Back to McGuffey's

by Liz Flaherty

She phoned Mr. Hayes, catching him on his way to mow the lawn at the Presbyterian church. Talking loudly over the noise of the lawn tractor, he promised to stop in to discuss the job with Mrs. Hylton-Wise.

  Kingdom Comer was going to be full for the weekend. It always was. As much as Kate enjoyed both the guests and the inn itself, she was tired. Samantha had filled in for her at the inn a couple of times and Kate had spent quite a few evenings working at McGuffey’s, but she hadn’t had a weekend off all summer. It would be nice to not prepare breakfast for anyone but herself and to not make beds or wash towels for at least a day.

  Kate had been known to make a tube of mascara last from Josh’s christening to Michael’s second birthday party three years later, but she had worn makeup every day since Marce left for the lake. Her skin was probably wrinkling and getting ready to fall off from the pressure.

  The thought made her laugh at herself as she went into the kitchen to finish the morning’s chores. Ben and Jayson were at the table with flash cards and a plate of cinnamon rolls left over from breakfast. “Coffee?” she asked, taking a half-eaten pastry from Ben’s hand. “I need to make it for the parlor anyway.”

  “I could force it down, and my friend here is always up for another box of liquid sugar. Aren’t you, Jayson?”

  Jayson, whose mouth was already tinged purple from the juice he’d just finished, nodded eagerly.

  Kate brought the coffee carafe and the juice to the table. “How are your folks doing? Are they enjoying being back in Ireland?” She sat down with them.

  “They are. I think they’ve even stopped fretting about the tavern. Dylan told Mom he’d scorched her favorite stockpot just to get her going and she told him not to worry about it—pots could be replaced.”

  “That’s scary.” Kate loved Ben’s mother, but she was nervous if she was going to work with her at the tavern—Maeve was beyond territorial with her kitchen.

  He sobered, looking silently at the contents of his cup for a minute. “We laughed about it, but we also figured she was thinking about losing Pop. She says he tires very easily, but wants to do and see something different every day. They’ve connected with old school friends and cousins they’d forgotten they had.”

  “Are you sorry they’re gone? It’s time you won’t have with Tim.”

  “No. One thing about knowing what we know is that we were able to say the things that needed saying. Even if the worst happens and Pop doesn’t come home, we’ll know that the last time we saw him, he kissed us all goodbye. He said he loved us and told us boys to ‘look after Morgan, she’s but a wee lass.’ That wee lass can take excellent care of herself and we all know it, including Pop, but it was a great moment for all of us.”

  “I need to call my dad,” said Kate. “I talk to Mom all the time, but Daddy always just yells ‘tell her to keep her doors locked and to check the tread on her tires before she goes driving around on the mountain. She drives like a girl.’ Sarah insists that she’s his favorite because she doesn’t drive like a girl, though neither of us knows exactly how a girl drives.”

  “Tell him I’m here and I’m growing my ponytail back.”

  Jayson leaned around in his seat to look at the back of Ben’s head. “You’re a boy. You can’t have a ponytail.”

  “Oh, yes, he can.” Kate reached for the wallet lying on the counter behind her and shuffled through the pictures she carried, coming up with a picture of Ben. He was on skis, his helmet and goggles hanging from his hand. He was partially turned away from the camera and his ponytail was clearly visible against the back of his blue jacket. “There he is. He was seventeen and all set to win the Wish Mountain Cup.”

  Too late, she realized Ben now knew she carried his picture in her wallet. A twenty-year-old picture. She met his green gaze, noted the amusement in it and glowered at him. “Not one word, tall guy, or you’ll suffer for it till the day you die.”

  “Oh, no, ma’am.” He grinned at her.

  “Is that you, Ben?” Jayson looked hard at the picture. “You look goofy.”

  Kate whooped. “He does, doesn’t he?”

  Ben snapped a rubber band around the flash cards. “I’m going to ride home with young Jayson here now that he’s done his homework. I need to go by the hospital to check on last night’s patients. I’ll be back this afternoon.”

  The dishwasher was loaded and fresh coffee and cookies were on the serving cart in the front parlor when the back door opened. When she saw who it was, Kate dropped the stack of towels destined for the rooms full of cyclists.

  “Marce!” Kate stepped over the towels to hug the inn’s owner. “Is everything all right? Am I fired?”

  Marce laughed, returning the hug. “Frank’s folks came to spend a week at camp. It gave me a chance to check on things here and see my parents while giving the girls and their grandparents some private time. You’re not fired by any means, but if you’d like a few days off, I’m a pretty good desk clerk.”

  “Good grief, do you have ESP or something? I was just having a nice internal whine about no days off.”

  “Hey, I’m a mother. Things like ESP and eyes in the back of the head just kind of develop on their own.”

  Something Kate wasn’t likely to find out. But the thought wasn’t as painful as it sometimes was. Maybe she was getting used to the idea that some dreams were just that—dreams.

  “Are you enjoying it more at the camp? I thought that first week you were going to come right back home.” She knelt to pick up the towels she’d dropped and laid them on the island to refold them. “Coffee’s fresh.”

  Marce was already pouring some. “I wanted to, believe me.” She sat where Ben had earlier and reached for a towel. “But then something happened.”

  A new sound in her voice alarmed Kate. “Happened? Are the girls okay?”

  “They’re fine. The camp next to the one Frank’s family owns was always vacant. The house was tumbling down and the pier had nearly rotted away. The Comers and the people on the other side kept the grass mowed, but that was virtually all the upkeep there was. Imagine our surprise when we got there and found a pristine little cottage, a new pier and a boat tied up to it. I hadn’t seen a boat—or any other sign of life—there in all the years I’ve gone there with Frank and his family.” Marce’s eyes sparkled with the most enthusiasm Kate had seen in her since Frank died.

  “Well, that’s neat. Did you meet the neighbor?”

  “Yes, about a week after we got there. He came to the front door carrying this huge black cat and suggested that we keep our animals at home. He was rather huffy about the whole thing, to tell the truth.” Marce sniffed. “He put the cat down and left.”

  “He didn’t wait to hear that it wasn’t your cat?”

  “Oh, no, not for a minute. And of course, I just stood there gaping while the cat made himself at home on the sofa. Finally I picked him up and carried him right back. He was a lovely cat,” she added. “I really like how you’ve arranged the table linens.” She gestured toward the open shelves beside the door into the dining room. “They look like a rainbow instead of a closet you’re afraid to open the door on.”

  “Then what?”

  “What?” Marce looked confused—a little too purposefully so, Kate thought. “Oh, the cat. Well, the cat and I marched right over and knocked on the door and told the man—he was lovely, too, by the way—that Shingles didn’t belong to me.”

  “Shingles?” Kate interrupted. She finished folding the towels and went to put them on the table at the bottom of the back staircase. She would take them up as soon as she heard the rest of the story that had Marce blushing like a teenager on her first date.

  “Well, yes, because he spends so much of his free time on the shed roof—either ours or Nick’s.”

  “Nick?”

  “Yes. Pay attention, Kate. Nick is the next-door neighbor who bought and fixed up the camp and yelled at me and left Shingles with me.”

  “And what did Nick do when you took Shingles back?”r />
  “He invited me in for a drink. He said he’d been looking for an original way to meet me and Shingles had served that purpose beautifully. After we had the drink, well, two actually—they were small—I invited him over for dinner. The next day, I gave Shingles a few filets from the fish the girls had caught. I thought he’d earned them.” Her face shone with a delight Kate hadn’t seen there in a very long time.

  “Speaking of the girls, what do they think of Nick?”

  “They like him a lot. And...oh, Kate, I never thought I’d be happy again. I’d thought I’d be like Joann eventually, you know, fully content with being single. We’ve been friends for so long, like you and Penny, and I just thought our lives were going to be parallel, but they’re not. Jo loves being single, but I just tolerate it. We’re taking it a bit slow—I mean, I still have the girls to consider—but I’m in love with Nick, just as sure as the sun rises in the morning.”

  “I’m so glad for you.” And she was, although envy tried to crowd in there, too. She pushed it aside. “What would Frank think of him?”

  “He’d like him, I think. His parents do. And I know, beyond the shadow of any kind of doubt, that he’d want this for me. He’d be happy that I’m happy.”

  Kate remembered what Marce had said only weeks ago when Kate had asked her if she thought she’d ever love someone again. Maybe. But not that way. You only get that once. “Is it the same?” Kate asked, sounding wistful enough to be embarrassed by it. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

  “I don’t mind.” Marce got up, refilling their cups. She stopped for a moment to touch the worn countertop at the baking station Kate knew Frank had designed and assembled to his wife’s specifications. “No, it’s not the same, but it’s quite lovely in its own way. I’ll miss Frank Comer till the day I die, but I’m thrilled to be happy again.”

  “I’m so glad,” Kate said again. “Would you do anything different, Marce, if you could start over again? Knowing what you know now, I mean.”

  “You mean, would I still marry Frank if I’d known he was going to die young?”

  “Yes. Would you? Would you have had kids if you’d known you were going to be a single mother?”

  “I’m one of the lucky ones, I guess. I wouldn’t give up a minute with Frank for anything in the world. Even the bad minutes, which I have to admit always lasted a lot more than a minute. Same with the kids. If I hadn’t been married, I’d probably have still found a way to be a mother. I’m not like Penny is, you know, the quintessential earth mother, but it was important to me.”

  “Would you have adopted?”

  “Sure.” Still wandering around the kitchen, Marce found the pastries left from breakfast and put two on a plate. She sat at the island and took a bite, rolling her eyes in bliss. “I’ve missed this. The stove in the camp isn’t as good as the one here and I can’t bake there to save my life.” She smiled at Kate. “That biological clock ticking loud, is it?”

  “Sometimes.” Kate’s answer was instant and unexpected. By Kate herself, anyway. Sometimes? She sat across from Marce and lifted her cup to her lips. “Not always.”

  * * *

  “MARCE!” RETURNING FROM taking Jayson home followed by a few hours’ work at the hospital, Ben gave the innkeeper a hug that lifted her off her feet. “Are you back?”

  “Just for a long weekend.” She kissed his cheek, then squinted up at him. “Are you still staying here? I should have just sold you the garage. Won’t Dylan share your mum and dad’s place with you?”

  “He would, but he’d also share the cleaning of it, the mowing of its yard, and the painting of its front and back door. Mom conveniently left the paint in the laundry room. With several pages of instructions, I might add, and new brushes.” Not to mention—and he wasn’t going to mention it—he loved sharing premises and breakfast with Kate. Walking Lucy with her in the evening was his favorite part of most days.

  Kate brought him a cup of coffee. His fingers touched and tangled with hers when he took it from her. The warmth moved up his arm, and he had to put the cup down quickly before he dropped it.

  “I have the weekend off,” she said brightly. “The whole thing plus Monday and Tuesday.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “What are you going to do? I’m sure there’s room for you behind the bar at McGuffey’s.”

  “Nope.” She sat at the table across from him. “I’m doing something different. Mr. Hayes and Jayson are going to work on the landscaping at Bright Sky—that’s the name of Mrs. Hylton-Wise’s house—and I’m going to keep an eye on Jayson and stay there for the weekend to inventory the furnishings. Mrs. Hylton-Wise is preparing it for sale and doesn’t want to do any more of the tedious stuff than she has to. I, on the other hand, live for tedium—besides which she’s paying me a nice little amount to do it.”

  She grinned at him, her golden-brown eyes sparkling, and Ben felt himself sinking. Again.

  “Want a ride out there?” Wherever “there” was—he never had known the exact location of Mrs. Hylton-Wise’s house.

  Kate’s eyes lit—and he continued to sink. “That’d be great. Then Debby could drive my car to work. Hers is misbehaving again.” She started toward the hallway. “I haven’t been to Bright Sky yet, but I have a sneaking suspicion this house would be out of place on Alcott Street.”

  An hour later, her suspicion proved to be correct. The driveway up the side of Wish Mountain to Bright Sky was nearly as long as the town of Fionnegan was from one city limits sign to the other. “It’s in better condition, too,” Ben commented. “We haven’t fallen into a single pothole.”

  The house was large and beautiful, built from logs and roofed in dark green steel. Big windows peered in every direction. A small guesthouse, a miniature of the main house, sat to one side. A pond complete with a fishing dock was visible out back, sheltered by the mountainside.

  Ben parked in front of the house. “This looks like one of those celebrity houses in Stowe that you see on Sunday afternoon TV when there aren’t any sports on.” All it needed was a security gate and a maid in uniform answering the door. Of course, they hadn’t gone to the door yet—that could still happen.

  Kate got out of the car and looked around. “I still wonder why she doesn’t stay here when she comes to Vermont. I know she comes out and checks on it. Then she comes back to the inn and stays in her room for the rest of the day. She’s a mystery lady.”

  Ben joined her, carrying her backpack and her laptop bag. “She is, but her philanthropy is showing up here and there. Did you know Jayson has a new bicycle coming? She walked past when I was in the yard showing him how to change his tire the other day. We talked for a while—and Jayson explained what we were doing to her, telling her in the process that his bicycle made Ben use bad words. She went on about her business, but Len from the Chain and Sprocket called me while I was at the hospital today and said we could pick up the new bike Monday.”

  “We’ll probably never know what makes her tick, but I’m glad she’s grown so fond of Jayson.” Kate reached into the pocket of her shorts, coming out with a slip of paper. “The code to get into the house. If I lose this, I’ll have to spend the weekend on the patio out back eating wild blackberries foraged on the mountain.”

  “Nah.” He pushed the door open when the lock clicked. “You could go home with Jayson and Mr. Hayes, though you might have to ride in the back of the truck.”

  “They’re not coming out until tomorrow. I could get pretty cold and hungry by then.” The interior of the house was no less elaborate than the exterior, with exposed log walls in the main living area and more bedrooms and bathrooms than there were at Kingdom Comer. Fully half of the first floor was taken up by a great room, with French doors leading from the dining area to a huge patio.

  Kate set her laptop down on the kitchen island and knelt to look at the bottles of wine in the built-in rack. “I’ve spent my adult life hovering somewhere between lower middle class and abject poverty—I think it’
s time to give wealthy a try.”

  Ben laughed, pulling her up. “Go for it. You’ve got all weekend.” He loved how she felt against him, so he just held her there.

  She relaxed. “You want to come back up and have dinner with me? Maybe steaks and something unhealthy on the side? Mrs. H-W encouraged me to take advantage of the pantry and freezer and—dare I say it?—the wine rack. She knew that was safe, since I can’t tell the difference between wine from a box and stuff in dusty bottles that has names I can’t pronounce.”

  “You should have paid attention in French class. Or Italian. One of them.” He bent his head to hers, tunneling his hand into the soft, silky warmth that was her hair, and covered her mouth with his. The kiss tasted as warm and sunny as her hair felt between his fingers.

  “I didn’t take—”

  He kissed her again. “I know,” he said, drawing away. Just a hairbreadth. “You took German with Fraulein Müller, just like we all did.” This would be a great way to spend the rest of the day. He sat on one of the tall bar stools at the island, pulling her in close and fitting her body against his.

  “Not for the same reasons.” She didn’t open her eyes, and her voice sounded whispery and weak. He loved it. “We girls took it so we could sound sophisticated and...you know, bilingual. You boys took it because you all had licentious thoughts about Fraulein Müller.”

  “That’s not true. The only guy in school who might have had a crush on Fraulein Müller was Dylan. But he seemed pretty busy taking you out on dates.”

  Kate grinned at him and drew away, moving to the refrigerator and opening it. “Hey, we went to a lot of dances while you were skiing or in college. But that was all, and you know it.” She opened the French doors of the stainless-steel appliance. “Oh, Jayson will be thrilled. Juice in boxes.”

  Ben followed her around the island, peering into the refrigerator. “Juice but no wine?”

  “Right.” She looked at him, her eyes suddenly serious. “And that’s the way it was running around with Dylan. We danced, went to ball games, even some parties we didn’t want to get caught at—your dad and my dad would have killed us—but our time was like juice with some carbonation added for fun.” Her arms hooked around his neck. “You and me, tall guy—that was the wine.”