A Thousand Yesteryears (7 page)

“To some.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing.” Momentarily flustered, Katie reclaimed her cool aloofness. “If you’d like a tour of the hotel, I can point out the changes your aunt made over the last fifteen years. I can also introduce you to the staff on site. I assume you’ll want to speak with them as a group eventually.”

“Eventually.” She still hadn’t decided what she was going to do with the hotel, but saw no reason in broadcasting her indecisiveness. “Let’s go through the hotel. I’ll look at the books later.”

Though she didn’t voice the thoughts to Katie, walking through the hotel resurrected a host of memories: running through the long hallways before guests checked in—her parents were always adamant she didn’t disturb visitors—eating a PBJ with a glass of cold milk at the café lunch counter, helping her mother decorate the big Christmas tree in the lobby each December. So many memories dredged from the dust of decades she’d buried in the past. One February her parents had held a Valentine’s Day dance in the ballroom, opening the hotel to the town. She remembered red hearts and streamers dangling from the ceiling, tables laden with finger hors d’oeuvres, and a giant ice sculpture in the shape of a swan. Her father had surprised her mother with a bouquet of pink roses and a diamond necklace that made her cry. She and Maggie had watched, hidden in a corner as her parents danced without music in the large ballroom before the guests arrived.

“We have a birthday party scheduled to take place the end of the month,” Katie told her as they stepped into the ballroom. “Rosie rented out the ballroom for special events. We have a contract in place and can’t cancel it, but—”

“That isn’t an issue.” Eve followed into the large room, conscious of the echo of her heels against the hardwood floor. It gleamed with several coats of wax, reflecting the glimmer of three chandeliers suspended overhead. A dozen circular tables draped in white linen surrounded the dance floor, a raised dais at the front of the room. In its heyday, the Parrish Hotel had hosted wedding receptions and banquets. “I don’t want to change anything Aunt Rosie had planned.” That much was true. “I’ll need the details—time, vendors, planned events, employees who are scheduled to work.”

“I can get you a list. Would you like to see the café now?”

She nodded, then followed Katie back to the street level. Presently closed, the River Café opened at 11:00 AM for the lunch crowd, followed later by dinner. According to Katie, it was mostly locals who came for lunch, the limited business rarely enough to warrant extended hours, but Rosie hadn’t wanted to close her doors to the regulars. Dinner tended to be a larger draw, but far from the steady stream of patronage before the Silver Bridge collapsed. The smaller crowd aside, it was still the hotspot in downtown Point Pleasant on any given night.

Cozy and intimate, the café sported several large booths on one side of the room banked by a series of tables and an ornate wooden bar on the far right. The décor was an eclectic mix of antiques, hand-blown glass, and riverboat memorabilia. She remembered some of the pieces, like the large ship’s wheel suspended above the bar, from childhood.

Katie introduced her to several of the employees who were present, then allowed her to wander on her own. Eventually, she wound her way back to the office and settled in her aunt’s desk chair, thankful to be alone with her thoughts.

Adam Barnett had indicated if she wanted to sell the hotel, he might be able to connect her with a buyer. Her mother wanted her to settle matters quickly and return to Harrisburg. How easy it would be to leave everything in Barnett’s capable hands and head home and wait for the arrival of a settlement check. She didn’t need to be here, but her parents had once owned this hotel in partnership with Aunt Rosie. Her father had loved it, and her aunt had kept it solvent after the bridge collapse. Given everything she knew about Point Pleasant, that hadn’t been an easy task.

She spent the next several hours sorting through ledgers, files and books. Katie returned once or twice to see if she needed anything, but basically left her on her own. When lunchtime rolled around, Eve abandoned the office, found Katie at the front desk, and suggested they have lunch in the café.

“You want to have lunch with me?” There was no mistaking Katie’s look of surprise.

“I think we should talk. Is there someone who covers the desk when you go to lunch?”

“No, I usually close the lobby. Give me five minutes, and I’ll meet you in the café.”

She didn’t seem overly pleased by the idea, but showed up as promised. They settled into a booth, ordered sandwiches off the menu, and quickly dispensed with small talk. Thankful to have the forced niceties behind them, Eve got down to business.

“How long have you worked for my aunt?”

“Since I was sixteen.” Katie fiddled with the paper wrapper for her straw, smoothing it between her fingers. “I started part-time as a waitress after school, then went full-time after my son was born.”

“Your son?” The revelation struck her like a thunderbolt.

“Sam is seven. The bus drops him off outside after school, and he stays for an hour in the lobby doing homework until my shift ends. Rosie didn’t have a problem with that, but I’ll understand if you want it to stop. School ends for the summer in a few days anyway, so I’ll be making other arrangements for him.”

It was hard wrapping her head around the idea of Katie with a child. She was tempted to ask about the father but feared the information might be awkward. What if Katie was an unwed mother? “Let’s see how things go.” She took a sip of the iced tea the waitress had left. “So you eventually made the switch from the café to the front desk?”

Katie folded her hands on the tabletop, her back straight, gaze unflinching. “I help out where I’m needed. After several years, I was managing the café for Rosie, doing the ordering, menu planning, and scheduling. Later, she asked me to help in the office, and I made the transition. Toward the end, when she grew sick, I took on more responsibility.”

“She was sick?” Eve pounced on the idea. It had always been her impression the cancer came swiftly. “I thought everything happened quickly.”

Katie glanced down at her hands. “She knew long before she told anyone. At the time, I didn’t understand, but looking back, I can see her getting things in order. Your aunt never did anything without a purpose, Eve.”

She felt a twinge of envy. “You sound like you knew her well.”

“I did.” No hesitation. “Most people in this town didn’t want anything to do with me, but Rosie was different. She took a chance I’d amount to something.”

Eve shifted uncomfortably. She’d been one of those people who’d formed an opinion of Katie based upon what others said. Her aunt would have admonished her for such narrow-mindedness, her parents, too.

As if conscious of her uneasiness, Katie steered the conversation elsewhere. “I’m thankful she didn’t suffer. When the end came, it came quickly.”

Eve’s stomach did a small flip-flop. “I wish I’d been with her. I don’t understand why she didn’t tell anyone. I would have come back if I’d known she was sick.”

The waitress, a young girl Katie had introduced as Nancy, arrived with their sandwiches, and for a time, they said nothing. When the girl left, and Eve had salted her fries, she found she had little appetite. She was a fish out of water in a town she’d deserted. At least, it felt that way. The girl seated across from her knew more about her beloved aunt than she did. The legacy of her family, the hotel, and the house her aunt had left her, felt like the trappings of a stranger.

Katie took a bite of her cheeseburger, then set it back on her plate and dabbed her mouth with a folded napkin. “You can’t blame yourself.” Her voice was softer than before, a trace of sympathy in her eyes. “I think Rosie was determined to suffer alone.”

Eve glanced up, startled. “What does that mean?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said—”

“No, I want to know what you meant.” Something resonated in her heart, prickling the hair on her arms. She’d be the first person to admit her aunt had changed over the years, the carefree spirit she’d once known becoming reclusive and sad.
That damn bridge. Why did it have to change everything?
“Aunt Rosie was well liked.”

“She was.”

“Many people would have flocked to her aid.”

“If she’d allowed them.” Katie bit her lip, clearly indecisive. “Look, I have no right saying this. It’s just my opinion.”

Eve nodded, urging her on. “Please.” The walls she’d once felt for Katie Lynch crumbled. This woman plainly had a closer relationship with her aunt than she’d had over the last decade. Jealously lanced through her, but with it came the desire to set aside past prejudices. “If you know something—anything—I’d be grateful.”

Katie fiddled with her fork, adjusted her napkin over her lap, then nodded firmly as if reaching a decision. “I don’t pretend to know everything, but your aunt opened a door for me she closed on other people. These last several years, I probably knew her better than anyone in town.”

The jealousy resurfaced, sharper this time, but Eve remained silent.

“My mother and I aren’t close. We communicate, but that’s about the extent of it.” Katie raised her chin, a touch of defiance in her green gaze. “You know my sister took off before the bridge collapsed. Or, at least, that’s what everyone would have me believe. That she got tired of life in Point Pleasant and ran away.”

Eve offered a slight nod. The cruder gossip at the time had insinuated sixteen-year-old Wendy Lynch was knocked up and ran off to have an abortion. Everyone knew she slept around. The girl was fond of smoking, drinking, and drugs, with a weakness for boys and the backseats of their cars. “Easy” was what people had called her.

Katie pressed her lips together. “I’ve never believed it, but can’t disprove it.” She shrugged and shook her head, her ponytail bouncing behind her. “It doesn’t matter anyway. All I know is that between my mom’s reputation and Wendy’s, everyone had me pegged.”

Eve lowered her eyes, shamed by her own bias.

“If it hadn’t been for your aunt giving me a job when she did, I’d probably be collecting welfare right now. Maybe I needed a strong female influence, and maybe she needed a daughter.”

Or a niece
, Eve thought guiltily.

“Whatever the reason, we connected, and I’m eternally grateful. She’s been there for me throughout the years. I was at her side as much as she’d allow.” A brief smile flickered over her lips. “Your aunt was closemouthed when she chose. She told me only what she wanted me to know.”

Eve sat back, her lunch forgotten. She felt a closeness to Katie she hadn’t expected. Had Aunt Rosie latched onto Katie because her own niece had left Point Pleasant? No, that was unfair. To Katie and to Aunt Rosie. Her aunt didn’t choose people because she settled for second best. She befriended them because she saw promise in them, and she was rarely wrong.

“When did she tell you she was sick?” Eve had to know.

“Not until she couldn’t hide it any longer. By then, it was just a matter of weeks.” She bit her lip and looked skyward as if fighting tears. “I tried to convince her to do chemo, but she said it was too late. That she’d refused treatment intentionally.”

“Why?” The idea was preposterous. How dare Aunt Rosie be so selfish! She should have realized she had people who loved her.
Who’d abandoned her, packed up, and left Point Pleasant fifteen years ago.
A sharp stab of guilt pierced her heart.

“Eve, I’m sorry. She…” Katie looked stricken. Taking a deep breath, she plowed ahead. “She said she deserved it. That the cancer was payment for something she’d done a long time ago.”

“
What
?” Anger and outrage streaked through her. Her aunt never could have done anything to warrant such an unjust sentence. No, it simply didn’t make sense. Katie was making things up. Baiting her, fearful she planned to sell the hotel and put her out of a job. The awful wretch was playing on her sympathy, trying to make her feel guilty.

“I don’t believe you,” she snapped.

Katie’s gaze was level. “I didn’t expect you to. But I was the one who sat by her bed when she was dying.”

Eve drew back in shock. “You were with her?” Her heart fluttered and rolled over like a tumbleweed. When she spoke, her voice was small, a splinter of its normal volume. “At the end?”

Katie nodded. “They gave her morphine to manage the pain. She was in and out of sleep. Drifting, hallucinating, saying things that made no sense. She kept repeating how sorry she was for what she’d done, and how she prayed God would forgive her.” Her brows knit in a puzzled frown. “Something about gray vines.”

“Gray vines?”

Katie nodded. “That’s what it sounded like. I tried to ask her what it meant, but she was delirious, too far gone. Eventually, she slipped into a deep sleep and never recovered. If it’s any consolation, the doctor said she didn’t suffer.”

Eve exhaled, only then realizing she’d been holding her breath. All of her frustrations and doubts aside, a single truth weighed heavily on her heart. “Thank you for being with her. It means a lot to know she wasn’t alone.”

Their conversation veered into safer topics after that. What more could be said? Her aunt had elected to keep her cancer to herself until the last possible minute, had refused treatment, and then announced she deserved to die. Unsettled by the thought, Eve tried to imagine what would make her aunt surrender without a fight.

True, Aunt Rosie had never married and had chosen to live alone, but she’d once had an opportunity for happiness she’d allowed to fall by the wayside. Her behavior then hadn’t made any more sense than it did now. Engaged to be married, she’d called off her wedding after the Silver Bridge collapsed, saying she’d been too devastated by the tragedy to consider her own happiness.

Eve’s memory of that time was spotty at best—her father dead, her best friend missing and presumed drowned, the town in a state of shock and grief—but she recalled Aunt Rosie’s intended groom, Roger Layton, begging her to reconsider. Maybe events would have unfolded differently if Aunt Rosie had proceeded with her wedding. No doubt she would she have gotten help when she needed it, embracing the treatments that would save her.