by Anna Schmidt
“Nola, child,” she heard Judy Lang cry out. Then Nola heard Judy direct her distress at Harry. “What have you done?”
“I…It was an accident,” he sputtered. Nola smiled because he sounded so much like her brothers when they’d all been teenagers and defended themselves against their mother’s outrage.
“I apparently walked into a board,” Nola explained weakly, surprised to realize that she had more recollection of the incident than she had first thought. She frowned as the memory of her argument with Harry came back to her. “We’ll have to shut down the tearoom for a few days,” she told Judy. “You can’t do it all alone and Mr. Starbuck needs—”
“What Mr. Starbuck needs,” Judy huffed, “is to hold his horses. The world is not going to come to an end if he has to give up the reins for a few days.” Once again, she turned her ire on Harry. “These young people kicked out of Nola’s perfectly good rooms and moved into those musty old fishing shacks. What do you care where they sleep and more to the point, if they want to wait tables and such on their own time, I’d like to know how that is any of your business.”
This tirade accompanied the transport of Nola from the dray, up the front walk and into her bedroom. Because Harry and the driver were carrying Nola on the makeshift gurney, he could hardly escape Judy’s rant. Since he was at her feet, Nola could see him and observe the fact that more than once he had opened his mouth to protest Judy’s accusations and then shut it again until now it formed a thin hard line across the lower half of his face.
Under the guidance of Dr. Wainwright, Harry and the driver transferred her onto the bed and the driver took the board and left the room.
“You come waltzing back into town thinking because you’ve made yourself a pile of money, people will forget all the mischief you used to get into when you were a kid,” Judy continued as she bustled about, removing Nola’s shoes, gloves and hat and setting them aside. “Seems to me you haven’t changed one bit. Still stirring up trouble and now see what it’s come to?”
“Perhaps, Mr. Starbuck,” the doctor said quietly, “it would be best if you waited in the outer room while I examine Miss Burns.”
Judy took this as her signal to escort Harry to the door and shut it firmly behind him.
“You mustn’t blame Harry,” Nola said softly when Judy returned to the side of the bed and followed the doctor’s lead in helping Nola sit up enough so that they could remove her jacket and loosen the rest of her clothing.
“You let me handle that young man and the rest of it,” Judy said, her voice soft and soothing now. “You just concentrate on following the doctor’s orders and getting your rest.”
It was a mark of how terrible Nola was feeling that this seemed like a good idea. She could barely focus on keeping her eyes open much less on how Judy was going to manage the tearoom for the foreseeable future. She heard the doctor say that there was no sign of concussion, but fell back asleep before she could make heads or tails of the instructions about diet, medication and symptoms to watch for that the doctor was dictating to Judy.
When she woke, the doctor was gone. She was now dressed in her nightgown, her hair pulled into a loose braid. She vaguely recalled trying to cooperate as Ellie helped Judy change her into her nightclothes, but she’d been more like a rag doll than any real help. Outside it was still daylight but whether the same day or the next, Nola could not say. Beyond the closed door of her bedroom, she heard voices.
“I’ll be glad to say you called,” Ellie was telling someone.
“Young woman, do you have any idea who I am?” The unmistakable boom of Rose Gillenwater’s normal speaking voice penetrated the solid wood door. “Miss Nola’s mother was one of my dearest friends and since her passing—may God rest her soul—I have taken my responsibility to her children to heart. Now I have no idea why someone did not send for me the moment this happened yesterday morning, but I am here now and I will see her.”
So it was now Tuesday, Nola thought, realizing that she had lost an entire night and day. The tearoom, she thought. Judy can’t manage that and also care for me. Nola decided that she would get rid of Rose as quickly as possible and then see about getting some help for Judy.
“Ellie,” she called, her voice coming out in a croak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Ellie, it’s all right.”
“There, you see,” Rose said dismissively as she opened the door and swept into the room. “Child, what were you thinking?” she demanded the moment she set eyes on Nola. “One simply does not—”
“Hello, Mrs. Gillenwater. How nice of you to come by. Have you and Mrs. Chambliss been formally introduced?” Nola indicated Ellie, who stood just inside the door, a worried frown marring her otherwise perfect features.
“Yes, yes.” Rose leaned closer and whispered, “I will see to organizing proper care for you the moment I leave here, Nola. In the meantime…”
“Oh, Rose, Ellie is not hired help—well, she is…was. But she’s quite famous in the New York theater. Aren’t we fortunate that she has decided to come here to ’Sconset and give us all the opportunity to enjoy her talents?”
Rose sniffed. “I’m sure she’s quite the star in certain circles,” she said with a token smile thrown in Ellie’s direction, “but hardly the person who should be attending you in your hour of need, dear Nola. I can’t imagine what Dr. Wainwright was thinking. I’ve asked Mr. Gillenwater to consult with our personal physician in the city—perhaps we should bring an authentic medical professional here to examine you.”
“I have been examined, Rose, and as you can see, I am improving hourly.” She pushed herself higher onto the pillows and immediately Ellie was there to adjust them to her comfort. “What I really need is for you and the other ladies of the church to use your considerable resources to help me find staffing for the tearoom as soon as possible. We may have had to close for a day or so, but…”
Rose’s eyebrows shot up. “The tearoom is open, Nola,” she said and frowned at Ellie. “I simply assumed that…”
Nola shot Ellie a glance.
“Harry told us to help out,” Ellie explained.
“Harry did that?” Nola asked. For me?
“The man’s clearly feeling guilty for having been the cause of your injuries, Nola,” Rose announced, taking the glow off Nola’s pleasure by stating the obvious truth.
“Thank him for me,” Nola said to Ellie. “And tell him I’ll see to other arrangements as soon as possible.”
“Thank him yourself,” Ellie replied with a smile. “He comes by here practically every hour to be sure you’re all right.” She nodded toward a large vase filled with a display of spring flowers on her dresser. “He brought those on his last visit.”
“Guilt, guilt, guilt,” Rose murmured. “I shall tell Mr. Starbuck that his concern is unwarranted, Nola, and unseemly. You’re a single woman, after all.”
“And he’s a single man,” Ellie blurted, clearly not seeing the problem.
“Precisely,” Rose announced as if she had finally gotten through to Ellie. “I do not know—or care to know—how things are managed in your world, Mrs. Chambliss. In our social circle, there is a certain code of behavior that women like Nola must adhere to or risk losing not only their standing in the business community but the respect of the populace in general. This dear woman has already placed her spotless reputation in jeopardy for you people.” She bent and gave Nola a dry kiss on the forehead. “Do watch yourself, Nola. In your weakened state I would hate to see you mistake that rake’s attention for true concern.” Without so much as a glance at Ellie, Rose exited the room as if outside the door lay souls to be saved.
Nola glanced up apologetically at Ellie and was surprised when the actress burst into laughter. “She’s like a character out of a badly scripted play,” she managed between peals of laughter. Nola couldn’t help but join in, but before either woman could recover from their fresh onset of mirth, Harry Starbuck stepped into the doorway.
“Feeling better
?” He remained standing near the doorway while Ellie sat down in the rocker across the room and picked up some mending.
“Yes, thank you.” Nola pulled the covers higher. It was one thing to think of Harry in her bedroom when she was fully dressed, unconscious with a possible concussion and surrounded by others. It was quite something else to have him there with just Ellie as chaperone. She could just imagine what Rose Gillenwater would say.
Rose! Harry had to have been standing outside the door when the older woman left. Rose would have seen him. And he in turn would have overheard the matriarch’s insults to Ellie.
“Has the doctor been by this afternoon?” he asked, glancing around the room, looking anywhere but directly at her.
Casual conversation? No, look at him. He seems upset.
“She was here,” Ellie said. “Nola is to try getting up for a little while beginning tomorrow. If that goes well, within a few days she should be good as new.”
Harry didn’t really seem to be paying attention. He was scowling, not at Ellie or her, but at the floor. Nola rushed to fill the silence. “Ellie tells me that you’ve given the troupe permission to help Judy until I can get back to work. I assure you that they’ll be free of me and this place within a few days.”
“There’s no reason we can’t rehearse in the morning and evening. Since I often have other business that needs attention, it’s a good plan, Nola.” Harry looked directly at her for the first time and studied her for so long that Nola could not bear his examination and turned her attention to the window.
“It appears to be a lovely day,” she said, all too aware that Harry had fully entered the room and was now sitting on the stool in front of her dressing table.
“Do you agree with the Gillenwater woman, Nola? Has your association with us truly damaged your reputation with the townspeople?”
Ellie glanced up for the first time but immediately returned to her sewing.
“Oh, Harry, no,” Nola assured him. “There are always going to be those who are overly protective, but they’ll come around in time.”
“But if I hadn’t provoked you, you never would have been at the cabaret and none of this would have happened.”
“It was an accident. In fact I probably was at least partially to blame, not looking where I was going and…”
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Take responsibility even when you are the victim?”
“I am hardly a victim, Harry. It was an accident. Please don’t concern yourself with…”
Harry grinned down at her. “Ah, yes, you’ve been warned not to take my concern seriously, I believe.”
So he had also heard that part. “Mrs. Gillenwater can be…” Nola searched for a suitable word while Harry leaped in with several suggestions.
“Overbearing? Autocratic? Domineering?”
Nola permitted a smile and she heard Ellie chuckle. “I was going to say ‘difficult.’ She can certainly make her opinions known but it is always done in the interest of maintaining decorum. She’s a pillar of the community and the church,” Nola reminded them both sternly. “And aside from all that she has been very good to my family and to me.”
“And she allows no room for alternative opinions or ideas,” Harry said. “Take faith, for example.”
“Surely you cannot question her devotion to the church,” Nola exclaimed.
Harry shrugged. “The way I see it the lessons in the Bible are all about love—loving your neighbor, loving people who are different, loving those less fortunate, less educated. Rose Gillenwater is certainly a pious woman, but she doesn’t strike me as a loving woman.”
And how do I strike you?
Nola suppressed that thought and instead said, “The Bible also suggests we not judge one another.”
Harry leaned forward, his eyes alight with interest. “That’s exactly what I was thinking about when I wrote the play. God’s love is universal—it’s the very reason those who fall away always have the choice to return to God—but that all comes with responsibility.”
“You have this habit of changing subjects in the middle of a conversation, Harry. It can be most unsettling.”
“I am not changing the subject at all. Take you, for example. If I had known you then I might have been modeling the lead character on you. You take responsibility very seriously—some would say too seriously. You raise your siblings, you manage this business and Oliver says he can’t recall your ever missing a Sunday playing for services.”
“Honestly, Harry, you make me sound as regimented as some spinster schoolmarm.” Nola’s head was beginning to throb and she was having trouble concentrating. She reached for the glass of water on her nightstand.
Simultaneously Ellie and Harry rushed forward to get the water for her, but Harry was closer. When he handed her the glass there was no choice but to brush his fingers with her own.
“I don’t think anything of the sort,” he said as he steadied the glass in her hand and then immediately stepped away, turning his back to give Ellie time to take the glass from her and then assist in rearranging the covers. “Look, I’m well aware that there are many people in this community who are less than thrilled to have the actors here. Some don’t even want me here, but this is my home, too, Nola, and I believe that what I am trying to do will not only enrich my life. It will enrich the lives of everyone who lives here.”
Nola opened her mouth to protest, then closed it. She would not insult him with platitudes. “People don’t always care that much about money, Harry.”
“I’m not talking about money. I’m talking about progress, about change. It’s inevitable but it can be shaped to the best advantage of those it affects.”
“And yet people often struggle when things start to change too quickly,” she said.
“This isn’t just about changing old ways into new or bringing in more modern ideas,” he said. “It’s important that you understand that for me the theater is more than just a hobby or diversion, Nola.”
“Why?”
“Because live theater has the power to teach, to inspire, to provoke thought and action. It can change the way people decide to live their lives.”
“I suspect Nola is asking you why is it important that she specifically understand?” Ellie said, and it was clear from the curious expression in her eyes that she was also interested in that answer.
He glanced toward Ellie and then back at Nola. “I’m not sure,” he muttered and Nola caught Ellie’s hint of a smile as she stood and put her mending aside.
“Well, the important thing for Nola at the moment is rest. Come along, Harry,” she ordered as she escorted him to the door.
“Of course,” Harry said, retrieving his hat from Nola’s dresser. “I’ll stop back tomorrow, if that’s all right.”
“I’d like that,” Nola replied and meant it.
Back in his office, Harry forced his attention to the pile of invoices and pending orders for supplies that were stacked in neat piles on his desk. Deliberately he set aside the most recent version of the script. He checked the charges from one vendor, then compared bids from three others, all the while forcing himself to concentrate against the memory of Nola’s wistful voice.
I’d like that.
“Hey, you there!”
Ian McAllister’s gruff voice interrupted Harry’s reverie. Harry stepped out onto his landing in time to see Ian chasing a gang of three older boys down the lane.
“Ian? Everything all right?”
Ian was breathing heavily as he gave up the chase. “Too much time on their hands,” he called up to Harry. “Used to be they’d just turn the rain barrel over or some such mischief at night. Now they’ve gotten brazen enough to pull that stuff in broad daylight.”
Harry went down to help Ian turn the barrel upright again and noticed a cracked pane in the rear window of Ian’s store. “They did this, as well?”
“Not sure. I found that a couple of days ago when I was ope
ning up. Just haven’t had the time to get it fixed.”
“I’ll ask Jonah to stop by and replace the glass,” Harry offered. “Did you report the damage?”
Ian shrugged. “Yeah. I spoke to Officer Daniels and he said he’d step up night patrols, but I intend to make sure everything’s locked up tight and I’d suggest you do the same, Harry.”
As he returned to his office, Harry couldn’t help thinking that he was glad Nola was in the habit of locking up no matter what time of day it was.
Chapter Eleven
There was one advantage to being forced to stay in bed. Nola had little to do but enjoy the view from her open window and think. The late June breeze stirred the lace curtains carrying the scent of roses and lavender her way. On the other hand, the open window also gave her access to the conversation of others who passed by on their way to the beach or to shop in town.
“We should go here for lunch one day,” a young female voice commented and Nola felt the usual glow of pride in her establishment.
“That place is for old people. My grandmother goes there,” the companion replied.
“Yeah,” a third voice chimed in. “We need a place where we can go with those Gillenwater boys we met on the beach yesterday.”
“My mother said I was to stay clear of those boys,” the first girl said.
“Parents always warn you to stay away from the interesting ones,” the first girl sighed. “If there were only something to do—an ice cream parlor where we could go without having to make excuses,” she moaned as they moved on down the street and their voices faded into distant laughter.
Restless with the boredom of her confinement, Nola’s thoughts turned as always to business. The girls had a point. Although most of her patrons were summer visitors, she couldn’t help admitting that unless they came in with their parents or grandparents, she had seen almost no young people this season. Those who had come for lunch or tea had clearly been there under duress as their elders insisted on sharing the memories of their own youth.
