Mark nodded. “We had to put a lot of joints in the pipes to get the tub to fit. One probably didn’t seal. I’ll take a look. Will you be okay with Wendy? Leslie had to work late today, but she’ll be by later to pick her up for dance class.”
“Oh, sure.” Minnie shooed him out of her kitchen. “I’ve got some new things to show her.”
“No more cookies.”
Minnie wasn’t sure if he meant his warning for her or his daughter, so she just shrugged. Grandmas were allowed to have their little secrets with their granddaughters. And just because Wendy was her grandniece instead didn’t make one bit of difference. Minnie was morally obligated to do the spoiling her late brother couldn’t.
Mark disappeared upstairs with his toolbox, and Minnie slipped onto the bench opposite Wendy, who was licking chocolate smears off her fingers.
“More cookies, G’ma?”
“Not right now, sweetheart.” She’d sneak one or two later. “Come with me.”
She led Wendy to the back garden where her little patch had produced three perfect pumpkins. There had been eight in all, but two had grown lopsided, two others had been partially eaten by varmints, and one had already rotted. “Remember planting these last spring? We can pick them and decorate them now,” Minnie instructed Wendy, showing her the three round pumpkins.
Wendy studied them up, down, and sideways before selecting the one slightly more oval than a basketball. She tried to pick it up, with a grunt sounding so much like Mark’s, Minnie had to hide a giggle.
“I’ll get it for you, sweetheart.” Minnie hefted the pumpkin and tucked it in the crook of her arm. “I’ve got some stickers we can make a face with.”
“Stickers! Yay!” Wendy jumped up and down and hurried inside.
Minnie followed behind, glad Wendy hadn’t chosen to plant the giant variety of pumpkins. If she had, they’d be decorating those in the yard. There was no way Minnie would be carrying them anywhere else. She placed the pumpkin on the dining room table and retrieved the sticker packet from the counter. She opened the cellophane wrapping and showed Wendy the various noses, eyes, ears, mouths, warts, and scars she could adhere to the pumpkin. Wendy perused the stickers, then selected a gap-toothed grimace for the mouth. Minnie helped her peel it from the paper and Wendy slapped it on the side of the pumpkin. Another mouth, this one with the tongue sticking out, she placed above and to the left of the first one. Soon stickers covered the entire side of the pumpkin.
As Minnie was adjusting the placement of an eyebrow the little girl had stuck partially across the nose, the doorbell rang. “Be right back.” Minnie patted her on the shoulder and headed for the door. She did a quick check in the hall mirror to make sure the autumn wind hadn’t restyled her ivory curls. One should always put on her best face when meeting potential customers. She feathered an errant lock back into place. It was mid-week, so walk-ins would be rare, but all her rooms were available—except the one with the leaky tub.
Minnie opened the door, ready to say, “Welcome to the Lilac Bower,” but stopped before she made it to the second syllable. She clapped her mouth shut and slammed the door. The crash wasn’t loud enough. Nor did it rattle the plastic skeleton hanging on the back of the door. She was tempted to open it and really give it a good swing, but that would mean setting eyes on a man she didn’t care to ever see again. Five decades hadn’t been long enough.
The doorbell rang again, and Minnie wondered if she could disconnect it. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Mark had warned her about playing with wires—or was it only the fuse box? She couldn’t remember. Either way, it’d take too long.
How long could she stall? Maybe he’d go away. Back to whatever prairie dog hill he’d hid in for the last fifty years and stay there.
Fifty years? It couldn’t be so long, but a quick look at the math confirmed it. Seeing him again made it all feel like yesterday.
He rang the doorbell again, this time following it with an insistent knock.
“Open the door, G’ma?” Wendy trotted down the hallway with an eyeball stuck to her cheek. “I do it. I help.” She reached for the door. It came open an inch, then she lost her grip and the door clicked shut.
“It’s just—” and then words failed her. It wouldn’t matter to Wendy who he was. And Wendy would throw a temper tantrum if she tried to hold the door shut. Minnie supposed she couldn’t let him stand out there forever, as much as she’d like to. The sooner she opened the door, the sooner she could send him on his way.
She reached for the handle, but Wendy elbowed her out of the way. “I do it!” She yanked on the door, and Minnie hopped back as it swung on its hinges. It threatened to bounce back and clip Wendy, but Minnie caught it in time. She appreciated Wendy’s determination—even if they weren’t directly related, the little girl had a lot of her great-aunt in her.
Gordon had taken off his fedora and dangled it from his fingertips. His hair hadn’t gone as white as Minnie’s had. Some of the original chocolate brown showed through the silver. She’d hold that against him as well.
“Welcome to the Ick Brer,” Wendy was saying. Minnie grinned to herself. Wendy hadn’t mastered her L’s yet. She gestured to the room as she’d seen Minnie do often enough. “Help you?” she added as Gordon Anderson stepped over the threshold.
Mild amusement crossed his face. His gaze flitted between Minnie and Wendy. “Are you the mistress of this fine establishment?” Gordon asked, kneeling in front of her grandniece.
Wendy crossed her arms over her chest. “Room?”
Gordon rolled his hat in his hands in much the same way Minnie remembered. Although she still recognized his hands, they held scars and age spots that didn’t match with her memories. It disturbed her to think she had missed their development. But it’s his own fault, she reminded herself.
“I would like to reserve your best room. Is it available?”
Wendy pointed to the stairs. “Upstairs. Mommy’s clothes one.” She waved her hand as if she’d explained all he needed to know. She grabbed Minnie’s hand and started to pull her toward the kitchen. “Cookie, G’ma?”
“We’ll get one in a minute.” Minnie patted Wendy’s hand. “Why don’t you go into the kitchen? I’ll be right there.”
Wendy’s eyes narrowed, but she started off down the hall. She stopped halfway and called, “You coming?”
Minnie lowered her voice. “I’m sorry, but there aren’t any rooms available.”
Gordon studied the entryway. She could tell he was cataloging the differences in the foyer and stairs from when they’d been his stomping grounds. Gordon stepped farther inside and extended his hand.
“Good to see you again, Minnie.” He grinned and Minnie felt something inside her quake. His voice–that same deep timbre she’d been seduced by in the moonlight. Some things never changed, no matter how much time had passed.
Why don’t you just go? Minnie wanted to say. I don’t need you back in my life.
A cold burst of wind caught a handful of leaves and tossed them through the open door. Minnie hurried to close it and prevent any further unwanted entrants. She bent to scoop the errant leaves from the mulberry Oriental runner. After crushing the leaves in her hand, Minnie fought the urge to smooth her hair like an infatuated teenager. She dusted the leaves into a wastebasket under the side table, wondering if she could decimate her feelings for Gordon as easily. She wouldn’t be affected by his charm. Not this time.
“Likewise.” She took his hand, noticing the youthful strength beneath the weathered skin. “What brings you back to Carterville?”
“Always right to the point.” He chuckled and let go of her hand. His gaze met hers, then darted away, lingering on the hardwood floors and polished stair railing. “There used to be carpet in here.”
“It wore out.” Years before she’d been able to buy the place. She could still see the orange, brown, and olive geometric pattern the previous owners had replaced it with. She’d danced a jig when Mark had ripped
it out.
Gordon chuckled again. “I suppose a lot of things do after fifty years.” His gaze returned to Minnie and traveled over her from head to toe. He lingered on her face as if searching for something. She wasn’t sure what.
Minnie resisted the urge to fidget under his scrutiny. She wasn’t going to let him disconcert her. Not like before. “You haven’t changed much,” he added.
“Then your eyesight must have. Where are you hiding your trifocals?” Minnie edged toward the kitchen. “I’d best check on Wendy.” When Gordon didn’t head for the door, she added, “You can see yourself out.”
Not her most hospitable moment. Abandonment, regret, and loss reared their heads in ugly ways. After all this time, why did his mere presence agitate her? She headed for the kitchen, ready to forget she’d ever laid eyes on Gordon Anderson again. Her steps barely faltered when she heard the clip of his leather soles on the floor behind her. He was going to be like that, was he?
Minnie grabbed the cookie jar and held it out for Wendy to select another treat. The little girl knelt on the bench next to her napkin. She placed the cookie in the center before raising it to her mouth for a nibble.
Gordon slid into the booth across from Wendy. He dropped his hat on the table. “You’ve done renovations here, too.”
“It’s been a long time, Gordon. Did you expect everything to be waiting exactly as you left it?” Minnie grabbed a potholder off the counter, intending to stash it in a drawer. She paused, considered throwing it at him. It wouldn’t inflict nearly the damage he deserved—waltzing in here with a charming smile, sitting down at her table like he owned the place. She flung the potholder in the appropriate drawer, her eye catching the cast iron frying pan on the stove. Hmmm.
She tucked her hands into her pockets. He was certainly bringing out her worst inclinations and memories. All the emotions she’d buried over and over since returning from the Philippines forced their way to the surface again. A frying pan to the noggin wouldn’t change any of that.
“Those cookies look mighty good,” Gordon hinted. Despite her dainty bites, Wendy had smeared her cookie in a chocolate smile from ear to ear. Minnie wondered why he was hanging around, and what she could do to get rid of him. Would merely denying him a cookie work, or did she have to feed him to get him out the door?
Her hospitable side wouldn’t let her starve him, so she extracted a dish from the cupboard, along with a teacup decorated with hand-painted lilac boughs. She placed a cookie on the saucer. After filling the cup with coffee, she dropped in a teaspoon of sugar and stirred without even thinking about it. Some things you never forgot.
She handed him the cup and saucer, belatedly realizing he would recognize the china set, too. The lilac dishes had been collecting dust in a thrift shop after she’d returned from the Philippines. They’d been Gordon’s mother’s favorite. Minnie had never understood why she’d sold them.
Gordon sipped his coffee. “Perfect. How’d you remember how I liked it?”
Minnie shrugged. How could she have forgotten, would be a better question. “I’m known for catering to my guests.”
Gordon raised his eyebrows. “Where do I register?”
“You’re not staying here.” Minnie jammed the sugar spoon into the bowl. She couldn’t have him under her roof. He’d find out how much she had loved him and how much he’d hurt her. But all of her ideas for getting him to leave would lead to regrets or prison, and orange jumpsuits weren’t her style.
“Minnie, be reasonable. There isn’t another hotel in town. Why wouldn’t I want to stay in my childhood home?” He grinned at her. It was supposed to be teasing.
Minnie’s gaze drifted to the frying pan again.
“Is my old room available?”
She clenched her fists behind her back to keep from grabbing the skillet. “It’s the honeymoon suite. Bachelors usually aren’t interested.” She waited for him to contradict her, to confirm the existence of a Mrs. Anderson.
“Good choice,” he said. “There’s an excellent view of the garden. You could probably charge extra for it.”
The garden. It took her back to the last night they were together. She could feel the crisp night air, cool against her skin. The warmth of Gordon’s breath on her neck as he kissed her. She recalled the rhythm of the band playing in the park across the road, the sound of his voice promising the future.
Minnie closed the door on that thought. “There aren’t any vacancies. I’m all booked up.”
Gordon stood and walked across the kitchen to Minnie. She fumbled for the ties of her apron, desperate for a distraction. He still wore the same Old Spice cologne.
“G’ma, I done.” Wendy held up chocolate smeared hands. “I go find Daddy.” She scrambled out of the booth and dismounted, leaving smudged fingerprints on the table and seat back.
“Hold on there.” Minnie grabbed a washcloth from the sink and swiped it across Wendy’s face and hands. She then wiped the handprints from the table and seat. When all evidence of the second cookie was removed, Minnie sent her on her way.
Gordon watched the little girl skip out the door and down the hallway. “She gets what she wants.”
“That she does.”
“She reminds me of you.”
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment.” Minnie draped the washcloth over the sink divider.
“It was one of my favorite things about you.”
Minnie tightened her lips and adjusted the washcloth. She didn’t want to go there. If she had always gotten what she wanted, then she wouldn’t have to remember what she hadn’t. He would walk out the door in five… four… three… two…
Gordon shrugged. “About a room?”
She guessed she wasn’t so lucky. “No vacancies.”
“Then you should change the sign out front.” Gordon moved closer, and Minnie was reminded how weak in the knees Old Spice made her. She leaned against the counter, hoping it seemed casual and not necessary.
“What sign?” she asked.
“The one that says: ‘Vacancy. Inquire within.’” He met her gaze, and she almost forgot the last fifty years. Despite the wrinkles around his eyes, the intense blue was the same. “I’m inquiring.”
Minnie stepped to the side, bumping into the refrigerator door handle. “Yes, a room. Your old room is available, but it’s the most expensive suite.”
She hoped the expense would send him on his way, but he answered, “Not a problem.”
Frustrated and tempted to reach for the skillet again, she scooted down the hallway. “I’ll go see that it’s ready.”
3
“Why? Why? Why did he have to show up now?” Minnie muttered as she tromped up the steps. Business at the Lilac Bower was taking off. The major redecorating was done, and tourists filled the place each weekend. The fall was typically slow, but she’d devised a marketing plan to change that. She and her friend Edith were going to scare the heebie-jeebies out of the guests with an “authentic” haunted house experience. Who didn’t like a haunted house? No vampires or zombies, but creaking doors, unexplained drafts, singing in the basement, and footsteps in the attic.
She was only half booked for the next few weeks—hopefully, her plan would work and guests would start pouring in. She didn’t need Gordon seeing a floundering business. He would realize she’d had some other reason for investing in the property than its moneymaking potential. She couldn’t let him know she’d purchased it solely to feel close to some of the best moments of her life.
The honeymoon suite was on the third floor at the rear of the house, overlooking the garden. On her way up, she stopped to see Mark on the second floor. She found him crouched next to the access panel of the Jacuzzi bathtub. Several wrenches lay scattered on the floor within arm’s reach, and the bathmat was bunched up to the side.
“How’s it look?” She squatted down to look inside the cabinet.
Mark tilted his head up to look at her. “This fitting is cracked. I’ll have to replace it.” He
pointed to a curve in the drainpipe.
“But what’s causing the spots on the ceiling downstairs?” Minnie asked. “There are water spots all over in the dining room.”
“Maybe the water is seeping into something, then traveling along the floor joists and dripping down. I’ll have to take a closer look. I don’t want to tear out parts of the ceiling, though.”
Minnie grimaced. “I can’t have water dripping on people’s heads, but I can’t afford a major project right now. The driveway did me in this summer. I need to build up my cash reserves again.”
“I can replace this fitting on Saturday and then I’ll check for the water in the ceiling. Do you need this room before then?”
“No. This weekend is almost empty. I’ve got a guest downstairs, but I’m putting him upstairs.”
“In the honeymoon suite?”
Minnie ignored whatever he was implying. “I’d best go and make sure it’s ready. Say, where did Wendy go?”
“She came to say hi, then went to look at Leslie’s room. She thinks it’s funny Mommy used to live here.”
Minnie peeked in on Wendy, who had made a pile of the bed pillows on the floor and was lounging on them, counting something off on her fingers. This room was the last one Minnie had redecorated. It had been entirely purple. Carpet, paint, curtains, bed, and furnishings, all purple. In honor of Leslie’s business aspirations, Minnie had decorated it with pinstripes, herringbones and red silks. She liked to think it looked like a power suit. She had named it The Executive Suite.
She ascended the stairs to the honeymoon suite. How to prepare it for Gordon? She straightened a pillow on the bed, wondering what he would think of the changes she’d made. A large bathroom had been carved out by the doorway, leaving a sitting area on the other side of the door. A flat-panel television hung on the wall across from the bed. His bookshelves were still there, but instead of his toys, Minnie had arranged a decorative glass collection.
On the credenza under the television stood a vase of metal sticks with hearts and clips on their ends. Newlyweds would book this room weeks in advance, so she prepared special things for them. She usually attached notes with well wishes from friends and family on the sticks and intertwined them with white and red roses. She didn’t have time to get fresh flowers today, so she removed the sticks from the vase and hid them on a shelf in the closet.
Hauntings of the Heart Page 2
