by Joyce Magnin
“Why not?” She buttered her toast. “I decided to take the scenic route home and see as much of the country as I could. And I’ve already seen so much. And I really want to do this. I want to accomplish something … something big.”
Dana smiled as she refilled Harriet’s cup then settled in for a chat. “But if Grass Valley is home then —”
Harriet pulled her coffee cup from her lips. “No, no. My home was in Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania. Lived there my whole life.”
Harriet told Dana the whole story, about the bet, the broken ankle, and her decision to travel across the country very, very slowly.
When she was finished, Harriet saw that she had told her story not only to Dana but to Chef Chaz and a honeymooning couple who had come in while she was talking. They all found it interesting and even a little amusing.
“But aren’t you afraid?” asked the young bride. “A woman your … well, your age?”
“Nope. Not really. I just plan to stay out of the seedy parts of the world. Except, well, I did feel a little scared in Greensboro when my train got in after midnight.”
“Wow. I’d hate to travel alone,” the young woman said with a glance at her brand-new husband. “I’d get so lost.”
“What are you traveling with?” asked the young woman’s husband. “A backpack?”
“Oh dear, no. A backpack would break my back. I have my tote bag and my wheely suitcase. And my fancy GPS Droid, which I’m still learning to use.”
They talked gadgets for a few minutes, the groom giving her some handy tips for her Droid. Harriet sat there soaking in the admiration and interest of the people assembled around the large dining room table.
When the honeymooners left, Dana offered, “Chaz and I can help you figure out some buses from here. Are you leaving today?”
“Well, since it’s Sunday, I kind of thought I’d like to attend a church service if it’s not too late and there’s a church nearby. Give my traveling bones a rest.”
“There’s a Presbyterian Church just down the road. I believe the service begins at eleven.”
“Presbyterian? That’s perfect.” Harriet glanced at the clock on the mantel. “I guess I have time. But … on second thought maybe I can spend time with God just poking around town. Does that make sense?”
“Perfect sense. Where would you like to go?”
Harriet shrugged. “I don’t have the foggiest notion, sweetie pie. What’s around here?”
Chaz poured a cup of coffee and mixed a large amount of cream into it. He took a sip and considered Harriet’s question. She thought he was conjuring up something amazing from the gleam in his eye.
“It seems you like the B&B well enough,” he said.
“Oh my, yes. I think the inn is spectacular. As a matter of fact I was writing to Max just last night and —”
“Max?” Dana asked.
“Oh dear. He’s my dead husband.”
“And you’re writing him letters?” Chaz’s watery blue eyes grew a little larger.
“Yes. Ever since I started my adventure I’ve been keeping a journal of my travels and …” She looked away a moment. “It just seemed natural to write to Max. Makes the writing easier somehow — since I am not much of a writer. Not like my son.”
Dana pulled her coffee cup from her lips. “Your son is an author?”
“Yes. His name is Henry Beamer. He’s still trying to finish his second novel. Having a hard time from what I can tell. He’s been on a deadline with it, and I think that’s making him a little …” She twirled her finger around her ear.
Chaz laughed. “Imagine that. Writing a whole book. I have trouble writing out the grocery list.”
“I am proud of him. He must get his sensitive writer soul from my sister. She became a nun. Imagine that. Haven’t spoken to her in years — vows of silence and all. I could never do anything like that — Rosaline was always the —” She stopped talking. “I’m sorry. Don’t know what made me think of her. Anyhoo, did I tell you how much I love your place?”
Chaz smiled and brought the subject back to the trip.
“You’re my hero,” Dana said. “And between us, I don’t get the feeling it’s time for you to settle anywhere.”
Harriet felt her face warm. “If Henry and Prudence decide to have children,” Harriet said, “then I’ll settle. I want to be a Nana in the worst way.”
“I’m sure it will happen,” Dana said.
Harriet sipped the last of her coffee. “But you know what?” She bit the corner of a piece of toast. “I think church sounds better than sightseeing.”
Chef Chaz returned to the dining room with a tray of pastries. “Well, okay, but only if I can’t tempt you to stay and enjoy some sweets.”
“Oh, they look scrumptious.” Harriet touched her stomach. “But I think I’m better off walking to church.” She glanced at Dana. “If it’s close enough.”
“Yes,” Dana said. “Like I said, the service starts at eleven. It’s just ten-thirty now.”
“Can I get there in time?”
“It’s about a mile — other guests have walked it in about twenty minutes.”
“Oh, I should get a move on.”
“Can I drive you?” Dana asked. “I would be happy too.”
Harriet glanced out the window at the gorgeous summer day. She felt slight aches in her knees but the idea of a walk sounded good.
“Thank you, dear, but I think I’ll walk.”
“You can’t miss it. Big stone building with gray roofs and a sweet bell tower.”
Chapter 13
HENRY, STILL IN HIS PAJAMAS, WHICH WERE A PAIR OF Christmas boxers and a T-shirt with the words Nittany Lions on it, was in his office typing when Prudence, in running shorts and a T-shirt entered. Humphrey lay at Henry’s feet with his head resting against the leg of the desk.
“Are you going to church?” Prudence asked.
Henry shushed her. “I’m sorry. I just need to get this thought on paper.”
“Paper,” Prudence said. “Don’t you mean screen?”
“Screen, paper. It’s still black on white and —” He hung his head and stopped talking. “Darn. I lost my —”
“I’m so sorry, Henry. I’ll leave you alone. But are you going?”
“Do you mind if I stayed home and worked? I think I’m really on to something. Cash just discovered that he killed his own daughter in the fire. And —”
“Oh no,” Prudence said. “That’s terrible.”
“I know. But it’s what the story needed … listen, can you leave me to work, please?”
“Coffee?”
“Yes. And bring the pot.”
Prudence adjusted the blinds on the office window before she went to the kitchen. “A little light on the subject.”
“It’s not easy being a writer,” Henry said as he rubbed the dog’s belly with his bare feet. “Interruptions are the bane of the author’s life. I will never get that thought back. Ever.” Then he readjusted the blinds to his liking.
Humphrey rolled onto his side as a beam of warm sunshine filtered into the room.
Henry managed to get a few more words onto the screen before Prudence returned with the coffee. She placed a Rattan tray with a pot, a cup, and a small cream pitcher on the table next to his desk where Henry held stacks and stacks of pages and notebooks. She had no choice but to put the tray on top of the stacks.
“I need to get dressed for church. I have to go this morning. Nursery duty.”
Henry swallowed. “Nursery? How’d you get roped into that?”
“Roped is right,” Prudence said. She poured his coffee. “Mrs. Sternwell cornered me two weeks ago and complained about Misty Frothman not being able to be there today and … well, she practically begged me to do it.”
“Uhm, but, Prudence, are you sure you’re ready? I’m surprised you agreed this time.”
She shook her head and sighed. “I don’t know. I’m hoping there aren’t any infants today.”
He
nry sipped his coffee. “Maybe I should go, after all — just in case.”
“No, it’s fine. I kind of … need to do this.”
“Okay, well, I hope you don’t get thrown up on.” He smiled, trying to lighten the situation.
“Throw up? You mean that happens? In church?”
“Been known to. My mother used to come home with vomit on her dress.”
“Well, I won’t wear the Vera Wang this morning.”
“Jeans and sweatshirt will do it.”
“With my darling new sandals? No, I’ll dress.”
Henry put his cup down and went back to typing. He could sense Prudence staring at him like he was about to explode, and she wanted to catch the very moment.
“Henry,” she said. “Are you sure you’re not … disappointed?”
“Disappointed?” He continued to type. “What? That you’re going to church?”
“No. That I don’t want … I’m not ready to have a baby?”
Henry shook his head. “Another baby, you mean. And no, I’m okay. We have time. It’s my mother you have to worry about. When she gets out here — if she gets out here — she’ll have stuff to say, I’m sure, in her own delicate, sweet way, of course. Which is why we should maybe tell her about —”
Prudence put her index finger on Henry’s lips. “It’s private. We’re the only ones who need to know.”
“Okay.” Henry kissed her. “See you after church.”
Harriet returned to the inn from her visit to the First Presbyterian Church. Dana had picked her up in a blue minivan about 12:30. The ride home was sweet and peaceful as they passed houses that reminded Harriet of back home — split-levels and ranches nestled on lots with grassy lawns and trees still in spring flower.
“It was a very nice service,” Harriet said. “Isn’t it funny how God can find you anywhere, anytime? The pastor spoke from Ephesians, the first chapter. About how we were created to be the praise of God’s glory.”
“Uh-huh,” Dana said. “That’s important to you?”
“It certainly is — something I’ve been thinking about. I wonder if I am sometimes.”
“If you are … what?”
“To the praise of his glory, dear. Lately I’m wondering if I’m living with that in mind … if I’ve ever lived with that in mind.”
“Guess I’m not sure what it means.”
“Well, it’s a lot to figure out. For me it just makes me want to be sure the things I do and say matter, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant. Like my sister Rosaline, I guess. She works for God. Now that matters — big time.”
Dana coughed. “Sorry, but of course your words matter. The things you do are important.”
Harriet looked over at Dana. “I suppose so. But I want to feel God’s pleasure — absolutely and for certain before I die. Just like that missionary Eric Liddell.”
“Is that what you’re hoping to get out of this trip?”
Harriet nodded, smiled, and looked at the passing lawns. “Well, yes, that and … and a sense of accomplishment — doing something from start to finish.”
Dana pulled into the driveway and parked the minivan. “I’m sure you will. Maybe you already have and you just didn’t know it.”
Harriet patted Dana’s hand while it was still on the wheel. “Oh, I’ll know it when I feel it. But maybe that’s why I’m so anxious for Henry and Prudence to have a baby. I felt God’s pleasure at times when Henry was young — you know, when I was raising him. I’m sure you know what I mean. I certainly did something from start to finish then.” She laughed. “But now I’m doing something even more courageous that’s mine — alone.”
Dana looked away from Harriet. “Chaz and I never had children.”
“Oh dear,” Harriet said as a flush of embarrassment swept over her. “I’m sorry. I just thought with a house so large and this … this what do you call it? Minivan?”
“It’s okay. The Lord just hasn’t seen fit to bless us that way. But we are blessed in so many others.”
Harriet touched her hand. “I know you have blessed me.”
Dana smiled. “But I think I know what you mean. I feel joyful when I take care of folks like you, Harriet. Now why don’t you go take a rest? I’ll call you when lunch is ready. Chaz always makes something spectacular for Sunday lunch. We serve it a little later and make it the main meal of the day. On Sundays our B&B becomes a BLT.”
“BLT?”
“Breakfast, lunch, and talking. We tend to sit around gabbing the afternoon away.”
Harriet climbed out of the van. “I can’t wait.”
She went to her room and promptly called Martha to tell her all about church and the inn.
“It’s been spectacular. You would have loved the church. Very nice, inviting folks.”
“Oh, Harriet,” Martha said, her voice getting soft. “At first I thought what you were doing was crazy and I was worried about you, but now I think I might be a little jealous.”
“You can make this trip too. Just do it.”
“I just might,” Martha said. “Maybe we could go together. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Lunch was served at 2:00 p.m. Harriet had changed out of her flowery dress and put on her new jeans and a green blouse with her red Chucks. The other guests had still not arrived, although she saw the honeymoon couple in the front parlor. They seemed to be quarreling.
“I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t dress for the fancy lunch,” Harriet said as she sat at the table.
“Of course not,” Dana said. “It’s fine for us, but … well, don’t get upset, but Chaz did something.”
“What?” Harriet said.
“It’s just that Chaz invited his friend Sterling Harrison to join us.”
Harriet opened her napkin and slid it across her lap. “Now, Dana dear, I hope you aren’t trying to set me up on a date.”
“No, nothing like that. Sterling is a reporter for the local paper here. Chaz was so enamored with your story he thought Sterling might like to interview you for a feature article.”
Harriet felt her heart rate jump to the speed of a startled squirrel. “What? Really, but … but I don’t know if I want to be in the paper. I mean I’m just taking a trip is all. A very slow trip across the country. I’m far from newsworthy.”
That was when Chaz and a tall man with a close-kept, grayish beard walked into the room. Chaz carried a tray with several fruit cups on it. “That’s just it,” Chaz said. “Sterling thinks your story will make a great human-interest piece.”
Harriet sipped and swallowed her water. “Really? Me? I’m just little old Harriet Beamer from Pennsylvania. Not like I saved anyone’s life or anything.”
Sterling sat across from Harriet. Dana placed the fruit cups at the settings. The other guests in the house, an older couple visiting relatives, joined them.
Dana introduced the older couple to Harriet and the young honeymooners. “This is Steve and Laura Grant,” she said. The couple waved and sat at the table.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Harriet said.
“So tell me, Harriet, how did your odyssey begin?” Sterling asked.
“Odyssey?” she said. “I wouldn’t exactly call it that. It’s just a trip, maybe an adventure. Leastways that’s what I’ve been calling it. An adventure. A woman my age doesn’t get many adventures.”
Sterling pulled out a small recorder from his shirt pocket. “I hope you don’t mind me recording this. It’s less distracting than writing it all down on one of those reporter’s notebooks.”
“Reporter?” Laura asked.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Dana said. And she explained all about Harriet.
“I think that’s marvelous,” Laura said. “Just marvelous. More power to you, sister.” And she raised her water glass to Harriet.
“Thank you.” Harriet smiled. “You should try it sometime.” She looked at Steve. He didn’t appear to be the adventuring type.
“So Harriet,” Sterling said, “may
I ask your age?”
Harriet looked him square in the eye. She pushed her glasses onto her nose and said, “Seventy-two, no … seventy-two and a half.”
Harriet looked around the table. All eyes were glued to her like flies to sticky paper.
“You look much younger,” Laura said.
Harriet beamed. “Thank you.”
Sterling adjusted his chair and smiled at Harriet. His smile made her feel more at ease. “Now please, tell me your story — from the beginning.”
“Well, if you can imagine, a broken ankle — my broken ankle — started the whole thing. My daughter-in-law, Prudence, insisted it was broken, and I really didn’t think it was — or at least I didn’t want to believe it. I thought it was a sprain, but the way Humphrey was acting, I shoulda known it was something bad.”
“Humphrey?” Sterling said.
“Oh, my dog. He’s a basset hound. I miss him. I sent him on ahead to Henry and Prudence. On the plane.”
“Oh, okay,” Sterling said. “I guess it would have been impossible to bring him.”
Harriet chuckled. “Oh, heavens to Betsy, Son, that would have been impossible. It’s hard enough pulling my wheely suitcase around what with bumpy pavements and potholes everywhere. And did you know you can’t bring a dog on the Greyhound? Now isn’t that just a wee bit ironic?”
The guests laughed.
“Anyhoo,” Harriet continued. “Prudence suggested this silly bet, and I lost.”
“Sounds like a sucker’s bet,” Chaz said.
“It sure was,” Harriet said.
“What were the stakes?” Sterling asked. “A trip across the country? Seems to me that would be a bet you’d want to lose.”
“No, it was a little more involved than that. I put my house on the line. If it was broken — my ankle, not the house — then I had to sell the house and move to Grass Valley. Now, I knew it was a sucker’s bet, but I did it anyway. And now here I am traveling across the country by any means of public transportation I can find.”
At half past noon, Prudence returned from church. Henry heard the front door slam. Humphrey’s ears perked and then returned to their usual flop-sidedness.
