by Terri DuLong
* * *
It wasn’t until I was driving home that I realized I hadn’t had a chance to tell her about my attempt to search for my father or about my dream.
Lotte did her usual happy dance when I walked in the door and I smiled. No matter what, she was always there for me.
“Did you miss me, sweetie? Come on, Mama will let you out in the yard.”
After she sniffed, squatted, and made sure the yard was safe, she followed me back into the kitchen. I saw that it was only three o’clock and decided to spend some time at the yarn shop.
Mavis Anne was arranging a new delivery of baby alpaca on a shelf and Chloe was waiting on a customer.
Mavis Anne turned around and smiled. “Have a seat, Petra. I’m almost finished and I’ll join you.”
I sat at the table and began finishing up another spa cloth.
“Very pretty,” she said, a few minutes later when she sat down. “Those will make nice gifts for the customers. Fay has also made quite a few. The French soap we’ll include with the facecloths arrived yesterday. So we’re going to get together here tomorrow afternoon to put everything together. Can you join us?”
“Definitely,” I said. “I’ll be here. Marta said she’ll be over tomorrow morning to finish up the pastries for Sunday.”
“Very good.” Mavis Anne smiled. “Everything is right on schedule.”
Both Chloe and Yarrow joined us a few minutes later.
“It’s Friday afternoon,” Mavis Anne said. “Why don’t you open a bottle of wine, Yarrow?”
We looked up as Louise walked in.
“Hey,” I said. “Feeling better? I haven’t seen you for a while.”
She sat down and nodded. “Oh, yes, thanks. Much better.” She reached into her knitting bag and removed a brightly colored scarf.
“That’s so pretty,” I said, leaning forward for a better look. “Is that pattern called mosaic knitting?”
“Yes, it is. It’s fun to work with.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you, Louise, if you would do a class on that pattern?” Mavis Anne asked.
“Oh, I’d love to. Sure. I could do just a basic mosaic brick pattern.”
“That’s great. We’ll put out a sign-up sheet and schedule it for after the holidays. I’ve had a fair number of customers ask about how it’s done.”
“Are we all set for the tea on Sunday?” Louise asked.
Mavis Anne nodded. “Yes, I think we are. We’re gathering here tomorrow around three to put together the gift items and finalize everything.”
“Wonderful. I’ll be here too,” Louise said before turning toward me. “So it’s going well for you at the shelter?”
“Yes. I really enjoy it there. Suzanne is very nice and it’s rewarding to work with the adoptive parents and animals.”
“It certainly is,” she said. “I’m glad you offered to volunteer. Extra hands are always welcome.”
“Oh,” Yarrow said, as she passed a glass of red wine to each of us. “Didn’t you take Lotte to Dr. Wellington yesterday? How did that go?”
I took a sip of wine and nodded. I wasn’t sure how much to tell them. “Yeah, I did. Lotte seemed to like him a lot.”
“What’s not to like?” Yarrow said, causing the others to laugh.
I nodded again. “Right. Well . . . the funniest thing is . . . remember that story I told all of you about what happened at Petco with the boy and his father?”
“Oh, I heard about that,” Louise said, making me realize that the yarn shop did more than just sell yarn. It was a source of news and gossip that traveled at a good speed.
“What’s that incident have to do with the vet?” Chloe asked.
“Well . . . it seems the man who berated me for not minding my own business is in fact . . . Dr. Wellington.”
“No,” Yarrow gasped.
“Are you sure?” Louise questioned.
“Very sure,” I said. “Yeah, it was a bit awkward when he walked into the exam room and we recognized each other.”
“Oh, my goodness,” Mavis Anne said, as she stopped knitting. “But did he apologize?”
I shook my head. “No. He did not.” I decided it best to avoid the subject of the flowers.
“Wow,” Yarrow said. “That’s quite a coincidence.”
“You could call it that,” I mumbled.
“Oh.” Yarrow drew out the word before taking a sip of wine and then nodded. “That’s right. I’d heard that his wife had died and he had a young son. So that was his son who wanted the dogs?”
“Yup. And I interfered by telling him to ask his mother.”
“I’m surprised that Dr. Wellington would react in such a negative manner,” Chloe said. “But of course we’ve only seen him under professional circumstances.”
“Does anybody know what happened to his wife? Is he from this area originally?”
Louise shook her head. “No, he’s not. He’s only been here about two years. From what I heard, his wife was killed in a car accident in upstate New York, which was where they lived. Apparently, his brother and family live in the Jacksonville area, and Dr. Wellington relocated here with his son to open his practice.”
“Well, it still doesn’t excuse his rudeness,” Mavis Anne said. “My goodness, Petra was only trying to be nice to the boy.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I was.” I thought of Jonah, and realized I probably wouldn’t be seeing him again, and that caused me to feel a sadness I wasn’t familiar with.
I went back to Koi House, had supper, cleaned up, and then settled down with my knitting. Lotte was curled up beside me on the sofa. Knitting had a way of soothing the soul, and I hoped it would soothe mine after the week I had had.
A little while later my cell phone rang, and I heard a male voice say, “Ah, yes, hi. This is Ben. Ben Wellington. Dr. Wellington. Is this Petra?”
I detected anxiety in his tone and said, “Yes. Yes, it is.”
“Listen . . . I think we got off on the wrong foot. You know . . . at Petco last week. And then I’m afraid I made matters worse at my office. About the flowers.”
I had no idea where this was going. “Okay,” was all I said.
“I’m afraid the flowers were Jonah’s idea, and he took it upon himself to fix things. I think we both owe you an apology.”
“Okay,” I said again. “Thank you.”
“Right.” There was a pause before he said, “So we were wondering if you’d like to come to dinner. You know . . . so we could make it up to you.”
He’d taken me completely by surprise. I found myself stupidly asking, “At your house?”
I heard a chuckle come across the line before he said, “Yeah. Maybe next Wednesday evening. If you’re free. I don’t even know if you have a husband, but he’s certainly invited too.”
“Oh. No. I don’t have a husband.”
“Okay. Well, Jonah and I would like you to come. Nothing special. I was just going to grill hot dogs and hamburgers, if that’s okay with you.”
“Sure. That’s fine. What time, and can I bring anything?”
“Six would be good. I have a request from Jonah . . . ah . . . if you could bring your dog; he’d really enjoy that and would like to see her again.”
Lotte was invited too? “Sure,” I said again. “Yes, that sounds good. We’d both like to come. I just need your address.”
I reached for a pen and paper and jotted down what he told me.
“Okay. Thank you,” I told him. “We’ll see you next Wednesday at six.”
I disconnected the call and shook my head. I certainly had not expected that to happen. A dinner invitation to apologize? I couldn’t help but wonder how much of it had been due to Jonah. Maybe Ben had gotten my phone number from the business card I had given to his son.
Rhonda March 1969
Peter and I continued dating, but it was a few weeks before he again brought up the subject of my visiting his home.
We had been to the movies to see Hello, Dolly! wit
h Barbra Streisand and Walter Matthau. Both of us loved the movie and had been discussing how great it was. Peter pulled into our spot overlooking the ocean.
“Want to sit on the beach for a while?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said.
We sat on the blanket with his arm around my shoulders, staring at the sky and the ocean. Spring had arrived and the evenings were getting warmer. I recalled the recent letter from my mother telling me they had received a spring snowstorm dumping fourteen inches. All the more reason I loved Florida.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Peter said.
I smiled. “I was just remembering my mother’s letter. They got fourteen inches of snow at home last week.”
He nodded. “That does make Florida extra nice, doesn’t it? Have you made any plans yet? Will you stay down here or return back home?”
“I’ve been able to save quite a bit of money in the eight weeks I’ve been here. So I’m going to start inquiring about a secretarial program, and if I get accepted, then I’m definitely staying here.”
“Good,” he said and pulled me closer.
I felt his fingers on the sides of my face as he kissed me. This time I was the one who ended the kiss and exhaled. I knew each time I was with him what we shared became more passionate, and for the first time in my life I understood the meaning of the word desire.
Peter also let out a deep breath and ran his hand through my hair.
“I’ve never met anyone like you, Rhonda. You’re different.”
“In what way?” I questioned. I wasn’t sure if this was good or bad.
“You’re interested in just having a good time. I don’t think it matters to you exactly what we do. You seem to enjoy everything.”
He was right and I nodded. “I do,” I told him. I wasn’t sure I should admit it but I went on to say, “I just enjoy being with you.”
“I can tell,” he said and kissed the top of my head, squeezing me tighter. “Have you dated many fellows?”
I realized I had not. “Just a few. In high school. Nothing serious.” I paused for a second before asking, “How about you?”
He laughed and gave my hand a squeeze. “Well, I do have seven years on you. So yes, I dated quite a few different girls throughout college. I guess that’s how I’m so certain that you’re different. There’s no drama with you. You’re a pleasure to be with.” He paused for a second before saying, “Easy. You’re easy to be with.”
He turned to place his lips on mine, and this time I felt not only my own desire, but his as well. He guided me down on the blanket as he repositioned himself so his body was stretched out on top of me.
I felt his hand slip under my blouse and caress my breast. A groan filled the night air and I wasn’t sure if it was mine or his.
“Oh, God,” I heard him say, his voice husky. He sat up and shook his head. “We have to stop. Or . . . I might not be able to.”
I nodded and rearranged my blouse. What I felt with Peter Maxwell wasn’t anything like what I’d ever felt before. This wasn’t high school petting. This was serious adult foreplay. This was how two people in love felt. And while the unknown frightened me, I also knew that had Peter not stopped, I would not have pulled away.
He stood up and reached for my hand. “Let’s head back,” he said.
A few minutes later he pulled into the hotel parking lot. We had remained silent on the drive back from the beach.
He leaned over and brushed his lips on mine. “I love being with you, Rhonda. Can I see you again tomorrow night?”
I smiled and nodded. For a brief second on the beach, when he suggested we leave, I was afraid maybe he didn’t want to see me again.
“Yes,” I said. “Yes. I’d like that.”
“Good. You have the breakfast and lunch shifts tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll pick you up at six. I’d like you to come to my house for dinner.”
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said, turning to get out of the car.
But Peter reached for me and kissed me again. He buried his face in my neck and sighed. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”
Because I had no idea how to respond, I opened the door and walked slowly back to the cabin.
I smelled it as soon as I got to the porch. Cynthia had recently begun smoking marijuana, courtesy of Earle. I had quickly come to see that he was a really nice guy, but he was also a hippie at heart. His hair had grown in the time since we’d arrived, and he was now wearing it a bit longer than was conventional. On duty at the hotel he secured it at the nape of his neck in a ponytail but off duty, his waves were chin length. He wore tie-dyed T-shirts with bell-bottom jeans and sandals. He also enjoyed playing his guitar and singing, and Cynthia had been joining him at local clubs in the evening, where he sometimes joined the band playing popular Creedence Clearwater Revival music. The group had a top song that played constantly on the radio. “Fortunate Son” was music with a message—against the war, against politics, and against the establishment of our day.
“Hey,” she said, lifting her joint in the air. “Want a hit?”
“No, thanks,” I told her as I walked inside to grab a can of Tab. It wasn’t that I was a prude about smoking pot. I just had no desire to achieve a high with hand-rolled leaves. I took a gulp of the overly sweet soft drink and joined Cynthia back on the porch.
“So what’s going on?” I asked her. We had had opposite shifts at the hotel for the past few days, and I hadn’t seen much of her.
“Well . . . let’s see.” She took another drag off the joint. “I’m sleeping with Earle now.”
I shifted in my seat. “Okay.”
She laughed. “He’s hot. Different from the other guys I’ve been with. But we’re being careful. I sure don’t want a kid right now. So Earle is using rubbers but I’m trying to get the pill. It’s pretty difficult for unmarried girls, though.”
I nodded. Although things were changing for women, we still had a long way to go.
“And . . .” she said. “Do you know yet what you’ll be doing in May when the season ends here?”
I shrugged. “I’m still not sure. I need to see if I’ll have enough money saved by then for secretarial school. Why?”
“Well . . . Earle is talking about heading out to California.”
This was a surprise and the first I was hearing about it. “Really? California? Why way out there?”
“Earle’s plan has always been to do this, I guess. Hook up with a band and play the clubs in San Francisco. In the music business, it’s the place to be.”
I knew about the Summer of Love two years before and had heard about the crowds of teenagers flocking to the Haight-Ashbury district, claiming they had turned their backs on society, protesting the Vietnam War and believing in free love. But the scene had fallen apart by the end of the summer and had become a haven for dropouts.
“So it’s still a popular place to be?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yup, it is. And have you heard about the Woodstock Music and Art Fair that’s being held in New York in August?”
I shook my head.
“Well, Earle would like for us to go there, and maybe from there, we can hook up with some people to get to San Francisco.”
All of a sudden Cynthia’s life seemed to be going in a completely different direction from mine. I wasn’t at all sure where I was headed with Peter, but I was grateful that maybe we would be taking the first step the next evening when I visited his home.
Chapter 11
A little after three the Sunday before Christmas, Koi House was filled with happy, chattering women. The Christmas tea was proving to be a huge success with a good turnout.
I headed to the kitchen to refill a pitcher of sweet tea and saw Mavis Anne arranging more cookies on a platter.
“Everyone seems to be having a good time,” she said.
“I think they are. And the house looks so festive.”
In addition to the tree, we
had placed red and green candles on the tables along with other Christmas decorations.
By the time the party ended a few hours later, everyone was in the Christmas mood. Yarrow had even played Christmas carols on the upright piano and we had a sing-along.
“That was fun,” she said, as we all begin to pitch in for the cleanup.
“It was,” I agreed.
Mavis Anne was wrapping some leftover pastries. “Oh, Petra, I wanted to talk to you about Christmas day. We were thinking maybe all of us could spend it together here at Koi House. David and Clive have offered to cook a turkey and ham. The rest of us can make side dishes and I’m sure Marta will do the desserts for us. Do you have any plans for Christmas?”
I shook my head. “No. None at all.” I really hadn’t given it much thought. “But I think that’s a great idea.”
“Oh, good. We’ll have a buffet and I think it’ll be nice to spend the day together. Now, I was thinking, rather than do a gift exchange, maybe we could donate money to the animal shelter.”
“I love that idea,” Louise said as she filled the dishwasher with plates.
“I do too. Yes, let’s do that. Who will be coming?”
“Well,” Mavis Anne said. “Yarrow, David, Clive, and me. Chloe? Can you and Henry make it?”
Chloe looked up from washing wineglasses in the sink. “Yes. Absolutely. We have no other plans. That’ll be fun.”
“We leave the next day for our ski trip,” Isabelle said. “So it would be nice to celebrate Christmas here. Count Chadwick, Haley, and me in.”
“And I’ll definitely be here,” Iris agreed.
“Louise?” Mavis Anne questioned. “Can you make it?”
“Yes. My nephew is going to his wife’s family for Christmas. They did invite me, but I’d much rather spend it here with all of you.”
“Then it’s settled,” Mavis Anne said. “Let’s see . . .” She counted on her fingers. “That will be twelve of us. Perfect.”
After the cleanup was completed, I opened a bottle of wine, poured each one a glass, and we took it outside to the patio.
“What a gorgeous evening,” Iris said. “It’s hard to believe that Christmas is a week from today. I’m really enjoying this mild weather in December.”
