by Verna Clay
Sandy greeted the women with hugs and ushered them into a cottage as lovely inside, as out. Cherry red, pink, and lime green floral chairs faced a matching sofa, with a lime green oval rug spread between them on the shiny redwood floor. The colors were so cheery they could make anyone smile.
Immediately, Sandy invited Faith to view the rest of her home, which was just as colorful and cheerful as the living room. She winked at Faith, "Okay. Are you ready for my million dollar view?"
"I can't wait." Faith followed her new friend outside through the kitchen door and started ascending stairs to a roof deck. As soon as she glimpsed the view, she gasped. The sea and sky melded into one and she could see forever. So magnificent was the sight that she remained poised halfway up.
Behind her Sandy laughed. "Honey, I know it's wonderful, but you haven't even reached the top yet."
Faith quickly apologized and climbed the remaining stairs. Moving to the railing she gazed from north to south, from one jutting peninsula to the other, and then to the sea and beach between. She moved her gaze inland to Ocean Boulevard with its beautiful homes on either side of the street, and the marina at the end. Soon they would be dining at the restaurant hidden beyond the marina. She returned her gaze to Ocean Boulevard and followed the road until it reached Main Street, with Hope Bed & Breakfast on the northern corner. Beyond the B & B's private beach the sand met up with scattered boulders, and then the forested peninsula owned by Gabby. Faith searched for any glimpse of Stone House, but couldn't see it through the trees.
Dinner at Seafood Heaven was exquisite and possibly the best Faith had ever eaten. The restaurant's atmosphere was warm and inviting with large murals of seascapes depicting every aspect of ocean life, from dark storms whipping up frothy waves, to quiet beaches on sun drenched days. There were also depictions of fishermen hauling in bulging nets with the day's catch, and surfers riding huge waves. Above their table was a smaller mural of a lone island of waving palms set amidst shimmering blue water.
Faith couldn't remember a time since her family's deaths that she had enjoyed dining with friends. She listened to Sandy and Vicky joke about the latest debacle in town—Mama Pink tossing a rebellious teen out of her diner for loud and profane language, and then loudly lecturing everyone about common decency.
At the end of their meal when their waiter, a clean-cut young man with a winning smile who had been introduced as Leo's grandson, Noah, brought the check, Sandy and Vicky both tried to grab it, but Faith held it tightly. "No way. I invited you to dinner. This is my treat. I want–"
She was interrupted by a masculine voice behind her. "Actually, it's my treat." She turned to see Mr. Constanzo walking toward their table. He lifted the tab from her hand and grinned, and both Sandy and Vicky greeted him cheerily. Faith started to protest his generosity, but Vicky said, "It's no use. Leo has a Santa Claus complex."
Faith graciously capitulated and Mr. Constanzo joined them. And when she expressed how much she'd enjoyed the meal and how great Noah was, he grinned. "Thank you. I'm very proud of my grandson. He could be running around with friends, but he chooses to work here. Sometimes I have to make him leave."
Vicky interjected, "Hmm. I wonder where he gets his work ethic?"
Leo laughed, glanced at Faith, and said, "I don't have a wine glass, but how about a toast to Faith, a woman who has charmed us with her quiet manner and sweet disposition."
Vicky lifted her half empty wine glass. "I second that."
Sandy lifted her empty one and chinked it to Vicky's. "And I third it."
14: Vee
After describing her evening with her new friends to Gabby, the gregarious lady invited Vicky and Sandy to dinner at the B & B the next week. As it turned out, most of the residents were out that evening, with only two elderly sisters from Tyler, Texas remaining for dinner. Everyone sat at one end of the table with Gabby in her usual place at the head, and Baxter, who generally sat at the other end, now beside his mother. Gabby patted the chair on the other side of her and motioned for Faith to sit directly across from Baxter.
At first, the conversation mostly praised the fabulous supper of pot roast, red potatoes and huge slices of onions, all simmered in delicious brown gravy, with side dishes of fried asparagus and sautéed mushrooms. Faith bit into a fluffy homemade biscuit while listening to Vicky mention the upcoming street fair and the booth she would be manning to promote the museum. Sandy interjected that she also had a booth.
Baxter sipped his wine and asked Vicky, "Are you going to display any of your paintings at the booth? The ones showing different timelines are fantastic?"
His question captured Faith's attention. She knew Vicky was artistic, but she didn't know she painted.
"No. I haven't painted for a few months, and although I love it, I've been experimenting with different mediums, the latest being clay sculpting." Vicky grinned. "And frankly I'm making a mess of it."
Suddenly, Faith remembered the paintings she'd seen at the local gallery with the artist's signature rendered simply as "Vee." She chanced a question. "Are your paintings in the gallery downtown?"
Vicky's grin widened. "Guilty."
"And do you sign them as Vee?"
"Guilty again."
Faith thought about the painting of the boy and dog. "Maybe you can tell me about the boy and dog. When I saw the painting I wondered if they lived here because I met the boy my first day in Somewhere. But I haven't seen him since then. He said his name is Owen and he was tossing a Frisbee for his dog. The Frisbee landed at my feet–" She stopped talking when Vicky's fork clattered to her plate. She glanced around the table. Everyone except for the sisters was looking at her like she'd grown two heads.
Vicky jumped to her feet and rushed from the room.
Faith looked at Gabby whose mouth was gaping and then glanced at Sandy whose eyes were bulging. She exclaimed, "What? What did I say?"
Baxter said, "Faith, may I speak with you in the other room?" Her gaze met his, and in his eyes she saw the same anger she'd initially witnessed the day he'd rescued her from the storm. His chair scraped the floor as he scooted it back. Faith glanced once more around the table and into the incredulous eyes of everyone except the sisters, who looked curiously from her to Baxter.
Faith's own chair sounded loud in the silent room as she pushed away from the table to follow him.
15: Accusation
Mystified, Faith followed Baxter into the library and he closed the door. He stepped to the fireplace mantel and slowly turned, but before he completely faced her, she said, "I have no idea what's going on or what I said that upset everyone."
Baxter stared at her for a moment and then replied with disdain, "Really?"
Faith didn't know how to answer his obvious contempt.
He continued, "And to think I was naive enough to make excuses for you during the storm, chalking it up to an overactive imagination and some gossip you'd heard."
Exasperated, she exclaimed, "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about Rex, as if you don't remember."
Searching her memory, Faith said, "You mean the child's voice calling for someone named Rex?"
Baxter crossed his arms over his chest and when he didn't change his sullen expression or angry stance, Faith turned to leave. She'd had enough of his game. Her hand was on the doorknob when he said, "Owen was Vicky's twin brother and his dog's name was Rex. They used to play Frisbee on the beach almost every day." His voice lowered. "And they've been dead for over twenty years."
Faith jerked her hand away from the door and whirled around. "That's not possible. I saw them. I talked to Owen."
Baxter's angry stance didn't budge. "You can stop playing your game now. If you're trying to build a reputation as a psychic, it's over. I ran the last so-called psychic out of town, and I'll do the same with you."
Faith's eyes widened. "I swear I've told you the truth. Maybe the part about hearing a child calling for Rex was part of the confusion of the storm, but I talk
ed to a boy named Owen throwing a Frisbee for his dog."
Making an exasperated sound Baxter walked toward her, paused in front of her, reached around her to open the door, and said, "Vicky was very close to her brother and it took years for her to heal. Her mother and father never did. Her father deserted the family and her mother was institutionalized years ago." He shook his head. "Now I need to go undo your damage." He stepped around her.
Somehow Faith managed to return to her room without bursting into tears. As soon as she closed the door, however, she gulped back a wail. What had she done to Vicky? What had she done to all her new friends? Just when she'd decided that Somewhere was the place she could heal the sorrow in her own life, she had inadvertently caused fresh grief in another's. And now Baxter hated her. She had to leave town. Maybe she'd pack and leave tonight. She covered her face with her hands and quietly wept.
A soft knock startled her and she was going to ignore it, but she heard Gabby say, "Faith, its Gabby. Can I come in? Please dear."
Inhaling a shuddering breath, she wiped her eyes. There was another knock and plea. Sniffing back tears, she stepped to the door and opened it a crack.
Gabby's expression turned from concern to relief. "Thank you for seeing me. Can I come in?"
Faith stepped aside.
Gabby entered and closed the door behind her. She motioned toward the small oak table. "May I sit?"
Faith nodded because she didn't trust her voice to speak.
Gabby said, "You sit, too, honey. We need to talk."
The lump in Faith's throat got so big she couldn't swallow and she wanted to run from the room. Instead, she sat across the table from Gabby.
Gabby unexpectedly reached to grasp Faith's hands. "I believe you, Faith. I believe you talked to Owen."
Faith gasped. "But Baxter said he's been dead for over twenty years. It had to have been a child with the same name, but your son thinks I'm trying to do something underhanded. I would never–"
"I know, dear, I know." Gabby squeezed Faith's hands. "Let me explain something about my son." She released their hands and leaned back in her chair. "We'll talk about Owen after I tell you about Baxter."
Faith remained silent but kept her gaze fixed on Gabby.
Puffing a breath, Gabby said, "Five years ago my son went through a divorce that devastated him. His wife was a master of disguise. If you'd met her you'd swear Baxter was the very reason for her existence. But she cheated on him, stole from him, and even aborted their child. He found out when she came to him demanding a divorce and saying she needed excitement in her life. It seems she'd met someone she thought could deliver what Baxter couldn't. He was shocked and when he refused, she dished out the dirty details of her double life. At first, he thought she'd had a mental breakdown, but after investigation, he discovered everything she'd said was true and even worse."
Faith's eyes widened.
"Oh, it gets dirty." Gabby sighed and continued, "Baxter refused to have a prenup believing he had married his soul mate, so Vanessa—that's her name—demanded an enormous settlement and threatened to draw out the divorce as long as it took to get what she wanted. Now mind you, I'm not saying my son was the perfect husband, but what she did was unconscionable. Vanessa brought him to his knees, financially and emotionally. It's only because he's a savvy investor that he's recovered most of what he lost monetarily in the divorce, but he's never recovered his emotional loss."
Gabby became silent while Faith processed her revelation. After a time she said, "I know my son was hard on you, so that's why I exposed his history." She hesitated. "The other reason is because he's drawn to you. He really likes you. After I told him you're a widow I was under the impression he might ask you to dinner."
Jerking her gaze to Gabby's, Faith shook her head. "I don't think–"
"It's the truth. I know my son, and you're the first woman that's touched his heart since Vanessa." She made a dismissing motion with her hands. "But now we need to talk about Owen." Before Faith could say anything she said, "Owen was Baxter's childhood friend and after his death his mother and father started consulting psychics and paying them a lot of money. Psychics started coming out of the woodwork, which bankrupted the family. And when money ran out to pay the charlatans, they all left. Mrs. Patterson was always a little strange, but eventually she lost touch with reality when her husband abandoned her and Vicky. I suppose the séances in which Owen was supposedly contacted kept her mind intact, but when they stopped, she snapped." Gabby leaned forward and again held Faith's hands. "Three years ago we had a guest stay at the B & B and I could see that she was interested in Baxter. He, of course, was shying away from any relationship that involved commitment. At the time, we didn't know she was a psychic. One day, while she was sitting on the porch with Baxter and me, out of the blue she said, "I'm clairvoyant and there's a child named Owen who keeps visiting me with his dog."
Faith inhaled sharply.
Gabby also inhaled and released a long breath. "As you can imagine, Baxter was livid and delivered some choice words to our guest. The next day she left, but before she did, she spoke with me privately." Gabby stood and walked to the window while Faith waited to hear the conclusion to her incredible story. She pulled the curtain aside and stared outside. "She told me she didn't have ill feelings toward Baxter and that she understood his distrust because of his ex-wife's shenanigans." Gabby closed the curtain and turned around. "Now, mind you, no one had told her about Baxter's divorce. But then she changed the subject and said I needed to tell Vicky something that would be confirmed in three years."
Faith clasped her hand over her mouth.
"She said the message I should give his twin sister is that it wasn't her fault."
The women stared at each other for a long time and then Faith shook her head, disbelieving. "It has to be a coincidence or mistake. I simply met a boy named Owen who was vacationing with his family because–"
Gabby finished her sentence. "–because any other explanation is, well, impossible."
Faith nodded. "Exactly." She rubbed her clammy hands on her thighs. "I guess I should let you know I'm leaving tomorrow. I feel terrible about making Baxter angry and causing Vicky grief, so under the circumstances it would be better–"
"No! Baxter can get over himself, and as for Vicky, she needs a friend like you. I want you to stay."
"I can't come between you and your son."
"My son and I are always at odds, but that's what keeps us sharp, and, believe it or not, we enjoy our verbal sparring. His father and I did the same thing. If things got too comfortable between us, we looked for anything to debate. No, honey, you stay here." When Faith didn't respond, Gabby said softly, "There's another reason I think you should stay."
Faith questioned her with her eyes.
Gabby answered the nonverbal question. "You have sadness in you that's festered for a long time. When you first got here it was an open sore, but over the past weeks it's started to scab over and heal. This town is good for you. You're making friends."
Swiping a tear, Faith replied, "But I probably lost them tonight."
The older woman grinned. "No, you didn't. Well, maybe my son. But he'll come around." She walked over and cupped Faith's cheeks. "At least stay until the end of summer. Don't make decisions based on what happened tonight. Granted, it's inexplicable, but let's see how summer plays out, and if you ever feel ready to confide in me about what broke your heart, I'm here for you."
Faith asked, "Are you going to tell Vicky what the clairvoyant told you?"
"No. Not yet. Something in my gut says to wait."
Faith was silent as she considered everything that had been revealed. "Okay, I'll stay, and tomorrow I'll go see Vicky and explain everything as coincidence."
"Good. And I'll tell my son to avoid you if he's going to be rude."
"I really hate that I upset him–"
"I don't." Gabby walked to the door, opened it, but turned around before leaving. "He needs a woman to up
set him."
16: Frustration
Replacing the porch railing at Stone House, Baxter slammed his hammer against the nail until it was flush with the wood. He was furious with his mother.
"Hey Bax, if you keep hitting the nails like that, you're gonna split the wood. Why don't you use your nail gun?"
He slammed another nail. "Because I need to work off some frustration."
Brody Calhoun, the local carpenter who was restoring Stone House shot back, "That bad, huh?"
"Worse."
"Woman trouble?"
Baxter made a disgusted sound and pounded another nail.
"Want to talk about it?"
"Nope."
Brody shrugged and went back to using his nail gun.
After a few more nail poundings Baxter said, "The woman's a liar and my mother is defending her. You'd think a man's mother would be on his side, but not mine; she goes out of her way to make my life miserable." He wiped sweat from his forehead and glanced at his friend.
"You sure you don't want to talk about it?" Brody grinned.
Baxter rubbed his jaw and scratched his neck. "Brody, do you believe in supernatural shit?"
"You mean like aliens and spaceships?"
"No. Like ghosts."
"Hell, no. And I refuse to watch that crap on TV. Scares the shit outta me."
Baxter nodded. "Exactly."
"So, is your mom seeing ghosts?"
"No. But one of the B & B guests is." He paused. "At least that's what she claims, but I know it’s a load of bull and I called her out on it."
Brody started reloading his nail gun. "So are you mad at your mother or the B & B guest?"
