Harriet Beamer Strikes Gold

by Joyce Magnin

  “Martha,” Harriet said, “don’t be so pessimistic. Now, come on. The café is just down the street.”

  The same server was there to greet them. “This is my friend from back east, Martha,” Harriet said as Cindy led them to the usual table.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  Martha took the seat across from Harriet.

  “Are you expecting the others?” Cindy asked.

  “Yes,” Harriet said.

  “Okeydokey. It’s a little early for fries, but—”

  “Oh, not today,” Harriet said. “We had a lovely French toast breakfast. Just coffee.”

  “This is nice,” Martha said, looking around.

  “It is nice.” Harriet glanced around. She spied that same woman sitting on the stool at the counter again. She leaned over the table. “Do you see that woman over there? Dark blue pants. Sitting at the counter reading a book.”

  “Yes?”

  “She’s always here, I mean, there, sitting over there. Every time I come in. There she is. Isn’t that weird?”

  Martha shrugged. “I don’t know, if she’s always here when you are doesn’t that mean you’re always here?”

  Harriet had to think about that for a second. “Well, yeah, I guess, but there’s something strange about her. She looks … out of place.”

  “Maybe she’s a spy.”

  “Oh don’t be silly. Why would there be spies in Grass Valley?” Harriet said. She glanced at the woman again and saw Lily making her way toward them.

  “Oh good, there’s Lily. Now you’ll see what I mean.”

  Martha turned. “Is that her? With that black hair?”

  “Yes.” Harriet still couldn’t get used to the black hair, but she was pleased as punch that Lily was wearing one of the outfits she bought her. Green shorts with a pretty blue blouse tucked in and a multi-colored striped belt.

  “Lily,” Harriet said. “You look adorable.”

  “Hi,” Lily said with a wave. She stood by the table. “Thanks.”

  “This is my friend Martha from back east. The one I told you about. She’ll be visiting for a while.”

  “Hi,” Lily said.

  “Go on, sit down,” Harriet said. “Where’s your dad?”

  “He’ll be here soon.”

  Harriet couldn’t help but notice that Martha’s brow had wrinkled like a cheap suit. “What’s wrong, dear?”

  “Nothing,” Martha said. “I was just wondering why she isn’t in school. Is it a holiday?”

  “I don’t go to school,” Lily said.

  “So you graduated?” Martha said.

  Lily shook her head.

  “She dropped out on account of moving around so much with her father,” Harriet said. “But who knows, maybe when we strike it rich you can finish school and go to college.”

  Lily sucked louder on her straw. “Oh, that’ll never happen. Believe me.”

  “Oh now, she doesn’t mean that.” Harriet looked at Martha. “We’ll strike it rich.”

  “No,” Lily said. “I just meant I’m not smart enough to go to college.”

  “Pish,” Martha said. “You certainly are smart enough.”

  “Smart enough for what?” Win said as he took a seat.

  “College,” Martha said.

  “Oh, that,” Win said. “She don’t need college. And you must be Martha, Harriet’s friend.”

  Martha nodded. “And you must be Win.”

  “Dad,” Lily said, “stop making decisions for me. Maybe I’d like to go.”

  “Now hold on, girlie girl, I’m not saying anything new.”

  Lily folded her arms against her chest.

  “Don’t worry. You can go if you want,” Martha said.

  Harriet was surprised at how quickly Martha thought she could speak into Lily’s life. It wasn’t like her. “Maybe we should get down to business.”

  “Good idea,” Win said.

  Cindy came by. “What can I get for you?” she asked Win.

  “Now I know it’s a little early for lunch, but could I get a cup of coffee and French fries for my sweet little filly here?” He touched Lily’s hair. Harriet saw Martha wince when she jerked away. “And I’ll just have a grilled cheese, no pickle, and chips,” Win said.

  “Grilled cheese sounds good,” Lily said. “If we can afford it today.”

  “My treat,” Martha said.

  “Why thank you, ma’am,” Win said.

  “Be right back,” Cindy said. “And would you like a Coke, sweetie?”

  “Sure,” Lily said.

  “So, how long will you be staying?” Win asked Martha.

  “Two weeks,” Martha said.

  “Unless I can convince her to stay longer,” Harriet said.

  Martha smiled. “We’ll see.”

  After a few minutes of idle chit chat, Cindy returned with their orders.

  Harriet watched Win give Cindy a quizzical look.

  “Now I know,” Win said. “Didn’t you used to work at the bakery in Nevada City?”

  “Yeah,” the waitress said. “But I do better here. We never got tips at the bakery, and all I did was stand behind the counter and pass out donuts and cupcakes.”

  Harriet snapped her fingers. “That reminds me,” Harriet said. “I have to get donuts for Humphrey.”

  “Humphrey?” Lily said. “Who is Humphrey?”

  “My dog. He’s a big, fat Basset Hound with ears that drag on the floor when he walks and an insatiable appetite for glazed donuts. Didn’t I tell you about him?”

  Lily laughed. And that was when Harriet realized that that was the first time she had heard Lily laugh. Laugh in a way that sounded genuine.

  “Donuts?” Lily said. “That’s funny. Your dog eats donuts.” Then she looked at the table. “I had a dog once. But we had to give her away after Pop and me started moving around so much.”

  “But,” Win said, “as soon as we make enough money to buy us a pretty little house on a pretty little street, we’re goin’ right down to the pound to pick you out a new pup.”

  Lily shook her head. “Right. I’ll believe that when it happens.”

  “Now, now, dear,” Harriet said. “You must have faith. Faith is the most important thing in life. Well, that and family.”

  “That’s good,” Win said. “You tell her about family and how important it is. In fact, you came out here to live with your son, isn’t that right?”

  “Yes. And his wife. And now they’re having twins. Can you believe that? Twins.”

  “Congratulations,” Lily said. “That’s nice. You never told me much about your daughter-in-law. Lots about Henry, but not much about her.”

  Martha pulled her coffee mug from her lips. “That’s because Harriet never really thought much of Prudence. Until now.”

  “Prudence?” Lily said. “That’s her name?”

  “It suits her,” Harriet said. “No, really, she’s a terrific woman. I’m so proud of her. She’s a lawyer.”

  Win coughed. “A lawyer, you say.”

  “Yes. And a good one. She even serves on the … the … what do you call it?”

  “City council,” Martha said.

  “Yes, that’s it. She’s very smart and knows all about the law.”

  Lily grabbed two fries and dipped them in the ketchup. “These are really good fries.”

  “I know,” Harriet said. “But not as good as some I used to get at the Jersey Shore.”

  “Oh yeah,” Lily said. “Pop and me lived near there for about three months once. Someplace called Browns Mills.”

  Win bit into his grilled cheese. “I was just wonderin’ some-thin’,” he said. “Have you told Prudence and … and Henry, of course, about the gold mine?”

  “Nope. I was gonna, but then I decided to keep it secret for a while. Until after we strike it rich. Keep it a surprise.”

  Win let go a long breath. “That’s good. I mean, that’s right nice of you, Harriet. Surprises are always fun.”

  “I
hope so. I’m thinking I could get them a big head start on the babies’ college education.”

  Win finished his sandwich in only four or five bites. “Anyway, that’s all nice, but first we have to find the gold, and in order to do that we need to move more gravel and dirt.”

  “Right,” Harriet said. “I guess that’s where the backhoe comes in. Are they terribly expensive?”

  “Oh, you got it all wrong, darlin’. We don’t buy a backhoe. Nobody buys a backhoe. We just need to rent it for a while. A few weeks before the rainy season starts.”

  “A few weeks?” Harriet swiped one of Lily’s fries. “It’s gonna take that long to strike gold?”

  Win smiled wide. Cindy came by and asked if they wanted anything else. “No, darlin’, we’re just about to leave.”

  “Maybe even longer than that,” Lily said.

  Martha felt a kick under the table she was certain was meant for Lily.

  “Let’s just see how far we get before the rains come.”

  “Can you still work the mine in the rainy season?”

  “You can,” Win said, “but it can get pretty sloppy up in those hills. We’ll play it by ear.”

  Harriet finished her coffee. “You know what I remembered?” she said.

  “What’s that?” Win asked.

  “I remembered you said you had good news too only you never told me.”

  “Oh yeah, yeah, well, in a way the good news has already been told and has gotten kind of watered down. I was hoping you’d ask for the good news first.”

  “What would you have said?” Harriet asked.

  “Yeah, Pop, what would you have said?”

  “I would have said that we were moving so much dirt and rock and working so hard that we needed the other backhoe. That is good news. It means we’re getting close. More to dig through. Leastways, that’s what my boys tell me.”

  Lily patted her dad’s back. “And the boys are always right, ain’t they, Dad?”

  “They sure are, honey. We got some of the best gold hounds on the job.”

  Certainly not the news Harriet had hoped to hear, but she’d take it.

  Harriet folded her paper napkin and set it in her coffee mug. “Okay, we have lots to do. So maybe we should complete our business.” Harriet pushed the bulging envelope across the table. This time she caught a look in Lily’s eye that she hadn’t really seen before. Surprise? No, it was more like she was looking at something she had no business seeing. But Harriet chalked it up to youth.

  Win stuffed the envelope in his pocket. “I’ll be in touch.”

  “Hold on a second,” Martha said. “Didn’t Harriet say you had pictures to show her? I’d like to see them.”

  “Oh right,” Win said. “Lily has them in that fancy phone of hers. Go on, girl, show the pictures.”

  “Martha was hoping maybe we could go visit the mine. You know, at least the section I saw. The creek, or run, I guess, with all the gold dust in it.”

  “Afraid that won’t be possible,” Win said. “All that dust has been washed clean away.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad,” Harriet said.

  “Sure is,” Win said. “These pictures will have to suffice.”

  Lily tapped her phone a couple of times and then tilted the screen so all could see.

  Harriet looked at a picture of a funny looking machine sitting in a dirt pile.

  “That’s the beast,” Lily said. She swiped through the pictures fast. “This is the backhoe, the one we just got. The sluice box. And this is the main stream.”

  Harriet looked at the pictures. They really didn’t look all that different from the ones she had already seen. Martha didn’t say a word. Not a single word.

  Chapter Eighteen

  HENRY MANAGED TO COMPLETE ANOTHER CHAPTER EVEN though his mind kept wandering to thoughts about the babies, money, Prudence, and the coming building project.

  Prudence hadn’t called, so Henry was taking that as a good sign that she had gotten past her morning sickness today.

  “I hate to throw up, Humphrey. It’s my least favorite thing to do.”

  Humphrey said, “Woof.”

  “Except in this case, if I could be sick for her, I would be—gladly.” Henry saved his file. “Come on, old man, let’s go out.”

  Henry opened the deck doors and Humphrey trotted directly to his second favorite bush. Unfortunately, it was on the side of the house and would probably be dug up when the builders got there Monday.

  “Sorry, Humphrey, you might have to find another place.”

  Henry stretched his arms over his head. The way the doctor showed him. It was easy to get tired and stiff sitting at his desk all day. This was something he could never understand. Why sitting was tiring. He’d maybe go on a run a little later.

  Humphrey was busy sniffing around the grass and trees, even stopping to roll on his back with his tongue lolled out. Henry sat down at the deck table. The noon sun felt warm and nice on his face. He wasn’t expecting Florence Caldwell, but she showed up.

  “Yoo-hoo, Henry,” she called. She carried a pie onto the deck.

  “Mrs. Caldwell,” Henry said. He straightened himself up quickly.

  “Oh, sit,” she said. “Be comfy. You work hard. Most people don’t know how hard artists work.”

  Henry liked the sound of that. Yes. He was an artist. And he did work hard.

  “I brought you a strawberry/rhubarb pie,” Mrs. Caldwell said.

  “Oh boy,” Henry said. “I could go for a slice right now.”

  “Coming right up.” She nodded toward the deck doors.

  “Certainly. Mom is in town and Prudence is in Sacramento. I’m by myself today.”

  “Oh, you poor thing,” Mrs. Caldwell said. “Well, you just sit there, and I’ll get you a slice. Do you have any ice cream? A scoop of vanilla would go just perfectly.”

  “We might,” Henry said.

  Henry sat down at the table, feeling rather good. He didn’t mind being pampered a little, although if Prudence was there she would have something to say.

  A few minutes later, Mrs. Caldwell returned with pie. Two slices. She sat down at the table.

  “Thank you,” Henry said. He tasted the pie. It was, of course, delicious. “You know, if I open a restaurant, you will come bake pies for me, won’t you?”

  “Why, Henry, are you thinking about doing that? I didn’t know you were a chef.”

  “Thinking about it, yes. I love to cook, and everyone says I have a knack for it. But I would have to go to culinary school.”

  “What about your books?”

  He swallowed. “Oh, I’d still write, but with the babies coming and all, I’ve been worried about money. I like the idea of a steady income.”

  “Only natural,” she said. “But Mr. Caldwell and I always found that somehow we’d get by. No matter what. You watch. You’ll do fine. Wait a minute, did you say babies? As in more than one?”

  “Yes. We’re expecting twins. I guess you haven’t heard.”

  “No, I hadn’t. That is exciting news.” She hugged Henry. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Caldwell.”

  It was nearly three o’clock by the time Harriet and Martha arrived home, groceries and donuts in hand. Harriet figured Henry would be busy in the den and she didn’t want to disturb him, so Harriet and Martha carried all the groceries inside. Well, with Humphrey’s help. He kept close to her ankles. He was looking for the donuts and she knew it.

  “Okay, okay. I didn’t forget. Let me get my sneakers off and some of this cold stuff put away.”

  Harriet put the fish and raspberries in the fridge while Martha helped to empty bags. Humphrey whimpered and stared at the last bag.

  “He really loves those donuts,” Martha said.

  “He does. It’s the craziest thing. He would eat the whole dozen.”

  “You better not let him, dear. Only Prudence is eating for two … er, I mean three.”

  After giving Humphrey his donut,
Martha suggested more coffee and Harriet happily agreed. “I bet the aroma will flush Henry out of his cave.”

  “You must be very proud of him,” Harriet said.

  “I am,” Harriet said. She dropped a filter into the coffeemaker. “But … sometimes I still feel a little disappointed.”

  “Disappointed?”

  “I just wish he had kept Max’s business. I think they would be doing much better. No matter what he says.”

  “Not for you to say. He has to be who he is. And I think he’s doing terrific.”

  “I know.” Harriet sat down at the table and broke a glazed donut in two. She bit one side and chewed. “Sometimes I feel bad because he did it so sneakily. Didn’t tell me until the papers were signed.”

  “He was afraid of hurting you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “He told me.”

  Harriet stopped chewing and swallowed a large chunk of donut. “You mean you knew—all along?”

  “Not all along. But yeah, I knew. I’m sorry, Harriet, but we both thought it would be better if you didn’t know. Henry had to do it. He was miserable.”

  “No excuse. Max wasn’t always thrilled to go to work, but he did it because he had to.”

  “Harriet. Isn’t it better to have a happy son?”

  “I suppose. But, I can’t seem to let this go. He’s an artist. Just like you. Just like Lily.”

  “Lily?” Martha said.

  “Yeah, she told me she draws but doesn’t have much time for it anymore.”

  “And I bet you encouraged her.”

  Harriet nodded. “Sure, but … okay, I see where this is going.”

  “Right,” Martha said.

  “But what about Wyatt? Is he doing what you hoped and planned and dreamed he would?”

  “So how is Humphrey adjusting?” Martha asked as she rubbed him behind his ears. “I know he’s been here longer than you, but it’s still a big change.”

  “I think he loves it out here. He has a much bigger yard than we had back home, and I think he likes having Henry around. They’ve really bonded.”

  Martha kissed the dog on the nose.

  “He’s not too crazy about Sandra Day, though,” Harriet said. “That silly cat tortures him.”