House on the Forgotten Coast

by Ruth Coe Chambers

  “It was a terrible thing. Nobody in Apalachicola suspected he was a fugitive, especially not Mr. Lovett’s daughter. Word was she was kind of sweet on Seth. That was the young man’s name, Seth. Mr. Lovett nipped that in the bud though. Talent or no, he wasn’t good enough for Mr. Lovett’s daughter, and she was forbidden to see him anymore.”

  The kitchen door slammed and Elise looked up to see Lawrence glaring at his mother, green eyes blazing.

  She felt a ringing in her head, heard voices and worried she might faint.

  Mr. Lovett, I don’t know how to tell you this. I should have recognized him sooner, but then with the rumors I did remember. It’s more than rumor, Mr. Lovett. The man who built your beautiful house is guilty of murder. I was there. The young woman was a distant relative. For God’s sake, protect your daughter.

  “It’s okay, Lawrence,” his mother said, “this isn’t gossip. It’s ancient history. Elise lives here now. She might as well know what the rest of us have heard about for years. It’s part of the very air we breathe. Come sit with us, son.” She pulled a chair out from the table, but he turned and went out the door.

  She sighed. “Like I said, dear, he don’t mean to be rude. But as far as I know all the stories about the house being haunted are just that. Stories. I’ve never been inside the place, but there’s been plenty of talk over the years, and you know how people will add a little bit here and a little bit there to make a story more interesting.”

  “It’s so terribly sad, Mrs. Myers, that young girl to be so much in love and then to die that way. I even dream about it sometimes.” It wasn’t until she said it that Elise realized that more and more frequently her dreams became nightmares about the young bride. A chill passed over her and the pan of beans nearly slipped from her lap.

  “You okay, honey?”

  “Yes, ma’am. The pan slipped.”

  “It was a sad business. I grant you, it was enough to haunt a house all right.”

  Elise rinsed the beans and put them on the stove. “I think I’ll walk around outside a bit, unless you need me to do something.”

  “Heavens no, child. You go ahead. You’re company. If I need something, I’ll call Lawrence.”

  Elise walked to the shade of the grape arbor and sat in an old chair where she’d watched Mrs. Myers rest and doze. She was so accustomed to talking to Lawrence when she couldn’t see him that she spoke aloud as she sat alone under the arbor. “I’ve never known such peace. I could grow old here.”

  “You won’t get the opportunity.”

  “Lawrence, you startled me!” Elise stared straight ahead, not turning to look back at him. “I didn’t realize you followed me.”

  “Yes, I followed you.” I could follow you to the end of time. “As often as you try to force me to speak, I try to convince you that you don’t understand what you’re getting into, and God help me, I can’t bring myself to try explaining it to you. I don’t want to hurt you the way you’re hurting me.”

  “Hurting you? I would never do that.”

  “Oh, but you do. You’ll hurt us all in the end. My mother and I have a measure of peace here, but you will be the instrument of our destruction. I wish I could make you understand, but I don’t know how.”

  “I told you. I can’t seem to help myself. And you have no right to deny me.”

  “Oh, but I do. I have every right, more than you’d ever imagine.”

  “Don’t you think your mother has rights too? She likes my company.”

  “My mother is a fool.”

  “Lawrence! How can you say that?”

  “Because she is. She has no right to encourage you. She’s selfish, the way you are. Thinking of her own enjoyment.”

  “I won’t make trouble for you, and your mother never hurts me the way you do.”

  “Hurt you?” He let out a painful cry. “Don’t you know it isn’t in me to hurt you?”

  “You’ve hurt me in ways you can’t begin to imagine.” Elise stood up and turned to face him.

  Lawrence stared at her a moment, not angry, just puzzled or maybe pained, then he turned his back to her. “Where did you come from? Really.”

  “I told you. Atlanta.”

  “No, you’ve come farther than that.”

  She walked closer to him and then turned away. They stood back-to-back, inches apart, until Mrs. Myers called. “Lawrence, will you bring some tomatoes for our salad? Please?”

  “The woman you call a fool is preparing your lunch.”

  “Yes, even fools can cook.”

  Elise sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She let out a deep breath, something caught between a sigh and a sob.

  “Don’t cry! I won’t have your tears on my grave!”

  “Lawrence, what a horrible thing to say. How can you be so cruel?” She could hear his labored breathing, but neither of them turned around. She spoke through clenched teeth. “Get the tomatoes for your mother. I don’t know how I can bear to love you.” She drew in a sharp breath with the realization of what she’d said and started walking from him toward the house. When she reached the kitchen door, he hadn’t moved and stood where she’d left him.

  ELISE WAS MISERABLE FOR HAVING told Lawrence she loved him. How could I have been so stupid! She paced the floor of her room, wringing her hands. How can I go back there and face him? And the troubling dreams did nothing to ease her discomfort. In her dreams she no longer looked like herself but was a young girl with long dark hair. Only the emotions, the uncertainty, the terror were her own. Someone stood at the end of a lonely road, a figure in white who frightened her. Once she woke in the middle of the night breathing hard as though she’d run a long way. And she wasn’t in her bed. She was in the hall outside her parents’ room, and in the dim shadows her feet looked gray with dust. She stayed awake the rest of the night, and when the sun came up she ached with longing to see Lawrence. She couldn’t bring herself to face him, though. Not yet. Still, later that morning, just for the comfort it brought her, she walked toward the Myers’ for a bit before turning back toward town.

  She was deep in thought about Lawrence when she realized she was at Miss Nadine’s. She started up the steps before she saw her in the rocker, sound asleep. Elise turned to go, but Nadine called, “Don’t you go leaving without speaking to me.”

  “I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “I wasn’t asleep. Besides, I can sleep any time. Come on and have a seat. Tell me what’s going on in your life.”

  Elise sank into the rocker with a heavy sigh. “I’m still exploring, Miss Nadine, meeting new people, and dogs.”

  “Dogs?”

  “I don’t know what made me think of those dogs. I met a guy recently, and he goes everywhere with these two hounds in the back of his truck. I always expect them to jump out, but they don’t.”

  “There used to be a man here had a dog that rode on the hood of his car.”

  Elise laughed. “On the hood of his car?”

  “Yes, ma’am, took that dog all over the place, and I don’t know that he ever fell off. Don’t know who was the bigger fool, the man or the dog.”

  “Nobody can say that people here are boring. They’re so interesting, so real and honest.”

  “We’re that all right. Real honest and real mean.”

  “Why, Miss Nadine! I haven’t met anyone who’s mean.” How about Lawrence Myers? Don’t you think he’s mean?

  “Then you never met my daddy.”

  “No, ma’am, I haven’t.”

  “He’s dead. Long dead. Seems like though I can remember those times better than I can what happened yesterday. People say you shouldn’t talk bad about the dead, but I always say, why not? Being dead doesn’t change what you were when you were living. If I didn’t respect somebody when they were alive, why in hell should I respect them when they’re dead? ‘Scuse my French. My daddy always brought out the worst in me.”

  “Maybe that’s just fathers and daughters. I don’t get along that w
ell with my dad either, but then he’s not my real father. He . . .”

  As though Elise hadn’t spoken, Nadine cut through her words and continued with her story. “He was better to me than he was to my mother, though. I wondered why she didn’t leave him. But where would she have gone? Her daddy left her the grand sum of one dollar when he died. The rest went to her brother and sister. My grandfather was a good man, but his word was law. When he forbade her to marry my daddy, he meant it. Daddy thought he’d get over it, never dreamed he wouldn’t inherit big money some day. Stuck in his craw that she came from more than he did. His whole goal in life was to be somebody. He was somebody all right. Somebody tight with his money, somebody who didn’t hesitate to leave bruises on my mother’s body.

  “She taught school and had to have clothes, but he begrudged every stitch she ever bought. She hadn’t been brought up to do for herself. Her family had a woman come to the house to do their sewing, and my mother wasn’t good with a needle. She tried but ended up buying most of her clothes. If he thought she paid too much for something, he’d march her right down to the store and make her return it. Oh, the shame of it, and her a schoolteacher.”

  “You followed in her footsteps then?”

  “How’s that?”

  “Becoming a teacher, just like your mother.”

  “I sure didn’t want to be like him. He tried to buy me, always giving me things. He never figured out I’d have rather he do things for my mother. Doesn’t seem fair we pass this way only once and then to have somebody’s life be a pure living hell that one time through.” She shook her head from side to side.

  “I know somebody like that. Miss Nadine, do you think it’s possible to love someone with every ounce of your being and that person will never love you back?”

  “I guess. I’m not sure my daddy ever loved my mother. I think he loved the idea of her inheriting money some day. I was luckier than my mother. When I loved, he loved me back. I never doubted that for one minute.

  “He was such a beautiful young man. Those Greek men are like gods. The sun turns their bodies to pure gold. Course, it’ll turn on you, the sun will, and next thing you know those Greek gods are made of leather. Not Nick though. He was always my golden boy.”

  “If only I could be that lucky.”

  “Luck has nothing to do with it. If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be. There’s nothing more to it.”

  “But what happened? Where’s he now?”

  “Why, he’s here, of course.”

  “Here? You mean in Apalach?”

  Her voice grew deep and quiet. “He’s with me.”

  “He lives with you?”

  Nadine grew flustered and her eyes looked wild. She thumped her chest with a trembling fist. “He’s here in my heart where he belongs, where he’s always been.”

  12

  Another week passed and Elise still hadn’t heard from Dallas. Elise quizzed her mother to see if she’d been to the shop. “Of course I’ve seen her, but I’m not going to be bothering her about taking you to some old house. I’ve found Dallas to be a woman of her word, but time moves by a different clock in a fishing village. And by the way, we’re having an open house at the shop on Tuesday.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes, we are, Elise. Surely you expect me to open for business. I’d planned something more elaborate, but I don’t want to seem pushy, too Atlanta. I’ve learned that I have to pace myself if I want to be accepted here, so we’ll just keep things simple. I’ll float helium balloons out front and have light refreshments. I would appreciate it if you’d be on hand to greet people and serve punch. We’ll open at ten that morning. I have an announcement coming out in the paper. I’ve ordered soap samples with the name of the shop on the wrapper.”

  And it’d never occur to you to tell me this important news.

  “Is it a secret or can you tell me?”

  “Tell you what?”

  “The name of your shop.”

  “Didn’t I tell you? A Touch of Class.”

  Ouch! “Your idea or Dad’s?”

  “Mine, of course. Remember, this is my baby.”

  “I’ll be glad to help if you need me.”

  Margaret looked at Elise critically. “I believe I just told you I would.”

  “Then I’ll be there.”

  “And don’t wear shorts.”

  Elise’s face burned, and the hurt stung like tears. You know I wouldn’t. Why do you have to be so mean? Mrs. Myers would never be so unkind. What about shoes, should I wear shoes too? Aloud she said, “I won’t embarrass you.”

  By the time Tuesday came, Elise’s fingers felt numb from tying ribbons on the tiny soap samples. She couldn’t help but admire what her mother had done with the shop, though. The antique cash register gleamed, and a crystal bowl filled with punch rested on a bed of ivy and yellow hibiscus blossoms. Elise wondered if Peyton would show up and was surprised to see him come in with Dallas.

  “Margaret, Elise, you know my friend Peyton Roberts. You’re neighbors now!” Margaret gave a pained smile and nodded.

  “I’m not adding shoes to the inventory, Mr. Roberts, so I won’t be competition.”

  “I guess I can sleep better at night now,” Peyton said a bit curtly. Dallas punched his arm. “Be good now. This is a party.” Elise raised her eyebrows, and he smiled at her.

  Edwin walked toward them and Dallas extended her hand to him, “And, Mr. Foster, so nice to see you again too.”

  Come on, Dad. Tell her to call you Edwin. No? It’s your loss.

  Dallas turned and touched Peyton’s elbow.

  “My friend Peyton Roberts.” The men shook hands, but neither spoke. Dallas looked from one to the other and said, “I’m bringing all my friends, Margaret, to see what you’ve done with a dusty old hardware store.”

  When Peyton wandered over to a display of stationery, Margaret said, “If you don’t see anything you like, let me know, and I’ll include something for you in my next order.”

  “How bout some blue lined tablet paper?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You know, a tablet. A plain old tablet. But never mind. I can find that at the drugstore.”

  “You can probably find soap too! Oh, forgive me. I don’t mean to be rude. I’m sure I can find something to please you, Mr. Roberts.”

  “I doubt it, Mrs. Foster, but we’ll see.”

  Dallas called to Margaret and she turned to greet Dallas’s friends. “My bridge pals and oldest friends, Margaret. Frances May, and you’ll remember Sue Carter, and Louise Stone, your neighbor.” Margaret greeted each of them and guided them toward Elise for punch. When she turned toward the window, Margaret saw Peyton wave from the sidewalk. “I suppose he’s returning to his store,” she remarked.

  “Why, Mother, you sound disappointed he left so soon.”

  “No, Elise, I’m not disappointed at all,” she snapped.

  Before she left, Dallas reached behind the counter and brought out a bottle of expensive champagne. “My compliments, Margaret. The Fosters can celebrate tonight! Peyton wanted me to tell you it was from him! Isn’t that just like him!”

  “You mean taking credit for someone else’s generosity?”

  “Now, Margaret. He was joking. You just don’t know him yet.”

  “No, I guess not, but I know you, and that’s enough. We’ll toast you tonight. You can count on that.”

  Elise stopped with the punch ladle poised above a cup when she realized she was enjoying herself. She really was enjoying herself ! She noticed that nearly all the area merchants came in and looked around. A lot of the local people came and even some of the people from the island. It was St. George Island, but to the locals, it’d always be “the island.”

  Elise’s heart sank when Dallas left and made no mention of the haunted house, but a few moments later she came back and stuck her head in the door. “Elise, I haven’t forgotten. One day soon. I promise.”

  Later, when they were cle
aning up, Elise said, “Mrs. Anderson is the nicest lady.”

  “She surely is,” Margaret said. “I wish we could be friends.”

  “Why can’t you?” Edwin asked.

  Margaret paused and said a bit sadly, “I don’t know.”

  WHEN ELISE HAD ALL BUT given up hope that Dallas would remember, there came the early morning blaring of a car horn. She looked out her bedroom window, and Dallas called from her car, “Do an old lady a favor, Elise, and don’t make me come inside. Let’s go visit that haunted house before the sun gets any higher. Hey, Margaret,” she called, when Margaret waved from the front door. “I’ll take good care of her. See you at the shop later, you hear?”

  Elise hurried downstairs and ran to the car. Dallas waved to Margaret and made a U-turn in the middle of the road. She looked over at Elise. “Nobody’s going to say anything,” she said. “I know every man on the police force. Most of them aren’t dry behind the ears. There was a time years ago when the chief was sweet on me. Don’t look so shocked, honey. I was desirable.”

  Elise laughed. “I’m sure you were, Mrs. Anderson, uh, Dallas. You’re very pretty.”

  “A woman never minds a compliment, honey, but I wasn’t fishing for that, really I wasn’t. But I know I look like my mother, and anybody will tell you she was a fine-looking woman. Lady. I’m a woman. My mother was a lady. Even after I gave up cigarettes, I never deluded myself into thinking I was a lady.” She made a sharp left turn. “Peyton Roberts tells me you’ve been in his store from time to time. He seems awfully fond of you.”

  Elise blushed. “He’s nice to me. He and my mother don’t get on much, but there’s something about him I like.”

  “There’s plenty to like, Elise. He was one of the smartest students to ever graduate from our high school and probably has more education than anybody in Apalach, other than a few M.D.’s. I’d put his brains up against anybody’s. Peyton’s no slouch, but he could win an Academy Award for acting the part.”

  Elise laughed and wished there were some way she could approach Dallas about the story of the riverboat house, but she hesitated. One house at a time.