Stardust: A Novel

by Carla Stewart

  My chest tightened as he read. At first I was curious. Intrigued. Then confused. Paddy had bequeathed me the Stardust Tourist Cottages. All of it except his and Doreen’s personal belongings.

  My heart sped up, and I was certain I’d misunderstood. While Hugh read on, Doreen reached over and took my shaking hand in her calloused, knobby one.

  “There are a couple of provisions. The first is that Doreen shall have access to one of the cottages for as long as she is alive or desires to occupy one. The second is you must continue the operation of the business for at least five years from the date of transfer of the property. You may assign a third party to run the day-to-day operations, but you may not lease or sell the property for the stated time.”

  As the news sunk in, the main question that surfaced was “Why? Why me?” And I asked it of Doreen, not Hugh.

  “Simple, sweetie. Paddy always took a hankering to you as a child. Said you had the Tickle spirit. And I think you reminded him of a picture he has… had of his mother. She was a spitfire. Like you, Paddy said.”

  My insides churned with the gravity of it. What did I know about running a tourist court? What did I know about anything?

  “I was crazy over him, too. But surely there were other nieces and nephews… or even you. Why wouldn’t you want to continue to run the Stardust?”

  She shook her head, her silver hair wispy and soft like a cloud. “The only other nieces and nephews are on my side of the family. Which is one of the reasons I’m anxious to finish the arrangements here. My family is from Oklahoma, and I’ll be going there next week for an extended stay. Maybe permanently.”

  Done. Just like that. In the blink of an eye, I’d been handed the keys to my future. Unfathomable. Undeserved. And what it left me feeling was uncertain.

  Hugh ruffled the papers. “I can draw up the document to transfer title. It shouldn’t take more than a day or two.”

  Doreen stood. “Thank you. I hate to rush, but I need to stop by Garvey’s Funeral Home. I forgot to take Paddy’s eyeglasses. He’ll look more natural for the open casket with them on, don’t you think?” She patted me on the cheek, her fingers lingering for a moment, the wrinkles in her face softening as she smiled.

  A million thoughts swirled through my head. Things I needed to know. Questions I didn’t even know to ask. I only hoped I’d have time before Doreen left the state.

  Hugh added to my bewilderment as soon as Doreen was gone. “Truth is, Georgia, you’ve got an albatross on your hands. Doreen told me she had some reservations herself. When Paddy made the will, you still had O’Dell, and heaven only knows what he was thinking. Perhaps that O’Dell would own up and do what he should’ve been doing all along and take care of his family. At the very least, Palmer’s gesture was sincere, and he thought he was doing you both a favor by naming you in the will. In my opinion, a girl like you’s got no business out there on the highway running a tourist court.”

  Immediately, I recoiled. Girl like me? I glared at him. “But the will seemed clear to me. While I do agree it’s a tall order, I’m not so sure it’s out of the question as you imply.”

  “I’m sure it’s a thrill to be named a benefactor, especially in your current state of widowhood, but if I were you, I’d exercise the third-party option. Advertise for a manager, let him run the place. You’d have to oversee it, of course, but the place is run-down. I didn’t want to mention it with Doreen here as it always stings to realize you’ve invested an entire life into something that’s hardly more than a pile of rubble.”

  My hackles rose. “It’s not that bad. I went out there looking for Doreen yesterday… before I learned about Paddy. Some paint and fixin’ up will do wonders. I’m not afraid of the work.”

  “Not saying you are. But you should consider my advice. Don’t take it personal—consider it a nice windfall you can turn into cash at the end of five years. The land oughta be worth a pretty penny or two.” He pulled a cigar from his desk drawer, leaned back in his leather chair, and held a silver lighter to the cigar tip until an odorous cloud erupted.

  The smell of it turned my stomach, Hugh’s puffing a painful reminder of the days when he entertained my pleas of finding Mama and Daddy. The old hurts reared up inside of me. Our vagabond life back then, skipping from one place to another. And the childish dream that one day my parents would return to the Stardust and at least give me an explanation.

  Ah, the Stardust. It came down to that, didn’t it? Hugh might be right, but he also might be wrong. Something had taken hold of me. Determination to prove myself. Excitement over a new challenge. Freedom for Rosey, Avril, and me.

  The heat rushed at me when I stepped onto the sidewalk, but my steps were light, and I had the sensation of floating like a carnival balloon that’s just escaped the fist of a tiny child.

  [ CHAPTER 7 ]

  Gossip about the Stardust would travel like lightning on the telephone party line, so instead of making a jaunt out there to try the keys Doreen had given me, I hurried back to Sally’s to pick up Avril.

  Sally was thrilled. “Yesterday you didn’t know what you would do, and today the good Lord has made a way through the wilderness.”

  “It’s not like I’m in Egypt, for heaven’s sake.” I explained what Hugh Salazar had suggested.

  “You could let a manager run it, but you’d still have the responsibility. Besides, a change would be good for you. Think of your girls, sweetie. They’ll love it with all that room to roam, and I betcha you’ll have things spruced up in no time. You know, a coat of paint, some new window boxes filled with geraniums.”

  “One problem. I have no money.”

  “No, but the Magnolias have been panting for a new project since we finished up the flower beds over to the library. Honey, you see about fixing up the cottages, and I’ll put the Magnolias to work on transforming the grounds into a showplace.”

  Bolstered by Sally’s enthusiasm, I dropped by Aunt Cora’s with the girls after supper and found her sitting on the porch with the sheriff.

  Sonny hopped up and offered me his rocking chair. “Time to make a pass around town. Be seein’ you, ladies.” And I should have guessed by his hasty departure that he’d already delivered the news.

  Aunt Cora asked the girls if they’d like to run around back and play on the tire swing. They streaked off, giggling. She sat there fanning herself, looking off in the distance. I’d always favored this time of day, soft shadows as the sun dipped behind the trees. Damp smells starting to rise from the bayou. Too early for fireflies, but the cicadas were already practicing for their nightly chorus. As much as the evening beckoned, I was too antsy for porch sitting with what I wanted to discuss with Aunt Cora.

  “I guess you heard about Paddy Palmer.”

  “Sonny mentioned it.”

  “Did he mention anything else?” Sometimes you had to get Aunt Cora warmed up for tricky conversations. Let her take the wheel.

  “Said it was cancer that got him.”

  “Yes.” She wasn’t making it easy for me, so I blundered on. “I have a dilemma of sorts. Apparently, Paddy wanted to keep the Stardust in the family, and he’s willed it to me…”

  Chin jutted up, head cocked a fraction to the side, she said, “So it’s true… the rumors?”

  “You’ve heard then?”

  “There are no secrets in Mayhaw. Sonny ran into Doreen down at Garvey’s when he went to check on leading the funeral escort.” She smoothed a wrinkle from her linen skirt. “Of course, you turned it down.”

  “No, that wasn’t an option. I was hoping you might go out to the Stardust with me, maybe tomorrow afternoon… just to see… well, the possibilities. It’s an opportunity for me to do something with my life, quit this waffling about—”

  Her look cut me off, and in the shade of the porch, I couldn’t tell if she was angry or perplexed. Only that her lips were drawn tight above her quivering chin. As if to keep the emotion from spilling out. It was a side of Aunt Cora I’d rarely seen. She was
an expert at being coy and flirtatious or bossy and intimidating—always in charge. But never confused. Or anxious.

  I touched her lightly on the arm. “I’m sorry I didn’t come over right away to tell you. I had to get Rosey from school, fix supper. I see now, it would have been better to tell you before Sonny beat me to it… Well, Sonny’s a character, isn’t he? Always the first to know everything. I’m sorry. I owed you that much at least.”

  “At the very least.” She stiffened and reached into her pocket for a hankie. Blotted the corner of her eye. “You’ve no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.” Her words hissed out. “Exposing your girls to merciful heaven only knows what. It’s not a proper home for children. Strangers coming and going. It’s a filthy place. Utterly filthy.” And the way she spat out filthy I didn’t think she was speaking of cleanliness.

  “I’d still like you to go out there with me and have a look.”

  “The governor will dance at my wedding before I step foot in that place.”

  I saw the opportunity to turn the tables. “Oh? Are you and Sonny planning something you’ve not told me about?”

  “Good heavens, no. We’re only friends. He gets lonely and likes to drop a fishing line in the creek behind the house. Says it’s an exclusive spot where the best channel cats congregate. I wouldn’t know, but a couple times a week, he brings one up to the house for me to fix.”

  Whether Aunt Cora was glad to get off the subject of my news or was nervous when I asked her about Sonny, I didn’t know. But at least I’d filled her in with my plans. And I hoped she’d changed her mind about coming to the Stardust. Maybe I wasn’t so different from Aunt Cora after all. Living life on my own terms. Defying tradition. Going against the grain.

  It should have bothered me more than it did.

  Sally watched Avril again while I went to Paddy’s service. A small clutch of people rallied around Doreen at the dinner afterward, commiserating, asking about her plans. When she announced that I would be taking over the Stardust, a dozen saints offered to help Doreen move her things and help me with anything I needed.

  When I got a chance to slip out, I hugged Doreen and made arrangements to meet her the next day for a tour of the Stardust and get instructions on running it. After I put Avril down for her afternoon nap, I got the long-distance operator on the line and called the regional sales office in Tyler—the number I’d found in O’Dell’s briefcase. Time to get all my ducks lined up.

  I explained about O’Dell’s accidental death and inquired about obtaining his latest commissions.

  The secretary hesitated. “You’re Mr. Peyton’s wife?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “One moment, please.” In the background, a screeching sound as if a chair was pushed back, then a sound of papers being shuffled through.

  A man came on the line. “Tragic. So sorry to hear about O’Dell. One of our finest salesmen.” He cleared his throat. “What can I do for you?”

  I took a deep breath and said, “Mr.—I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Clyde. Clyde Baxter.”

  “Mr. Baxter, we buried my husband five days ago. Last Friday. I’ve just now been able to go through his things and begin to put my life back together.”

  I explained about O’Dell’s drowning, not knowing how long he’d been in the bayou or even that—due to the traveling nature of his job—he was in fact, missing.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Peyton. We’ve been concerned that we hadn’t heard from O’Dell in a couple of weeks, but because our salesmen work independently, that’s often the case. I’m afraid we’ll have to look into this. We will need a death certificate from you. To expedite matters you can present it in person with your identification.”

  “Certainly. I’m in the process of getting the death certificate now. In the meantime, can you tell me what I can expect in the way of unpaid commissions or death benefits?”

  “We don’t carry life insurance for our employees, and I will have to prepare a statement regarding the commissions. I will tell you, we are hit hard by this. O’Dell was our top sales guy last quarter. Heckuva fella.” I detected a choked-up tenderness in his gruff businessman’s voice.

  And for the briefest of moments I remembered the way O’Dell’s eyes lit up when he practiced his five-point pitch. He was a good salesman. I’d bought his excuses plenty of times—the tall tale he’d told me about the waitress at Caddo Lake. The rumors he explained away about Sheila Price, a girl from the Sweet Shoppe. His taking his wandering eye on the road shouldn’t have been such a surprise.

  This wasn’t the time to get my dander up, so I told Mr. Baxter I’d be in Tyler on the following Monday.

  [ CHAPTER 8 ]

  Doreen had a feather duster in her hand, her arm swooshing in time to Hank Williams crooning about jambalaya on the bayou on the radio when I arrived at the Stardust. My heart tugged at the sight; she looked so natural behind the counter, the pinafore apron tied at the back of her neck and around her thick waist.

  Her face lit up when I stepped across the threshold. “Come in, if you can stand the mess. So sorry I’ve let the dust accumulate. Poor Paddy took all my attention.”

  “You don’t have to clean or make excuses. There’ll be time for that…” Realization hit me in the gut. I would be the one ruffling the feather duster, and Doreen would be hundreds of miles away.

  On the radio, Hank Williams finished with a flourish as Doreen did a little jig, her steps light. She made a final swoosh over the rack of keys. “You’re right. Looks as if it’ll have to wait. It’s time to show you around.”

  “And give me a crash course in business management and the fine art of innkeeping.”

  “You’ll be fine.” She waved me back to a door in the corner of the office. On the way I noted the rocking chair where Doreen had rested, waiting for travelers. Maybe not rested, for she always had a lapful of yarn, her knitting needles clacking, or I would find her reading Capper’s Weekly and clipping recipes. Sometimes pasting the recipes in a notebook.

  This wasn’t the time to dawdle, so I followed Doreen into the living quarters behind the office. The smell of ointment and sickness hit me first. I swallowed hard and tried not to think about Paddy. Or people dying.

  A modest open area served as both kitchen and living room. Seating space on the right. A line of cupboards in a small L-shape on the left. A round oak table straddled the two areas. Doreen assured me the men from the church would clear everything out, and I could see they had a tall order to fill—the accumulation of a lifetime.

  “Over here is the bedroom Paddy and I shared. I’m thinking you’ll want the girls to stay in here. The light is nice and cheery in the mornings. And if you don’t mind, I’ll leave this wardrobe since there’s not much closet to speak of.”

  I told her, “Of course,” and tried to picture the girls’ twin beds. Yes, they would fit, along with their chest of drawers. But before I had time to do more than a quick calculation in my head, Doreen had shooed me along, showed me the bathroom—also small but adequate—and then ushered me into the sunporch.

  “We added this a few years back. We loved to sit out here of a morning with the view of the cottages so we could tell if any of the guests came our way to check out. We could still watch out the other side for any deer coming up from the woods.” She pointed toward Zion. It didn’t look so far from this vantage point. Just separated by the length of a couple of football fields. A skittish feeling came over me. It also wasn’t that far from where O’Dell washed up. I turned away from the window and surveyed the room. This would be my room by default, but it was large and airy feeling with windows on three sides. Weatherproof, it seemed. Room for a stuffed chair on one side, my bedroom furniture on the other. Even though I’d have a view of Zion, I couldn’t let O’Dell’s happenstance landing there color my thoughts. Shoot, every street, sidewalk, and business establishment in Mayhaw had reminders of O’Dell.

  Doreen clucked her tongue a
nd motioned me to the breezeway that connected the “quarters” to the washhouse that the child, Merciful, had pointed out. The workroom was utilitarian and more than adequate, with spare linens stacked neatly on open shelves, an old wringer washer, and a newer automatic one. A pressing machine stood against the back wall, and I imagined Merciful and her momma working in this room as warmth and moisture swirled together in a hive of activity. Already I was hoping they would help me get ready for the grand reopening of the Stardust.

  And almost as if she read my mind, Doreen turned around. “I used to take care of all the housekeeping myself, but for a few years now, I’ve resorted to hiring help. Best thing I ever did. You’d be doing them and yourself a favor to have Ludi come help.”

  “Ludi?”

  “Ludi Harper. She lives over yonder.” She pointed to the trees.

  “How do I get in touch with her? Is there a road somewhere I haven’t seen?”

  “Nothing but a trail connects Zion to Mayhaw. The road they use is out a ways, off the road to the lumber mill. Easy to get lost out there, though, so if you want them to help, you can do what I do and hang a sheet out on the clothesline. Ludi will be here before you can snap your fingers and turn around three times.”

  “Thanks. I’ll do that… when I’m further along with the plans.”

  “Take your time, sweetie. You’ve got five or six weeks until Memorial Day. That’s when we always get the first big string of travelers.”

  She showed me the cottages, and there was no doubt it would take every bit of that time to get them ready for paying guests. The bedspreads were frayed, broken springs in some of the beds. The units all needed paint, and more than a few had drippy faucets. Surely O’Dell’s back pay would cover the initial repairs until I could sell our house. My heart raced at the ideas swirling in my head.