by Nancy Mehl
The look on her face suddenly turned serious. “There’s nobody next door like in our other apartment. Sometimes they said bad things to me if I bounced my ball in the hallway. I’m glad no one’s mad at me here.”
I chuckled. “Well, you won’t be able to bounce your ball in the restaurant when it’s open, you know. And you’ll have to find a way to keep yourself busy while I’m working.”
“Miss Cora said I could help her. She’s gonna give me a whole quarter a day.” She searched my face to see if I was impressed. I tried to look properly amazed.
“When did you start calling her Miss Cora?” I asked.
Her brow furrowed with the gravity of her explanation. “Well, she is like your boss, and you told me to call your other boss Miss Sylvia. So I decided it was the right name for her.” She raised her eyebrows. “Is that wrong?”
I shook my head. “Absolutely not. I think she looks just like a Miss Cora. Don’t you?”
She giggled. “Yes, she does. I think we’ll be very good friends.”
“I do too, honey.”
“Mama?”
“Yes,” I said, chomping on a piece of bacon.
“If you start working here, do you have to dress funny like some of the other ladies?”
“You mean in long dresses?”
She nodded slowly. “And funny hats.”
I shook my head. “Miss Cora told me I can wear whatever I want, so I’ll just wear jeans and a nice blouse or sweater. And my comfortable shoes.”
She thought for a moment. “What about an apron like Miss Cora?”
I laughed. “Yes, I forgot about the apron. I’ll have one of those too.”
“Good. I like them. They look cool.”
I winked at her. “They are cool, aren’t they?” I found it funny that my modern daughter liked aprons.
“Mama?”
“Yes?”
“Where is the TV? I’d like to watch cartoons now.”
I swallowed hard. This should prove to be interesting. I explained to her that the TV was still in the car. I’d bring it in, but there might not be any TV channels available in Kingdom. However, I quickly reassured her that the DVD player would still work, and she would be able to watch all her movies. I had to explain the concept more than once, since in Charity’s mind, anytime a TV is plugged in, shows just magically appear. But after going around several times about airwaves and cables, she finally decided that as long as she could watch her DVDs, Kingdom was still a good place to be. Our TV only got three channels in Kansas City anyway, so it wasn’t really a big loss.
We cleaned our dishes and headed back upstairs. I’d gotten a broom and dustpan from the kitchen, along with some disinfectant and clean cloths. By the time Cora arrived, we had everything pretty well straightened up. I put out some of my pictures and a few knickknacks from home. And in the storage room we found a large wooden box that could serve as a toy box for Charity. Since it was empty and shoved in a corner, I hoped Cora would be okay with it. And she was.
“My, it’s beginnin’ to look pretty good up here,” she said when she came up the stairs. “I have a few things in my car that should help. Why don’t you two help me carry them in?”
We made several trips to bring in some colorful rugs, a couple of quilts, and a small mahogany bookshelf.
“Cora, this is wonderful. Perfect for our books. Thank you for letting us use it.”
She waved her hand at me. “I’m not lettin’ you use anything. All this stuff is yours—if you want it.”
I hugged her. “Thank you. I know I keep telling you how much I appreciate what you’re doing for us, but I truly don’t know where we’d be if it wasn’t for you. You’re an absolute angel.”
She blinked her eyes and sniffed. “Don’t remember ever bein’ called an angel before. You’re gonna make me cry if you don’t knock it off.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “I told Avery Menninger about you stayin’ here, and Monday afternoon he plans to bring you some furniture that used to belong to his daughter before she moved away. It’s nice stuff, Lizzie. And there’s a proper bed for Charity.”
She gazed slowly around the room. “Why don’t we clean up these floors today before we move that furniture in? They could sure use some polishin’.” She frowned at the walls. “We don’t have time to paint, but I think if we wiped these walls down really good, we might get them lookin’ a whole lot better.” She grinned at both of us. “Are you girls game?”
We both said yes and spent the rest of the afternoon working to make the upstairs of Cora’s Corner Café a livable space. We were able to fit all the extra items into the storage room. Then we polished the floors, cleaned the walls, and put rugs down. By the time we finished, it was beginning to look like a real home. As we’d moved all the things we couldn’t use out of what would be our living room, we’d uncovered a large wood-burning stove sitting in the corner. It hadn’t been fired up in a while, but it was in great shape and had been properly vented.
“I had that put in about three years ago,” Cora said as we surveyed our handiwork. “I was hopin’ my sister might think about movin’ here, and I wanted to make things nice for her. But she won’t leave Oregon. It’s been her home all her life.”
“Maybe she’ll change her mind someday.”
Cora shook her head. “No, I’m afraid not. She has multiple sclerosis, and travelin’ that far is out of the question for her now. It’s only her and me left. We had a brother, but he died a couple of years back, and our folks have been gone for a long time.”
“She’s not married?”
“No, she never did find anyone, but she’s the kind of person who’s happy livin’ alone. Now me, I hate it. I miss my husband every day.”
“You never had children, Cora?”
“We wanted them, but it just never happened. We didn’t let it get us down, though. We had each other, and that was enough.”
Cora and I carried logs from the large woodpile just outside the back door and placed them in a box next to the stove. I love fireplaces and could hardly wait to get some furniture in the room so we could start a fire and enjoy the cozy atmosphere. I also fetched our TV and DVD player from the car. Charity looked relieved to see them. We all went downstairs for dinner, tired but pleased by our efforts.
“You two sit here while I make supper,” Cora said.
“Heavens, no,” I said. “You worked too hard to be waiting on us.”
She laughed. “I’m makin’ some grilled cheese sandwiches and heatin’ up some chicken noodle soup that’s in the refrigerator. Not much work to that. I’ll be back in a flash.”
I gave up and stayed where I was. Sitting down for a while felt good. Within fifteen minutes, we were eating gooey, buttery, grilled cheese sandwiches. Cora’s chicken noodle soup was the best I’d ever had. Much better than the soup from a can Charity was used to. She kept telling Cora how much she loved it. I was pleased that she enjoyed it, but I also felt a little guilty about not making more meals from scratch for my daughter. Of course, I’d been working a full-time job, studying for my degree, and taking care of Charity without the help of a husband. At the time I believed I had good reasons to cut a few corners, but in the end, the sacrifices I’d made hadn’t paid off. My job was gone, and I had no way to continue my studies. It had all been for nothing.
Cora left around eight o’clock, and Charity and I went upstairs. We sat on the floor and played games for about an hour, and then I put her to bed in her new room. Her toy box was there, along with a beautiful rug and an incredible quilt that Cora had insisted we hang on the wall. A snowman stood in the middle, its stick arms held out to its sides, and a colorful scarf wrapped around its neck. Cups of hot chocolate with marshmallows on top decorated the corners. More marshmallows lined the quilt borders. A big black hat sat on the ground next to the snowman, and next to the hat was a carrot and lumps of coal. It was as if he wasn’t quite finished yet. The whimsical quilt had been crafted by Hope Kauffman,
and Charity fell in love with it at first sight. “Look, Mama,” she said dreamily, “it makes me want hot chocolate with marshmallows.”
I kissed her on the nose. “Me too. If you can stay awake a little bit longer, maybe I can make some.”
Her dark eyes grew wide. “Oh, Mama. That would be . . . like magic.”
I had to swallow the lump in my throat. There hadn’t been very many magical moments in Kansas City. Bedtimes were strictly followed because I had to study every night and then get up early to take Charity to school or the baby-sitter. On weekends, I’d spent almost all my spare time in front of the computer. Having hot chocolate together after she was supposed to be in bed was certainly a break in our routine. And as I gazed at my beautiful daughter, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was long past due.
I hurried down to the kitchen and easily found all the ingredients for homemade hot chocolate. A quick search of the pantry revealed a package of marshmallows. In almost no time at all I was carrying two large cups of hot cocoa up the stairs.
Charity had left her bed and was sitting on the floor in what was now our living room watching the snow drift down outside. I stopped for a moment and stared at her with a lump in my throat. She looked so sweet and innocent waiting for me, the glow from a nearby oil lamp highlighting her features. More than anything else, I wanted to capture that moment and keep it in my heart forever.
Finally I sat down next to her, and we watched the snow together, drinking our chocolate. We didn’t talk much, just enjoyed the cozy room and the feeling that, at least for a little while, we were safe and everything was right with our world.
As Charity got back into bed, she smiled at me. “This was a good day, Mama. The best day of my . . .” Those were the last words she said before she drifted off.
I sat next to her, watching her sleep for a while, grateful that Cora had brought a couple of chairs from the restaurant upstairs so we’d have something to sit on. When I left Charity’s room, I pulled the other chair up next to the window where we’d just been. I gazed out on a quiet, snow-covered town, no one stirring, the snow coming down lightly now. The only illumination came from a porch light installed next to the front door of the café. It was hard for me to believe I was back in Kingdom.
As I wondered what the future had in store for us, I soaked in a feeling of peace—something I hadn’t experienced in a long time. But would it stay? Could I trust it? Or would the evil I’d sensed in Kansas City find a way to follow us here?
I left my spot by the window, headed toward my bedroom, and crawled into bed. That night I dreamed I was walking down a road bordered on both sides by bright wildflowers. But I was afraid to pick them, afraid of the deep, dark, and bottomless ravine that lurked somewhere behind their beauty.
CHAPTER / 8
Monday morning passed quickly. I was kept busy trying to learn Cora’s way of doing things. All in all, it was easier than I’d anticipated, thanks to my training with Betty. Who knew I’d end up owing her so much? But as much as I appreciated Betty’s help in my time of need, working with Cora was much more enjoyable.
Cora was like a calm tornado, cooking food, training me, and joking with her customers. Amazingly, she managed to do it without a hint of stress or strain. And although I didn’t have access to all the modern conveniences available in Kansas City, the morning flowed without a hitch. Since there wasn’t an electronic cash register, I figured change in my head. I actually enjoyed it more than dealing with the cash register at Betty’s. Always on the fritz, it had definitely made my job harder. Checking customers out the “old-fashioned way” was refreshing.
One thing became apparent as I watched Cora run her kitchen. Even though she had a large generator, the building itself had a minimum of outlets, and they were used sparingly. Besides making coffee in old-fashioned metal coffeepots, she toasted bread on the grill instead of in a toaster. None of this appeared to cause her a second of concern.
However, this situation presented us with some interesting challenges upstairs. With our bedroom space heaters plugged in, we didn’t have many outlets left for lamps. This was problematic, since we had no ceiling lights. In my bedroom, I used one of Cora’s old oil lamps. I’d been brought up using them so it was no problem for me, but I forbade Charity to touch them. It was too dangerous. Fortunately we were able to plug in Charity’s favorite bedside light. Another yard-sale purchase, it was adorned with pink butterflies and flowers, and my daughter loved it. Because it had three bulbs and we could select different levels of illumination, we kept one bulb on at night for her. Our living room had only one outlet for our TV and DVD player, so unless we wanted to plug it in and out all the time, we had to use the second oil lamp in that room.
Having to go downstairs to the bathroom at night was a problem too. I’d told Charity to wake me up if she needed to go, and I would light the lamp in my room and carry it with us. It was a lot of hassle, but it was obvious the situation wouldn’t be resolved anytime soon.
When they set up her restaurant, even Cora’s number one supporter, Avery, refused to help her with the electrical issues. Church members dared defy the elders only so much. Since no one from Kingdom would help, she hired someone from Washington to set up the generator and put in the outlets. The same electrician also helped her find good deals on used restaurant equipment. One of his customers had just gone out of business, so Cora was able to pick up a large refrigerator, freezer, grill, and dishwasher for a song. “When that nice man drove into Kingdom with my appliances, you’d have thought I invited the devil himself to town,” she’d told me. “And when I had a phone installed here and at home . . . some folks stopped speakin’ to me for a while.” She’d shrugged. “Business fell off for a couple of weeks until my customers forgave me and started comin’ back. A couple of the men told me they couldn’t stay away ’cause their wife’s cookin’ wasn’t anywhere near as good as mine.” She’d covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes sparkling. “Now that’s the kinda stuff we have to keep between us. Okay?”
I’d promised to keep her secrets, which wasn’t hard, since I didn’t have anyone to tell anyway.
“Funny thing is,” Cora said after securing my vow of discretion, “now Avery has a phone himself. A lot of the farmers got ’em ’cause they need to be able to order supplies and things they can’t get in Kingdom.” She’d grinned widely. “I feel kinda responsible for helpin’ them by bein’ the first rebel.” She’d chuckled. “You’ll be surprised at all the folks champin’ at the bit for electricity now. I may be the first one to sign up, but I won’t be the last.”
After the lunch rush, things slowed down long enough for a sandwich and a cup of coffee. I ate in the kitchen so I could visit with Charity, who’d been having a ball watching Cora cook.
“This is a very exciting place, Mama,” she said. “I love it here, and Miss Cora is so nice to me.”
“I’m glad, honey. So you’re not bored?”
She shook her head. “Oh no. Miss Cora tells me stories, and I’m drawing all kinds of pictures.” She gave me a very serious look. “I don’t have time to be bored, Mama. I’m way too busy.”
I smiled at her. “I guess we’re both pretty busy.”
Cora pushed open the door to the kitchen. “Avery’s here with your furniture,” she said. “Will you hold the front door open for them? And flip that Open sign over, will you? Don’t need no one botherin’ us for a while.”
“Sure.” I told Charity to stay put so she wouldn’t get in the way. Then I jammed the last bite of my turkey sandwich into my mouth and hurried out front.
There were only a couple of customers left in the dining room when I got there. I turned the sign over on the front door and held it open. The cold December air rushed in, and I wished I’d grabbed my coat. The red apron Cora had given me to wear over my clothes might keep me safe from food stains, but it didn’t offer much protection from freezing temperatures.
I stuck my head around the door to see Avery Men
ninger pulling a mattress out of the back of his truck. Someone else was assisting him, but he was on the other side, and all I could see were pant legs.
“Open it wide, Lizzie,” Avery called out. “We got a lot of stuff to bring in.”
I found it funny that Avery didn’t say hello, just got down to business, even though I hadn’t seen him in five years. He’d always been a very pragmatic man, and it was evident he hadn’t changed much. I nodded at him, still trying to swallow my sandwich while wishing I hadn’t shoved such a big piece of food into my mouth. Trying to chew it was proving more difficult than I’d anticipated. I pulled the door back as far as I could. There were several pieces of furniture on the truck, including a beautiful green couch, a dark wood dresser, and something that looked like a headboard for a four-poster bed. I hoped he had the footboard too.
Avery came up the stairs and backed into the dining room, his hands holding tight to the bottom and side of the mattress. He looked over at me. “Be obliged if you could keep that door as wide as possible, Elizabeth Lynn.”
I smiled, unable to talk with my mouth full. At this point, I wanted nothing more than to spit out the uncomfortable piece of food. But I needed a napkin, and the closest table was still too far away for me to reach.
Avery pulled the mattress in almost all the way, but it seemed to get stuck. Whoever was on the other end was obviously having a problem. Wanting to help, I came around in front of the door, holding it open with one leg while I tried to help pull the mattress the rest of the way inside. Suddenly, something went horribly wrong. When I yanked on it, the mattress shot through the door, flipped over, knocked me down, and landed right on top of me. I took an involuntary deep breath, and the bite of turkey sandwich in my mouth lodged itself in my throat.
“Get that thing off of her,” Avery hollered.
The mattress moved, and as I lay there choking, I found myself looking up into a familiar pair of green eyes. Noah Housler stared down at me, his expression a mix of alarm and amusement.
