Autumn Dreams

by Gayle Roper

  “Turn off that shower, you idiot in there!”

  “Yeah, yeah,” muttered Tuck, not answering.

  “Without electricity we can’t heat any more,” the old man shouted.

  “Like I care,” Tuck screamed back. He climbed out when the water turned cool and he was all pruney. He felt much better. Even his poor hands didn’t hurt as much.

  It was time to call California and see how things were there.

  The phone was answered on the second ring. “Best residence. May I help you?”

  Tuck rolled his eyes. No one sounded as stuffy and self-important as Mr. Beauchamps, the family butler. “Hey, Mr. B.,” he said with deliberate disrespect, “it’s Tucker.” He loved to hear the old man’s voice go extra frosty.

  Instead of the expected cool acknowledgment, Mr. Beauchamps positively bubbled as he said, “Oh, Tucker, I’ve the most wonderful news. They think they may have found her!”

  Tuck went cold all over. “What?”

  “Your parents think they may have found her. They think she’s in New Jersey! They tried to call you last night to share the good news, but you didn’t answer. They left you messages, but I guess you didn’t get them.”

  “No, I didn’t.” But Lonnie would have. Good-bye, Lonnie. You haven’t got a chance now. Enjoy your last hours of life.

  “They’ve flown to check it out,” Mr. Beauchamps said.

  “What?” Tuck felt the words like a punch to the chest. “Already?”

  “Mr. Best had the plane brought out last evening as soon as they traced the number that kept appearing on your caller ID gizmo. They flew out to see if it’s really Sherri who had been calling.”

  Tuck flinched. Hoist by his own petard, whatever a petard was. He should have hidden that little electronic troublemaker. Or destroyed it. “But there’s a hurricane hitting New Jersey right now.”

  “Is there?” Old Beauchamps sounded surprised. “I didn’t know that.”

  Tuck could have kicked himself. How would he, vacationing in Hawaii, know about New Jersey’s weather? Why would he be interested? “Yeah. I saw it on the Weather Channel.” Did Hawaii get the Weather Channel? “What I meant was that I don’t think they could land.”

  “Well, maybe they will land at New York or Boston and drive to Seaside.”

  Seaside! They really did have it pegged. “It’s great news about Sherri, if it is her,” Tuck forced himself to say with what he hoped was heard as excitement. Then he hung up and began to sweat and plot in earnest.

  He simply had to find her.

  Thirty-Two

  CASS AND DAN arrived at SeaSong close to 11 A.M., racing each other from the garage to the back door.

  “I beat you,” Cass yelled as she dashed in the door holding her Indiana Jones hat on with one hand so the wind didn’t steal it from her head.

  “Only because I’m polite enough to let you go first,” Dan countered.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Cass grinned at him. “It’s a good line.”

  “Now, children, be nice,” Jared said, hugging Cass and shaking Dan’s hand. “Hard driving?”

  “Very nasty,” Dan said. “The wind kept trying to push us off the road, and the driving rain made visibility very poor.”

  “He did great,” Cass said, grabbing a couple of dish towels and mopping up the water they’d brought in. She looked from Jared to Jenn to Brenna. “Have we heard anything from the software folks? Have they canceled? Or called to say they’ve been delayed?”

  “No one’s called, so we’re acting as if they’ll be here for lunch as planned,” Jenn said as she threw herself into Cass’s arms. “Welcome home.”

  Cass kissed her niece, delighted with the warm greeting. The kitchen looked toasty and homey with a pair of Coleman lanterns hissing softly, but the hugs were what filled Cass’s heart.

  “Are you doing okay, sweetie?” She studied Jenn’s face carefully.

  Jenn nodded. “I’m fine.” Both she and Cass ignored the fine tremor that flashed across her face. “Really. I still can’t believe how stupid I was, but I’m fine.”

  Cass gave the girl a quick hug. “Of course you’re fine. I don’t know why I even asked. You’re a Merton, for Pete’s sake.”

  Dan wrapped one arm about Jenn’s shoulders and the other about Cass’s. “And Merton women are pretty special, let me tell you.” He smiled from one to the other.

  Cass felt warmed as she watched Jenn turn pink with pleasure. She dropped her head briefly to Dan’s shoulder, snaked her arm around his waist, and squeezed. “Thanks.”

  “How about Merton men?” Jared asked, his hand in the Cheerios box.

  Jenn blew him a kiss. “They, as we all know, are big bozos—not!”

  Brenna glanced over her shoulder from the counter where she stood blinking away tears as she cut thin, thin slices of onion. “You want to check that I’m doing this right, Cass?”

  Cass moved to the food preparation area. Tuna mixed with mayonnaise and a touch of salt and pepper sat in a bowl. Several crisp Gala apples lay in a cluster, waiting attention. Two bags of Pepperidge Farm thin whole wheat bread rested against the bowl of tuna. “Looks like you guys don’t even need me. We should have stayed in Cape May, Dan. We never did get to use their hot tub.”

  “Hot tub,” said Brenna in a yearning voice. “I can’t remember the last time I soaked in one.”

  “Humph,” Jenn said. “I don’t know that I ever did.”

  “Don’t feel too bad,” Dan said to Cass. “I checked, and it was on the roof under a lattice sunshade. We’d have been pounded with cold rain while we tried to relax in the bubbly warmth—that is, if we weren’t blown away trying to cross the roof to get to it. Didn’t sound appealing to me.”

  Cass laughed as she walked to the stove. Her nose told her the chicken corn soup she’d made several days ago and frozen was heating gently.

  “Three cheers for gas,” Cass said as she lifted the lid of the soup pot and stirred. “If we had an electric stove, we’d be in trouble.”

  “You know, Cass, I’ve been thinking.” Brenna sliced another paper thin sheet of onion. “These software guys are supposed to eat dinners out, right?”

  Cass nodded.

  “But will there be any restaurants open tonight? No electricity? Flooded roads?”

  “You’re right. Jenn, pull three containers of my spaghetti sauce with meatballs from the freezer, please.” Cass gave the soup another stir. “Then check in the pantry to be certain we have three boxes of spaghetti.”

  Dan leaned over her shoulder and sniffed appreciatively at the simmering pot. “Talk about smelling wonderful!”

  She lifted out a spoonful and held it to him. “Careful. It’s very hot.”

  He blew on it for a minute, then tasted. His eyes closed in appreciation. “Deeeelicious!”

  “That’s because I use creamed corn,” Cass said. “It makes the broth extra rich.”

  He grabbed the spoon from her hand. “I’m going to stay at SeaSong forever, Cass Merton. I want to eat food this good the rest of my life.” He dipped the spoon for another taste.

  Forever, eh? Fine with me. She smiled sweetly and said only, “I’m glad you like it. It’s my grandmother’s recipe.”

  She turned to Jared. “I take it the tables are grouped in the dining room as I asked? And set?”

  He nodded. “All done.”

  “Good. I’ll just go check.” She grabbed a large flashlight and walked into the dining room where smaller tables had been pushed together to seat seven, three settings on each side and one at the head. The crimson tablecloth looked smart with the white dishes and the crimson, gold, and deep green napkins. A fabric pumpkin sat in a nest of Spanish moss while small gourds spilled down the table in both directions. She fiddled with the gourds a little until their conformation pleased her, then placed votive candles at each place. A Coleman lantern stood ready for duty on the hutch.

  Satisfied, she went back to the kitchen.

  “Where’s Dan?�
�� she asked.

  “He went upstairs to change into dry stuff and unpack,” Jenn said.

  Nodding, Cass turned to the counter where Brenna had moved from the onions to the apples, slicing them as thinly as she could and placing the slices in a dish containing orange juice to stop the browning of the tender fruit. “Looking good.”

  Cass turned to Jenn. “Get the medium-sized basket down, the one with the green strands woven through it, and line it with a napkin to match the ones on the table. Get several kinds of crackers from the pantry. Don’t open them though. They’ll lose their crispness by the time we serve if you do.”

  Jenn disappeared into the pantry, and Cass opened the loaves of bread. She laid the slices out before her and spooned some tuna mixture onto each, spread it, and topped each with a gossamer thin onion slice. Next she fished apples slices out of the orange juice, blotted them dry and arranged a fan of them on top of the onion. She went to the refrigerator and took out a package of thinly sliced Swiss cheese. Carefully she separated the slices and placed one over the apples. As she finished each sandwich, she placed it on a cookie sheet, ready to slide in the oven for a quick melting of the cheese.

  “Will these guys appreciate something this creative?” Brenna asked as she eyed the open-faced sandwiches. “Computer geeks aren’t known for culinary awareness.”

  Cass shrugged. “We’ll just try to teach them class while they’re here.”

  Jenn reappeared with the basket and boxes of crackers. “I’ll put them on the serving hutch in the dining room.”

  Jenn returned to the kitchen and came to stand beside Cass. She watched Cass build a couple of sandwiches without saying a word.

  “What?” Cass finally said, unnerved by Jenn’s stare.

  “I need to say thank you and tell you how much I appreciate you.” Jenn sniffed, and Cass looked up to see tears in the girl’s eyes.

  “Now, don’t cry, Jenny. It’s all over. You’re safe and sound. Just know I love you very much, and I’d hug you, but I can’t.” She held out her messy hands.

  “Then I’ll hug you,” Jenn said and did.

  The back door opened and Jared and Paulie cannoned in, water dripping from the bills of their baseball caps. They both wore big black plastic bags over their jackets, holes cut in the tops for their heads. Their jeans were soaked from the knees down, and their shoes squished when they walked.

  “I didn’t even know you went out,” Cass said to Jared. She bit her tongue so she wouldn’t give a lecture about hurricane safety and the wisdom of wandering about in wind and weather like this. “Where’ve you been? Besides Paulie’s, I mean.”

  “We went down to the boardwalk to see the action,” he said, taking off his hat and shaking his head like a great Saint Bernard. Some of the flying drops landed on Flossie, asleep on the back of her favorite love seat. She hunched her back, hissed, scowled malevolently at Jared, and flopped back in the same position.

  “It’s great out there!” Paulie said, his eyes sparkling. “I’ve never seen the waves so big.”

  “Didn’t you two ever hear of a tidal surge?” Cass demanded.

  “No tidal surge here,” Jared said. “The wind’s blowing out to sea, not in from it.”

  “The wind blew me right across the boardwalk,” Paulie said. “Blew me right up against the railing.”

  “I want to see,” Jenn cried.

  “You’ll blow away,” Cass protested.

  “Get your rain stuff,” Jared said.

  Jenn ran upstairs, moving faster than Cass had seen her move in weeks.

  “Is this safe?” Cass asked, wishing she, too, could go get blown across the boardwalk and watch the wild sea. It sounded wonderful.

  “It’s fine,” Jared said. “No danger. Rodney’s only a class one.”

  “Only a class one,” Cass said as some shingles from someplace flew past the window.

  Paulie started waving his hands. “And the wind’s blowing away, out to sea. The huge waves crest, and boom! The wind blows all the spume and lots of the wave backwards so it falls down behind the waves instead of rushing to the beach. There’s the fun of seeing all the big waves without the worry of seeing them eat all the sand.”

  “That’s good. We’ve got to keep those beaches to keep those tourists,” Cass said. Losing them to major storms was a matter of millions of dollars of lost revenue.

  Jenn clattered down in her red hooded raincoat and duck shoes.

  Jared pointed to her feet. “They won’t do you much good. The streets are full of water.”

  Jenn shrugged and pulled the back door open. Wind and rain poured in. “So my feet get wet. Yours are wet.”

  “Wait a minute,” Cass called. “Are there electrical lines down?”

  “Not that we saw,” Jared, standing on the back step, yelled over the roar of the wind.

  Cass frowned. “You could get electrocuted if wires are down in standing water, and you walk in that water.”

  “Well, yeah.” Jared stared at her as if to say, And you had a point?

  Cass grabbed a towel and wiped her hands. “If you’re going out to brave the elements, I want a kiss from all of you before you go. In fact, I want a kiss from you before you go anywhere anytime.” She walked into the stream of wind and rain.

  Paulie leaned down for her kiss first. She bussed him on the cheek and then patted the same cheek. “Thanks, Aunt Cass.” He kissed her back.

  Aunt Cass, huh? “Thank you, Paulie.”

  Then she kissed Jared and Jenn. “Be careful, guys.”

  “We will.” Jared jumped in a puddle at the foot of the back steps. “Don’t worry, Aunt Cass.”

  “Yeah, Aunt Cass,” called a waving Jenn. “We’ll be okay.”

  Aunt Cass. She pushed the door shut, no small feat against the force of the determined wind. Somehow I’ve become Aunt Cass. She smiled. She liked the intimacy of the shortened name, the name Dan called her.

  “You have such a nice family,” Brenna said as she rinsed the knife she’d been slicing the apples with. “You care about each other so much.”

  Cass shrugged. “That’s what families do.”

  “That’s what families should do,” Brenna answered, her voice thick with emotion. A large tear rolled down her cheek.

  “Oh, sweetie.”

  Brenna sniffed and another tear appeared.

  Cass opened her arms, and Brenna fell into them. She clutched Cass with a startling strength, an unexpected neediness. Her slim shoulders shook.

  “Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Cass asked, keeping her voice soft and encouraging.

  Brenna drew a deep breath. In a voice that quavered she said, “I miss my mom.”

  “Of course you do. How long since you’ve seen her?”

  “Almost a year.”

  Cass rubbed Brenna’s back. “That’s a long time.”

  Brenna sniffed and nodded. She pulled back and looked at Cass with a terrible ferocity. “I love her.”

  “I know.” Cass smiled gently. “We all love our moms.” Even when they’re driving us nuts.

  Brenna’s red eyes filled with new tears. “You don’t understand.”

  “You’re right. So why don’t you explain.”

  Brenna looked uncertain, even scared.

  Cass reached out and stroked the girl’s hair. “Does it have something to do with the phone calls you’ve been making?”

  If anything, Brenna looked more upset. “You know?”

  “I know you’ve made calls from here several times, and Dan and I saw you make a call up on the boardwalk. I know you listen to something and then hang up in tears, but you don’t speak.”

  “My mom. I listen to my mom.”

  Cass took Brenna’s hand and led her to the love seat. “Why don’t you speak to her?”

  “I can’t. I’m afraid she’ll hang up on me, and I couldn’t bear it.” Agony etched Brenna’s lovely face as she huddled in the corner of the love seat.

  “Why would she do that?�
��

  “Because she hates me.”

  Cass blinked. “Your mother hates you?”

  Brenna nodded.

  “Do you know for a fact that she hates you, or do you just think this?”

  “I think it.” Brenna pulled a very used tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. Cass reached into her own pocket and pulled out a heavily wrinkled but clean tissue. She offered it to Brenna who took it gratefully.

  “Why would you think such a thing of your own mother?” Visions of all types of child abuse flitted through her mind.

  “It’s because of the terrible thing I did,” Brenna whispered, her eyes on her lap.

  Paradigm shift, Cass thought. “It’s not what your mother did but what you did?”

  Brenna hunched her shoulders. “I ran away from home.”

  Not good, but not the end of the world. “Lots of people have done that.” Cass rested her hand on Brenna’s knee.

  “But I never left a note. I never called.” Her voice caught and she had to swallow. “Not once all year.”

  Cass stared at Brenna’s bent head, a million questions leaping about her mind like a bunch of unruly kangaroos.

  Why had Brenna run?

  Why had she never told her mother she was all right?

  Did she run with Mike or meet him later?

  What of her father? Had she left because she feared him?

  How could the girl have put her mother through the agony of not knowing where she was? Surely she was old enough to know better. Unless there was danger from her mother or father?

  “Did they abuse you, Brenna? Did they hurt you in any way?” Cass was ready to call the police this very minute. “Is that why you ran?”

  “Oh, no.” Brenna looked appalled at the thought. “They’re very nice people. They’ve always loved me.”

  Cass blinked. “But you ran away without letting them know where you were or how you were doing for a whole year.”

  “We’d been apart all summer and missed each other desperately. We thought being together always would be so romantic.” Brenna’s voice shook.

  “We meaning you and Mike?”

  Brenna nodded, her eyes still on the floor.

  “So you knew him before you ran?”