Still not feeling placated, she said goodbye to Marian and went for a walk to assuage her anger. About a half a dozen cars were parked along the narrow road that led to the Marina. She stared and on her way back realized the crowd was at Mr. Peter’s house, the gentleman who had liver cancer. He must have died in the last few days and she had not noticed it in the paper. The feeling of emptiness that had yawned within her for the first couple of weeks after Gran’s death returned. She felt sorry for the family as she walked home. Tears of grief, slowly and silently, fell with a few of self-pity from her situation with Owen mingled in. She felt like howling and curled up on the couch, crying herself out. Her grief for Gran came in waves. Tonight everything felt bleak and empty.
Thursday she awoke with new resolve, that with or without Owen, she would make the project work. She checked and double-checked the handouts and presentation board that she had put together and loaded it into her car. She nervously fiddled with things about the office and waited for the end of the day.
She arrived at the library early and unloaded her things, set up the stark community room and then meandered through the shelves picking up books here and there reading various chapters. People started to arrive at 6:45 and she went to the community room to greet them and have them sign in. There was no sign of Owen and Sylvia thought she would be running the program solo. Marian came in about five minutes before seven and beamed at Sylvia. She was alone and she held up her hands to Sylvia’s questioning eyes. Sylvia cleared her throat to start the meeting when Owen walked in. He nodded at Sylvia.
“Are you okay?” she whispered the question while folks were still chatting.
He nodded abruptly. “Are you ready to start?” he asked quietly.
“Yes,” Sylvia said and cleared her throat and started the meeting by introducing herself and Owen. Doing her best to keep her anger at bay she briefly went over the site history and told the group that Thurmont wanted to work to bring back the health of the stream that was in fair condition at the moment. She explained the value of a stream watch, and that it would only take a couple of hours during the year for any volunteer. She passed out a packet of general stream watch information that included pictures and definitions of the flora and fauna for each level for stream health. Then she introduced Owen.
Owen went over basic stream watch procedure using a powerpoint, giving an overview of what type of flora and fauna would be in a fair to healthy stream. He passed out a checklist example and urged people to sign up for training so they could begin as soon as possible.
Sylvia took over again, polling convenient times to meet for training and passed out sign up sheets.
While people were busy signing up and reading through their information she sidled up to Owen and asked, “What did you find in the soil and water samples?”
“I can’t talk about that right now,” he returned curtly.
Rebuffed, Sylvia turned back to the group asking if there were any questions. A few people raised their hands and asked specific questions about stream health in relation to the clean up and Sylvia deferred the question to Owen. The meeting ended a short time later; the crowd friendlier than at the last meeting. Sylvia had a group of five signed up for morning a training and another group for a late afternoon session.
Marian came up to them, “That seemed to go well,” she said.
Sylvia nodded and looked at Owen. He nodded too, but still seemed distracted.
“Thanks for coming,” she said to him.
He seemed to come out of his fog, “Sure,” he said, “no problem.” He smiled at her, but when she looked in his eyes she could see that he was troubled.
“Look,” he said, “I need to go and finish up some stuff. I’ll see you later.” He turned and left leaving Sylvia standing with her mouth agape.
“I don’t know what’s bothering him,” Marian said. “He’s been really agitated this last couple of weeks.” She helped Sylvia carry the extra paper out to her car and Sylvia carried the presentation board. Sylvia said nothing. She was still angered by his actions.
“Do you want to go out for a drink?” Marian asked her.
“I would love to,” Sylvia answered. “Where can we go?”
“There’s a new restaurant on the water that just opened,” Marian told her. “Why don’t we go and have a drink and a small bite to eat.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Sylvia said. “I’ll follow you.”
The restaurant was practically deserted when they arrived and the waitress was not happy when she saw them walk in.
“You can sit anywhere,” she said to them and Marian walked over to a small table that looked out over the water.
Marian ordered a Rusty Nail and a hot crab appetizer to share. Sylvia, realizing she had missed dinner, ordered a bowl of crab bisque and a glass of white Zinfandel.
“What is going on with Owen?” Sylvia asked Marian trying to keep a demanding tone out of her voice.
“I was hoping you knew,” Marian replied. “All I know is that something isn’t adding up right with the tests for his department and he hasn’t resolved the differences in the tests. He’s been going over and over the tests and has redone them at least once, I think.”
“Can someone have made a mistake?” Sylvia asked.
“I would think so,” Marian said, “but he seems really bothered by the inconsistencies in the data.”
“Did he tell you anything about the samples on Sunday?” Sylvia pressed.
“No, he hasn’t mentioned that at all,” Marian said honestly.
“Hmm,” Sylvia murmured. If Owen hadn’t told Marian, she couldn’t very well share the information, but was bothered by his lack of courtesy. She told Marian so as the waitress brought their food to their table. Sylvia stirred up the steaming soup. It was full of chunks of lump crabmeat and had paprika sprinkled over the top. She took a small sip of the hot soup and nodded to Marian. “Delicious,” she said.
“The dip is very good too,” Marian said, “Please have some. I don’t know what to tell you about Owen,” Marian said. “He’s always been one to keep difficulties to himself. He’s always had a tough time sharing.”
Sylvia didn’t comment, but spread hot crab dip on the toasted baguette slices that were included with the appetizer. She changed the subject.
“Are you ready for your party?” Sylvia asked.
“I think so,” Marian answered. “The weather looks good and I’ve made a good start on the appetizers. Will you still be able to pick strawberries on Saturday morning with me?”
“Sure,” Sylvia answered her. “It will be fun.”
“Why don’t I pick you up,” Marian said, “at 7:30. Is that too early?” Marian asked and Sylvia shook her head. Marian continued, “You can bring your party clothes. Owen or I can take you back after the party.”
“All right,” Sylvia replied. “I’ll endeavor to get organized.” She was feeling her sense of humor returning with the comfort of the warm soup inside of her.
“We can pick strawberries and then come back to the house and begin getting ready for the party,” Marian said. “The weather looks fine,” she continued. “It should be a lovely evening. And I’ve already worked on appetizers and purchased a few too.”
“What?” Sylvia said with mocked shock. “Purchasing appetizers? Come on, Marian, what will it be next? Canned soup?”
Marian chuckled, “I guess my age is beginning to show,” she said.
“I’m just teasing,” Sylvia told her, and then changed the subject.
“Did Owen hang up the fairy lights?” Sylvia asked.
“I think that was one of his projects this evening,” Marian said. “Unfortunately, he’s been so caught up in whatever is bothering him that I haven’t had the heart to ask. Last Sunday he chopped a huge pile of wood for the bonfire.”
“He told me he would,” Sylvia said.
They finished their meal and were the only people in the restaurant. The restaurant personnel were making not s
o subtle sounds that they wanted to clean up and go home.
“We should be going,” Marian said and Sylvia agreed.
“I’ll see you Saturday morning!” Marian said. “Good night.”
“Good night,” Sylvia answered.
That night Sylvia dreamed. She dreamed of Owen. He was angry with her and they had a huge argument, both of them shouting at each other until her ears hurt. Then she dreamed of Anna, laughing triumphantly—mocking her. Anna’s laugh was high pitched, cold. Her silvery gray eyes flashed in triumph and Sylvia had Owen tethered to her like a puppet or a dog. Owen looked miserable and she couldn’t free him from Anna no matter how hard she tried. She woke up sweating and restless with the pillow held over her ear. She got up earlier than usual trying to shake the disturbing dreams from her head. As she sipped her second cup of coffee, the last vestiges of the dreams had left her, Sylvia laughed. Her mother had always warned her not to eat rich foods right before bed. The crab bisque certainly gave her nightmares! She showered and dressed for work and arrived quite early.
Still restless and frustrated she vented to Gwen via email about Owen, got a cup of coffee and settled into work. Mr. Carter came in and was surprised to find her at work already. He asked how the meeting went and Sylvia shared what happened with him. He was pleased with the overall timbre of the meeting and happy it had not been a negative event.
“I know this is last minute,” Sylvia said, “but do you think I could have this afternoon off as the compensation time you mentioned?”
“Sure,” Mr. Carter told her. “We seem to be in pretty good shape with projects.”
Relieved, Sylvia thought about her afternoon. She wanted to get a pair of sandals for tomorrow’s party and also thought about getting her hair cut. She remembered that she needed to change her license also and called Motor Vehicle to see what she needed.
Carol emailed her to see when she wanted to go for lunch and Sylvia walked down to her office to tell her she was leaving early.
“Lucky dog!” Carol exclaimed when Sylvia told her. “I have some compensation time coming, but I need to finish some of this paperwork,” she said. “Anyways, Mr. Keely would never let me leave without significant notice,” she said rolling her eyes and putting the emphasis on ‘significant’. “Have fun!”
“Thanks,” Sylvia said. “I think I will. I’d like to get a pair of sandals for tomorrow night.” She had shared with Carol about Marian’s party plans.
Carol was impressed. She said goodbye to Carol and then to Mr. Carter and with a happy go lucky ‘have a good weekend,’ stepped out into the summer sunshine. She drove off Thurmont’s property and pulled into a nearby strip mall to pick up a sandwich at a pizza place. Instead she saw a salon that advertised ‘walk-in’s welcome’ and Sylvia parked and walked in to see if they could cut her hair. They could and she sat and closed her eyes and relaxed as the stylist massaged her head and washed her hair. It felt lovely. The stylist double checked with her and Sylvia agreed that she wanted her long hair several inches shorter—closer to her shoulders as it was currently at the middle of her back. She closed her eyes and grimaced when she heard the sound of scissors close to her head. As the stylist trimmed and shaped she asked her where she worked and chatted about topics of general interest. Sylvia had let her hair grow long so that she could be just like Gran. Her goal had been to braid her hair and wrap it around her head, but now she wanted something long enough to French braid, but short enough to look stylish and professional. The stylist had cut her hair on a slight curve so it framed her face nicely. Sylvia left a half hour later pleased with the results and feeling pretty, drove to the Motor Vehicle office to change her license. She went from there to the local mall to hunt for some sandals for the party. After three stores she had found a lovely soft lavender shawl that matched the color of the flowers on her dress, but still no sandals. Discouraged she walked into the last department store. Strappy cream-colored sandals with gold accents and narrow kitten heels were available in her size. They were light and sexy and she bought them immediately. Pleased with all of her accomplishments for the day Sylvia went to a take-out Chinese food restaurant. Realizing she had missed lunch, she treated herself to shrimp toast. Greedily she ate it on the way home before it had a chance to cool down and gulped large quantities of soda as she ate it. Before she went to bed she laid out her dress, shawl and sandals over the kitchen chair to be ready when Marian picked her up in the morning and put together a small bag of toiletries and make-up.
Chapter 16
“Let me bring you songs from the wood:
To make you feel much better than you could know—
Dust you down from tip to toe—
Show you how the garden grows—
Hold you steady as you go—
Join the chorus if you can:
It’ll make of you an honest man.”
--Ian Anderson, Songs from the Wood
With her usual promptness, Marian came to pick her up at 7:30 and Sylvia in cut off jeans and a t-shirt and ready to go.
“I love your hair!” Marian exclaimed. “It’s adorable.”
“Thanks,” Sylvia said smiling. “I definitely needed a little change,” she said brushing her fingers through her slightly wavy and slightly shorter locks.
Marian nodded. “Do you have everything?” she asked.
“I think so,” Sylvia told her.
She picked up her things from the kitchen chair. They put the things in Marian’s ancient Volvo wagon and drove to the U-pick farm. The sun was warm and the strawberries glistened with the bit of remaining dew. They looked like red jewels shining in the sun. Sylvia moved along the rows picking the ripened strawberries. She filled up a couple of quarts in no time, slipping several ripened berries in her mouth along the way. It was pleasant to pick the berries in the warm sunshine. Other women and families were picking and their conversations hummed in the background along with the buzz of insects. Children played along the paths racing each other up and down empty paths and challenging each other to find the largest berries. Sylvia was surprised to see the small auras around the strawberries and the plants as she picked. When she had completed the fourth quart she looked up to see where Marian was. She was a couple of rows over, straw hatted with her head bent over the plants. Sylvia could see that she had picked at least three quarts too. She stood up and stretched in the sun and rubbed at some of the juice stains on her legs and hands before she carried her berries over to Marian.
“I have four quarts,” she told her.
“Perfect,” Marian said, “I’m just finishing up mine too. Aren’t these lovely!”
“They’re delicious,” Sylvia told her. “I’ll have to come back before the season is over.”
“Well, they’re easy to freeze for winter,” Marian told her. “If the weather holds, we could come back next weekend.”
They carried their berries back to the farm stand, paid for and loaded them into the car. Sylvia had specifically not brought up Owen, but she was wondering what he was up to. As if reading her mind, Marian told her that Owen was mowing the lawn and putting finishing touches on the fairy lights. She asked Sylvia if she would assist him in getting the bonfire set up in the meadow.
When they arrived at Marian’s Owen was on the riding mower just as Marian had predicted. Marian waved gaily in his direction and they unloaded the berries. They washed them off and put them to chill in Marian’s extra refrigerator in the basement. Sylvia went out to get her things and Marian led her upstairs to a room where she could change later.
Sylvia walked into the bedroom that had deeply set windows that looked out over the meadow and the forest. The room was like taking a step back in time. There was an antique oak sleigh bed covered in beautiful, snowy, antique linens. Delicate white on white embroidery graced the curtains that framed the windows. Sylvia drew in a breath.
“Marian, this is lovely!” she breathed. “Forget the restaurant idea! You should open a bed and breakfast!”
Sylvia put down her bag and hung her dress and shawl in an antique oak armoire. Then she went over to the window and leaned on the sill. Owen was hanging more fairy lights on the fence near the meadow entrance. She took a minute to lie down on the bed. She stretched luxuriously thinking how lucky she was to have a friend like Marian. It was almost like having Gran around, yet different. Before she began to think about Gran and be sad, Sylvia swung her legs over the side of the bed and went downstairs. She found Marian in the kitchen, sitting at the table checking her list.
“After lunch I’ll have you and Owen fetch some folding chairs and tables from the basement and the punch bowl too,” she said consulting her list.
As if on cue, Owen came inside. He was hot and sweaty.
“Whew!” he said, “it’s starting to get warm out there.” He seemed to be in a better mood and smiled at Sylvia. His mood was more relaxed than the past couple of days.
“I have chicken salad for lunch,” Marian told them, “fresh fruit and mint iced tea. Why don’t we eat and then we can finish setting up.”
Owen pulled out paper plates and napkins while Sylvia poured iced tea and Marian brought out fruit, salad and rolls and set them on the table.
“I was asking Sylvia if you two could help get out the folding tables and chairs from the basement after lunch, Owen,” she said. “I’ll get the linens.”
He nodded in response and she continued, “And then you two can set up the bonfire so that it’s ready to light this evening.”
“All right,” Owen answered. “No problem. I’m glad the weather is holding. It’s warm now, but I heard on the radio that the night will be a bit cooler.”
“Perfect,” Marian said.
They finished eating and it took little time to clean up. Owen and Sylvia made several trips to the cavernous basement that smelled of age and the clay underneath the foundation. They fetched the chairs and tables and then pulled down a dusty punch bowl that was high on a cupboard shelf. Marian pulled linens from somewhere upstairs. She washed the punch bowl while Sylvia and Owen cleaned cobwebs and wiped off the tables and set them on the terrace. Marian brought out the linens and asked them to get the bonfire ready.
The Greening: a novel of romantic suspense...with a touch of magic (The Green Man Series Book 1) Page 19
