by Garcia, Rita
She handed me the journal and I fanned through the pages. “I started journaling as a teenager.” I thought of my tattered journal and the situation with Lilyan, it saddened me.
“It’s a great tool. Getting in touch with our inner self is important—especially when we’re searching for answers.”
“The session today helped. Maggie said you’re easy to talk to—I agree.”
“I’m glad. The purpose of counseling is to have an objective person help you navigate through a difficult situation. It’s not uncommon for an adoptee to have numerous questions. In your case, it’s more complicated because the people who could’ve helped you resolve your conflicts are gone.”
“Can we continue on a trial basis, see how it goes?” My fingertip traced a hand-painted rose on the soft cover of the journal—I wished my life were so perfect.
“Definitely. You can end the sessions anytime you feel they are no longer beneficial.” She paused. “May I ask one more question?”
Tightness gripped my insides as I nodded for her to continue.
“It surprised me today—you didn’t bring up your loss of hearing. I’d like to talk about where you are emotionally with your deafness.”
“I’ve made peace with it. In my mid-teens I became ill with meningitis. I could have died, so being deaf wasn’t the worst possible outcome. I have profound hearing loss in one ear and severe hearing loss in my other ear. My parents consulted doctors all over the world to find a solution, to no avail.”
“You lip-read amazingly well.”
“I do. But I couldn’t possibly read every word, so I’ve learned to fill the blanks.” Memories of my parents rushed to the surface. “My mother forced me to attend therapy and counseling. I hated it. But thanks to her persistence, I excel at lip-reading and I’m fluent in American Sign Language.”
I stroked Goldie’s fur. The way my parents pushed me to overcome the limitations of deafness gave me a new insight. How many ways could a parent say I love you?
The session ended and I felt encouraged. Within me, hope mixed with an equal amount of trepidation. Finding the pieces would require traipsing down a path overgrown with deep-rooted weeds to find the beauty of the rose. Father, please help me find the rose.
Chapter Twenty
I cruised down the highway, my thoughts captured by a beautiful woman with eyes the color of the sea. Perhaps, summoned by my dreams, she appeared. Sam strolled along Shoreview Drive with Goldie trotting along with her. I stopped and lowered the window. “Need a ride?” Her smile sent a surge through my veins. I had a serious problem, falling for a woman who was soon going home.
I reached across the console and pushed the door open. Goldie jumped in and maneuvered to the back. “The day was so inviting I decided to walk—the road home felt longer.” Sam reached up and pulled the strap across her.
“On my way to drop some documents at City Hall. If you haven’t visited the Time Square, I’d be happy to be your personal tour guide.” I pointed to a file folder I’d stuffed between the console and the seat.
“I’ve only made it as far as the shops. If your service includes a cold drink, I’m all yours.” Her lips slowly parted and curved upward.
She was definitely flirting with me. “You got it.” We drove to the opposite end of town. “There it is. Serenity Cove’s Time Square.”
“It’s a circle.” She drew an invisible ring in the air.
“It’s the big clock on the upper portion of the City Hall building. Residents have unofficially christened it Time Square, not to be confused in any way with New York City.”
“Dick Clark doesn’t show up here on New Year’s?” She giggled.
“We’re working on it—a prior commitment issue.” I parked, hurried around as she opened her door. “My name is Logan. Your personal tour guide for the day.”
We made a beeline for the food cart for cold drinks, and neither of us could resist a roasted hotdog with the works. We found a vacant bench under a drooping willow and made short work of our food. Goldie wolfed down her hotdog—no bread, no mustard. Disposing of the wrappings, we continued.
Her hand eased into mine, and I continued my role of tour guide. “These plentiful tall trees tent the square—making it a favorite place for residents.” I gestured toward the occupied benches, and blankets were spread on the ground, picnic style. “Over here, we have the famous rose garden planted with colorful varieties named after our nation’s first ladies, including the Eleanor Roosevelt Rose.” I indicated the pastel yellow rose climbing on a small trellis.
We trekked the walkway circling the town square. We momentarily stopped midway to admire the historic brick building housing the town’s library across the street, and ended at the main entrance.
Water cascaded down a three-tiered fountain, filling the bottom bowl. I pulled some change from my pocket and held out my hand. “Toss a coin and make a wish. The collected money goes to the children’s section of our library.” She fished a coin from my palm and we each flipped a quarter into the pool.
“So what did you wish for?” She smiled teasingly.
“You first.” I threw her a wink.
“Oh, no. If you tell it won’t come true.”
“We’ll wait and see what happens, then.” My wish—she stays.
“Notice how the walkway parts and goes around each side of the fountain.” I pointed to the concrete walkways. “Meeting again on the other side. It mimics the road, which circles the town square.” We followed the path and mounted the steps leading up to the doorway of the office building.
Inside, we went straight to the City Hall offices. I placed the folder in a black metal tray, and we retraced our steps along the marble flooring.
The ringtone sounded on my cell, and Alec’s number came up in the caller ID. I wanted to ignore the call, but he never bothered me on my day off unless there were problems. “What’s up?”
I heard Alec’s sharp intake of breath. “Lilyan apparently overdosed. She’s in the intensive care unit at Mariner Bay General.”
Every muscle in my body tensed. “Make sure her aunt has been notified. On my way.” I flipped the phone closed, and shoved it into the case attached to my belt.
“What’s wrong?” Sam looked up, fine lines wrinkling her brow.
“Alec—police business.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I’ll drop you off. I need to make a run to Mariner Bay.”
We drove the circle and maneuvered onto Main Street. I tightened my grip on the wheel as darkness assaulted my thoughts—ones I couldn’t give voice to. Was this connected to Lilyan’s obsession about me? How could it have gotten so out of proportion to reality? What if she succeeded? I wanted to tell Sam what had happened, but being bound by the confidentiality that went along with wearing a badge—I remained silent.
Chapter Twenty-one
A church on a rolling knoll. Picnics on a bluff overlooking the sea. Serenity Cove—a step back in time. Thoughts of Lilyan cling to me. Her mental illness cast a long shadow and when all the perfection becomes covered by darkness—it’s easier to accept returning to Stone Valley. ~ Journal entry
I scrambled out of the truck and held the door for Goldie. In the few seconds it took for her to leap down, Logan was at my side. He ran his hands down the length of my arms and stepped back. “Prayers are needed.” The gray pallor of his skin signaled bad news. He crawled back into the driver’s seat and I watched his truck until he made a left out of the alleyway.
Would Maggie know anything? A sign above the rear door read Magnolia’s Antiques. Entering the back door, I found her sitting crossed-legged on the floor, unpacking a box. She withdrew a linen napkin and fingered the intricate crocheted edges.
She gazed up at me, crinkles forming around her narrowed eyes as she unfolded herself from the floor. “What’s going on?”
“Something’s awfully wrong. Logan couldn’t tell me, but said we should pray.”
“Let’s pray. Then we’ll go to Julia’s. If Logan
is in danger, I want to know.”
The thought of seeking out the story on the street felt wrong. I started to tell Maggie as much, but my determination to find out what horrible thing had happened silenced me. We ended our prayer with a blended amen, and jogged to the coffee shop.
Maggie scooted onto a stool at the empty counter.
“Do you mind sitting in a booth? It’s easier to talk.”
She slid back off the seat. “Sure.”
We chose a booth near the counter. Julia waltzed over and filled our mugs. “Can I tempt you with something sweet?”
“Maybe later.” Food was about the last thing on my mind.
Maggie fidgeted with the handle on her cup and looked up at Julia. “Any good gossip making the rounds today?”
“Randall Greene, Mandy Harris’s dad, was in earlier. She had her baby. A little girl.” Julia placed the carafe on the counter behind her and turned back. “You fishing for some particular reason?”
Maggie updated Julia about Logan and his mysterious emergency situation. “I thought maybe you might have heard something.”
Thelma popped into the shop and joined Julia next to our table. Maggie scooted over and patted the vacated seat. “Join us.” She motioned to Thelma. “Julia, you, too.”
“This is the shop’s slow time. It’d be nice to sit and chat—rest these feet of mine.” Behind the counter, Julia grabbed two more cups.
I slid to the right and made room for Julia next to me. Maggie immediately kicked in gear. “Anything unusual going on around town today?”
“The Harris’s have a new baby girl.” Thelma paused for a sip of her coffee. “Today’s my day off. So I only heard about the baby because I ran into the new grandma, at Serenity Blooms. Rhonda was ordering a huge arrangement of pink roses for Mandy.”
Julia grinned as though she was itching to tell a secret. “How did the baby’s quilt turn out?” I should have known. What else would Thelma give the newest resident of Serenity Cove?
“Adorable, if I do say so myself. I adapted a Dresden Plate pattern, and pieced it with colorful flowers and butterflies.” Beaming, she opened her purse and passed around a picture.
We all oohed and aahed over the gorgeous creation. I gave the photo back to Thelma. The purpose of our visit continued to cause a knot in the pit of my stomach. But we had hit the notorious dead end.
Julia looked behind her, so I glanced over my shoulder. Phil Larson, the owner of the barbershop on Main Street, had come in and hopped on a stool. Julia maneuvered out of the booth and scurried behind the counter. “Hey, Phil. How’s it going?” She filled his mug with the dark steamy liquid. The afternoon sun cast strobes through the windows.
I had no idea what Phil said before he pulled a drink over the brim of his cup. But the sudden concern on Julia’s face literally pulled me to the outer edge of the booth’s seat.
Maggie touched my hand. “Phil says something tragic has happened.”
Julia went around and climbed on a stool next to him. Maggie and Thelma joined them, and I took Julia’s place on the other side of the counter, so I could keep up with the conversation.
“Eli Simms was in earlier. And right smack in the middle of his haircut, his wife called him on his cell. He reached for his phone, so I stepped back to give him a little space. But I’ll tell you, when he finished the call and told me what had happened, I don’t believe I’ve ever heard anything sadder.”
Julia put her hand on his arm. “Get to the point, Phil.”
“Claire told Eli, while he sat right there in my chair, told her their niece Lilyan had killed herself.” Phil took another slug of his coffee. “Committed suicide while a patient in the psychiatric ward of Mariner Bay Hospital.”
Julia’s mouth drooped as she shook her head. “Poor Claire. I’m going to close early and go see about her.”
My apprehension turned to disbelief. Without a word, Maggie and I both stood and trailed out the door. We rushed to her shop. Linda contorted her face. “What’s the matter?” She eyed Maggie. “You’re bone white.”
“Close up the shop, and lock up when you leave. Please.” Maggie sat at the lace-draped table where we’d shared many a cup of tea. I dropped into the wing chair across from her.
Before she left, Linda came over and touched Maggie’s shoulder. “If there is anything I can do, call me. Anytime.”
Maggie reached up and placed her hand on Linda’s. “Thanks. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Linda flipped the sign to Closed and left through the door we had only moments ago entered.
Maggie’s eyes glistened with tears. “If only she’d gotten help sooner.”
“From the angst I saw in Logan, he’s blaming himself, at least to some extent.”
“It’s obvious there were deep-seated issues in Lilyan’s life—problems not involving you or my brother.” Maggie’s chest rose and fell. “I need to focus elsewhere until we hear from Logan. Tell me about your session with Dr. Ellie.”
“You were right about her. She’s easy to talk to, like chatting with a friend. And I adored her cottage. A much better setting for counseling than a stark office.”
“I helped her redecorate it.” Maggie swiped at her eyes with a tissue. “She wanted it to have a relaxed, beachy feel.”
“Anne’s apartment—did you help with it?”
She shook her head. “All Anne. She shared sample swatches with me, and asked for my opinion here and there. But it was her vision and she carried it out.” Even through her red-rimmed eyes, she beamed with pride.
“The furniture, did it come from your shop?”
“Only a few items. I assumed the other pieces were family heirlooms.” She flicked invisible crumbs from the lace tablecloth with the edge of her hand.
“I know this is a little out there. It’ll take Logan a while to get back from Mariner Bay. I thought it might give us enough time to go see my grandparents.”
From her hesitation, I expected her to refuse. “It’s better than sitting here waiting. You want me to drive?”
I sighed in relief. “Yes. Thank you for going with me.”
“No problem. Like I said, it beats waiting.”
“What if they refuse to talk to me?” I folded down the visor and checked my makeup, knowing we were almost there. I flipped up the mirror as Maggie stopped at a red light and glanced at me.
“Then you’ll keep searching for a way to reach them.”
She turned onto White Lane. According to Anne’s will, it was my grandparents’ street. I was curious—would John see Anne in me? “Do you think seeing me will cause him to have a change of heart?”
“We’ll know soon enough.” She made a left onto a long gravel driveway.
Two dogs surrounded the convertible warning us to stay put. “I hope Goldie doesn’t get too upset.”
A man stepped out on the front porch. “Shall we brave the war?” Maggie pulled the door handle.
I swallowed hard. “Stay, Goldie. I’ll be right back.” I gradually opened my door and stepped out. I wanted to run, far away.
“Hi, John.” Maggie continued to where he stood.
“This your brother’s version of sending in the cavalry?” He kept his hand on the screen door.
“I brought your granddaughter to visit you.”
“I already told your brother that Liz and I don’t have grandchildren. Now leave before I let these hounds do their job.” He went inside allowing the screen to bang behind him.
“John, I’m Samantha. You’re my grandfather.” In answer, he slammed the front door behind the screen. I stared after him, wishing I had the words to reach him.
We kept the dogs in sight as we slowly moved to the car. “A wasted trip.” I reached into the back seat and reassured Goldie everything was fine.
Maggie maneuvered onto the road. She stopped on the shoulder of the road and turned toward me. “Don’t give up. I’m positive he had a shock of déjà vu—like seeing Anne when she was your age.”
“He’s my g
randfather—I wanted to talk to him, to meet my grandmother. Why does he hate me?” Had my coming to Serenity Cove only added to the sorrow of losing their daughter?
“He’ll come around—you’ll see.” She eased back onto the street. The coastal road was covered with a late afternoon haze. A pod of pelicans flew over the waves and the air smelled like rain. Carried away with my own thoughts, I was surprised when Maggie stopped the car behind the shops.
“Why don’t you come on over to the bookshop? We can talk while I finish up a few things. I want to make an appointment with a realtor.” I held the door lever. “I’m selling the bookshop.”
“I’ve been hoping you’d reopen it. We could be kindred business women.” Her laughter conflicted with her expression. Apparently, the comment wasn’t in jest.
“I considered it, for about two minutes. If I had a bucket list, running a bookstore wouldn’t be on it.” Goldie nudged me from the back seat and wiggled as though she was about to cross her legs and do a jig. “She needs to go, now.” I laughed at her little furry antics.
Maggie grinned and we both climbed out. She watched Goldie playfully visit her haunts before turning toward me. “I think I’ll go home. I need some time to myself to take this all in. I may even stop and talk with Dr. Ellie.”
“You know I’m here if you need me, right?” I said, giving her a hug. “Thanks for going with me.”
“No problem. Text me if you hear from Logan, and I’ll do the same.” Maggie’s tires kicked up dust as she drove away.
I knew where Maggie was coming from—a chance to absorb it all. I searched my bag for my keys and called to Goldie.
Inside the bookshop, at Anne’s desk, my thoughts triggered more questions about the woman who once sat here. Why had Anne never married? Had she limped through life? Was she happy? Who was this person—my birth mother? With a push of my foot, I rolled the wooden banker’s chair away from the desk. “Baby. Let’s go upstairs.”
