A Timely Vision mpm-1

by Joyce Lavene

  My mother also used to say if there was a penny anywhere on the ground five miles around me, I’d find it. She was right. Not everything I found had great value. Sometimes a piece of junk was just a piece of junk.

  “This is the most interesting piece.” The shopper carefully placed the lighthouse sugar bowl on the counter. “I’ve never seen anything like it. And this music box! You know, I swear I’ve seen it before. Where did you get it?”

  I looked at her. Assessing her, I guess. Hoping she’d be the one to take good care of these important items. The treasures I sold mattered to me, and they all needed good homes. For most of them, there came a time when they had to leave me. That’s how we all survived.

  I told her the story of how I came to have the sugar bowl and the music box. She listened in rapt attention until I’d finished. “I’m glad you like them. I think you’ll give them a good home.”

  “Of course I will.” She smiled, her even white teeth too bright to be natural. “How much do I owe you?”

  I quoted her an astounding price, probably an indecent price, but one I knew she’d pay. I could see it in her eyes. When she handed me her Visa card, she met my third qualification for ownership. I didn’t charge high prices for everything, but the really special stuff was too important to let go cheap.

  “I hope you enjoy them as much as I have.” I carefully wrapped her pieces in white tissue paper. “I’ve had them for a while. I’m glad someone finally noticed them.”

  Of course she gave me that you’re-a-crazy-person look, but that was okay. She’d passed my tests. I didn’t mind what she thought of me.

  The other people in the shop bought trinkets, nothing of great value. Some of the things I collect for Missing Pieces are donations from people who want to get rid of stuff, like after the church rummage sale. I never develop feelings for those things, not like for the ones I find.

  Once all the customers had left, I looked at the UPS packages I’d picked up outside. Adding the UPS franchise to Missing Pieces was a way to bring in some extra money. There weren’t a lot of shipments to and from Duck, but when they came through, they came here. I was proud of that.

  I looked up from the boxes as I heard the shop door open. A scruffy young man with what my grandfather would call a roving eye walked in and asked about a job. I didn’t recognize him as being a regular shopper or a Duck resident, but there was something about him that intrigued me. I shrugged it off after he asked me if something was wrong and I realized I’d been staring at him for too long. I told him I was sorry but I didn’t have anything for him. He smirked and left the shop.

  “It can’t get much hotter out there.” My grandfather came in right after him. “Who was that?”

  “I don’t know. Just somebody looking for a job.”

  He wiped the sweat from his forehead with a red rag before he replaced his straw hat on his thick white hair. “Lots of shoppers in Duck. Have you sold anything?”

  “A few things.” I couldn’t keep it from him. “The lighthouse sugar bowl and the rosewood music box.”

  “I hope you got what they’re worth.”

  I quoted him the price, and he whistled through his teeth. “You knew I wouldn’t let them go for less.”

  “I knew.” He hugged me as he reached the counter. “Ready for your close-up, Miss Mayor?”

  “I suppose so.” I smoothed down my shorts and picked up the oversized mayor’s coat again. “I don’t think they had this in mind for a woman mayor. I think the town council might need to consider changing this tradition.”

  He held one side of the coat for me. “You mean you should get special treatment because you’re a woman? I thought you hated that kind of thing.”

  “No. I should get a smaller coat because this one could fit Councilman Wilson, all six foot four, three hundred pounds of him. It’s a little big on me by almost a foot and two hundred pounds.”

  “Come on now! The council had it tailored for you. It’s not that big.”

  I wrapped the coat around me, flipped up the red ribbons and gold coins, then faced him. The sleeves were past my wrists, and my torso was swallowed by the coat. “I think they thought the first mayor would be a man, Gramps.”

  He laughed. “Maybe you do need something a little different, Dae. But not right now. You’ll have to wow them with your personality.”

  “Thanks.” I tried to adjust the coat again. No use. It was big and bulky, no way to make it less so. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

  “Never mind that.” He ran his hand down the side of my hair. “You look like your mother. Those big blue eyes and your hair all bleached out from the sun.”

  “And a coat that’s too big.” I grinned so I wouldn’t tear up. Talking about my mother always brought both of us to tears, even though it had been many years since her death. “I can’t cry right now. You don’t want my face to be all blotchy on local TV, do you?”

  “You go ahead. I’ll mind the shop. There’s not much fishing going on right now with all the swimmers and surfers. Looks like a real high tide tonight. I hope there’s not a storm coming.”

  “Nah. Not today. My storm knee isn’t bothering me. Remember not to sell anything marked with a red tag.”

  “I know. Get their names. Get their phone numbers. If they pass inspection, you’ll sell your treasures. If not, they’ll have to find some others.”

  “That’s right. I’ll see you in a while.”

  I swept out the door with all the energy of a damp sponge. It was too hot for anything more. A breeze had come up from the Atlantic in the thirty minutes or so I’d been inside. Gramps was right. It smelled like a storm was brewing. So why wasn’t my storm knee bothering me? Ever since I’d dislocated it surfing when I was fourteen, it had let me know when a storm was coming.

  “Over here, Mayor O’Donnell.” A friendly faced man beckoned me into the Duck Shoppes parking lot. Cars were starting to move again after the parade. “I thought we’d shoot out here. That way everyone gets a good look at Duck at the same time they get to meet you.”

  “That’s a great idea.” I looked around at the crowd swarming along Duck Road and across the sidewalk. The rough material of the large mayor’s coat made my neck itch. It was too hot for anything except sandals and shorts, but this was what the people of Duck expected the mayor to wear on the Fourth of July. I reminded myself that it was probably no hotter today than it had been for the pirates who’d dressed like this and they’d survived.

  “Mayor, we have to do something to protect the new crop of sea turtle eggs on the beach,” Mary Lou Harcourt advised me as I stopped where the TV producer told me to stand. Her craggy gray eyebrows were knit together across her forehead like a headband.

  “I don’t know what we can do about them right now,” I answered, distracted.

  “There’s an extra-high tide coming, and the eggs could be washed away,” she persisted. “We have to get everyone together. We’ll save as many as possible.”

  “As soon as I get done here,” I promised, knowing full well I’d have to go check on Miss Elizabeth first. “What time is high tide?”

  “The paper said six P.M., but the almanac says five. I’d trust the almanac before the paper. Do you think you can get the volunteer fire department to help out?”

  “That’s a good idea, Mary Lou. You should go talk to Gramps. He’s at the shop. I’m sure he’ll have some ideas.”

  The producer of the news show that originated in Virginia Beach counted down as the cameraman prepared to film me with the show’s host. A small crowd of people, mostly citizens of Duck, gathered around to watch what was happening. It wasn’t everyday TV shows were interested enough to come down here.

  “Just relax, Mayor O’Donnell.” The show’s host, Jerry Richards, was a reed thin man with gray-streaked black hair. He wore a white suit and a blue “Duck, NC” T-shirt. “You’ll be fine.”

  “I’m sure I will.” I tried to reach the spot on the back of my neck that began
itching like fire as I started sweating, but it was no use. “I hope I don’t look like an idiot.”

  “Not on my show!”

  The taping went very smoothly considering people were giggling in the audience as I answered Jerry’s questions. The questions were simple enough: Where was Duck located? How long had I been mayor of Duck? What was the Fourth of July celebration like?

  After we’d talked, Jerry shook my hand and thanked me for the interview. I was kind of impressed since I’d watched him on TV most of my life. But I couldn’t wait to get back inside and change out of the mayor’s coat. Even though the breeze had picked up, carrying with it the scent of the ocean, the temperature was still in the high nineties.

  “How did it go?” Gramps swiveled on the tall stool behind the register to look at me.

  “It went okay.” I stripped off the coat, medallions and ribbons again. A person could learn to hate wearing that outfit. Thank goodness it wasn’t something I had to wear everyday. “Sell anything?”

  “Nothing important. You don’t have to worry. Nothing you’ll miss left the shop.”

  “Do you think you could manage for a few more minutes? I promised Miss Mildred I’d go check on Miss Elizabeth.”

  “I thought I saw Millie leaving the shop earlier.” He shook his head. “What is it this time? Did she and Lizzie have another fight?”

  “She’s looking for her mama’s watch. Miss Mildred loaned it to Miss Elizabeth and wants it back. Funny thing about that. She told me it was lost. I looked and saw it on Miss Elizabeth’s arm. At least I think it was her arm. I didn’t think I’d see it since it’s not really lost.”

  “I wouldn’t mess around with it, Dae. Let them hash it out. You know how they are.”

  “I know. But I already promised. And it might be something serious. Miss Mildred said she hasn’t heard from her for a few days. I’d hate to ignore it and find out it was i mportant.”

  “Go on then. Just don’t blame me if someone buys your Roosevelt jelly jar by mistake.”

  “Gramps!”

  He laughed. “You know I wouldn’t let a thing like that happen. While you’re down that way, you could stop in and welcome the new owner of the Blue Whale Inn. I hear he’s from somewhere up north.”

  I checked my hair in a mirror I’d found in Cape Cod. It was a modern piece, probably not more than a few years old. It had intricate African carving around the wood handle and frame. I didn’t know what the symbols meant, but I knew it was something special. I kept it behind the counter since I had no plans to part with it.

  My hair was a mess from standing outside in the strong breeze. I ran my fingers through it, wishing I had a matching comb to go with the mirror. “Up north? You mean like Virginia Beach?”

  “No. Like New York. Or Boston. I took him out for a cruise. He’s an interesting man. Joined the Dare County Chamber of Commerce this week too.”

  “By interesting, you don’t mean single, do you? I know you aren’t ever planning on doing any matchmaking again after that last fiasco.”

  “What fiasco? You’re too skeptical, Dae. And too picky. At this rate, you’ll be too old to care when you meet that perfect man you’ve been looking for.”

  “I’ll have to hope he’s old too.” I smiled and opened the door to the boardwalk. “You just mind the shop and don’t worry about me finding someone. It’ll take care of itself.”

  I closed the door before I could hear his retort. It was always the same anyway. I knew Gramps worried about me, especially about leaving me alone. I couldn’t complain because he loved me. I only wished he was a little more careful about the men he tried to set me up with.

  It was a short walk to the Atlantic side of Duck where Miss Elizabeth lived in a slightly less grand style than her sister. Of course, it was a short walk to everywhere in Duck. It’s not a big place.

  The roses swooned in the heat around the white clapboard two-story whose windows were shrouded with lace curtains. Johnny Simpson might’ve been wild, but he’d left a nice house for his abandoned wife. Atop the roof, spinning in the afternoon breeze, was an old lightning rod made to look like a fisherman holding his fishing pole with a dog yapping at his heels.

  Now that was a treasure I’d like to get my hands on. I could feel it from where I stood in the front yard. My fingertips itched for it. But there was no way it would ever go anywhere as long as Miss Elizabeth was alive. The house and the lightning rod had been a fixture in Duck for longer than my thirty-six years. It was nice to know that some things didn’t change.

  I knocked on the front door, but there was no answer. I peeked through one of the ivory lace curtains. There wasn’t enough room to see inside. I walked around back, looking at the whitecaps growing on the gray ocean not so far from the house. My storm knee might not feel it, but the weather was getting angry.

  There was no sign of Miss Elizabeth around back either. A large pot of red geraniums sat near her neat, wrought-iron patio set. I looked in the kitchen window, pounded on the door and called her name. There was no answer except for the wind rushing through the old eaves.

  I thought seriously about breaking a pane of glass in the kitchen door and opening it. But that wasn’t something that sat well with the part of me that had taken the mayor’s oath of office. Especially since Chief Michaels was only a cell phone call away. He could break a window or do something to get into the house. It was important to delegate to the right individuals, something I was still struggling to learn.

  I turned back to take out my cell phone and almost walked into a man who’d been standing right behind me. I dropped my phone on the pink patio stones and watched it break into two pieces. It seemed to happen in slow motion. The whole slow-motion thing always took place right before an important find.

  “You aren’t trying to break in, are you?”

  Chapter 2

  “No. Of course not.” As I spoke, the feeling passed. I looked around, but I couldn’t see anything that even vaguely resembled my usual type of treasure. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you standing there.”

  “You were focused on getting in the house, I think. The lady who lives here hasn’t been home for a few days.”

  I looked at him. He seemed fairly ordinary. Maybe late thirties, like me. Darker hair and bluer eyes. Maybe not blue, more dark gray, like the ocean after a storm. I didn’t recognize him, but this time of year, there were plenty of people renting for the summer. “How do you know?”

  “I live next door.” He nodded, not taking his eyes off of me. It was an uncomfortable sensation. “I see her come and go all the time. A few days ago, she went out but she never came back.”

  His mouth was set in a firm line, giving him a kind of tough expression, as though he’d seen hard times. He was taller than me, maybe six feet, like Gramps. I could see the muscles of his chest beneath his Blue Whale T-shirt. “Oh, you must be the new man.” I put out my hand. “I’m Dae O’Donnell, mayor of Duck. I’d heard the inn had a new owner.”

  I wondered for just a breath if he was going to take my hand. Gramps was right. He wasn’t from anywhere around Duck.

  Then he put his hand in mine. “Sorry. Force of habit, I guess. It’s hard to get over all of you people being so friendly down here. Where I come from, we don’t shake hands unless we know we’ll get our fingers back. Kevin Brickman.”

  Despite the tough expression, he had a nice face. Plenty of smile lines around his eyes. Maybe the slightest hint of sadness there too. “Where are you from?”

  “I’ve lived in Washington, D.C., for the past few years. It’s very different there.”

  “And what brings you to Duck?”

  “I was looking for a career change. I saw the inn for sale in the paper. It sounded like the right place for me.”

  “You must be a do-it-yourselfer to take on the inn,” I joked. “I think it was originally built by pirates in the 1600s and has never been restored.”

  “I like a challenge.”

  I bent down to pic
k up my cell phone. He was already there. “No damage done.” He put it back together. “The battery popped out. Were you about to call the police? I thought about it this morning when I saw she still wasn’t back. But I don’t really know anyone well enough to know their habits.”

  I thanked him and took the phone. “Miss Elizabeth seems to have gone missing. She likes to go for long walks, and she’s a little forgetful about how long she’s been gone. I’m sure she stopped off at a friend’s house or something. But I think I’ll call Chief Michaels. He’s the head of the Duck Police Department. He’ll find her.”

  “I was surprised to find out Duck had its own police department. How many officers on the force?”

  “Five officers this year. Well, one of them is part-time. But as you can imagine, we don’t get a lot of serious crime in Duck. Most of our problems happen over the summer when the renters are here. The rest of the time it’s quiet. We like it that way.”

  “Me too. That’s one of Duck’s most attractive features. I like my privacy.”

  He smiled a little, and I could feel his eyes assessing me again. Not in a sexual way, like a lot of men might, but in a questioning manner, as though he were wondering who I really was. It occurred to me that if Gramps had met him he’d probably told him all about me, including what a marital catch I’d be. He was probably wondering what kind of woman lets her grandfather look for eligible bachelors for her.

  “Well, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Brickman—”

  “Kevin. It was nice meeting you, Mayor O’Donnell. I hope you find Miss Elizabeth before the storm.”

  “I’m sure we will.” I glanced at the old hulk of the Blue Whale Inn next door. Only a hint of the slate blue color that gave the inn its name remained on the clapboard. “Call me Dae, please. Everyone does. Good luck renovating the inn.”

  With a mixture of interest and surprise, I watched him walk away from Miss Elizabeth’s house and back toward the inn. There weren’t a lot of good-looking, youngish (not high school or college students) single men who lived full-time in Duck. It was going to be fun to watch what happened once the ladies in the community met him.