Heather Horrocks - Who-Dun-Him Inn 02 - Inn the Doghouse (5 page)

“I don’t want to take Zach with me for this visit,” I said. “And since it’s Saturday, he’ll be out of school. It would be better if I waited.”

She hugged me. “It’s important to do this right away. You bring Zach to my house and I’ll entertain him.”

“What about your lunch?”

“Just a bunch of old biddies clucking.”

“Don’t you want to cluck a little, too?” I teased.

She smiled. “Bring Zach over.”

I paused. What did I have to lose? Except some of my worries, perhaps? “Okay. I’ll bring him early enough so you can still make it to your lunch.”

Chapter Four

Saturday, October 29

THE NEXT MORNING, I CLIMBED out of my car and pulled my jacket tightly around me. A chilly wind blew, skittering the brittle, fallen leaves through the air like Forrest Gump’s feather.

I came early enough to make sure I’d be back in time to pick up Zach before Grandma had to leave for her lunch with old friends. When I dropped Zach off, Grandma had said that after the lunch she would be hosting a party at her place, since my siblings were still in town. Maybe even Georgia would show up, though she rarely attended our family events, and barely made an appearance at the party last night. Joannie and Pamela and their children were staying at Grandma’s big house, but were about to go clothes shopping when I left.

Eric and his wife were staying at my Inn while their four children were back in Arizona. I hadn’t seen too much of them so far, so I assumed since it was a romantic vacation, they naturally wanted their privacy.

My parents were flying to California to start their cruise.

Putting all thoughts of my family aside for the time being, I left my purse in the trunk of my car, along with my worries, and carried only a greeting card, a lap blanket, and some tissues in case I cried.

Of course I would cry.

Then I pushed open the gate to the small Silver City Cemetery. A historic landmark, it was the resting place for many of my ancestors. The newer cemeteries had flat markers, but many in this place stood tall. It would no doubt be a spooky place after dark.

The card was a silly habit, but it usually made me feel better. Robert always gave me silly, sentimental cards for special occasions, so each time I came to visit him, I brought one. I never left the cards, though, because I didn’t want anyone else to find them. I would just read it aloud to Robert, cry, then take it home with me to add to the stack of cards in my top dresser drawer.

I hardly got any sleep last night, what with thinking about Lonny asking me out and sensing I was at a crossroads moment.

I came here today, to the cemetery, acting purely on faith. I trusted Grandma and followed her advice by not waiting until Thursday, but instead talking to Robert today.

I stopped at Fanny Felter’s grave—the lady my grandmother worked with in the bank when she was young. Grandma would always laugh when she told the story about the employees’ names being typed in reverse order on the bank records, leaving poor Fanny as
Felter, Fanny.

I paused in front of the graves of Grandma and Grandpa Melbourne, and, a few steps over, Grandpa George.

Realizing I was putting off what I really came for, and afraid of the emotions that lay ahead, I drew in a deep breath. I hoped to get through this visit without folding emotionally, but I wasn’t sure I could.

I carried my greeting card a few more steps and looked down at the next headstone.

Beloved Husband ~ Father ~ Friend

Robert Butler

At three years older than I, he was twenty-eight when the drunk driver hit him and would have turned thirty this year. Far too young to leave this earth, as well as leaving behind a premature widow and young son who missed him desperately.

I blinked back my tears. If I couldn’t even bear to look at his marker, I knew I wasn’t going to make it.

I sucked in a couple of ragged breaths, finally regaining control of my raw emotions. Spreading out the blanket, I sat down on it next to my husband’s headstone. I pulled the edge of the blanket over my legs, and leaned against Robert’s headstone, allowing its chilliness to cool my back.

I sat for a long time without saying anything, before I finally took out the card. Aloud, I started to read the pre-printed message.
“Nothing will ever be the same again without you. Missing you more than I ever thought I could.”
Then I whispered the part I wrote,
“I love you forever, my darling. Vicki.”

Since I came to talk to Robert, I said in a voice husky with passion, “It’s true, Robert. Nothing will ever be the same. And I have to come to terms with that. I love you and I will love you forever—but life goes on down here on earth. I don’t know what you’re doing right now, or where you are, but I do know it must be something good. Because you are a good man.”

I slipped the card in my pocket before it could blow away and wrangled with my torn emotions.

“Baby, I will come back next week with Zach on the anniversary of your passing. But I had to come today to tell you about a decision I’ve made, and see if I can feel any peace here, from you, that will let me know that you’re okay with it too.”

Again I paused, sniffling and wiping my eyes. “I’m not ready to marry again. I’m not even ready to date yet. But Lonny asked me out last night. I told him no, but Grandma told me I needed to get on with my life.” I smiled. “You know how nosy and bossy she can be.”

The wind pelted me with icy air and I pulled the blanket more tightly about me. Though the snow from last month’s monster snowstorm had pretty much melted, the intermittent wind blasts cut clear through me.

“I’ve begun to realize that Grandma’s right. I have to get on with my life. I keep wishing you were here, but you’re not. So I just want to let you know that the next time Lonny asks, I’m going to say yes. And if David—you don’t know him; he’s a new guy in town who seems nice—if David asks me out, I’m going to say yes to him, too.”

I paused, blinking back tears, but not feeling as devastated as I feared I might. “I love you, Robert. I always will. So this isn’t goodbye, but just
sayonara
, like you always used to say.”

Emotionally spent, I stopped talking. After several long moments, I felt an undeniable peace stealing over me, enfolding me. It was as though Robert were letting me know he was okay with my decision. Almost as if his arms were wrapped around my shoulders. As if he were reassuring me that I could go on now.

“Thank you,” I whispered as a couple of fat tears slid down my cheeks. I instantly recognized Robert’s calming presence as I always could. It was the same sense of serenity I’d always gotten whenever I was around him, even now.

“Thank you,” I whispered again, and the peaceful rays of warmth from him dried my tears.

I stayed by the grave until the cold tried to settle deeply into my bones. Finally, standing up, I brushed off the dirt and brittle leaves, picked up the lap blanket, and shook it out.

With one last glance at Robert’s stone again, I nodded. “
Sayonara
, my darling.”

I drew in another deep breath. I didn’t know where “moving on” would take me, only that it would take me away from Robert—temporarily. But I believed he was waiting for me on the other side, and I felt such peace, I knew I’d made the right decision.

Turning away, I walked back to the path and toward the gate, in no hurry now.

It truly was time to start my life over again. And to prove it, I planned to stop at the Moose Muffin Café and buy myself a piece of pie. That’s where I went on my first date with Robert and we shared a piece of cherry pie á la mode. Walking through the café door, I would be symbolically moving on to whatever life had in store for me. I wasn’t going to hide from life any longer.

I could envision it but it scared me. However, I was blessed with a lot of family who could help me through.

After closing the cemetery gate behind me, I turned back and blew a kiss toward Robert’s grave. Once more, I said, “
Sayonara
, Robert. Until we meet again.” I smiled. “And next week, I’ll bring Zach.”

Thinking of Zach, I gasped as I looked at my watch. I didn’t have time for pie or symbolic anythings. I had lingered here much longer than I realized. I was barely going to make it to Grandma’s in time for her to still have lunch with her friends.

~ ~ ~

Back at the Inn, I offered to settle Zach down to watch his favorite dog movie,
101 Dalmatians
, but he wanted to finish some homework in the kitchen, and how could I discourage that? Grandma decided she’d rather visit with us than “some old ladies” and followed Zach. She’d probably be his biggest distraction.

I headed down to the “dungeon,” as Liz liked to call our very nice family quarters in the basement, and found her lying on her bed.

I had done some major fixing up in the basement, both in decorating and remodeling. I had one wall removed to add one bedroom to the great room. There were still four bedrooms—mine, Zach’s and two guest rooms, one of which Liz was occupying for a few months until she got her divorce. We each had our own baths and large closets, and we could hang out in the spacious great room, which was the size of the law library and exercise room combined. With a kitchenette in one corner, a TV and couch in another, along with a game table, and lots of storage, it was certainly the nicest dungeon I’d ever seen…well, heard of anyway; I’d never actually seen one.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked, looking at my sister. “You still look pale.”

Lying on her bed, Liz sighed and stretched. “I’m just trying out the new goth look. Let’s buy matching black clothes. Maybe even some black nail polish.”

“Oh, yeah, that will look really good with our red hair. We’ll look like the undead.”

“Which is very popular right now.” Liz smiled. “Don’t worry. I was just bitten by a vampire. My skin is cold, too.”

I studied her. “But not sparkly.”

“No, not sparkly. Half the people in Silver City have some sort of virus. I probably just caught a low-level strain of it.”

“That’s true enough.”

She sat up. “There could be some stress involved, too, but I’ll be fine as soon as the divorce is final. In fact, I’m going to throw a huge party to celebrate!”

“Vicki!” Grandma called out from the other room in the basement, startling my heart right out of my chest. “Where are you?”

“In here,” I replied, as Liz and I smiled.

“What a sneaky grandmother we have.” Liz rolled her eyes and slipped her feet into her sneakers, tying them.

“There you are. Hello, Elizabeth.” Grandma stuck her head in Liz’s bedroom door. “Victoria, did you know that nice, young David is in the kitchen?”

“No, I didn’t.” Normally, that might have perked me up, but I was still emotionally drained from my visit to the cemetery, not to mention Grandma scaring the crap out of me a moment ago. “What’s up, Grandma?” I asked suspiciously.

“Now why should anything be up? I’m going to fix some of my special tonic for you, Liz. You just lie back down now and let my tonic perk you right up.”

Liz groaned. “Not your tonic, Grandma. I’ll be out for days.”

“Oh, shush, child. You’re obviously not well. My tonic will fix you right up.”

“Where do you plan to find enough alcohol to make your deadly, little medicinal concoction?” I asked.

“Oh, I have my sources,” Grandma said.

I snorted. “Probably from David.”

“He’s awfully cute. If you’re not interested, maybe I’ll go after him.”

“He’s more than half a century younger than you are, Grandma.”

“I’m feeling
really
sick now.” Liz flopped back on the bed and groaned. “Act your age.”

Grandma sat on the bed and caressed a lock of hair from Liz’s cheek. “I’m going to act Cher’s age instead. David would make a very cute boy toy.”

“Oh, gross,” I said, though I agreed. He would. But not for my grandmother!

Her grin told me she was teasing.
Thank goodness for that!
Otherwise, I might think she’d truly lost some of her mental faculties.

Grandma motioned me toward the door. “He has a question for you.”

“Zach?”

“David. They’re both in the kitchen, cooking up a secret.”

David was, indeed, in the kitchen. Since he was older than I, he couldn’t possibly be
my
boy toy, either. Lonny could. But, as I pointed out to my grandmother last month, Mormons didn’t have boy toys.

David was strikingly handsome, and made even cuter by standing at the stove, wearing shorts and a pale blue polo shirt, partially covered by an apron with the words
Kiss the Cook
emblazoned across his manly chest. He was helping Zach stir something in a pot.

Zach was standing on a chair they’d pulled over, and David’s hand protectively hovered in the air behind Zach, thereby endearing him to me even more.

My son looked over at me and grinned. “Hey, Mom. Guess what we’re making?”