Memories from Acorn Hill

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Memories from Acorn Hill Page 11

by Melody Carlson


  “Well, I guess I can’t complain,” she said. “At least I’ve seen and done a lot in my lifetime. I always tell my daughter whenever she complains that I’m traveling too much, you only live once and you might as well do it with flair.”

  “You’ve certainly done that,” said Alice.

  “How about you?” Mattie turned her attention to Alice now. “What have you been up to all these years?”

  Alice felt that her life would sound dull and boring compared to what she had just heard, but she had no reason to make it seem bigger than it was. It was not as if she was ashamed of her life.

  “Don’t let Alice fool you,” said Mark. “Acorn Hill is a delightful place to live. And, believe me, that so-called quiet little town of hers is full of all kinds of funny adventures and excitement.”

  “Oh, I don’t know …”

  “We do have our share of adventures,” admitted Alice. “And it’s rather nice living in a town where everyone knows you.”

  “And were you serious about what you said in the grocery store?” asked Mattie. “Do you really intend to boil all those dozens of eggs and then dye them for an Easter egg hunt?”

  “That’s right,” said Alice. “My mother started doing this when Louise and I were just little girls, and I started it up again when I moved back to Acorn Hill. We’ve been doing it ever since. It has grown and has become a local tradition.”

  “Well, it sounds like fun. I might have to come over and see all this for myself,” said Mattie.

  “You’re most welcome,” said Alice.

  “And then I can see your little inn too.” Mattie nodded. “In fact, that’s just what I think I’ll do. I’ll drive over next Saturday.”

  “Good,” said Alice. “Perhaps you’d like to join us for dinner at the inn that night.”

  “Now that would be nice.”

  “Alice’s sister Jane used to be a professional chef in San Francisco,” said Mark. “You won’t be disappointed.”

  “Well, this just gets better and better.” Mattie smiled. “Please, count me in.”

  They visited a bit more, then Alice grew concerned about the eggs in the back of Mark’s Range Rover. “We probably should get those groceries home,” she said to Mark.

  He nodded. “Yes, we sure don’t want to take the chance of making anyone ill.”

  “See you on Saturday,” called out Mattie.

  Alice was not sure why she felt slightly down as Mark drove them back to Acorn Hill. It was not as if she was jealous of the exciting life that Mattie had led, and yet something about their conversation did trouble her.

  “That Mattie is quite a gal,” said Mark in a voice that sounded as if he was not so sure.

  “She certainly has led an interesting life,” agreed Alice.

  “Although she doesn’t really seem happy,” he observed.

  “You don’t think so?” Alice considered this. “She puts on a good show of it. She’s done and seen so much.”

  “Lots of people are like that, Alice. They try to make things seem bigger and brighter than they actually are. I guess it makes them feel better, even if it’s only briefly.”

  “That is an interesting observation.”

  “That’s what I like about you, Alice.”

  She turned and looked at him. “What?”

  “You’re the real deal.”

  She smiled. “The real deal?”

  He nodded. “If you ask me, that’s worth a whole lot more than all the diamonds and cruises in the world.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Oh, good,” said Jane as Alice and Mark brought in the groceries. “It looks as though you bought the eggs at the special price too. Goodness, I hope I cleared enough space in the refrigerator for them.” She turned to Mark. “By the way, Adam’s been asking when you were getting back.”

  He nodded. “Yes, I told him we’d do something together this afternoon. I better go find him now.”

  After he left, Jane told Alice that the Winstons had taken a day trip to the Amish country. “I think they were trying to get Laura away from Adam today,” she admitted as she put away the last carton of eggs.

  “Oh dear,” said Alice. “I feel so bad when it seems that guests aren’t feeling comfortable at the inn.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Jane. “It’s not as if it’s your fault.”

  Alice nodded. “I know you’re right, but I just feel responsible. How did Laura seem?”

  “Quiet.” Jane checked her oven. “I felt sorry for her as her parents hauled her away. I mean, she’s seventeen going on eighteen, in her last year of high school, and here she is stuck spending spring break with her parents in a town where the most lively activities include choir practice and quilting bees.”

  Alice frowned. “Poor Laura.”

  “It’s no wonder that she likes hanging with Adam. At least he’s closer to her age, and they certainly seem to get along well.”

  “Although he’s perhaps not the best influence.”

  “Maybe not.” Jane pointed to Alice’s new shoes. “Nice. How are your feet feeling?”

  “Better. But I think I’ll go upstairs and give them a rest.” She glanced around the kitchen. “That is, unless, you need help with anything?”

  “Nah, not much going right now. You go put your feet up.”

  “I was hoping to work on my quilt.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Alice became so absorbed working on the baby quilt that she actually lost track of the passing hours. When she finally glanced at her clock, she saw that it was time for her to go down and help Jane with dinner preparations. She stood up and stretched. She wondered if Mark and Adam were back yet. Mark had hoped to join them for the evening meal. She freshened up and changed into an outfit she usually reserved for church. Jane thought that the caramel-colored sweater looked nice on Alice. She paused in front of her bureau mirror and remembered Mattie’s words earlier today: “Every little bit helps when we get to be this age.”

  Alice’s goal had always been to grow old gracefully, which, to her, meant allowing nature to take its course. She looked at her graying hair and slightly sagging chin and sighed. Under normal circumstances, these signs of aging did not trouble her in the least, but tonight they seemed more noticeable. She looked closer, wondering what had happened to the red-haired girl who used to be able to keep up with the boys.Then she smiled, knowing that the girl was still in there. After all, Alice’s spirit had not aged at all. That was what really counted.

  Alice headed down the stairs with a bit more bounce in her step.

  “Oh, there you are,” said Jane when they met on the second landing. “I was just doing a quick turndown and truffle drop.”

  “The old turndown and truffle drop,” teased Alice. “Sounds like something an acrobat in the circus might do.”

  “Yes,” said Jane. “I am quite spry for my age.”

  “Age …” Alice sighed. “I’m trying not to think about it too much. Isn’t it just a number anyway?”

  Jane laughed. “I should think you’d be feeling like a young girl these days, Alice, with Mark paying you all this special attention.”

  Alice was just about to tell Jane about Mattie when they reached the foyer, and Jane paused to look at a large vase of yellow roses. “Where did these come from?”

  Alice looked more closely at the roses. “They are beautiful, aren’t they?”

  “I’ll say.” Jane spotted a small white envelope tucked into the back of the arrangement. “They’re from Wild Things. Oh, that must’ve been why I saw Craig Tracy’s van on the street this afternoon. I was working in my herb bed.” She handed Alice the card. “They’re for you.”

  Alice recognized the handwriting on the envelope. The bouquet was from Mark. She pulled out a card and read the simple message.

  Dear Alice,

  Sorry about yesterday’s horrible hike.

  Warmly,

  Mark

  “So what is it?” demanded
Jane. “A proclamation of undying love? A proposal? An invitation to a secret marriage ceremony?”

  Alice laughed. “Hardly.” She handed Jane the note. “Just a sweet apology. Goodness, he didn’t need to go to such trouble.” Then she bent down to smell the flowers. “Although I do love yellow roses.”

  “Look,” said Jane pointing to a single red rose. “There’s one red one too.” She thought a minute. “You know, Alice, yellow roses are symbolic of friendship, but red is supposed to be for true love. Do you think this bouquet is meant to have some sort of message?” Jane counted the roses. “Eleven yellows, and one red. Hmmm?”

  “Maybe Craig was short on yellow roses,” suggested Alice. “So he stuck in a red one to make a full dozen.”

  “That’s unlikely. Roses usually come in to shops by the dozen. No, Alice, here’s what I think,” said Jane as they walked toward the kitchen. “I think that Mark is assuring you of his friendship, and that’s important, but the single red rose is meant to be like a question mark—as if he’s asking whether or not you still love him.”

  “Oh, I don’t think …”

  “Just consider it, Alice. It makes perfect sense.”

  They were in the kitchen now, and Alice turned to the sink to wash her hands, her regular practice before she helped Jane, but perhaps she was doing a bit more thorough job than usual. She knew it was an attempt to avoid Jane’s prying questions. She truly didn’t know the answers to Jane’s questions. Did she love Mark as she did in college before they broke up to go their separate ways, he to his career and she to Acorn Hill and her father? She was very fond of Mark, but …

  “Come on, Alice,” said Jane as she pulled some things from the refrigerator. “Don’t pretend to ignore me.”

  Alice turned around and looked at her younger sister. “I just really don’t know, Jane. Mark and I haven’t even talked about, well, us.”

  “That’s because he’s been so distracted by Adam.”

  Alice nodded. “That’s true enough.”

  “Adam isn’t exactly helping matters.”

  “Especially since it seems he can barely stand to be around me.”

  “Who can’t stand to be around you?” asked Louise as she came into the kitchen. “Mercy, Alice, I’m sure that you must be imagining things. I don’t believe I can think of a single person in Acorn Hill who doesn’t love you.”

  “I’m speaking of Adam,” said Alice.

  “Oh.” Louise nodded and sighed. “Yes, you may be right about that. I’ve tried to put that young man out of my head. He is certainly a troublemaker.”

  “Better watch ourselves,” warned Jane. “I hear someone coming in the front door just now, and I’m expecting Mark and Adam to join us for dinner tonight.”

  The sisters started chatting about the latest goings on in town as they worked together to prepare a meal of ham and Jane’s special recipe for herbed scalloped potatoes.

  “Hello in there,” called Mark a few minutes later as he peered in the kitchen door, as if he was afraid to enter.

  “You’re back,” said Alice. “Come on in. I love the beautiful roses, Mark. Thank you.”

  “It was the least that I could do after your ordeal.”

  “Come sit down,” said Jane. “Tell us about your afternoon.”

  “I just made a fresh pot of decaf,” offered Louise. “Would you like some?”

  Mark sighed as he eased himself into a chair. “That would be delightful.”

  “You sound tired,” noted Alice.

  “Exhausted,” admitted Mark. “I’m too old to be trying to keep up with someone Adam’s age.”

  “Then why are you?” asked Alice.

  Mark thought about this as he stirred some cream into his coffee. “I’m not exactly sure. I guess I’m hoping that I’ll make a connection with him somehow.”

  “So what did you do this afternoon?” asked Jane.

  Mark laughed. “Believe it or not, we went go-cart racing. We drove past a place on the outskirts of Potterston where they have—”

  “Crazy Jack’s Racetrack?” exclaimed Jane. “You went there?”

  Mark nodded. “Well, it seemed to spark something in Adam when he saw it. Suddenly, he remembered the time when his dad and I took him racing about ten years ago. And so I decided to just take a chance. Of course, when I suggested it, his immediate response was that it was silly. Then I stupidly talked him into it.” Mark exhaled loudly. “We ended up spending three hours there. I could barely pry myself out of the little car when we were done.”

  “But Adam enjoyed it?” asked Alice.

  “Yes, sort of. As we were leaving, Adam noticed this scrawny kitten that kept meowing. The owner, Crazy Jack, I guess, said it was a stray that he was going to take to the pound. Adam was all over that kitten, saying that the people at the pound would kill it. I assured him that they would probably just give it some shots and some good food and find it a good home, but Adam wouldn’t believe me.”

  “And?” Louise peered over her glasses at Mark.

  “And … well … I hope it’s okay, but Adam brought the kitten home. I mean to the inn.”

  “Oh, that’s perfectly fine,” said Alice.

  “Yes, just tell him to watch out for Wendell,” warned Jane.

  “Maybe he should introduce them so Wendell doesn’t do anything mean to the kitten,” suggested Alice. “Wendell does seem to think he rules the house.”

  “We stopped by the pet store where we got all the necessary accessories: a collar, a bed and kitty litter. I can easily give him the shots and whatnot myself, although it was too late to stop by a vet clinic to get the serums.” Mark set down his cup. “I know it isn’t a good idea. I told Adam it made no sense for him to adopt a pet when he can barely take care of himself.”

  “That’s true,” said Louise.

  “Naturally, that ended up in a big fight,” said Mark. “Adam is probably in his room pouting now.”

  “Goodness,” said Louise, “he really needs to get a grip on his emotions.”

  “It’s really not that easy when you’re depressed,” said Alice.

  “Maybe the kitten will help,” suggested Jane.

  Mark just shook his head. “I don’t know. I actually feel sorry for the kitten. He might’ve gotten a good home if he’d been taken to the pound. He’s rather cute, really, all black with four white paws. I can’t quite imagine him enjoying living in Adam’s car.”

  “Well, it’s a step up from living on the street,” said Jane.

  “Is living in his car what Adam plans to continue doing?” asked Alice as she finished making the sauce for the brandied peaches to go with the ham.

  “That’s what he says.”

  “He doesn’t want to continue his education?” asked Louise.

  “No interest at all. He says it’s a waste of time.”

  “Yeah,” said Jane, removing the foil from the scalloped potatoes and slipping the pan back into the oven, “like living in your car’s a great way to spend your days.”

  “Try to tell him that,” said Mark.

  When dinner was ready, the three sisters, Mark and Adam gathered around the table. Alice made a polite inquiry about Adam’s new kitten, but his reply was so chilly that Alice was warned against further conversation with him.

  “What’s his name?” asked Jane as she passed Adam the breadbasket.

  “Boots,” said Adam. “At least for now. It’s not the greatest name.”

  “I think it’s cute,” said Jane. “Mark told us that he has white feet.”

  Adam brightened. “He does. Maybe you’d like to see him after dinner.”

  Alice tried not to feel put out by the way Adam seemed to warm up to Jane. At least he’s engaging with someone, she assured herself. Even if it isn’t me.

  “Is he eating well?” asked Louise. “We heard he was quite skinny.”

  “Mark said to only feed him small amounts at first,” explained Adam, “and to feed him every couple of hours.”
/>   “How’s it going?” asked Mark.

  “He ate every bite,” said Adam. “I think he wanted more, but I didn’t give him any.”

  “Good,” said Mark. “Too much could really make him sick.”

  Alice wanted to ask if Boots knew how to use the litter box, but knew she would not get much of a response. Instead, she asked Louise, “Do you remember the kitten we had as girls? Oliver?”

  “Yes.” Louise nodded. “Wasn’t he black and white too?”

  “That’s what I recall,” said Alice. “I think he had three white feet and a white nose.”

  “I remember him!” exclaimed Jane.

  “Oh, I think not,” said Louise. “You weren’t born when we got him.”

  “I remember a big, old cat named Oliver,” insisted Jane. “Then one day he was gone, and when I asked Father where he went, he told me that he’d gone away, but he would be fine.”

  “Oh dear,” said Louise. “Maybe you do remember Oliver.”

  “What happened to him?” demanded Jane.

  “Well, he died, of course,” said Louise.

  “Old age,” added Alice. “Goodness, he must’ve been about fifteen.”

  “So I did know Oliver,” said Jane with satisfaction. She turned to Mark and Adam. “Those two are always remembering something that happened before I was born, but I got them this time.”

  “You certainly did,” admitted Louise. “Now that you mention it, I do remember that Father was unsure about how much to tell you at the time. You were quite young and probably would not have really comprehended that Oliver had died.”

  “Maybe,” agreed Jane, “but it was upsetting, even to my child’s mind, that Oliver had simply gone away. I imagined that he had packed his little kitty bag and taken off down the street to live with some other family. I think I even blamed myself, as if I’d been nicer to him he might’ve stayed.”

  Everyone laughed—everyone except Adam. Without even finishing his dinner, he excused himself and left the table.

  “Oh dear,” said Alice after they heard him go upstairs, “I think we came too close to his feelings about his parents.”

  Jane sighed. “It’s really hard to predict what will upset him. I thought cats were a safe topic. Well, we are making some progress. At least he said ‘excuse me’ this time.”

 

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