifted the glass and smashed the spider with her shoe.

  Effie screamed. I gasped. Ardan’s eyes widened as he stumbled back from the counter. Bliss held up her shoe. The spider’s remains were stuck to the bottom in a gooey mess. I shivered again.

  “Get rid of it,” Effie said to Bliss. “You can’t have it on your shoe and walk on my clean floors. I just cleaned up from Mr. Lanigan’s boots.”

  “Effie, you’re such a stickler for rules.” Bliss tore a paper towel from the dispenser and wiped the bottom of her shoe.

  “Outside with that please, Mrs. Lanigan.” Effie already had a can of sanitizing cleaner aimed at the counter where the spider had been. “Put it in the rubbish bin in the garage. I can’t have it anywhere near me.”

  Bliss tossed her hair behind her shoulders and laughed. “You should all be ashamed the pregnant lady had to kill the spider.” She was already across the room and yanking open the door to the garage.

  Effie exhaled and picked up the glass with the tips of her fingers. “We’ll just put this in the dishwasher and be done with it.”

  Bliss returned with the same satisfied smile she’d left with. “Now, where were we?”

  “I was about to make Mr. Lanigan and Miss Wilde lunch. Would you care for a bite, Mrs. Lanigan?” Effie wiped the counter with a paper towel like she wanted to punish the granite.

  “No, thanks Effie. I only came by to say hello to Charlotte. I have to drive to Hailey to pick up the last few items for the baby.”

  We chatted for a few minutes before Bliss headed out the door, promising to visit again soon.

  After she left, I turned to Effie and Ardan. “Tell me the truth. How many spiders are in this house?”

  Ardan shook his head and laughed. “None. Effie keeps it too clean.”

  “It was the box, miss. I swear.”

  “Okay, because when I get into bed tonight, I don’t want to worry about one crawling in there with me. This city girl does not do spiders.”

  “I swear you’re safe,” Ardan said.

  “From spiders anyway,” Effie said with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

  “If I get eaten by a bear, you’ll have my mother to deal with,” I said. “And you don’t want that.”

  After lunch, Ardan and I talked in his study. I’d come up with a few ideas for Mrs. Lanigan that I wanted to run by him. One was to load her phone with audiobooks. He agreed, but said he’d already suggested it to her and she’d flatly turned him down. “She said she won’t be able to operate the device to play them. Which is a good point,” he said.

  “I’ll find a way. Do you have a pair of headphones I could give her?”

  He reached into a drawer in his desk and pulled out a high-end pair with soft cushions. “She broke her phone when she dropped it. I tried to get her another one, but she refused.” He pushed a tablet across the desk. “We can load them onto this.”

  “What type of books does she enjoy?” I asked.

  “Mysteries, historical fiction. No romance. She says romances are for dreamers.”

  “Romances it is, then.”

  He laughed. “You have a wicked streak.”

  I fluttered my eyelashes. “Not me.”

  We chose a dozen audiobooks we thought she’d enjoy and downloaded them onto the tablet.

  I suggested we have another consultant come out to teach Mrs. Lanigan techniques for independent living.

  “I know it would change so much for her, but I’m not holding my breath,” he said. “You underestimate the L
anigan stubbornness.”

  “I’ll work on her. One day at a time.”

  For the next hour, we stood side by side to sort through the letters, grouping all the ones with dates or date stamps in one pile on the table and the ones without in another. Letters in envelopes with just a handwritten name and no address were put in a third stack. Next, we put the thirty or so dated envelopes, all with letters inside, into chronological order. After that was done, we both read through the first several letters. “I can’t wait to read these to your mother,” I said.

  Ardan stared at the wall. A flush had risen to his cheeks.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Nothing. Or, I’m not sure if it’s something. After you read these to Mother, please tell me what she says.”

  The sound of the bell interrupted further conversation. Mrs. Lanigan was awake from her nap. “I’ll bring her a snack and the promise to read the first two letters out loud if she’ll eat. What’s something she can’t resist?”

  “Sharp cheddar cheese and Honeycrisp apples,” he said. “But you won’t get her to eat them.”

  “Is that a challenge, Mr. Lanigan?”

  His eyes twinkled at me. “Maybe.”

  “What do I get if I win?”

  He stuttered an answer. “I’ll...I’ll have to think about that.”

  “Don’t think too hard. I wouldn’t want you to waste energy that could be used for other activities.”

  I didn’t wait for a response. As I crossed to the doorway, I felt his gaze following me. I smiled all the way to the kitchen.

  I asked Effie if she would cut some cheese and apples slices for Mrs. Lanigan. “Please arrange her food like the hands of a clock. That way she’ll know what’s where.”

  “Will do, miss.” Effie practically danced toward the refrigerator. “You’re a clever one.”

  Effie’s hands flew as she cut perfectly even slices of both cheese and apples. “I got these especially for her at the store yesterday.” She made a row of apples near the top of the plate and cheese on the bottom. “Mr. Lanigan told me she liked them, but I was too afraid to try again after the breakfast incident.”

  I explained about Mrs. Lanigan’s frustration over burning herself. “Everything’s foreign to her and scary. Not that it’s any excuse for throwing dishes at you.” Then, I told a small fib. “She feels terrible and asked me to tell you how sorry she is.”

  Effie’s eyes shone with compassion. “It must be awful. Tell her I accept her apology.”

  “Until I get her sorted out, please let me bring all her meals. There’s no reason for you to fall victim to her moods.”

  “That would be a great relief,” Effie said. “Thank you.”

  “It’s going to all work out,” I said. “Don’t worry.”

  Armed with the snack, headphones, and tablet, I made my way to Mrs. Lanigan’s room. “May I come in?” I asked at the door.

  “I called for you, didn’t I?”

  She was in bed, leaning against a stack of pillows.

  “Did you have a good rest?” I asked.

  “Not really. It’s hotter than Hades in here.”

  “It is warm.” I glanced around the room. There was a ceiling vent near the window that would be for air conditioning or heat, depending on the season. I set the tray on the end of the bed and went to inspect. “Ah, here’s the trouble. The vent was closed. Ardan might have worried you would get cold.”

  “He thinks all old ladies are chronically cold.”

  “My mother’s always cold. Not that she’s an old lady. I think it’s because she’s so skinny.” I stood on the hardback chair to open the vent. Immediately, air came through, rustling my curls. “That should do it.”

  “It won’t help. It’s like a prison camp in Africa in here.” She raised her chin and sniffed the air. “What’s that stink?”

  “I’ve brought a snack. Apples and cheese.”

  She licked her lips. I got her. She was hungry, and I’d brought just the snack to tempt her.

  “Doesn’t that sound great?” I asked.

  She scowled. “What kind?”

  “Sharp cheddar and Honeycrisp. Effie got them especially for you.”

  “I don’t care for that combination.”

  “Ardan said it was your favorite.”

  “It was at one time.”

  “Good, because you’re going to eat them.”

  “I’m not a child.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Then stop acting like one.” I sat on the side of the bed. “I’m putting a rectangular tray on your lap.” I snapped the legs of the tray open and placed it carefully around her thighs. “The plate’s in the middle of the tray. From now on, food will be arranged like the hands of a clock. That way you’ll know what to look for. Apples at twelve and cheese at six.”

  She touched the edge of the tray, then ran her fingers all around the circumference of the plate.

  “Good,” I said. “It’s best to understand the size and shape of things. Now, eat up and I’ll read you the first two letters.”

  Her eyelids fluttered. She sat up straighter. “You found them?”

  “Yes, and you’ll want to hear them.”

  “This is blackmail.”

  “Technically, it’s bribery,” I said.

  “You’re a bad person.”

  “It’s true.” I sat in my usual chair and pulled the two letters out of my pocket. “Go ahead. I’m waiting.”

  “Fine.” She felt with her fingers until she found the apples and the cheese, then popped one of each in her mouth and chewed dramatically. “Happy now?”

  “I am. Keep eating.”

  She gobbled another. I was right. She was half-starved.

  “I’m the only one who needs to be on a hunger strike,” I said.

  “Are you fat?” She ate another.

  “Chubby.”

  “Give me your arm. I want to feel.”

  I put my arm out in front of her. She gave my upper arm a good squeeze.

  “Muscle,” she said. “Not fat.”

  “I swim a lot. But I’m wide. Everywhere.”

  “All the girls want to look like twigs now. It’s not attractive.”

  “I want to look like one, but it’s not going to happen.” I described my height and measurements. “My D cups and big butt were given to me from my grandmother. My mother’s a tall twig. So unfair.” I smiled, thinking of my pretty mother and her pearls and dresses. She would think Mrs. Lanigan was hilarious too. My mother was also a lion tamer, only her forte was little children. She could wrestle a child into the dentist’s chair and get him settled in for an exam with one hand tied behind her back and not even break a sweat.

  “I can hear you smiling,” she said.

  “I was thinking about my mother.”

  “What about her?”

  “She was very good with the children at my father’s office. The kids loved coming there, once they met my mom. She could win over even the most reluctant visitors.”

  “Are you suggesting I’m like your father’s patients?” she asked with a huff.

  “If the shoe fits.”

  “You have an annoying quality of sounding perpetually cheerful. My mother was like that,” Mrs. Lanigan said.

  “I do?” I wasn’t cheerful all the time. Not at all. Most of the time I was a hot mess. “Maybe it’s because I like it here so far.”

  “What do you like about no-man’s-land?” She munched on another combination of cheese and apple.

  “I like this house. It’s exactly what I would’ve built if I’d had a choice. I have a thing for Cape Cod. I like Effie and her cute accent and big heart. I like you because you make me laugh. And the color of the sky here. Oh, and Blue Mountain and Ardan’s pool with that glass contraption over it. I mean, seriously, being rich must be awesome.” And Ardan. Mostly Ardan.

  “It is. But none of it matters one fig if you don’t have your health,” Mrs. Lanigan said.

  “
My mother always says that.”

  “Why didn’t they have more than one of you?”

  “They tried, but Mom couldn’t get pregnant again.”

  “How sad.”

  “She never talked about it much,” I said. “Talk about perpetually cheerful.”

  “How nauseating.”

  I laughed. “Not on her. She wears it well.”

  “It’s offensive that I make you laugh. I haven’t said one funny thing since I met you. Which means you’re laughing at me not with me.”

  “True.”

  Her plate was empty. I wanted to fist bump something, but it would have to wait. Lion taming was a lonely job.

  “Would you like me to get you something else to eat?” I asked.

  “No. I’d like my letter now.”

  “You got it.”

  I pulled the letter from the faded envelope.

  January 2, 1938

  Dear Augusta,

  I hope this letter finds you well and with your scarf back on the neck of its beautiful owner. Your landlady, Mrs. Purdy, was unmoved by my heartfelt plea to deliver it to you myself. She cast cold eyes upon me with such ferocity I quickly abandoned my plan to plow through her in a brave attempt to rescue your cold neck.

  Your description of her looking like Groucho Marx was frighteningly accurate. I knew her right away. Her eyebrows are like one long caterpillar. From this day forward, I’ll not question your descriptions.

  How lucky I am you dropped your scarf as you ran to catch the train. It’s given me an excuse to see you right away. Not that I needed one. I would gladly embarrass myself in front of Mrs. Purdy a thousand times if I thought I could spend time with you.

  I’ve not stopped thinking of you since our chance encounter on New Year’s Eve. I never thought a snowstorm shutting down the trains would bring such a gift. The gift of you. How fortuitous that I happened to be in Indiana for business just as you were coming back to Chicago from a visit with your parents. I’ve never been one to think much of destiny or fate, believing that much of what happens to us is because of our own actions or reactions. After our time together, I might have to rethink my stance on this subject. The first time I looked into your eyes, I felt a softening of my heart and a feeling of inevitability.