Penny Serenade (14 page)

“Will you be requiring anything else, miss?” He asked
,
his left brow arched impossibly high. Add a top hat and monocle and he’d pass for Professor Plum from the game Clue.

She cast her glance at the plate covered with a silver dome and the shiny silver teapot. “No, this is great. Thank you.”

“Very well, please enjoy. Call if you need anything further.”

From her purse she handed him a ten dollar bill and nodded. “I will.”

Audrey closed the door behind him and rubbed her hands together. She poured herself a cup of peppermint tea and removed the silver lid from the plate. Steam rose from the delicious looking food, and her mouth salivated. She didn’t expect she’d be so hungry, but the food went down easy. She was tempted to order a stack of hotcakes, but thought better of it. Instead she slathered extra grape jelly on her toast and moaned in appreciation. Sometimes the simple things were all she needed.

Tummy full and satisfied, she jumped into a warm shower and washed away the smell of airplanes and starched sheets.

She decided against make up altogether and dressed in jeans with a mid-sleeve white shirt, and slipped on a short-sleeved fleece vest. Many things might’ve changed about her hometown, but she was certain the early morning breeze hadn’t, or how it chilled the bones.

Ready to go she packed up her luggage and went to the lobby to check out. She had the desk attendant call for the car rental and waited in the front until a cute little blue
Sedan
pulled up. Seeing the sunroof lit her up inside. She’d wanted a sunroof in her own car, but couldn’t afford the add-on price. Thinking of something as trivial as a window piquing her excitement, she was reminded of Dominic and the idea of a window in the shop. A cute little curio type window would be just the thing. It would keep the cozy ambiance and let in just the right amount of natural light. Audrey’s fists tightened at her sides. How was it that Dominic kept sneaking into her thoughts?
Get out of my head
, she hissed to herself, smiling briefly at the car rental attendant who had given her a strange look.

Two pages of paperwork and ten minutes later she had keys in hand and was on the road headed toward the Islesboro Ferry Terminal.

Audrey made it by the seven-thirty departure
time
, with a few minutes to spare. She drove along the metal ramp and down to the parking area. Five other cars joined her, along with one truck that pulled a small motorboat.

Purse in hand, she climbed the steps up to the top of the ferry and went straight outside into the frigid air to the front end. Beneath the gray skies the bay looked ominous. She was crazy to be going back, but too late to change her mind. Somehow she’d find a way to make the best of it. At least her aunt would be thrilled. Maybe some of that thrill would latch onto her.

The horn blared and with a swift jerk, the ferry started up. Audrey wrapped her arms about her as the wind picked up and whipped through her hair. Flags attached to the flagpole at the helm of the boat also whipped about, making sharp snapping sounds. She pulled a hair band from her pocket and arranged her hair back and out of her face. She’d deal with the nasty tangles later.

Squinting through the fog, she watched
Acre
island draw closer. With a loud gulp she swallowed down her anxiety. She’d made this trip plenty of times as a child, though the circumstances had been very different. Her father would hike her up over his head and place her on his shoulders. Together they’d countdown the twenty minutes it took to cross the bay. When it came to her father, he made everything fun. In many ways he acted like a kid himself. Though wrinkles and lines etched his face through the years, he’d always had a youthful spirit about him.

The last trip on the ferry had been grueling, accompanied by plenty of tears and anger. Tears for leaving the place she’d called home, a place she’d always counted on to feel safe. And anger toward her father for taking that comfort away from her. She knew it had been selfish at the time, but she didn’t know how else to feel. The anger served to stave off the grieving, which had been a mistake. She regretted being mad at him, but she’d pled with him to not go out in the storm. Somehow the water always won out over her. She never could compete.

The sound of water rushing along the ferry drowned out the voice inside warning her to turn back and return to
Oregon
. Either she was being brave or being stupid, or a little of both.

Ears and face cold from the wind, she decided to head inside the ferry. She ordered hot cocoa and an almond butter muffin from the tiny cafeteria, surprised to be hungry again so soon. The warm liquid warmed her insides, but the muffin tasted too dry for her liking. Audrey looked forward to her aunt’s home cooking, and hoped to talk her into some of her to die for clam chowder.

An announcement came over the loudspeaker that they’d be docking in five minutes, startling her enough that just about spilled her cocoa.
Nervous much?
Shaken, she went down below and waited inside her car. Audrey gripped the steering wheel, roves of panic racing through her. The wait had her stomach clenched tight, as if she were on a rollercoaster before the big drop.

When the ferry stopped and lowered the ramp, she started up the engine and drove out. She knew her way from there, in fact she could get there with her eyes closed she still remembered it so well. A small group of young children were out playing hopscotch on the sidewalk while their parents hunkered around the blue tents to purchase fresh cod and clams. She caught a whiff of fish and a whole new batch of memories assaulted her.

Audrey turned at the third dirt road she came to and pulled up to her aunt’s house. The two-story wood paneled house looked the same, though the chestnut brown paint looked like it had been given a fresh coat. In front of the briar bush she noted the for sale sign. She had no idea her aunt had plans to sell. Guilt washed over her. What if the money her aunt had given her was the last of her savings and she couldn’t afford to live there anymore? She hoped that wasn’t the case. It would be awful to know her store was a success while her aunt could barely make ends meet. If Colleen didn’t bring up the sale sign, then she would, but not right away.

Other than that it was the same old house, with the same old shingles on the roof. Her beloved tire swing still hung from the large oak tree in front, the rope faded, worn and frayed. The remnants of the door she’d painted in red at the base of the tree remained. A door she’d made for the squirrels. Her father planned to cut the door out for her, but never got around to it. She’d worried that the smaller squirrels couldn’t get up into the tree to hide their acorns when it rained, so she thought a door would help. Such silly thoughts as a child, but her father never made her feel bad or funny about them. He’d always encouraged her imagination.

Audrey didn’t know how long she’d been sitting in the car, but when she looked up her aunt was waving to her from the front door. Her once long blonde locks had turned to startling silver and hung an inch above her shoulders in a smart side part. She looked thinner, but her green eyes were wide and vibrant as ever.

“You can do this,” she mumbled to herself, and poured her jetlagged body out of the car. Hand up, she waved back.
“Hi Colleen.”

Her aunt pulled her sweater tight across her body. “Hurry and get yourself in here, child. I’ve got a kettle of tea on.”

Child?
“Sounds great, be right there.”

Audrey glanced to the trunk and decided to leave her things for now. She could always grab them later. Feeling the cold breeze go right through her clothing, she hustled toward her aunt and straight into her waiting arms. The lemon verbena smell she loved as a child infused the air around them. Okay, being back wasn’t so bad.

“How was the trip here? Did you have a good flight?”

“Not bad,” she replied and slipped her feet out from her sneakers. “Much as I hate flying, I survived.
Only a little turbulence.”

Her aunt shuddered. “I haven’t flown since I was ten years old. Don’t think I ever will. What about the ferry? Was it as fun as you remember?”

“It was…different. Felt longer than twenty minutes.”

“I thought that too last time I rode it. Well, I’m thrilled you’re here. I’ve missed you.”

“Same here,” she replied.

Audrey wanted to ask about the reason for selling the house, but would wait until they’d had tea first. She followed her aunt past the stairwell with its whitewashed mirror and coat rack into the kitchen. Talk about a time warp. The décor in the tiny kitchen hadn’t changed a bit. Stark white wallpaper with tiny scarlet hearts lined up in a row covered three walls, while one had solid pink paper over it. A charcoal black antique-looking stove and oven sat catty-corner, and a white wooden table and chairs with pink hearts on the seat cushions furnished the breakfast nook area. Colleen’s kitchen had to be half the size of her own, and here she’d thought it on the small side. The Home and Garden Network would have a hay day with remodeling this place.

For not having much counter space to work with, her aunt always managed to whip up quite a feast, especially around the holidays. Her gaze drifted across the linoleum floor, slightly yellowed by sunlight and the years. A pink terry rug sat in front of the sink with matching dish towels hanging by the window. She took a breath in and caught the most scrumptious aroma. Her gaze followed to the large black pot sitting on the stove.
The thrum of excitement starting low in her belly.

Audrey turned to her aunt, eyes wide. “Are you making clam chowder?”

“Yes. I wanted to make something special for my special girl. It should be ready around noon.”

Ignoring the instinct to squeal, she leaned in and hugged the petite woman tight. “Oh my god, you’re the best. I have dreamed about your clam chowder.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“You’ve no idea,” Audrey retorted. “Your clam chowder is better than Christmas.”

Her aunt chuckled. “Have a seat, let me pour your tea.
Cream or sugar?”

“Sugar is good, thanks.”

Her aunt handed her a pink and white checkered mug.

“Bet the memories are hitting you hard, hey?”

Mug clutched in both hands, she took a sip.
“Very much.
I forgot how peaceful it can be here in the morning.”

“Yeah, it’s one of the biggest reasons I could never think to leave here.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh good, so you’re not leaving.”

“No.” Her aunt’s brows furrowed and then arced. “Ah, you noticed the for sale sign. I’m moving, but not far. I’ll be living in a senior care facility in Lincolnville. I’m getting too old to take care of this place. Plus, it’s always been too big of a space.
Especially after you left.”

It was then that Audrey noticed the fine lines and wrinkles around her aunt’s face. She’d never really appreciated the fact she’d taken her in after her father died. It had been her brother and she didn’t have much time to grieve while looking after the sullen and moody girl she’d turned into. “Colleen, I—”

Her aunt’s eyes flashed a hard look. “Hush now. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.
Just stating a simple fact.
When you were here, you filled the house up with your spirit. Even during the hard times you brought me a lot of joy. It hasn’t been the same, and I need to move on.
Time to give these poor bones a break and let someone else take care of me.”

“I understand.”

“At first I thought about offering the house to you, but you’ve been away so long. I thought you wouldn’t want anything to do with Islesboro. If I’m wrong, let me know and we can figure something out. It’s part of your life too.”

If she could even think about closing up her shop, she’d consider it.
But why?
She came here for closure, not to start fresh. She’d started over once and didn’t want anything more to do with this place.

“I don’t think Islesboro is part of my future, only my past,” she explained. “I admit that I was surprised at first when I saw the sign, but it makes sense to me. Moving on is part of the process.
For both of us.”

“You’ve grown into a wise woman.”

Audrey snorted. “I’m not sure about the wise part, but I’m doing my best. I’ve figured out that things don’t come easy for me, and I’m okay with doing the work to get there.”

She watched her aunt drop two cubes of sugar into her tea and stir. “Speaking of work, how’s the shop business going?”

“Surprisingly well,” she answered, sitting up straighter. “This is the first time I’ve been away, can you believe it? I think I’ve been working too much.”