River's Song - The Inn at Shining Waters Series (22 page)

"Sounds like your mother-in-law is digging in her heels."

She shrugged, kicking a scrap piece of cedar into the pile.

"No surprises there."

"That's true. But Joe said that he hoped you weren't counting on getting the remainder of your money too soon."

Anna pressed her lips together and just nodded. She'd warned herself this might happen, that it probably
would
happen. She'd told herself not to be a fool and not to expect any more money from Adam's estate. But she realized now that she'd still been holding out some hope, secretly wishing there'd be enough to get her through the first year—just in case her expectation of filling the inn with paying guests went unfulfilled.

"Joe said it could take six months, maybe up to a year, Anna, or longer even, just to get everything all sorted out."

Anna sighed. "I'd been afraid of that." She remembered how stunned she'd been at the size of the check Mr. Miller had given her. And yet it was disappearing quickly. Much faster than she'd imagined possible. After she paid Clark what she owed him, her bank account would be fairly well thinned out. Still, she reminded herself, it was more than she'd had a few months ago.

"It seems your mother-in-law tied up your funds quite neatly. Not only in her lumber mill, but in a number of other investments and annuities as well. Joe thinks that even in the best-case scenario, meaning if a judge comes down on Eunice, she'll simply claim she invested the money for your benefit. But at the moment she's still insisting that every penny from Adam's estate has been spent on Lauren and you, and she claims she can prove it. She also says that you granted her power of attorney long ago." He paused. "Do you recall doing anything like that?"

Anna tried to think. "Does that mean I signed something? A legal form?"

"Usually that's how it's done. Do you remember signing a document like that?"

Anna held up her hands in a helpless way. "I honestly don't know. As I've said, Eunice took care of all the finances and business. Sometimes she would have me sign something. Oh, she'd usually have some complicated-sounding explanation, which I never questioned. And early on, despite our differences, I trusted her about these things. I had no reason not to. The truth was, I needed her to handle those things. Especially when Lauren was small and Adam's illness was so demanding and I felt overwhelmed with everything. Not just caring for Adam and Lauren, but all the cooking and cleaning—well, it was all I could do to keep my head above water."

"I think we can get the judge to take that into account—in case you did sign something authorizing Eunice to handle your finances. We can explain how you were unaware as to what you were signing—and that you trusted your motherin-law was looking out for your best interests. It's a natural assumption."

"Meaning this will go to court then?"

"It's probably the only way we'll recover what's yours, Anna."

"Oh, dear." She picked up a stick and threw it to the top of the debris.

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news."

She forced a smile. "It's not your fault, Clark. I just appreciate how helpful you've been in unraveling this mess." She wanted to add that she would understand his need to bow out of the legal business after he finished up the work here. She couldn't expect him to continue offering her legal advice after the four cabins were completed in November, but she couldn't manage to say those words just yet. The idea of him permanently leaving, returning to his old life, made her sad. She turned from the burn pile and, saying she needed to start dinner, began walking toward the house. Clark went with her.

"Anyway," he continued, "I wanted you to know that we can set up a payment plan for my construction bill—it doesn't even need to start until after you're on your feet with guests and everything, I'd be perfectly happy to wait until a year from now to—"

"No!" She stopped walking and firmly shook her head." Absolutely not. I wouldn't dream of it. You've already given me a more than generous deal on your fine work. And when I think of all the wonderful improvements you and Marshall have done"—she waved her hand toward the charming cabinlike bathhouse—"I can hardly believe it. No, Clark, I plan to pay you this week for what you've done, as well as for the additional four cabins. I plan to pay you
in full.
I've budgeted for this already."

He nodded, then looked down at his feet as if feeling uneasy.

"And hopefully the guests will come as expected, and I'll make good money, and I'll be ready for you to build even more cabins next spring." She tried to exude confidence. "In fact, one year from now I expect my inn to be fully booked."

"I wouldn't be a bit surprised."

"I've already worked out the budget for that too," she told him as they came to the house. "And I really believe it's doable."

"Is that your telephone I hear ringing?" he asked as they stopped.

"Yes. Excuse me." She dashed up the steps and into the house, breathlessly answering the phone.
"Hello?"

"Mom?"

"Yes." She paused to catch her breath. "Lauren, darling, how
are
you?"

"Not so great." Lauren's voice sounded strange.

"Are you sick?"

"No . . . it's not like that."

"What then, darling?"

"I won't be able to come visit you."

"Why not?"Anna's heart sank as she sat down on the kitchen stool.

"It's just not going to work out." Lauren's tone grew sharp now. "You never should've expected that it would."

"Why?"

"Because what you're doing is wrong, Mom. Just plain wrong!"

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Taking money from Grandmother like you're doing—and after all she's done for us. I can't believe you'd do that to her, Mom!"

"Lauren Marion Gunderson, what in the world are you talking about?"

"
You,
Mom. I'm talking about you! Grandmother says you're suing her for everything—that you want to take away her house and the cars and that I won't be able to go to college and—and—
oh,
Mom!" Lauren burst into sobs.

"Lauren, that is
not
true. I swear to you that's not how it—"

"Grandmother told me you'd deny everything. But don't bother trying to fool me. I heard Grandmother talking to the lawyer and I know what's going on. I just never thought my own mother could do something so low." She choked back another sob. "Anyway, I can't come see you now.
Not ever!"
She hung up with a loud bang.

Anna just sat there with the dial tone buzzing dully in her ear. What was going on in Pine Ridge? She called back, hoping to get some explanation and the chance to defend herself, but this time Eunice answered. "What do you want?" she demanded angrily.

"To speak to my daughter, please."

"What daughter?"

"My daughter
Lauren,"A
nna declared. "Please, let me talk to her now."

"You have no daughter. You have turned against us. You are a stranger to—"

"Eunice!"

"Do not call this telephone number again,
do you hear me?
And if you do call here, if you continue to harass us, I shall have my attorney file a restraining order and then you will be arrested and put in jail where you probably belong. You are not to be in contact with us—not me and not Lauren. You are dead to us now. Do you understand?"

"But I just want to speak to—"Again she was cut off. With shaking hands, she replaced the receiver and tried to understand what was happening, tried to make sense of what seemed to be utter nonsense.

Anna tried to conceal her heartbreak during dinner. She planned to let her friends know about her disappointment— later—because she knew that if she opened the dam right now all her emotions would come raging out and ruin the meal for everyone. And so she was quiet.

"This has been a great couple a weeks," Marshall said as he helped himself to another piece of chicken. "I feel kinda silly for the way I was acting about coming out here before." He laughed. "Like I was being sent to prison—but the truth is this place is like paradise."

"Even though I worked you so hard?" Clark spread butter on a biscuit.

"I don't mind working hard." Marshall sat up straighter." Not when I'm getting paid."

"And the benefits aren't bad." Clark grinned at Anna." Besides the great food, you've got canoes and fishing and the great outdoors."

"I just hope I get to come back and help with the other cabins—maybe you can plan to build them during spring break, Dad. Then I could come with you."

"We'll see what we can do." Clark glanced at Anna again.

"Maybe if I'm not ready for the cabins in the spring, you can come back to help with them in the summer," she told Marshall." Or just to visit." She smiled. "You know you're welcome here anytime—and I mean as my guest, not as a customer."

"That'd be swell."

"I can hardly believe that I'm nearly done with my thesis," Hazel told them. "All I need to do now is some editing and I've decided that I can do that at home."

"So when are you leaving, Grandma?"

"Maybe with you and Clark on Sunday." She smiled at Anna. "I'm sure you won't mind having a few less mouths to feed while your daughter and friends are here."

Anna set her fork down on the plate of barely touched food." I'm sorry," she said quietly. "Will you please excuse me?" Then she stood and hurried to her room, closing the door behind her. She sat down on the bed, wringing her hands as tears silently slipped down her cheeks. She wished she'd gone outside instead of getting stuck in her room, which suddenly felt claustrophobic. She considered going out again, bolting for the door, but she did not want her friends to see her like this. She felt powerless and miserable, and totally incapable of running this inn. Really, what had made her think she had the strength to do such a thing? She thought she was strong, but in reality, she was weak. Very weak.

Anna remembered something her grandmother used to say." When I am weak, I am strong." The first time Anna heard it she'd been confused, asking what it meant. Grandma Pearl said the words were from God's Book. "It means when I run out, when I am empty and weak, God can fill me. I must be empty first."

As she cried alone in her little room, Anna felt as if she was being emptied. And yet the tears continued to flow—as if there were a deep well inside of her, full of sadness and loss and disappointment—and it was all pouring out tonight. After a while she fell asleep. Upon waking she realized it was dark out. The house was quiet. Her guests must've gone to bed.

Feeling like a very bad hostess, she crept out of her room and turned on the light. To her surprise, all the dinner things were cleared up. She wondered what they must've thought of her—perhaps they were glad to know they'd all be going home on Sunday. Or perhaps they'd decided to go home Saturday. Really, there was nothing to keep them here any longer.

These thoughts only brought more sadness and once more the tears began to flow. She thought about her grandmother's words again. Anna had no doubts she was being emptied, but she wondered what it took to get filled back up, like Grandma had said, with God.

"Ask and the Creator gives," Grandma used to say. Sometimes she'd say this in reference to good weather or catching a big fish or finding a bountiful spot to gather blackberries or pickleweed. But tonight Anna decided to take this to heart. She would ask the Creator to give her what she needed—and she would ask him now. And so she prayed for strength. "Give me your strength," she prayed. "I feel I've run out of my own. I am empty. Please, fill me up." It was a very simple prayer— but from the heart—and when she finished, she felt her sense of peace returning to her. And she felt energized.

She decided to go into the kitchen and get things set up for breakfast in the morning. Sometimes she did this at night. Then she decided to set the table and—thinking that her guests, frightened off by tonight's behavior, might be considering an early departure—use the good china. After the table was set, she noticed the tiny crystal vase that her mother loved to fill with violets in the springtime. Her mother loved violets—everything about them, their velvety petals, the rich color of purple, but most of all the smell. And that reminded Anna of one of her mother's favorite sayings.

"Forgiveness is the sweet fragrance of violets on the heel that crushed them," Mother would sometimes say with a twinkle in her eye as she arranged the delicate blooms in the tiny vase. But Anna had never quite understood the meaning of this saying. Her thinking was that no one should go around trampling on violets, especially not on purpose, and certainly not in order to walk around with sweet-smelling shoes. That was wasteful and wrong.

But she considered it now.
Forgiveness . . . like the smell of crushed violets . . . on the feet that trampled over them.
She felt that Eunice had trampled over her—many a time—and especially so today. Did that mean Anna needed to release something that smelled as sweet as violets to Eunice? Never mind that Eunice didn't deserve such a gift. But how was that even possible? Was Anna supposed to send Eunice some perfume?

Anna set the vase in the center of the table and just stared at its sparkling cut surface as it reflected the light. Just like that, Anna understood perfectly. She needed to forgive Eunice— whether or not Eunice deserved it. And Anna realized that when she forgave Eunice, it would be like releasing the sweet smell of violets on the heel that had crushed her. Simple enough . . . just not easy. Once again, she prayed, asking for God's help—and believing that he could show her how to forgive someone who had walked all over her.

Anna awoke feeling refreshed and at peace the next morning. She was still sad that Lauren wouldn't be coming to visit, but she felt hopeful that someday—maybe not too far in the future—Lauren would come. With breakfast preparations already in process, Anna slipped outside and went around to the shady corner where Mother's little patch of violets used to grow. Slightly overgrown with grass and weeds, Anna pushed back the weeds to see that there were still some violets growing there. She picked a tiny bouquet, then went back into the house to put it in the tiny vase.

She was just stirring huckleberries into the pancake batter when she heard someone come in. "Good morning," she called out cheerfully.

"Good morning," Clark said gently. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Quite well." She smiled brightly.

"Oh, that's good to know. I was worried that you'd taken Joe Miller's news a lot harder than I'd expected you would."

She waved her hand. "No, no. I wasn't upset over that. Well, perhaps a tiny bit, but no, that's not what was troubling me last night." Now she confided to him about her disturbing conversation with Lauren. "It was hard enough to hear she's not coming today. But to find out that she thinks I'm robbing Eunice of everything . . . well, that was difficult."

"It sounds as if Eunice is poisoning your daughter's mind."

"Perhaps I should send Eunice a legal letter, warning her that she needs—"

Anna pressed her lips together, wondering how she could make him understand.

"No,"Anna said quickly. "Please, don't do that." Now she walked over to where the vase of violets was in the center of the dining room table and she explained to him about her mother's saying.

"I think I've heard that before." Still he looked a bit bewildered.

"So I have decided to forgive Eunice," she said as she walked back to the kitchen. "Even though Eunice doesn't deserve to be forgiven, just like the heel doesn't deserve to smell sweet, I will give it to her." She stopped at the big new stove, turning on the flame without having to strike a match.

"Wise?" She tipped her head to one side.

Clark nodded with a thoughtful expression. "I respect that. In fact, I think it's not only very mature of you, but it's very wise as well."

"I've learned from experience that when you withhold forgiveness from someone it puts you into a kind of bondage with them. It's like they own a piece of your soul if you remain bitter." He sighed. "I did that with Roselyn for a number of years before I figured it out."

"So you've forgiven her?"

He grinned. "The truth is it's kind of a process with me. I find I have to forgive her again and again. But hopefully, in time, I'll get beyond it altogether."

Anna smiled. "I think it might be like that for me with Eunice too."

"Well at least you've put the wheels into motion, Anna."

"There's something more too," she admitted as she dropped a pat of butter onto the cast-iron frying pan.

"What's that?"

"I've decided not to pursue any more money from Adam's estate."

Clark looked concerned. "But you've got it coming to you, Anna."

"That doesn't matter." She watched the butter melting.

"But what if you need it?"

"It wouldn't be worth it."

"But it might be quite a large sum of money."

"I don't care." She turned off the flame and folded her arms. It was a stance she used to take as a child when she wanted to be stubborn.

"But what if—"

"There are no what-ifs," she told him. "If I fight Eunice for that money, I will end up being the one who is robbed. It will steal my peace and it will destroy the joy of creating this inn and it will even take my daughter from me." She shook her head. "No, I've made up my mind, Clark. Even if it was a million dollars, it's not worth it."

He just nodded. "I understand."

"Thank you." She turned back to the stove.

"Would you mind letting him know?"

"Do you plan to communicate that with Joe? Or would you like me to?"

He chuckled. "Not at all. In fact, it'll be interesting to hear the old boy's response."

Now Hazel and Marshall were coming into the house. Anna called out "Good morning" to them, apologized for being out of sorts last night, and quickly explained what had been bothering her.

"Oh, dear!" Hazel frowned. "I know how much you'd been looking forward to having your daughter visit. I'm just so sorry, Anna. I realize how important it is to have family around." She put an arm around Marshall and squeezed him to her. "I've so enjoyed this time with mine so much—thanks to your generous hospitality."

"Maybe we can be like Anna's family today," Marshall offered.

"That's right," Clark said. "Think of us as your family, Anna. You've been putting up with us, making us feel at home—isn't that what family is all about?"

"I say we should officially adopt her," Hazel proclaimed. "In fact, I think I already did. I swear it feels like Pearl is related to me now. After living in her little house, reading her stories, experiencing her river—why, it's as if old Pearl is my ancestor too."

Anna laughed as she flipped the pancakes. "I would be honored to be related to all of you. And I'll gladly take you up on the offer."

As they sat down to breakfast, Anna mentioned her concerns that she might've scared them all away last night. "Hopefully, no one will be leaving here earlier than Sunday."

"Not me," Marshall assured her. "Now that our work's done, I want to do some more fishing today and, if it's OK, I'll take the motorboat out."

"That's fine," she told him.

"And I'm not ready to go yet," Clark added.

"I'm not going until the boys are ready," Hazel said.

"I want to catch a really big salmon," Clark told her. "I want something to brag about when I see Tom and Randy back at home."

"That's great." Anna felt relieved. "I want to light that bonfire tonight, just like I'd planned to do for the girls and, well, I was hoping you'd all still be around to enjoy it with me."

"What a delightful idea!" Hazel clapped her hands. "A way to celebrate our time together—and to bond our friendship."

Anna knew it wouldn't be quite the same without Lauren here. But, all things considered, it might be even better. Sometimes Lauren could be rude and demanding and rather spoiled. Perhaps Anna wasn't missing out on so much after all.