James spoke to both of them, looking hard at each one in turn. “I agree, but I have to stop and pick up my vehicle. Could one of you drop me off at the Duck Inn Diner?”
“Sure,” Bibb answered enthusiastically, before Leah even had a chance to reflect on where the Duck Inn Diner was. Bibb saw the look of confusion on Leah’s face. “It’s that little café that has a statue of a hound with a dead duck in its mouth out front. It’s right before you get to the Guilford Courthouse Museum.” Leah nodded her head in recognition. “We’ll meet you there. James, did you have luggage to claim?”
James was still stunned, trying to figure out where Bibb fit into all of this and how she could possibly know about those letters. They were a long held Melbourne family secret, and she wasn’t a Melbourne.
“James? James?” Bibb called softly, trying to get his attention without tapping him. “Lord James Melbourne?”
“Sorry, what were you saying?”
“Luggage, do you have any?” she repeated.
“No, just this,” he said vacantly, lifting up the leather bag and setting it back down on the table. He bit his lip, looked at the bag again, and snatched the letters from the side pocket. He took a deep breath of resolution, unzipped the center section, and stashed the papers inside. “Let’s go.”
Leah was way ahead of them in the corridor, making her way to the parking garage and her car. Bibb escorted James, looking sideways every few moments to make sure he was keeping up with her fast pace. He smiled in automated response, then sank back into his private little bubble of bewilderment. An awkward silence kept pace with the odd couple as they wove their way through the crowd, past the baggage claim, and through the automated exit doors that opened into a heat rated at blast furnace level—Lord James Melbourne’s welcome-back greeting to North Carolina.
Bibb’s deli mustard-colored vintage Volvo was pristine, waxed to brilliance, but squealed when the air conditioning kicked in. James looked at her with the unexpected noise, but she just smiled, tilted her head, shrugged one shoulder, and said, “Hey, it works.”
James returned her smile, and then retreated into his own realm of reflection, uncomfortable with the prospect of polite, meaningless conversation. He looked out the side window and saw Leah at the stop light in a purple Prius. He flashed recognition: that was the same car Dani was driving last autumn. October 31. Halloween, the waitress called it.
That seemed a lifetime ago. Back then, he was free, although he didn’t think so at the time. He had felt burdened with the inherited family responsibilities. The trip to the States had been a lark and a gift to himself. He came to check out Lord Julian Hart’s involvement with the Revolutionary War, and maybe find out what had really happened to him and his stepson, Lord Wallace Urquhart, Ninth Earl of Cavendish. Were they kidnapped, then murdered when their families refused to pay ransom, or did they become mysterious secret agents, covertly helping the young, colonial-era America win her freedom? The British citizen in James hoped the two had died honorably, but the visceral man wanted to believe that the two men had done what they believed was right, and followed their hearts, no matter what the political implications.
Focus, James, focus! You made the trip, purchased the ‘historical document’ that was really a boner of a map and not the registry of British soldiers involved in the North Carolina colony during the uprising, met that strange pickle-puss of a man, Simon, and the colorful, perky and just a bit plump, Dani Madigan. Then you went back to England, met and married the body-beautiful Clotilde, and life rapidly crumbled into biscuit crumbs and glass shards.
And now full circle back to America. A divorce, a cryptic bundle of centuries-old correspondences, and a cigarette pack full of precious jewels. Yeah, right. Now add to that the mysterious mill owner/businesswoman Bibb who knows about the very secret Melbourne letters. And let’s not forget the recently recovered from date-rape-poisoning, Leah Madigan. Yesterday she was the hospital nurse to her AWOL mother who returned for a one-day reappearance after traveling back in time 230 years. Phew! And he didn’t even want to bring into the game of guess who, when, where, and why of Grandpa and his disappearance last year. To hell with full circle: his life was a never-ending, enigmatic, Möbius loop!
“Are you getting out now, or do you want to wait for…oh, she’s here already.” Bibb turned off the ignition, but the car kept sputtering. A wheeze, a couple of knocks, a long, low whistle, and then the engine finally shut down. “What can I say?” Bibb shrugged, “It gets me where I want to go, even if it does complain afterwards.”
The two of them chuckled as they walked into the little café, the mood of the day elevated by the singing of the veteran Volvo.
“Hey, there! Welcome back!” Frankie, the waitress who had served him pot roast and hot rolls last Halloween, was there with two of the same, old tattered menus. “Pick a table; there’re still a few left,” she joked.
Only two of the tables had patrons seated at them, and one of them was Leah. She was in the back of the room, running her finger across the rim of a sweaty glass of fresh lemonade. She looked up and smiled as they approached, then instinctively moved her glass to the side, making more room for the two of them.
Frankie followed the two newcomers to the table and set down the menus. “Special of the day is a chef’s salad—too hot to cook, as far as I’m concerned. But we have a long list of sandwiches, too,” she said, and pointed to the highlighted area inside the menu.
“Cherry pie a la mode,” Leah announced with a confidant attitude that screamed, ‘Don’t mess with me. I’ll eat dessert first if I want to!’
“Make that two; I didn’t get mine last time. Mo…er, Bibb, what would you like?” James asked, a little chagrined at almost calling her mother.
“I’ll follow suit. Now, if you’ll excuse me a moment, I’d like to freshen up,” she said, bringing her hand up to the tip of her nose, covering her mouth and whatever expression she was hiding.
James stood up as Bibb left the table. She nodded, smiled, and then rushed to the ladies room, sniffing loudly as the door shut behind her.
James didn’t even want to think what that was all about. He was glad that she was gone, though. He needed to talk to Leah right away and figure out a time and place where the two of them could speak privately and at length. He looked at her and was direct, “I have to show you something. But first, I know you saw your mother yesterday.” It was cold and quick, and hopefully less painful this way.
“Ho-kay,” Leah drawled. “How did you know? I hardly recognized her, and I didn’t think that there were very many people who did see her.”
“She told me,” he said, “rather, she wrote to me about it. It’s all here in her letter. Actually, there are several letters, but she left a note to ‘read me first’ on this one. In it, she asked me not to read the others until I had spoken with you. She said she had to go back to her husband and her babies, your siblings. She had triplets, she said.”
Leah was stone-faced, but listening. “Did she say how come she looked forty years younger? And triplets? How?”
“Well, no, she didn’t say anything about aging, at least there’s nothing in the first letter. We can read the others together—if it’s okay with you—after we read the first one. As far as having three babies, triplets are a naturally occurring phenomenon, and if she is married, well, you know,” he said, eyes downcast, then cleared his throat, embarrassed at the familiarity he had just shown.
Leah smiled at his blush. “Yes, after lunch we can go to my apartment and read the letter, or letters. I have something to show you, too. Or maybe I do. I’m confused. I wish I had something stronger than this lemonade. But I’ll put any enhancements in it myself, thank you very much!”
Just then, Bibb returned from the ladies room. She sniffled, then smiled weakly. “Anything interesting going on?”
Something snapped in James. “Yes, something very interesting. Evie. You asked Leah if her mother’s name was Evie. Why did you ask tha
t?”
“Oh, shit,” Bibb replied succinctly.
“Who’s Evie?” asked Leah. “My mother’s name is Dani, and why, ‘oh, shit’? Do you know my mother or where she is?”
Bibb let out a long sigh. “No,” she said, waiting for inspiration, “but I know where she was yesterday. Does that count?”
“Is everyone ready for pie?” asked Frankie, her hands full of bowls containing cherries, crust, and ice cream.
“Yes,” said Leah, ignoring for the moment all of the excitement of the last three minutes. “My mother always said, ‘When you don’t know what to do, eat.’ She said you could think better on a full stomach. And Lord knows, we need all the help we can get.”
*6 Pie
The three strangers ate their pie in segregated silence. James was pensive—busy with calculations and theories about whatever. Bibb looked stern—like a mother trying to decide if she should put her wayward child in the corner or swat his bottom. And Leah—well, she was content, at peace for the first time in nearly a year. She didn’t know if these two people, new to her life, would believe her wild story, but she knew they were willing to listen. There was a slim but real possibility that they would even believe her when she told them what had happened at the hospital yesterday.
Explaining her crazy story would certainly be easier because they were strangers. After she related it, she would never have to face them again. This Lord James fellow wasn’t a local, and the gray-haired woman, Bibb, who hung onto his every word, might be from North Carolina, but they had never met before today and probably wouldn’t again. Anonymity was a place of comfort in this situation. Unloading on anyone—especially someone she wouldn’t have to face again—would make her feel better. She had to tell her story to someone before she became a raving alcoholic. Who cared what they thought about her after she talked to them? They’d be out of her life in hours, maybe even minutes.
On the other hand, they might have answers about what had happened. Ah, yes, for now—at least for the next few minutes—she could bask in the warmth of the hearth of hope. She might even have an assistant or two in solving the enigma of her mother’s reappearance and re-disappearance yesterday.
It was a class AAA mystery: Two days ago, her sixty-year-old mother, who had been missing for ten months, showed up in the emergency room as a young Jane Doe, a musket ball lodged near her heart.
The surgeons successfully removed the lead ball, and the next morning, Leah found her mother—in a much younger body—as her patient in recovery. The two of them spent a few awkward minutes together—her mother said she didn’t remember anything, although she did know that Leah was her daughter—and then her mother re-disappeared, this time abducted by a weird little man pretending to be her doctor. The stolen car used in the kidnapping was found a short time later, but her rejuvenated mother and the phony physician had vanished into the woods.
“Ah, that was good,” sighed Leah, as she returned to her company, leaving her musing behind. She pushed her dish away and pulled the lemonade closer. “What? Don’t you like pie?” she asked her two fellow diners, an engaging grin on her face and just a touch of sarcasm in her tone.
James had eaten all of the cherries and ice cream, leaving the crust untouched, and Bibb had just pushed her food around to make it look like she had eaten. They all knew the subject of their little get together wasn’t the food, but how they figured in each other’s lives with respect to the disappearance of Leah’s mother.
James felt an honest smile come to his face. It could have been an awkward situation, but Leah was putting a bright spin on the gathering, lightening the mood, and taking over as moderator of the meeting, preempting the chance of bruised egos. She was definitely the daughter of that off-center old lady, Dani. She, too, was a take-charge type of person and not mousey at all. The young woman had a dry wit and seemed a decent sort. Leah was also easy on the eyes and seemed to have received a lion’s share of intelligence. James’s smile increased—she was also young enough to reproduce.
“Hello? Hello? Anyone home in there?” asked Leah, as she mimed knocking on his head.
James blushed like a schoolboy. “Sorry, ma’am. I guess I’m still on London time. What did you say?”
“Don’t call me ma’am,” Leah said with mock indignation. “I’m not that old! I just wanted to know if you wanted to get set up at your motel or whatever, and then we could meet back at my place.”
“Um,” stalled James. He looked out into the parking lot and saw the old red pickup pull in. “I have to take care of something first. Excuse me, I’ll be right back,” he said, and left the table.
James exited the restaurant into the noonday sun. He was out of earshot of the two women, but didn’t miss any of their conversation. The ladies were rapt, silently watching his proceedings in the parking lot. James handed a thick envelope to the pudgy, middle-aged man in dirty jeans and a baseball cap. The slightly greasy, but obviously happy man opened it. He looked inside, grinned, and gave James a keyring with a mini blue metallic flashlight and several keys on it. They shook hands, spoke a few more words, and then walked away from each other. The man wearing the stained Charlie Daniels tee shirt was grinning and singing as he stuffed the envelope into the hip pocket of his sagging jeans.
It looked like James just made his day. Maybe he could do the same for me, Leah thought.
James came back into the cafe with an equally large smile. “Now I have a vehicle and won’t have to beg a ride. And, as to your question, Ms. Madigan: no and yes. No, I don’t need to get set up at a motel or whatever yet, and yes, I’d be more than happy to meet at your place, preferably right away. Are we ready?”
“Well, since we’ll be in separate vehicles, it might help to know where you’re going. Here, I’ll draw you a map.” Leah dug into her purse for a pen with one hand and grabbed a couple of napkins with the other.
“Let me help with that,” James said. “Excuse me just a moment.” He stood up and walked over to Frankie who was seated at the counter, working a crossword puzzle. “Frankie, do you still have those maps?”
“Well, here’s the city map,” she said, and reached towards the end of the counter to retrieve one of the yellow-edged advertisement street maps, “and the maps to Hanging Rock Park are in the back.”
“Hanging Rock Park?” he asked.
“Yes, Hanging Rock State Park. That’s where you went with your two friends last Halloween, isn’t it? Oh, you didn’t go with them, did you? I thought the three of you left together. Hey, is that your mother over there? It looks like you got a family reunion going with her and the other lady. Is she your girlfriend?” she asked, one eyebrow raised
James just smiled at Frankie’s nosiness and said, “Thanks for the maps.”
He noticed the awkward silence between the two women as he returned to the table. Evidently, the rapport they had established at the airport bar had evaporated. Either that or they hadn’t found anything in common to talk about. That’ll come soon enough.
“Here you are, ladies,” James said cheerily, waving the two city maps like a fan. “Did you find a pen?” he asked Leah.
“Sure did,” she said, and held up her purple marker. She accepted the maps from him and opened out the first one, found the café’s location on it, and drew an ‘X’. She found her street, traced the route to her apartment with her finger, then went back and highlighted the way with the purple pen. “Not exactly a straight route, but easy enough to find. Just follow behind me and use the map if we get separated. Sound good?”
“I think I can manage that,” answered James with the same upbeat tone.
“What’s the address?” Bibb asked, frowning, as if she felt left out of their mini road trip.
Leah grabbed the second map, drew a quick line indicating the route, made an ‘X’ at the café and a ‘Y’ at her home, and then wrote her address in clear, bold letters above the ‘Y’. Almost as an afterthought, she added her cell phone number, looked up at the older
woman, and smiled.
Bibb returned the smile. She had felt alienated. Her two new friends were enjoying a youthful rapport, and she was the odd—rather the old—one out. But no matter what else happened today, this Leah had shown herself to be a lady. She may not be of noble birth, but she did have the ability to make others feel at ease. She had also been there to help when assistance was needed, even if it was only to offer a purple marker to a stranger in an airport. Yes, Bibb had a gut feeling that this was Evie’s daughter, even if she had said that her mother’s name was Dani.
Frankie came by with the check and a pitcher of ice water. “Will there be anything else?” she asked, looking intently at James’s, then Leah’s hands, checking to see if they showed signs of being married or engaged. She smiled and sighed in relief at seeing bare fingers on both of them.
The perusal wasn’t missed by either Bibb or James. Leah was looking into her purse for her wallet, and was oblivious of the inferred relationship, or lack of same. Bibb grabbed the check, said, “I’ve got this,” got up, and walked over to the cash register.
“One more thing before we leave,” James said. “Excuse me, for a moment.”
James went to the wall of maps and flyers for local points of interest and found the one for Hanging Rock State Park. He took it, then went to the cashier’s station and waited while Frankie gave Bibb her change for their light lunch. At the end of the transaction, Bibb smiled and stood back, letting him come forward to talk with their server.
“Frankie, remember that old parchment map Ms. Madigan and that crazy old man were studying last autumn?” She nodded and waited for him to continue. “Did you give them this map to identify the points on the old one, that is, to use as a reference?”
“Yeah,” she replied slowly. “That’s when I told them that the symbol they were pointing to was for the monadnock, you know, that tall, clumpy chunk of rock there at the park. I gave them that same map,” she tapped the map in his hand, “and Ms. Madigan took him where he wanted to go, I guess. Here,” she said as she opened up the map, “they were talking about trails, and well, bless me, it was nearly a year ago. I can’t remember everything now, can I? Oh, but wait, I told them that where they were going was supposed to be sacred Indian ground. That must have been right there,” she pointed to an area off center of the map.
Aye, I am a Fairy (The Fairies Saga Book 2) Page 7
