Previously Loved Treasures Page 7

  The difference between Clarence and Mama is that he got treated badly then bounced back, but Mama, she never bounced back. The best you could hope for was a hop, skip, and a jump every now and again.

  I’ve only known Clarence for a day, but already he’s my best friend. You know why? Because me and that dog are equals. I feel like he’s as glad to be with me as I am with him. It wasn’t that way with Greg.

  Given the fondness we’ve got for each other I can’t see myself getting rid of Clarence, so I sure hope Missus Sweetwater doesn’t have a dislike of dogs.

  I’m saying Missus Sweetwater, because the thought of having a grandma hasn’t settled in my head yet. I keep wondering about that first moment, when she opens the door and sees me standing there. Do I say, Hi, Grandma, or Good afternoon, Missus Sweetwater?

  Maybe she’ll be the first to speak; then I can just go along with whatever she says.

  The Arrival

  Wednesday night sleep was impossible for Ida to come by. The excitement of having a granddaughter made her heart flutter with anticipation. It brought the kind of happiness that wiggled in the tips of her fingers and made her feet feel like dancing. At times it almost took her breath away. When she closed her eyes, instead of drifting off she started picturing all the things she and Caroline would do together: leisurely lunches on the back porch, long conversations and shared dreams. She could already envision the girl peeling apples for a pie as she rolled the dough.

  Ida had created her own image of Caroline. It was a softened version of James, his dark hair and eyes, his happy-go-lucky laugh, his charm—yes, the girl would definitely have his charm. This old house will come alive again, Ida told herself, and she believed it.

  Were she to look at the situation through other eyes, Ida might have noticed that the house was already alive. It overflowed with people who had developed a fondness for one another, and on any given evening you could hear the laughter circling the dining room table from miles away.

  In the wee hours of the morning Ida began to think through the list of things that needed to be done. It had all been taken care of. The bedroom where James once slept was now transformed. It was bright, cheerful, and styled for a young woman. Peter Pennington was right; the room didn’t need a new bed.

  Ida breathed a sigh of relief. She was definitely prepared. If Caroline arrived early she’d serve a lovely lunch of stewed peaches and sliced ham. And if she didn’t get there until suppertime, it would be the most festive meal imaginable. Ida had laundered the Irish linen tablecloth and napkins, even though they’d never once been used. She folded the napkins into triangles and with a hot iron pressed them flat. As she thought through her checklist, Ida could almost smell the sizzle of the roast beef she’d cook. And for dessert she’d made her specialty: a three-layer chocolate cake with frosting so rich a single bite could carry a person to utopia.

  After she’d reviewed the checklist for the ninth time Ida closed her eyes, but seconds later the thought came to her: What if Caroline didn’t like chocolate? What if she was a vegetarian? Ida bolted up and climbed out of bed. Trying to make as little noise as possible, she hurried down to the kitchen and started mixing up a carrot cake. Before she put it in the oven, a sleepy-eyed Wilbur stumbled into the room.

  “What’s all the noise about?” he asked.

  “I got to thinking,” Ida said, then explained her fears.

  “Nonsense,” Wilbur replied. “If she doesn’t like chocolate, give her a slice of that wonderful peach pie you served at supper.”

  “Serve leftovers to my granddaughter?” Ida said incredulously.

  “That pie’s not just leftovers, it’s the best peach pie I’ve ever tasted.”

  Ida slid the carrot cake into the oven and turned back. “And what if she’s a vegetarian?”

  “Ida,” Wilbur said, chuckling, “you worry about the most foolish things. Caroline coming here has nothing to do with the food. She’s coming because she wants to be with you.”

  Wilbur poured himself a glass of milk and stood watching Ida bustle across the kitchen. “This Caroline’s a lucky girl,” he said. Then he drained the glass and returned to his room.

  It was almost dawn when Ida climbed back into bed. She’d baked and frosted a carrot cake and prepared a casserole of creamy potatoes and vegetables. Now she was prepared for anything—so she thought.

  Most mornings Ida woke when the first rays of light filtered through the blinds, but then most nights she was sound asleep by ten o’clock. On Thursday when the sun rose, Ida didn’t. She was sound asleep and having the loveliest dream, a dream in which she walked hand in hand with Big Jim and shared the sweet kisses they’d shared in their youth. It was the kind of dream from which no one wants to awake.

  ~ ~ ~

  It was after eight o’clock when Louie hollered up the stairs, “Hey, Ida, there’s no breakfast!” He called out three times with no response. Finally Harriett Chowder, who couldn’t start the day without a cigarette and a strong cup of coffee, volunteered to go rap on Ida’s door.

  Twice Harriet gave a soft knock on the door, but there was no response. The third time she banged hard with her fist and yelled, “Wake up, I need coffee!”

  Ida woke with a start. Casting one sleepy-eye at the bedside clock, she saw it was twenty minutes until nine. “Good grief!” she shouted and jumped out of bed. Pulling on a robe and slippers, she hurried downstairs.

  The first thing Ida did was set a pot of coffee on to brew. Then she pulled the eggs and bacon from the refrigerator. Eggs and bacon took time to make, but she had no choice. A week ago she’d tried setting out a breakfast of cereal but there’d been a considerable amount of grumbling, especially from Louie.

  “This ain’t hot,” he’d said. “I signed up for hot, and that’s what I’m expecting.”

  It was the last time she’d given them cereal.

  Ida scrambled the eggs and pulled out a large frying pan. She glanced at the clock and tried to hurry. It was almost nine; there was no telling what time Caroline would arrive and she needed time to dress.

  Ida poured the eggs into the skillet, then stretched out slices of bacon on the griddle. She was scooping the pile of eggs onto a platter when Laricka walked into the kitchen.

  “I thought maybe I’d lend a hand,” she suggested. “I know you’re saving that fancy chocolate cake for dinner, but if you’ve got any cocoa I can whip up one of my black cakes in no time at all.”

  Louie, with his uncanny ability to zero in on anything food-related, heard the comment. “I don’t want cake! I want eggs and biscuits!”

  “Oh, dear,” Ida murmured, “I’ve forgotten about the biscuits.”

  By the time Ida got breakfast on the table, fed Bobo and Miss Abby, then cleaned up the dishes it was twenty after ten. She had just gone upstairs to dress when the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” Max called out. When he opened the door, a lovely young lady stood there.

  “Well, hellooooo,” Max crooned.

  Expecting Ida and having not been warned about the other residents, an astonished Caroline asked, “Who are you?”

  “Max Sweetwater,” he said, relaxing his body into a lumpy looking swagger. “I live here.”

  “Live here?” Having heard only the Sweetwater in his name, Caroline blurted out the first thought that came to mind. “Granddaddy?”

  “I am most certainly not your granddaddy!” Max replied indignantly. Having an eye for the ladies as he did, he was tempted to tell her he was way too young to be her granddaddy but settled for saying, “I’m a boarder.”

  “A boarder?”

  “Yes,” Max nodded. “A paying boarder who contributes generously to the financial well-being of this homestead.”

  Still a bit confused, Caroline asked, “Isn’t this Ida Sweetwater’s house?”

  Before he could answer, Ida came flip-flopping down the staircase in her housecoat and slippers. “Get away from my granddaughter, Max!” she yelled as she scuttled
across the foyer. Pushing Max aside, she reached out and folded Caroline into her arms.

  “Grandma?” Caroline mumbled, but by then Ida had her squished up against an ample bosom that left little space for words.

  After several minutes of near suffocation, Ida released Caroline and held her at arm’s length. “Happy as I am to see you, you’re not what I was expecting.”

  An icy cold shiver slid down Caroline’s back.

  “Outside of those brown eyes,” Ida said, “you don’t look a thing like your daddy.” She hesitated a moment then added, “Your mama must have been a beautiful woman.”

  “She was.” The words were tentative, riddled with fear. Was Missus Sweetwater going to say Nice to see you, stay a day or two, then be on your way? “I’m sorry if I’m a disappointment,” Caroline said, but before she could go any further Ida interrupted.

  “Disappointment?” Ida gave a chuckle that filled the foyer with happiness. “Shoot, honey, you’re no disappointment. You’re what I’ve been praying for all these years.”

  “Besides having red hair like Mama,” Caroline said, “there’s something else you ought to know. I’ve got Clarence with me.”

  “Clarence? Is he that fellow you’ve been—”

  It was Caroline’s turn to laugh. “Clarence is my dog.”

  “Well, if that’s don’t beat all.” Ida chuckled again. “A dog named Clarence.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Although less than an hour had gone by since Ida finished cleaning up the breakfast dishes, she happily announced they’d be having an early lunch. “After driving all the way from Pennsylvania, Caroline needs some hot food and rest!” She jangled the bell that announced mealtime, and people began emerging from their rooms.

  “Oh, my gosh,” Caroline whispered. “Are all these people boarders?”

  “They all live here,” Ida replied, “but I don’t think of them as boarders. They’re more like resident friends.”

  One by one Ida introduced them to her granddaughter, and they settled around the table. When Max plopped down in the chair next to Caroline, Ida suggested he move to the other side of the table.

  “Laricka’s sitting here,” she said.

  “Gimme a break,” Max grumbled. He gave Ida a slant-eyed look then moved.

  Although Ida had planned a simple lunch of sliced ham and peaches, her happiness carried her away and lunch became grander than a Thanksgiving dinner. Once she’d discovered that Caroline did indeed love chocolate and was not a vegetarian, she brought out the carrot cake and creamy potato casserole alongside the ham, peaches, coleslaw, and biscuits.

  The residents had never before seen such a luncheon. Louie filled his plate three times and then decided he had just enough room for another slice of that delicious carrot cake. While everyone heaped on second and third helpings, Caroline told them of herself: her days in New Orleans, the move to Cherry Hill, and then to Philadelphia. She gave voice to the good memories. The time she and Joelle went to the Mardi Gras parade, the Easter James gave her a giant chocolate bunny, the first Christmas she celebrated with Greg.

  “So where is your young man?” Laricka asked.

  “Oh, we’ve parted ways.”

  Laricka’s eyes grew round and big. “After living together?”

  Caroline nodded, but before she was forced to explain her grandma came to the rescue.

  “Enough about him,” Ida said. “Did you know Caroline is writing a novel?”

  Doctor Payne raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Now, that really is impressive.”

  “I like novels,” Harriet volunteered. “Mostly detective stories and trashy stuff.”

  “I doubt that you’d like mine.” Caroline laughed. “It’s a love story.”

  “Love story?” Max echoed. “Well, if you need any help with research—”

  Ida looked across with a frown that silenced anything else Max had in mind.

  ~ ~ ~

  After lunch they all settled in the parlor. For Caroline it would have been the living room, but for Ida it always was and always would be the parlor. “Sit here,” she said, guiding Caroline to the high-backed leather chair. “It used to be your granddaddy’s favorite spot. He’d sit there to read the evening paper, and before he was halfway through he’d fall fast asleep.”

  “I know the feeling.” Wilbur laughed.

  One story led to another; then mid-way through the afternoon Ida disappeared up the stairs and returned with a stack of family albums. Page by page Caroline saw her daddy change from a baby to a child and ultimately to a young man. He was not yet twenty when the last picture was taken, younger than her by nearly a decade. In that picture there was no brimmed hat. His face was bathed in sunlight and his smile bright, eager looking almost. It was the same person but not the daddy she had known. There was no anger, no bitterness.

  Caroline studied the picture and wondered what had changed him. Was it her? Was he simply not ready to be a father? She could still hear Joelle’s voice telling of the good times they’d had in their early years together. What changed?

  Caroline looked up at Ida. “I know it’s asking a lot, but I would love to have this picture.”

  “It’s yours.” Ida pulled the picture from its corner mounts and handed it to her.

  “Thank you, Grandma.” The word fell from Caroline’s lips easily, not at all forced or awkward as she thought it might be.

  Caroline

  Looking at those pictures was fun, in a strange sort of way. It was like a story of the world before I was born. In the picture of Daddy’s christening Grandma looks younger than me, and Big Jim has a puffed out chest like he’s the proudest man on earth. You could sense how in love they were and how much they loved that baby. Looking at the picture made me feel sort of sad. Not sad they were happy, just sad I wasn’t part of those good times.

  I don’t remember one day of Mama and Daddy being happy together. I’m sure there was a time when they were happy and in love, but somewhere along the line whatever love they had fell by the wayside and meanness slipped through the door. I can’t say who was at fault, and the sorry thing is I doubt either of them could either.

  Seeing Daddy smiling as he did in those pictures makes me think he wasn’t at all the way I remember. In Grandma’s photographs he looked like life was a party and he was going to be the first one there. I wish I could have known him back then. The only time I remember Daddy being real happy was the day he left. He was wearing a big smile when he turned around and waved to me one last time. After that he just kept walking.

  Mama started crying before Daddy was out the door, and she kept right on crying ’till the day she died. Whatever happiness Mama once had most likely left town with Daddy. Being she was so crazy in love with him, I’ve got to believe they met when he was that happy-go-lucky guy in Grandma’s pictures.

  I think back on all those years when it was just me and Mama, and I can’t help but wonder if maybe she was once a smiling-faced, happy-go-lucky person too.

  I don’t know much about Daddy because he was gone for most of my life. But the saddest part is I never got to know much about Mama either, because after Daddy left she closed up like a clam and quit living.

  Settling in…

  It was after six o’clock when they closed the last picture album and Caroline heaved a great sigh. For as far back as she could remember her daddy had been little more than a shadowy figure in the background of life, a tall man with a brimmed hat that shaded his eyes. But as Ida moved through the pictures and retold stories of James in his youth, he became flesh and blood. In her mind’s eye Caroline could see him young, vigorous, and driven by wanderlust.

  “James always wanted to travel,” Ida said. “He made a list of places he was one day gonna see.”

  “What places?” Caroline asked.

  “Australia was one of them. He used to say it was a wide-open land made for adventurers like him.” Ida gave a soft chuckle. “Of course, he said the same thing about China and Paris, Franc
e.”

  “Did he ever go?”

  Ida shrugged. “I hope so. I’d hate to think he had all those dreams and didn’t chase after any of them.”

  “Mama told me when Daddy left he was headed to Mexico.”

  “So I’ve heard,” Ida answered. She tried to remember if Mexico was one of the places James planned to visit. She could picture the list but it was blurry in spots, vague and unyielding.

  When the clock sounded seven loud gongs Ida jumped up. “Oh, my gosh, I’ve forgotten about supper. Louie is going to be furious.” She pointed a finger toward the hallway and asked Caroline to go rap on Louie’s door. “Tell him dinner’s going to be a bit late. Say it will be ready by seven-thirty.”

  Caroline knocked twice before Louie woke and stumbled to the door. When she delivered the message, he rubbed his eyes and glanced down at his watch.

  “I think I’ll pass on dinner,” he said. “I’m still full from lunch.”

  “Okay,” she answered and turned to leave, but before she was halfway down the hall he called out.

  “I suppose I could do with a sandwich or two of that sliced ham.”

  ~ ~ ~

  As it turned out none of the residents were very hungry, so Ida returned the roast beef to the refrigerator and simply set out two platters with the makings of sandwiches. With there being little interest in the food, a lively conversation bounced back and forth across the table. The main topic of discussion was Caroline’s novel.

  “Being a novelist is an admirable profession,” Doctor Payne said. “It’s not like being a doctor, but it’s certainly admirable.”

  Louie seldom missed an opportunity to trim the pompous Payne down to size and piped up. “You wasn’t never a doctor, you was a dentist!” A snicker hung onto the word “dentist.”

  “Dentists are doctors,” Wilbur replied. “It’s just a different doctoral degree.”