Another Yesterday

by Angela Christina Archer

  “Nice weather we are havin’,” I finally said, clutchin’ my hands together behind my back.

  “Yes, it’s been pleasant.”

  While I had kept my tone light with an airy melody, hers was cold and abrasive.

  “Helen and I took a stroll down the beach this mornin’ after breakfast. We only needed a light sweater instead of a big, heavy coat.”

  “That must have been nice.”

  She flashed me another fake smile and with her hand clenched tight on the doorknob, I got the impression she greatly wished she could shut the door and be rid of my company.

  “I can just wait on the steps by myself,” I said, pointin’ behind me. “I don’t want to keep ya from anythin’ important.”

  “Well, that would be helpful.”

  Before I could say another word, she shut the door in my face. Her shoes, once again, clicked against the floor on the other side, this time, however, they vanished within seconds.

  I sat on the top step, tuckin’ my legs up to my chest. While she hadn’t been overly friendly with me when I met her or at church, she wasn’t as rude as she was today. Perhaps it was nothin’ but the simple fact she had a bad mornin’ or perhaps somethin’ else was going on. I bit my lip at the possibilities. Had I done somethin’ wrong? Had she overheard my conversation with Nancy, as my friend had feared? I didn’t think I’d said anythin’ inappropriate or wrong.

  “Why are you waiting out here?” Nancy asked as she shut the door behind her.

  “I just thought it’d be nice to sit in the sun.”

  The young girl glanced up at the sky, squintin’. “I guess it is. Are you ready to go?”

  “Yep. I thought we could take bicycles?” I pointed toward the one I’d borrowed from Helen sittin’ in the driveway.

  “Oh, I love that idea. Let me get mine from our garage.”

  Within minutes we rode down the driveway and out onto the road, headed toward the house we were lookin’ to rent. Along a quiet street, it was just the two of us enjoyin’ the wind in our hair and the sun fleckin’ upon us through the tree branches. While still only the first weeks of April, the cooler weather had warmed in the afternoons, makin’ the day pleasant.

  “I can’t wait for summer,” Nancy said. “It’s so pretty here and when it gets warm there is just so much to do. Plus, that’s when all the out-of-town visitors start coming in. It just makes everything exciting.”

  “How busy does it get around here?”

  She shrugged. “Some weekends you can hardly walk around town without bumping into people. Others aren’t as bad. You’ll probably see more of the traffic than I will. Not everyone buys flowers, but they always need a place to stay for the weekend.”

  “Sounds like I will be busy,” I muttered, both half lookin’ forward to the distraction and half worried about the workload and takin’ care of Rachel.

  “I’m sure Helen will give you days off. Then we can go down to the beach and enjoy all the summer activities.” Nancy glanced over at me, holdin’ her balance on the bicycle. “You’ll see. We will have so much fun.”

  We continued to ride for another couple of miles, until finally, we came to a long driveway. Nancy slowed down and jumped off the bicycle, reachin’ in her back pocket for a tiny piece of paper. Glancin’ around, she lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the sun.

  “I think this is the place.” She looked down at the paper then back up at the street sign a couple of times. “Yeah, I think this is it.”

  I jumped off my own bicycle, and we walked beside them down the drive. The sound of birds chirped from the trees high above our heads.

  “Quite peaceful here, isn’t it?” Nancy asked.

  I nodded, bitin’ my lip.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Can I ask you somethin’?” I asked. My eyes focused on the ground in front of me.

  “Of course.”

  “Does your mom not like me?”

  “Why do you ask that?”

  “She didn’t seem pleased to see me this afternoon.”

  Nancy waved her hand. “She’s just . . . well . . .”

  “Ya can tell me if she doesn’t.”

  “It’s not that she doesn’t like you. She’s just old-fashioned, remember?”

  “I don’t understand. I’m not a man, and this is not any kind of a relationship.” I chuckled, pointin’ between the two of us.

  She snorted. “No, I know. It’s just . . . it’s just, well, you’re nineteen?”

  “And?”

  “And you have a baby.”

  “Yeah? So?”

  “And that baby had to had a father.”

  “Does she believe I had Rachel out of wedlock?” I stopped walkin’ for a moment then continued.

  “Well, didn’t you?”

  I opened my mouth but paused before I answered. Did I want to tell her? Did I want to face a truth I wasn’t sure I was ready for? Tellin’ her would mean questions. Tellin’ her would mean someone would know. Tellin’ her would mean I would have to relive all the memories I’d spent the last several months tryin’ to forget.

  I hated the thought of all of it.

  And yet, I hated the silence more.

  Were we not becomin’ friends? Was she not someone I was growin’ to trust?

  “Her daddy was my husband.”

  Nancy’s head spun toward me and her big, wide eyes blinked. “You were married?”

  “For a little over a year.” I shrugged. “I will admit Rachel was conceived out of wedlock. But we got married as soon as we found out I was pregnant. I loved him more than anythin’.” I paused, fightin’ back tears. “And I still do.”

  “Then what happened? Did you get divorced? Was he unfaithful?”

  “He died.”

  She halted in her place while I kept walkin’. Her mouth gaped open. “Oh, Maggie, I’m so sorry.”

  I turned back toward her, motionin’ her to continue to walk. “There’s no need to apologize. Ya didn’t know. I learned long ago life has a way of bein’ utterly cruel sometimes, and I just have to live with what happened to him.”

  “Helen told my mom ‘the father was gone’, but that’s all she said.”

  “Because that’s all I told her.”

  “But why not tell her the truth?”

  “Why should I have to?”

  She opened her mouth, but closed it, hesitatin’ on her thoughts until she finally either summed up the courage or thought of the right words she wanted to say.

  “You don’t have to. I guess, it just . . .”

  “Gives me a better reputation?” I nudged her shoulder with mine.

  She snorted. “I didn’t want to say it, but yes.”

  “I suppose I’m just not ready to talk about it. Tellin’ people about him would only bring questions—and questions I don’t want to answer. Not right now.”

  “I understand, and I won’t ask any more.” She exhaled a deep breath, shakin’ her head. “I knew my mom was just a fool for saying what she was. She was so mad at Helen for introducing us and giving me the idea of us living together. She’s going to feel like such an idiot—wait. Is it okay if I tell her the truth?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I’m not sure I want anyone to know right now.”

  “I only want to tell her just to shut her up.”

  “And maybe make her feel bad?” I asked, laughin’.

  “Oh yeah.” Nancy paused and bit at her thumb nail while her eyebrows furrowed together. “Although, she’s going to ask me questions, like how did he die and when.”

  I dropped my gaze, kickin’ at a rock in the middle of the driveway as I felt her eyes burnin’ into the side of my face. It was as though she waited for me to answer even though she hadn’t really asked. While I could have simply said the words, I didn’t. I wanted my truth to remain my own, wanted to dwell a little longer in the world where no one in this town knew what I’d done, what I’d gone through.

  She heaved a de
ep sigh. “Well, at least I know she was wrong on so many things. I feel awful for what she called you.”

  “I can only imagine what it was.” I laid my hand on her shoulder. “But don’t apologize. What she said doesn’t matter. Not to me.”

  Although it should have, I spoke the truth when I told her it didn’t matter. Nothin’ really mattered. Except for Rachel. And perhaps the new job at the inn. Things I could count on. Things I could control.

  Bein’ the town gossip was nothin’ new. I’d first been the topic of many conversations at eighteen-years-old when I announced I was leavin’ South Carolina for the sun-filled life in California—and to also become a photographer, nonetheless. While Mama and Daddy were supportive, I knew they had different plans for me—ones that included the rich son of Daddy’s business partner and a mansion on an old family plantation outside of Charleston. Further talk came when I told my friends I was pregnant and leavin’ school. Of course, they pretended to be happy for me, gushin’ about how cute the baby was goin’ to be and how lucky I was findin’ the love of my life. But I could see the judgment behind their smiles. Some even had a hint of pity, as though they believed I’d just thrown my whole life away and was doomed to a life of utter failure.

  What were the words of Claire, thinkin’ me as some sort of a slut compared to all I’d already lived through?

  They were nothin’.

  Nothin’ at all.

  “Hello, ladies!” James leaned against his Camaro as we walked up to the house.

  “Hello, Mr. Grey!” Nancy waved as she parked the bicycle and flipped the kickstand.

  “What is he doin’ here?” I asked, my voice a mere whisper.

  “He’s going to be our landlord. Well, if we like the place, he is.”

  “Ya didn’t tell me that.”

  She blinked, brushin’ her hand across her chest. “Oh, I didn’t?”

  “Ha. Ha. What is with y’all and tryin’ to get me around him all the time?”

  “We’re not trying to do anything of the sort. He just happens to own the property and my mom thought it would be a good place for me . . . and then Helen mentioned you might be looking too, so we thought it was a good idea.”

  “Well, maybe you aren’t tryin’, but Helen sure is.”

  “What has she said?”

  I dropped my voice even lower as James approached us. “I’ll tell ya later.”

  “Good afternoon, ladies. Are you ready to see the house?”

  “Definitely,” Nancy answered.

  I merely nodded.

  We both followed him up the tree-lined driveway toward the tiny house sittin’ tucked away, off the road.

  “It’s awfully quiet back here,” Nancy said.

  “It is, but it’s pleasant. You two will be able to enjoy some of the outside area without much disturbance. There’s even a playground set,” he pointed off to the side of the front yard. “I thought it would be fun for Rachel.”

  “She’s a bit too young for it now.”

  His smile faded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  “But she could still probably enjoy the slide. Maybe we could hold her while we swing too,” Nancy said, givin’ me a sideways look. “She’s only going to get older.”

  “I know. I know. I was just sayin’.” I folded my arms across my chest.

  “The house has three bedrooms, so there’s plenty of room, and a large kitchen and there’s a fireplace in the living room to help with the cold in the winter. I know it can get quite cold up here.”

  “Yes, it can.” Nancy glanced at me and nudged my shoulder. “A fireplace is nice, right?”

  I nodded, givin’ her a thumbs up.

  We continued up the front path, past the tall bushes planted in front of the big window overlookin’ the front yard. Tiny wrapped, pink buds popped among the green leaves, just waiting for summer to open.

  James unlocked the door, openin’ it for us. “You’ll have to ignore any dust. All the furniture was covered, but it’s still is dusty. I promise to have the house cleaned before you move in.”

  “I’m sure it’s fine.” Nancy waved her hand as if to wave off his warnin’ and ducked inside, leavin’ James and me standin’ on the porch alone.

  “I hope you like it,” he said to me.

  “Oh, I’m sure it’s more than fine.” I bit my lip, regrettin’ my earlier snarky tone. “I’m sorry if I offended ya with the swing set comment.”

  He shook his head. “You didn’t. After I mentioned it, I too, thought she would be too little. But, depending on how long you stay . . .” He shrugged. “Maybe she will enjoy it one day.”

  “Maybe.”

  Before I could step inside, he shifted his weight, movin’ between the door and me. “I . . . I’m glad you decided to stay and work at the inn.”

  “Yeah, I am too. I didn’t know what I was going to do, so I was happy when she offered.”

  He cocked his head to the side and his lips twitched. Thoughts swam in the darkened green hue of his eyes, but he didn’t say another word. Instead, he shifted his weight once more, movin’ so I could pass by.

  Nancy waited for us in the kitchen, and she gave me a wink as I stepped inside. “Think of the meals we can cook.”

  I cast her a glare, archin’ one eyebrow as I reached for the oven door, opened it, and looked at the racks inside. Why, I didn’t know—somethin’ to do to distract myself from the sparkle in her eyes as she glanced between James and me.

  “It has lots of counter space too. I love the mint color.”

  She strode out of the kitchen, a little bounce to her step while my fingers slid across one of the white cabinet doors. I grabbed the handle, poppin’ it open. The smell of cedar wood overwhelmed, and it reminded me of openin’ up a pencil box on the first day of school.

  “I love that smell,” I whispered.

  “I beg your pardon?” He asked.

  “The smell. Cedar. I love it.”

  “Oh, yeah, it’s a rather fresh scent. Reminds me of pencils.” He laughed.

  “I was just thinkin’ that.” I strolled around the rest of the kitchen, openin’ up drawers and other cabinets. Although dusty, there was an odd cleanliness to them as though they’d never been used or seen any groceries or dishes.

  “Has anyone lived here before?” I asked, spinnin’ to face him.

  He cleared his throat and shook his head as he opened his mouth to speak. Another voice came out instead.

  “Hey, you two! What’s taking so long?” Nancy yelled from the other room.

  We both eyed each other for a moment, before consentin’ to her inquiry, and by the time we made it out to her, she was spinnin’ in the livin’ room. “I’ve already been through the rooms and I love it. Does all the furniture stay?”

  “Yes, it does.” He looked back at me. “I’m afraid it’s not set up for Rachel, though. We can probably find you a crib from someone in town or I can drive to Bangor and we can get you one along with anything else you need for her.”

  I held up my hands. “Oh, that’s not necessary. Helen found me one through the woman who does hair at the beauty parlor. I can go pick it up anytime.”

  “That’s helpful.”

  “Although, if she needs anything else, I’m sure she’ll let you know,” Nancy glanced between the two of us then gave me a wink.

  I smiled at her but grit my teeth as I widened my eyes—a silent warnin’ she needed to stop. She merely chuckled and spun away from us once more.

  “Well, I think it’s perfect,” she said. “And I think we should take it. What do you think, Maggie?”

  “It is lovely.”

  James rested his hands on his hips. “But?”

  “But? What but? There is no but,” Nancy said.

  “It sounds like Maggie has a ‘but’ in there.” He pointed toward me.

  “What’s wrong with it?” she asked. Her hands were clutched around her purse strap and she arched her eyebrows as though plagued with worry I was about
to—with just one word—crush her dreams of freedom from her parents’ rule.

  “Nothin’. Nothin’ is wrong with it. It will be perfect.”

  “So, does that mean you’ll move in with me?”

  “Yes, I will.”

  While she bounced up and down, screamin’, he cocked his head to the side and leaned over to whisper.

  “That wasn’t convincing.”

  “Oh no?” I pointed toward her.

  “I mean for me.”

  It wasn’t that I didn’t love the home or didn’t wish to move in with Nancy. The freedom might actually be good for me too. Not that Helen had a parents’ hand over me. I could come and go as I liked, without a word to her, but still I felt like a child livin’ at home while I was at the inn. Here, it would be different. At least somewhat. I still had the responsibility of Rachel.

  On paper there wasn’t a thing wrong with the house or the idea. Still, though, I wasn’t sure about havin’ James as a landlord. What if somethin’ happened to the house? Or worse, what if we couldn’t afford it? Could I face the embarrassment of tellin’ him I had financial struggles or that my toddler broke somethin’ that would cost him a pretty penny to replace?

  A car pulled up the driveway and parked in front of the house.

  “Are you expectin’ someone else?” I asked him.

  He stared out the window for a moment, watchin’ the older couple climb out of the car. While the wife focused on the swing set, clutchin’ her chest, the husband turned in a few circles as he walked, glancin’ at everythin’ on the property.

  “Excuse me for a moment,” James said.

  Before either Nancy or I could utter a word, he darted for the door, closin’ it behind him.

  “I wonder what that is all about?” Nancy said.

  “I wonder too.”

  TEN

  “Oh, I just love the smell of fresh seafood, don’t you?” Nancy inhaled a deep breath, blowing it out slowly as we got out of the car and made our way through the parking lot of Moe’s Lobster Shack. It was Friday night and the night for Evan’s birthday party—a night Nancy’s been talking about nonstop for the past week.

  “I guess so.” I chuckled.

  Situated among the boat docks, Moe’s stood out like a sore thumb just like the day I first saw it drivin’ through town. The leanin’ buildin’ had been pounded and weathered by so many storms, the older blue paint faded and began to peel in some spots, while the sign above the door was missin’ the letter H in shack. This was the cool place to be for young adults in Shadow Brook—or so I’d been told.