House on the Forgotten Coast

by Ruth Coe Chambers

  “Way out there?”

  “That’s what she said. I’ve gotten her to open up to me a little. Turns out she’s never dated much. Never had a real boyfriend. She puts herself down a lot.”

  “I’m glad she has you to talk to, Peyton. I don’t think she and her mother have a very close relationship. Margaret’s certainly a handsome woman but no one I’d call warm.”

  At the mention of Margaret, Peyton’s face reddened.

  Dallas noticed and said, “Oh, I know you don’t like her. Elise told me you two didn’t hit it off.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. But I like Elise. I like her a lot, and I don’t want her to get hurt.”

  “I don’t know what we can do to protect her. I, for one, won’t be taking her back to the Lovetts’. Keep letting her confide in you, Peyton. Let’s pray this blows over. At any rate, I feel better for talking to you. I tell you, it was eerie. I’ve lived a long time and never experienced anything like it.”

  “Let’s hope you don’t again. You want to give me a ride back to the store, or do I have to walk?”

  “I’m sorry, darlin’. I’ll drive you back.”

  When he was getting out of the car, Peyton said, “Why don’t we take in a movie sometime?”

  Dallas smiled and waved, and he didn’t know if she heard him or not.

  13

  Elise couldn’t quit thinking about her experience in the ballroom and pretended to have a stomach upset, not leaving the house for days. Lawrence must think he’s rid of me for good. Well, he’s in for a surprise. But she had fitful, uneasy dreams that made her even more reluctant to go to the Myers’.

  Feeling trapped inside the house and unable to shake the feeling of Annelise’s presence, she became obsessed with finding the long-lost painting. Like those before her, she began in the attic and spent the greater part of an afternoon there while Edwin was away on business. Hot beyond words, it was creepy and dimly lit, but she took a flashlight and wore rubber gloves. She inched her way around the perimeter of the house, pushing at beams, running her gloved hands down the rough sides, but there were no hidden walls or secret doors. All she got for her effort was a bump on the head and a splinter that pierced her glove. Still, she wasn’t deterred.

  She could hardly wait for Margaret to leave the house the next morning. She had only one more day before Edwin returned from Atlanta. She checked every inch of the parlor. Nothing. She spent hours in Edwin’s study, moved all the books from the bookcases, and lifted the carpet in as many places as she could. Next she tackled the kitchen. If she didn’t finish before Edwin returned, she wanted rooms that had fewer places of concealment. She knocked on walls and ran her hands along smooth surfaces searching for something, anything that would move.

  She’d completed her search of the downstairs rooms and was on her way to the shower when she stopped midway up the stairs. She turned and went back down and, kneeling on the floor, began knocking on the panels at the back of the staircase. She thought she detected a hollow sound, but she’d knocked on so many walls she doubted her hearing. Still, she was sure there was something . . . She pressed the panels, pushed with the heels of her hands and began trying to shove them from side to side. One seemed to give a little. She wrapped a towel around a hammer and finally it moved, revealing an empty space under the stairs. She aimed the beam of the flashlight from floor to ceiling, but it was empty. She walked around bent over, pushing, knocking, running her palm over every inch of space. It was such an ideal hiding place, but she was convinced nothing was there.

  Much as she wanted to keep searching for the painting, Elise thought she’d die if she didn’t see Lawrence. Just thinking of him made it difficult to draw a deep breath. Before Edwin arrived home the next day, she left the house and started walking to the Myers’. When she reached the highway, she heard music. Ty Roberts pulled his truck over to the curb and turned the music down.

  “I’ve about worn the rubber off these tires hoping I’d run into you. I thought maybe you’d moved back to Atlanta.”

  “No, I’ve been home.”

  “I didn’t think you could do without all that exercise.”

  “I had a virus,” she lied.

  “On your way to the fruit stand, I guess.”

  “As a matter of fact, I am.”

  “Get in. I’ll take you there.”

  “But you’re going in the opposite direction.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I like your company.”

  As he came around to open her door, Elise noticed that even in black boots he bounced along like he had springs in his feet. He smiled broadly as though he knew he had beautiful teeth and an infectious smile. So full of himself. Where did I hear that? So full of himself.

  “No dogs?”

  “Too hot. I left them home today, not that they didn’t want to come with me. You have a dog?”

  “Me? No. I’ve never had a pet.”

  “Not even a goldfish?”

  “Not even a goldfish. You can’t believe how fussy my mother is about the house. She used to be an interior decorator, and we’re like mannequins in a showroom.”

  “You don’t look like a mannequin to me.”

  “I sure feel like one at times.”

  Ty reached over and ran his hand lightly down her arm. “No, you’re a real, live girl.”

  Elise shrugged. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  Ty laughed and when they got to the fruit stand, he raced around to her side of the truck and stood with his face in her window. “I’ll wait for you. You’ve been sick so I’ll give you a ride back.”

  “Oh, no, please don’t wait. I’d feel rushed, and I need the exercise, I really do.” She tried to open the door, but he held it shut.

  “Come on. Let me take you home.”

  “No! I don’t want you to wait for me.”

  “Okay, I’ll leave on one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “How ‘bout going to a movie with me Saturday night?”

  “A movie?”

  “You must have noticed there isn’t much else to do around here.”

  “It isn’t that. It’s just . . .”

  “Oh, come on. It won’t kill you to spend an evening with me. I’m not leaving ‘til you say yes.”

  “You don’t take no for an answer, do you?”

  “Nope. I don’t usually have to twist a girl’s arm to get her to go out with me either.”

  “I bet you don’t.”

  “Saturday night then. Seven o’clock?”

  “Fine. Do you want to know where I live, or should I just walk out to the highway and wait for you?”

  “It’d be kind of cute for you to do that. We usually meet at about the same place, but I know where you live. Seven o’clock then.” He gave a little salute and said, “Later.”

  She bought some fruit for Mrs. Myers before starting up the road. She thought she heard Ty’s truck, but when she looked back, the road was clear. He’s becoming a real nuisance. I’ll go to a movie and that’s it.

  When she reached the Myers’, she hesitated a moment before she opened the gate. The road continued to climb for maybe a quarter of a mile, and then there was an expanse of weeds and woods. Could there be tombstones among the weeds? Maybe Lawrence would help her explore.

  She turned back to the gate and felt chilled by the stillness. Everything was quiet, too quiet. She felt a moment of panic and called, “Lawrence?” She heard footsteps running down the stairs inside the house, and for a fleeting moment she thought of Annelise. At the screen door, the footsteps stopped abruptly. Lawrence stood there, a shadow behind the screen.

  She was so happy to see him, she was unable to speak. She didn’t care how angry he was at her for coming. Just to see him . . .

  “It’s you.”

  “I suppose you thought you were rid of me.”

  “Maybe.”

  Mrs. Myers came around the corner of the house then. “Why law, child, where’ve you been?
I’ve missed you something terrible.”

  “I’ve missed you too, but I had some things to do at home and couldn’t get away.”

  Lawrence pushed the screen door open and stared at her. Something had changed between them. She knew it. The dark recesses of her body tingled and grew moist. Without taking her eyes off his face, her arms grew weak and she let go of the bag of fruit. She watched numbly as rosy fuzzed peaches and clusters of marbled grapes fell at her feet. She stood motionless as Lawrence walked toward her and knelt to pick up the spilled fruit. Had she been able to move, she could have put her hand on top of his head. He was so close, the nearness, the very scent of him was intoxicating. Then he seemed to swirl with the fruit, moving in a circle round and round her feet. She could hear Mrs. Myers crying, “Catch her, Lawrence, she’s going to faint.” When Elise opened her eyes she was lying on a bed. She knew it was his when she saw all the books lining the walls. Mrs. Myers was patting her hand.

  “Oh, I’m so embarrassed.”

  “You fainted, honey, nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  “I forgot to eat,” she replied weakly.

  Elise looked toward the window where the cat sat on the ledge and saw Lawrence leaning against a bookcase watching her, knowing it wasn’t hunger that made her faint.

  “I’m a strong believer in hot tea, even on a day like this. Lawrence, keep an eye on her, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “I’ve missed you,” she whispered. “I think you missed me.”

  He walked to the foot of the bed and looked down at her.

  “It doesn’t matter if I miss you. I have feelings the same as you do, but it makes no difference. It can’t, and you’re just stirring things up that you don’t understand.”

  “Is there someone else?”

  “Someone else?”

  “Another girl in your life.”

  He gave a harsh laugh. “You might say so but not in the way you mean.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I know you don’t, and I can’t explain it to you. I’ve tried to convince you not to come here any more. What you want from me isn’t possible.”

  “Oh, but I love you so. It has to be possible.”

  “Don’t say that!”

  “But it’s true.” She tried to stand, but her knees buckled. He grabbed her before she fell and for the briefest moment held her body tight against his. She thought he might have pressed his lips to her hair, but she couldn’t be sure because in nearly the same instant, he pushed her roughly to the bed.

  “You do care. You do,” she whispered.

  “I can’t. Don’t you understand? A million times over, I can’t.”

  “I’ll never believe that.”

  “Believe it.”

  Mrs. Myers returned with the tea and a thick slice of buttered bread. “This will make you feel better. Here you bring me fruit and you not eating anything yourself. I’ve never met your mother, but she has to be a fine person to raise such a sweet girl. You just rest now. You’ve got a long trip home yet today, and I don’t want you fainting on the way.”

  Lawrence walked to the window and sat beside the cat, never taking his eyes off Elise.

  “I’ll leave you two now. Call, honey, if you need anything. That tea’ll do wonders. Just you wait and see.”

  When his mother left the room, Lawrence turned and stared out the window, as though he could no longer look at her. Accustomed now to addressing his back, Elise said, “Lawrence, a terrible thing happened to me the other day. Mrs. Anderson took me to the Lovett house, the one they say is haunted. When they showed me the ballroom . . .”

  He turned and looked at her then and something like panic in his eyes made her stop talking.

  “You went to the ballroom!”

  “Yes, I couldn’t help myself. And I heard music. It was like someone took over my body. I danced in front of strangers, Lawrence, in their house! And the worst part? I was the only one who heard the music. I keep thinking that’s how it must be for you, how it’s so difficult for you to talk, as though someone else controls your body. Someone controlled my body. I know it.”

  He walked to the bed and looked down at her with such a pained expression, she said, “Oh, Lawrence, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought you’d understand.”

  “I do understand. I wish I didn’t.” He closed his eyes briefly and without another word left the room and went downstairs. Only the orange tabby remained on the windowsill watching her.

  When she felt stronger she took the cup and saucer to the kitchen, but Mrs. Myers was nowhere around. She walked to the porch and found Lawrence in the swing. She drew a deep breath and sat beside him.

  “I don’t mean to make you angry. Believe me when I say I can’t help myself. I’ve never been in love before. All my life I’ve been miserable. There’s so much you don’t know. Don’t deny me the chance for happiness.”

  “It’s hard to say this, but you leave me no choice. Not every-one is meant to be happy. Maybe not even you.” He turned to her then and placed his forefinger on her lips. “Don’t go on with this. You’ll only be hurt.”

  “Too late. I’m already hurt. Just seeing you hurts.” She felt herself drawing near, wanting to kiss him, when, unmistakably, she heard classical music. She looked toward the road just as Ty’s truck drove past the house, made a sharp U-turn and came back. A cloud of dust enveloped everything. He stopped the truck when he was even with the front gate. Like dry mist the dust began to settle, and the truck came into full view. He turned the music off. “I didn’t know they sold fruit here.”

  “They don’t, Ty. They give it away.”

  “What are you doing way out here anyway? You ready to go now?”

  “No, I’m not ready to go.”

  “Suit yourself. You be ready Saturday night though. I’m counting on it.”

  Her hand was shaking, but she waved and he drove off, dragging a cloud of dust behind him.

  “One of my admirers,” Elise said and laughed, but when she looked around Lawrence was gone.

  As she walked home that afternoon Elise felt tense, always worrying that Ty would be around the next corner. She was deep in thought when she reached the house but paused for a moment and stared at the carriage stone.

  Edwin came to the door. “You okay, Elise?”

  “Yes, sir, just lost in thought. You been home long?”

  “Awhile. Come on inside and get something to drink. You look flushed. I’m busy with some paperwork in my study, and Margaret will be late tonight. She called to say she got a new shipment of soap and wants to get everything unpacked before she comes home.”

  WHEN FIVE O’CLOCK CAME, MARGARET locked the door to her shop and went to the back room to begin checking an order of soap. The scent of so much soap in the enclosed room was making her sick, so she opened the back door for fresh air. She was kneeling before one of the boxes when a shadow fell across the floor.

  “Oh!” she gasped. Then, “Peyton, it’s you.”

  “You okay?”

  “Yes, I’m okay. Or I was. You frightened me.”

  “I guess you’re down there praying.”

  “No, I’m not praying! I’m unpacking soap and opened the door because the perfume was giving me a headache.”

  “You’re planning to sell stuff that will give people a headache?”

  “I don’t suppose you ever sold a pair of shoes that pinched! What am I saying? Of course this perfumed soap won’t bother anybody. But put enough of it in a small space, and it can get to you. What are you doing here anyway? Customers usually come in the front door.”

  “I’m not a customer. I was out dumping some trash and saw your door standing open. I just came over to be sure everything was all right.”

  “Thank you. Everything is all right.” She was aware that the opening of her blouse gapped as she put her right hand on the floor to boost herself to her feet. She pressed her left hand against the blouse and nearly fell over before Peyton s
tepped forward, grasped her arms and helped her to her feet.

  For the briefest moment he didn’t move, and the closeness of him nearly took her breath away. Unbidden, she felt a rush of passion and drew a deep breath full of perfume and lust. He still gripped her arms, and she didn’t move.

  Peyton smiled and raised his eyebrows.

  Margaret was furious that he might have sensed her unease and pulled away from his grasp. “Well,” she said briskly, “I suppose Dallas was right. You really are a gentleman.”

  “You’d doubt Dallas?”

  “Not any more. Well now, Mr. Helpful, I guess I’d better get back to my inventory, or I’ll be here all night.”

  She waited for a smart remark that didn’t come. He just turned and started for the door.

  “Peyton,” she called to his back. He stopped but didn’t turn around. “I do appreciate your concern. I really do. Thank you.”

  He turned and faced her. “Oh, it was nothing. I just felt in the mood for a headache.”

  “Here.” She tossed him a bar of French milled soap. He caught it in one hand and pressed it to his nose. “Do you suppose I could ever smell this good?”

  “I doubt it, but you can try anyway.” She laughed and closed the door behind him. Her hands were shaking.

  MARGARET DIDN’ T MIND THE LATE evenings at her shop but regretted she wasn’t able to be home on Saturday when Ty Roberts was taking Elise to a movie. “A date?” Margaret questioned. “Your dad and I didn’t think you knew any young people.”

  “I wish I didn’t know this guy, but he keeps pestering me to go out with him, so I’m going, just this once. He’s a cousin of Peyton Roberts.”

  “Oh,” Margaret said, the familiar flush moving up her neck. “Don’t sound so disappointed, Mom. He seems nice enough, despite being Peyton’s cousin, if that’s what’s worrying you. And anyway, I told you I don’t have any real interest in him.”

  “Where does he work?”

  “I’ve never asked. Part-time on construction, I think. I told you—I don’t have any interest in him.”

  At seven o’clock sharp, when Ty parked his truck in front of the house, Edwin and Elise were on the front porch. Edwin raised his eyebrows. “A redneck?”