Memories from Acorn Hill

by Melody Carlson

  “Oh, Louie, please.”

  Louise chuckled. “Not on your life, Jane. I've already had more than enough of that silliness. If you only knew how many times I have held my tongue since Belle arrived. Was it only yesterday? Well, I am sure that even you would be impressed.” She started fixing a plate for Ethel. “Besides, I need to work on our accounts and I should be around in case we get some reservations today.”

  Jane groaned. “So there's no getting out of it?”

  “No.” Louise nodded toward the dining room. “And you better get out there and inform Belle before she gives our ailing aunt a telephone call. I already wrote down the phone number for her.”

  Belle had just picked up the office phone when Jane found her. “You don't need to call my aunt,” said Jane quickly. Then she explained about the allergic reaction and how she'd been selected to be Belle's guide today.

  “I hope her reaction wasn't from last night's facial.” Belle had a horrified look. “I'd hate to think I made that sweet lady sick.”

  “Aunt Ethel has very sensitive skin.” Jane felt like her aunt's parrot as she repeated that line.

  Belle actually had tears in her eyes. “Oh my! I've given hundreds of facials, but I've never made anyone sick before. This is terrible.”

  “Well, Aunt Ethel is special,” said Jane wryly. “So, when would you like to have the town tour? I need to finish up some things in the kitchen, but I could be ready to go in, say, an hour.”

  “That's perfect.” Belle nodded, but she was wringing her hands as if she was still quite distraught over Ethel.

  “And I'd like to order some of the items you used on me last night,” said Jane. “The cleanser and facial mask and moisturizer.”

  Belle's perfect brow furrowed. “Are you just trying to make me feel better?”

  “Not at all,” said Jane. “I actually like how my skin feels this morning. I think your products are very nice.”

  Belle smiled. “Oh, I'm so glad.”

  “Meet me in the foyer in an hour,” said Jane.

  “Will do.”

  Despite the dream business, Jane liked Belle. Maybe it was her southern charm or just her sweet, big-eyed innocence, but it was hard not to like the optimistic woman. Even so, Jane was not the least bit excited about what lay ahead today. She finished up in the kitchen, and then, remembering how fresh and pretty Belle looked in her pale pink pantsuit, Jane decided maybe she should spruce up a little herself. It might make the events of the day easier. So Jane hurried up to her room and changed into a plum-colored corduroy skirt and shirt, topped with a favorite faded denim jacket that always made her feel younger than her fifty years. She added some jewelry and even lip color and blush. Then she pulled her hair back into a fresh ponytail and tied it with a richly colored scarf in shades of plums and blues. Not bad. Of course, she knew she'd probably look dark and dowdy next to Belle, but it was, at least, an improvement over her breakfast attire.

  “Ready to go?” asked Jane when she found Belle at the foot of the stairs, thumbing through a chamber of commerce brochure about Acorn Hill. Louise always made sure the inn was well stocked with local maps and information.

  “Ready and waiting,” chirped Belle. “For starters, I thought perhaps we could tour the church. I'd like to get an idea of the size and feel of it—for the wedding, you know.”

  Jane winced inwardly but simply said, “Sure, why not.”

  As they walked toward the chapel, Jane related the building's history, telling Belle how her father, Daniel Howard, had been the pastor for so many years and had recently passed away.

  “Oh, I'm so sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Was it after your father's death that Rev. Thompson came?” asked Belle as they paused outside of the chapel, looking up at the modest yet dignified white clapboard structure.

  “Yes, shortly thereafter. There's an associate pastor as well. Henry Ley. He and his wife actually live in the rectory.”

  “So, where does Rev. Thompson live?”

  “In town,” said Jane as she pushed open one of the double doors. “Above an antique shop.”

  “Really?” Belle sounded disappointed. “Being a single man, I suppose a small space would be easier for him to keep up.”

  “The church is about a hundred years old,” said Jane as they entered. She pointed out the stained-glass windows. “My favorite is the one with Jesus holding the little lamb.”

  “Oh yes,” gushed Belle. “That would be mine too.” She slowly walked down the center aisle, doing the step, slide, step that some wedding parties still used. Obviously, she was imagining herself as the bride, going down to the altar where she would be met by—

  “Hello, ladies,” said Rev. Thompson as he popped out from behind the pulpit.

  Jane jumped. “Oh, I didn't know anyone was here. Are we interrupting anything?”

  “No, not at all.” He brushed dust from the knees of his pants as he approached them. Jane could tell that, although he was smiling, something in his eyes suggested he was uncomfortable. “I was just checking on some electrical wiring. We had some shorting out due to the moisture problem downstairs. I wanted to make sure that everything was up and running for Sunday's service.”

  “Will you be preaching on Sunday?” asked Belle, as if he were an actor and she wanted to know if he had a starring role.

  He cleared his throat. “Yes. That's how it usually goes. Unless I'm away or sick, I deliver the main sermon.”

  “Belle just wanted to see the church,” said Jane quickly.

  “And it's absolutely perfect,” said Belle. “I love it.”

  “So do we,” said Jane. She gave Kenneth an apologetic look. But it was hard to read his expression in return. Without a doubt, he was unsettled, not his usual cool, calm and reserved self. But whether his reaction was a result of Belle's man-hunting mission or simply the pretty and charming Belle herself, Jane wasn't entirely sure. All she knew was she wanted to get Belle out of there—and fast.

  “So, that's about it,” she said lightly to Belle. “Our little chapel. Nothing fancy, but near and dear to our hearts.” Jane turned around as if to leave.

  “Oh, and I can see why,” gushed Belle. “It's perfectly lovely in its sweet simplicity. And I'm sure it's going to be near and dear to my heart too. In fact, it already is.”

  Jane actually took Belle by the arm and gently tugged her back down the aisle and toward the front door. “See you later, Ken—Rev. Thompson. Sorry to disturb you. I hope you get everything squared away by Sunday.”

  “Me too,” called Belle as she nearly tripped over the doormat in her high heels. Jane helped balance her. “See you later, Rev. Thompson.”

  Then they were outside where, to Jane's surprise the sun was actually beginning to shine. “Well, look at that,” she said to Belle. “The sun decided to show its face today.”

  “A good sign,” said Belle. But Jane wasn't so sure.

  Chapter Six

  The Thursday morning meeting at the hospital had wound up rather quickly, and Alice had barely arrived home when she ran into Jane and Belle. They were just coming back from looking at the chapel.

  “Oh, Alice,” Jane gushed happily, “you're home!”

  “Why, yes,” Alice responded with some surprise. It wasn't as if she'd been gone for days. “The meeting was shorter than expected, and now I have a whole day to do whatever I like.”

  “Would you like to go to town with us?” Jane asked eagerly.

  “That sounds nice.”

  “Wonderful.” Jane patted Alice on the back. “And since that's the case, perhaps you won't mind taking Belle around to meet some of the local bachelors while I catch up on some kitchen things.”

  “I thought Aunt Ethel was in charge of that tour,” Alice pointed out, suddenly unsure that she really wanted to go into town.

  Then Jane explained about their aunt's mishap.

  “But perhaps I should check on her,” Alice offered.

/>   “No, Louise has it completely under control,” said Jane. “Take as long as you like, Alice. And be sure to stop by and introduce Belle to Lloyd. Auntie called him to say that we would drop in. She thought he might be of assistance.” Then Jane simply waved, wished them well, and practically dashed back into the house.

  “It looks as if you're stuck with me,” said Alice with an apologetic smile.

  “Or perhaps you're stuck with me,” said Belle.

  Alice patted Belle on the arm. “Not at all. I am delighted to be able to get to know you better, Belle. We shall have a wonderful time.”

  Feeling hopeful about the weather, Alice decided it might be nice to walk to town. Plus, it would give them a chance to chat. However, as they went down Chapel Road, Alice wondered how comfortable Belle would be in her high-heeled pink pumps.

  “Do you need to put on walking shoes?” she asked Belle.

  “Oh no, these are just fine. I'm used to heels.” She chuckled. “I'm so short that I can hardly bear to be seen without them. I suppose that's just my silly vanity, but it's the truth.”

  As they walked, Alice began to tell Belle a bit of the town's history. Not that it was so extraordinary, but it managed to fill the spaces in their conversation, and it also distracted Alice from the task ahead. Was she really supposed to take Belle around and introduce her to every available bachelor?

  “Oh, there's that little coffee shop where I met Hope,” said Belle happily as they arrived at Hill Street. “We must stop in for pie later today. She told me that their pie was divine. I believe she said it was worth making the trip to Acorn Hill just for a piece.”

  Alice laughed. “Well, maybe not all the way from Georgia, but I'll admit their pies are very good. My father loved their blackberry pie. He went in regularly for it.”

  Belle pointed to the Acorn Hill Antique Shop. “Oh, I simply adore antiques and collectibles. Could we go in there?”

  “Of course,” said Alice.

  Belle paused in front of the store, looking up with interest. “Oh my, is that where Rev. Thompson lives? Jane mentioned an apartment above an antique store.”

  “Yes. That's right.” Alice pushed open the door, at the same time pushing away the image of an eager Belle racing up the stairs to Kenneth's apartment. Alice hoped that Belle wasn't the sort of woman who would be a bother to their pastor.

  They looked around for a short time. It seemed that Belle's main interest was in pink carnival glass, and the only pieces in the shop were ones she'd already collected. “Still, it's best to look,” she told Alice as they exited. “Leave no stone unturned, my grandma used to say.”

  Alice wondered if the same theory would apply to Belle's manhunt. “That's our town hall,” said Alice, pointing across the street. “And the shop next door, Time for Tea, is owned by one of our town's available bachelors.”

  “I wouldn't mind picking up some tea,” said Belle.

  No stone unturned, thought Alice as they crossed the street. The bell jangled as the two of them entered.

  “Doesn't it smell good in here?” said Belle.

  “Welcome,” said Wilhelm Wood, glancing over his shoulder from where he was filling a small canister at the back of the shop. “How are you, Alice?”

  “I'm well,” said Alice. “Isn't it lovely that the sun is shining?”

  “Yes,” he agreed as he stepped up to the counter and smiled. “The past few weeks of weather have been depressing.” Alice had always felt that Wilhelm was a nice-looking man, tall, and impeccably groomed. Still, she wondered what Belle would think of him.

  “I'd like to introduce you to our guest,” said Alice.

  Wilhelm's blond eyebrows rose expectantly as he smoothed back his already neat, thinning, gray-blond hair.

  “Belle, this is our good friend Wilhelm Wood, the owner of Time for Tea. Wilhelm, this is Belle Bannister from Georgia.”

  He extended his hand. “A pleasure, ma'am.”

  “Actually, it's Miss,” said Alice. “Belle may be relocating to Acorn Hill, Wilhelm.”

  “And what, may I ask, brings you to our fair town?”

  “Well, I suppose it's really a number of things, Mr. Wood,” Belle said with an enigmatic smile.

  “Please, call me Wilhelm.”

  “Thank you. Well, you see, I'm just a small-town girl at heart,” said Belle. “And I think Acorn Hill might be the perfect place to bring my business to.”

  “What sort of business is that?”

  “I'm a beauty consultant.”

  “And a fine one at that,” added Alice.

  Wilhelm chuckled. “Well, I'm sure that our town would welcome a beauty consultant.”

  “Exactly what Aunt Ethel said.”

  “Except now the poor woman seems to have had an allergic reaction to one of my products,” admitted Belle. “I feel so terrible about it.”

  “But the rest of us loved your products,” Alice reminded her.

  “Have you been to the Clip 'n' Curl yet?” asked Wilhelm.

  “No,” said Alice. “But it's on our list. Aunt Ethel thought that Belle should meet Betty.”

  Wilhelm nodded. “Betty's shop is just down the way.” He straightened his tie. “Is there anything I can help you ladies with while you're here?”

  “Oh yes,” said Belle. “I just adore a certain peach spice tea. I can't recall the name of it, but it's an herbal tea.”

  “Hmm.” Wilhelm gave her description some thought. “I can't think of anything like that offhand, but I mix some teas myself.”

  “Oh yes,” said Alice. “He's very good at it. Jane says that Wilhelm is a master tea mixer.”

  Wilhelm waved his hand. “Oh, Jane is very sweet. But I wouldn't call myself a master. I just dabble.”

  “Well, I can attest that his Asian Orange Spice is legendary in our town,” said Alice. “In fact, if I'm not mistaken, I think we could use some for the inn, Wilhelm.”

  “No problem, Alice.” He turned around and picked up a large canister and began to measure some into a small bag. “The usual amount?”

  “Yes.”

  He filled the bag, closed it and handed it to Alice. “On your account?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “And now for you, Miss Bannister.”

  “Oh, please, call me Belle.”

  “Yes. Indeed. I'm thinking perhaps you ladies could continue on your travels and I will do a little experimental mixing. Stop by here before you head back to the inn, and you can see what you think.”

  “Oh my,” said Belle. “You'd do that for me?”

  He smiled. “Certainly.”

  “Oh, I can't wait to try what you put together,” she said.

  “We'll see you later then,” said Alice.

  “Everyone is so nice in this town,” said Belle as they continued walking. “I feel so at home already.”

  “What did you think of Wilhelm?” asked Alice.

  “He seemed very nice. And he's a really neat dresser. That jacket looked like Armani to me. Not that I'm an expert when it comes to fashion, but it looked expensive and Italian.”

  “So, do you think Wilhelm could possibly be the one?” asked Alice.

  “Maybe, but I suppose he's older than what I had in mind.”

  “I think he's about the same age as Rev. Thompson,” said Alice.

  “Really? Well, that makes me wonder if I may be wrong about the age factor. I don't really think it should matter too much. What should matter is finding the right man, the man that God has chosen for me.” She looked up at Alice with big blue eyes. “Don't you think that's what's important?”

  “I wouldn't really know,” Alice sighed. “I've never been married myself.”

  “Oh, I know I must seem silly, Alice,” said Belle. “You're so smart, a nurse and all. I wish I could be more like you and your sisters. You all seem to have such sensible heads upon your shoulders.”

  “No, no,” Alice firmly shook her head. “It's better to be yourself. If I've learned anyt
hing in my sixty years, it's that. But I'll admit that all this dream business and looking for Mr. Right is a little hard for me to grasp. Still, if it works for you, well, I firmly believe God moves in mysterious ways.”

  “And my dream is rather mysterious.”

  Alice pointed over to the florist shop. “That's Wild Things,” she told Belle. “The owner of that shop is also a bachelor and a good friend of Jane's.”

  Belle laughed. “It sounds as if Jane is good friends with all the bachelors, Alice. I'm surprised she isn't married. She seems the kind of woman that fellows would admire. I'll bet she's turned most of them down.”

  “Oh, I wouldn't know about that,” said Alice as she pushed open the door, although she did know that part of what Belle said was true. Jane did have a good rapport with a number of the single men in town.

  “Oh my,” said Belle. “This is a beautiful shop.”

  “Yes.” Alice nodded. “Craig is very talented.”

  “Do I hear someone singing my praises?” asked Craig as he emerged with an armful of purple irises. He beamed at Alice. “How are you?”

  “I'm well, thank you.”

  “And how is my buddy Jane doing?”

  “Much better now that the sun is shining.”

  “I know what you mean,” said Craig as he put the irises into a flower bin. “I was considering a trip to the Bahamas.” He pushed back a lock of sandy brown hair that had fallen across his forehead, giving him a boyish look. He smiled warmly at the two women.

  “Really?” Craig was more Jane's friend than Alice's, but Alice liked the young man, and she knew he was doing a great job with his business.

  “Well, it was an impractical idea, but with this weather I was actually thinking about it.” He glanced over at Belle. “Who is your lovely friend, Alice?”

  “Forgive my manners,” said Alice. “This is Belle Bannister Belle, this is Craig Tracy, owner of Wild Things and the best florist in these parts.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Belle.” Craig politely shook her hand. He was only a few inches taller than Belle, and Alice had to admit, if only to herself, the two would make a cute couple.

  “It's a pleasure to meet you too, Craig.” Belle looked around the shop and smiled. “And your shop is perfectly lovely. And the aroma in here”—she took in a deep breath—“why, it's like taking a whiff of heaven.”