The Greening: a novel of romantic suspense...with a touch of magic (The Green Man Series Book 1)

by Sharon Brubaker

  They all looked at the apricot and gold colors beginning to lace the horizon.

  “The sunsets are spectacular here,” Sylvia said. “I never get tired of watching the sky and the water. I try not to think that the marvelous color is due to the pollution in Baltimore. I just know the sunsets are so peaceful. They bring happiness,” she said simply.

  “You are so much like your grandmother,” her mother said hearing her comment.

  Sensing another possible confrontation, Owen asked, “Would you like to go for a short walk on the beach before it gets too dark?”

  “Sure,” Sylvia said, finishing her coffee quickly “Let me go and get a pair of sandals.” She stood up and took in as many dishes as she could carry. Sylvia placed them in the sink before running upstairs to get sandals.

  “We’ll be back in a couple of minutes,” Sylvia said as they stepped off the deck.

  Fortunately the tide was out and the stretch of beach was wider than usual. It was rocky for the most part. The smooth washed stones of all sizes were a little difficult to walk on. Sylvia picked her way carefully over the stones in her sandals and avoided some sharp pieces of glass.

  “There’s been more and more glass each year,” Sylvia said, picking her way over the rocks and shaking her head. “It’s amazing what you find down here. Some of the trash is a little alarming.”

  “Have you seen any fish kills?” Owen asked her.

  “One or two in the last few of years,” Sylvia said. “It hasn’t been bad this far north,” she told him.

  Owen nodded. The sun had started to dip and the sky was turning from a fiery apricot to fuchsia joined with a deep aquamarine. The wake of a couple of powerboats sent small waves lapping to the shoreline in a rhythmic pattern. Sylvia started to calm down, and as she did so, she felt Owen’s presence. Sylvia didn’t want to admit even to herself that he had an effect on her. She tripped over a rock in the darkening twilight. Owen caught her hand and kept her from falling. Her hand tingled where he had held her hand.

  “Thanks,” she said, not wanting to let go of his hand. “We should probably turn back. We don’t have a flash light.” She looked down at their hands, surprised and amazed how naturally they seemed to fit together.

  “Okay,” he said letting go of her hand.

  They turned to walk back. The sky had turned a deep, dusky blue when they got back to the house and the stars had just begun to pop into the sky.

  They were nearing the house and the darkness was gathering quickly. Her mother had lighted citronella candles on the deck and on the table, lighting their way. Owen and Sylvia made their way through the dark grass getting damp with dew. Marian and her mother were lingering over another cup of coffee chatting amiably.

  “We should be going,” Marian said as they returned. “Thank you, Mary and Sylvia for a lovely dinner.”

  “Yes, thank you again,” Owen said.

  “You’re welcome,” Sylvia’s mother told them. “Come back soon.”

  “Give me a call soon,” Marian said to Sylvia.

  Sylvia nodded at her. “I will. Good night,” she said to them both, her stomach fluttered as her eye caught Owen’s smile.

  “Nice young man,” her mother commented as they finished cleaning up.

  “Yes,” Sylvia agreed, “he is.”

  Her mother was cheerful and the tension gone. Sylvia yawned involuntarily. She was tired and didn’t want to start an argument or discussion about the new information on Gran, but felt she had to say something.

  “Mom,” Sylvia said, “I can’t believe you and Dad threatened Gran like that. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Sylvia, you were a child. You wouldn’t have understood our reasons. Gran did,” her mother answered her wearily. “That’s why she complied with us.”

  “I don’t agree,” Sylvia said. “I think it was horrible!”

  “Look, I don’t want to argue tonight,” her mother said. “I’m too worn out. I’m going to bed. We can talk about this another time with clearer heads.”

  Her mother went upstairs leaving Sylvia alone in the bright kitchen light. Steaming, Sylvia paced back and forth between the kitchen and living room. After her fifth time into the living room she stopped to look out at the stars for a minute and realized she was weary too. She needed to talk to Marian. She seemed to be the one who knew more about Gran than she. It was surprising that she felt she grew up in this house and knew everything about Gran. Now everyone was portraying a stranger, albeit an interesting one. She was anxious to learn more. Sighing, she turned her thoughts back toward Owen. Her reaction to Owen was totally different than with anyone she had ever dated and it surprised and frightened her a little bit. She had never been in a really serious relationship. She had never met anyone that she was truly interested in spending a great deal of time with. With Owen, it was quite different and more than surprising.

  Chapter 9

  In God all that is, is God.

  In Him the smallest creature

  Of the earth and sea

  Is worth no atom less

  Than you or me.

  --Angelus Silesius

  The humidity returned with the holiday. Sylvia felt sticky when she woke up. Her Mom was in her usual spot at the breakfast table, drinking coffee and reading the paper. Her bag was packed and sitting by the door.

  “Morning, Syl,” she greeted her daughter. “I thought I would get an early start this morning to beat the traffic. I know I mentioned going to the graves, but I can’t. It’s too fresh.”

  Sylvia went to the cupboard to get a mug. She was not awake this morning and was moving slowly. She nodded as she yawned and poured a cup of coffee and peered through slits of eyes in the bright morning light.

  “Okay,” she said sleepily.

  “Can I take you out to breakfast?” her mother asked her.

  “No, thanks,” Sylvia said. “There are too many tourists.”

  Her mother nodded, understanding, “Do you want me to make some eggs?” she asked.

  “No, thanks,” said Sylvia, sipping her café au lait. “I’m going to have some of the fruit from last night,” she told her mother, “and maybe a bowl of cereal.”

  Sylvia got her breakfast and joined her mother. If her mother was leaving early, she thought she might call her old roommate Gwen and see how she was doing.

  As if reading her mind, her mother asked her, “Have you heard from Gwen?”

  “We’ve e-mailed and texted a couple of times,” Sylvia told her. “I was thinking of calling her today to see if she could come down for a visit. She’s just started her new job, so I don’t know.”

  They both chatted, avoiding the conversation of the previous night. After her Mom left, Sylvia stripped the beds and worked on laundry. She decided she might as well vacuum and dust and ended up mopping the kitchen floor while she had the chance. She was amazed how quickly a house could get dusty and was surprised at her own domesticity, blaming it on boredom. Knowing Gwen usually slept late, she waited until well after eleven to give her a call.

  “Hi there,” she said to a voice that still sounded asleep when she called. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” she asked teasingly.

  “Hey there, girlfriend,” Gwen said, waking up as she spoke. “How are you doing, Sylvia?” It was obvious by the rustling sounds in the background that Gwen was moving around in her bed.

  “I’m okay,” Sylvia told her truthfully. “How are you? How’s the new job?”

  “It’s good,” Gwen answered. Hang on a sec while I put on some coffee. Sylvia heard the sound of water running and Gwen picked up the cordless. “I’m just getting to know my way around,” she told Sylvia. “You know, the routine and what I think I should be doing,” she said.

  “No, I wouldn’t know…yet,” Sylvia answered her. “But, I’m going to start the job hunt this week. Hopefully it won’t be waitressing or selling retail. I don’t think I could do either. Remember when I tried to waitress last year? That was a disaster,” she re
minded Gwen.

  “I agree, serving is not your forte,” Gwen laughed and assured her. “Something good will turn up, I know it will.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Sylvia said. She went on to tell her how her mother was pushing at her about jobs.

  “How’s your love life?” Sylvia asked, changing the subject.

  “Don’t ask,” Gwen said. “A couple of guys at work asked me out, but I’m not sure I want to get into that,” she said warily. “If something happened, either good or bad, it could get uncomfortable.” Gwen was always the practical one. “How about you?” she asked Sylvia.

  “Same as usual,” Sylvia told her, “Nada, nada, nada…but, I did meet someone that’s really,” she hesitated, searching for the right words to describe Owen. “Well, I think he’s a friend, but I know I’m interested in more,” she confessed.

  “Ask him out!” Gwen insisted.

  “No, I don’t think so,” Sylvia said.

  “It’s the new millennium, Sylvia,” Gwen teased, “you don’t need to wait to be asked out.”

  “I know,” Sylvia said, “I’m just not ready.”

  “Yeah, celibate, Syl,” Gwen teased.

  “Hey, that’s not fair!” Sylvia cried, “I just haven’t found the right person for a decent relationship. Most of the guys at school were goons.”

  “You’re right there,” Gwen replied dryly. “Goon or not, you could still ask him out and get out for a change,” she reprimanded her friend.

  “I’m not ready to do that yet,” Sylvia insisted.

  Gwen started making chicken sounds and Sylvia laughed.

  “When are you going to come for a visit?” Sylvia asked.

  “When do you want me?” Gwen countered.

  “Please come as soon as you can possible!” Sylvia replied. “Do you want to come next weekend?”

  “It would be really late when I arrive,” she warned. “Is that okay?”

  “Of course it is!” Sylvia cried to her friend. “That would be great! Bring your swimsuit and we can swim and get the start of a tan,” Sylvia told her.

  “Any chance I’ll meet ‘the man’?” Gwen asked.

  “Possibly,” Sylvia said mysteriously. “Have a good week. I’ll see you Friday night!”

  They hung up. Sylvia smiled. She realized how much she had missed her roommate. She looked around the house. It was looking good from her cursory cleaning this morning. She put in another load of laundry and went to sit in the sun. With the heat and humidity building, it took only a few minutes to feel the sweltering heat. Inside the house was much, much cooler.

  Sylvia was bored. She didn’t want to go out into the Memorial holiday traffic, but she certainly didn’t want to clean anymore in the sweltering heat. She really wanted to call Owen and Marian, but at the same time, did not. She finally guessed that she didn’t want to feel lonely.

  Thinking she had nothing better to do, Sylvia dragged herself over and turned on the computer and searched through Word to find resume templates and went to work. Using a template she typed up what she thought was an okay resume. Without experience, she really didn’t have much to present to a potential employer. She printed out a copy, copied and e-mailed a copy to her mother and to Gwen for their opinions. Restless, she caved in on her resolve not to call Marian and Owen, thinking they could give an opinion on her resume before she took it to the copy place. She dialed, but there was no answer.

  She went to the refrigerator to find that it was fairly barren and grabbed her purse and broke her resolve not to go to the grocery store. Stepping outside, it felt like she walked into a wall. The heat and humidity were suffocating. The lovely spring weather had switched to sudden summer overnight. Inside Gran’s house with its thick walls, bay breeze and ceiling fans, one didn’t notice the heat as much.

  Crawling gingerly into the hot car, Sylvia turned the air conditioning on high and waited for the cool air to surround her before backing out of the driveway. She took a deep breath of the even cooler air of the grocery store. It was so very cold that goose bumps appeared on her skin right away. She wandered the aisles, picking up fresh fruit, salad, tuna, frozen dinners, yogurt and more of the sorbet that her mother had chosen as a dessert the night before. Fortunately the store wasn’t as crowded as the other day. Sylvia figured that everyone was celebrating the holiday and were busy with barbecues and picnics. It only took her a few minutes to zip through the store for a few things. Sylvia checked out and headed home.

  Remembering her mother had picked up a Sunday paper the day before, Sylvia sat down at the kitchen table and spread the paper out before her. Fumbling through Gran’s junk drawer in the kitchen she finally located a black marker. Settled with marker in hand and the newspaper before her she searched for the Employment section. Several openings in the medical field were available and Sylvia vaguely wished she had some sort of medical degree. She tugged at her long braid absentmindedly as she read through the other employment ads. Several telemarketing positions were available, but she had done that part time for a while in college and placed that at the bottom of her list of possibilities. Thurmont was advertising. She glanced through their listings—assistant to the public information office, secretarial and plant manager. The public information office position sounded interesting and she wondered if she was qualified. It was a definite possibility. Working for Thurmont made her pause. It had been the arch enemy to Gran for many years, but Owen had a different story. She wondered which was correct. Still, she needed a job and this was something she was qualified to do. She had always liked her writing classes in college. Perhaps it would work. She also checked out advertisements for some temporary agencies.

  The telephone jangled and she answered it. Her mother was checking in and Sylvia told her mother, to her delight, about the resume she had emailed and the job possibilities.

  “That’s great, Syl,” she told her. “I’ll get online right away and look at your resume. The temporary agencies are a good idea too. I think a lot of them have benefits and most of the employees get hired within a decent amount of time.”

  “What do you think of the Thurmont openings?” she asked her mother.

  “I think you would do well interviewing for the public information office,” her mother told her. “You have a decent background in writing and you have good computer skills. When you fill out your application, don’t forget to list your web page design skills and your writing classes.”

  “Okay,” Sylvia told her. “Thanks. I think I’ll give them a call tomorrow.”

  “Perhaps Owen could bring you an application,” her mother advised.

  “I think I would like to do this on my own,” Sylvia told her mother.

  “You’re right,” her mother answered. “It would be better if you would take the initiative. Good luck. I’ll call back if I see any drastic errors in your resume.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I’ll talk to you soon,” Sylvia ended the conversation.

  After several cups of coffee and nervously pacing around the house the next morning, Sylvia called Thurmont’s Human Resources office. They said they would e-mail an application and to forward it with a resume as soon as possible. She hung up, breathing a sigh of relief. She wondered how Owen’s first day was going. She called a couple more places for an application and realized if she did get an interview in the next couple of days, she had nothing to wear. Well, she had the dress she wore at her grandmother’s funeral and the pant suit she wore to the attorney’s office, but she wanted a couple of other things. Her wardrobe of jeans and casual clothes would not fit the bill for interviews. She wasn’t sure if she could wait until Friday. Sylvia called Marian for ideas of where to shop since she exhausted the possibilities in the local mall over the weekend with her mother.

  Marian was delighted that she called her to go shopping. She suggested they drive to Lancaster, Pennsylvania to the outlets to look for things and it seemed like a good idea to Sylvia.

  “I’ll drive,” Marian told
her, “I know a couple of short cuts to the outlets.”

  “All right,” Sylvia agreed, “But, this time, lunch is on me.”

  Later, Sylvia went to check her e-mail. The application and information from Thurmont had not arrived in her e-mail account. She quickly e-mailed Gwen and her mother, signed off and went to pour a glass of wine.

  Sitting on the steps of the deck, Sylvia sipped her wine and looked out at the water and squinted to see the edge of the opposite shoreline. It was a faint line in the distance. It was still hot and humid and a drop of perspiration trickled down her neck and shirt. She heard a rustling near her and, startled, jumped when she saw the Green Man next to her.

  In Hitchcock like tones, he said, “Good evening, Sylvia.”

  “Do you always surprise people by just ‘dropping in,’” she asked him a little testily. With the high heat and humidity the half of glass of wine had started to affect her and she felt a little tipsy. Having the Green Man appear was an otherworldly feeling anyway, but with wine on top of it, she was questioning herself and her sanity.

  “Not always,” he told her. His smile was infectious and he looked at her fondly.

  “I haven’t discovered any of the ‘gifts’ you spoke about,” she told him.

  “I didn’t expect you to, yet,” he told her. “I just wanted to sit with you and look at the world for awhile and to talk.”

  “I think you have an ulterior motive,” she continued.

  She waited for a reaction, but all he did was smile enigmatically.

  “Why did you come?” she asked eventually.

  “Do you remember when you were able to see the life force in things?” he asked her.

  “No,” she answered and sighed. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. Is it like ‘the force’ from Star Wars or something?” she asked unrelentingly.

  “It’s something like that,” he said clearly amused. “Think back,” he told her, “Think back to when you were a child.”

  Sylvia sipped more wine thinking this was a futile effort on the Green Man’s part. She didn’t have a clue. The Green Man was talking softly, now he was reciting a poem. It sounded familiar to her. Sylvia listened.