Whistlin' Dixie in a Nor'easter (22 page)

“Pee-you, what’s that smell?” Alice put Sarah down and marched over to the window to raise it.

I just shook my head. “Don’t y’all remember anything I’ve told you about this place?”

“Oh yeah, now I remember. The houseitosis. We’ll run up and get some potpourri in a little while.”

“Forget it. I’ve already tried that. Helga poured it out. She said it made the inn smell like a flower shop.”

“And what’s wrong with that? It sure beats the BO.”

“Tell me about it.
Shoot.
If I had known y’all were coming I’d have had you bring me some things from home.”

“Speaking of that. Look what Mama sent you.” Virginia dug into a big flowery tote bag and pulled out a box of Dinstuhl’s white chocolate chunks. “I told her about you having to give that woman your Christmas present and how she didn’t even offer to share. Mama went straight out and bought you another box.”

“I’ll have to write her a note, but in the meantime, please tell her thank you. I’ve been craving Dinstuhl’s chocolates for five months.” I opened up the box, crammed a piece in my mouth, and passed the rest around—like Jeb’s mother should have.

“I noticed the side garden when we parked our car,” Mary Jule said. “I can tell it’s gonna be really pretty when it blooms. I’ll help you with the pruning if you want.”

“Don’t bother. Unless you want your lymph nodes swollen and blood dripping down your neck, just stay inside. That reminds me, y’all have to bundle up your whole body when you go outside and wear Skin So Soft–soaked bandannas around your neck.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, horrified and rightfully so.

“I haven’t told y’all this yet but they have vampire bugs here that draw blood. Can you believe the lies these people tell you about living here? There have been heaps of strange things about Vermont that no one ever bothered telling me.”

“Yankees,” Alice said, and sat back down at the table again.

“There’s a magazine here called
Vermont Life
and I’m starting to think
it’s my duty to take out an ad and list all of the things they don’t want people to know, and prevent anybody else from making the same mistake I made.”

“You could warn people about the gossipy gas station owner.” Virginia laughed out loud. “John doesn’t believe it.”

“Is that a joke or what?” I said.

“Sorry to change the subject, but I just thought of this,” Alice said. “Y’all don’t let me forget about the moose souvenirs for the children. They’ll kill me if I come home empty-handed. Plus, I’m dying to see one. I’ve still got the picture of you hugging that sign in full view on my fridge.”

“That’s the one thing I’ve looked forward to since I moved here. And to date, not only have
I
not seen a moose, but no one else has, either. For the first four months of living here, I never took my eyes off the side of the road. Now I don’t bother. It’s probably just another New England tall tale.”

“Where’s that Computer World place and the pink car?” Mary Jule asked. “Al wants me to take pictures; he doesn’t believe
that
exists.”

“Neither does John,” Virginia added.

“I’m surprised y’all didn’t see it when you walked in. Look out the window, you can’t miss it.” I pointed toward the front to show the girls where to look.

All three tried beating one another to the window to get their first glimpse.

“I don’t believe it. That little hut is really
it
? Where’s my camera?” Virginia said.

“I told you it’s the kind of thing you have to see to believe.”

“Can we go inside? Do you think he’d let us take pictures?” Alice had a shrill to her voice.

“I’m sure Jeb would absolutely love to take y’all on a tour.”

“Right now?” Virginia asked.

“No, not right now,” I told her. “Anyway, his car’s gone, he must not be home.”

“Why are we still in this room? I wanna see the rest of the place,” said Mary Jule. “It’s beautiful from the outside, Leelee. I’m dying to look around.”

Gracie must have heard all the commotion because she came running through the door. God knows where she’d been. After two months of having free rein of the place, Gracie had no qualms about venturing anywhere in the inn she pleased. The mud kept her away from the outdoors so we were still in need of newspapers. Mary Jule loves Gracie (Alice and Virginia do not) so she picked her up and held her the whole time we toured the inn.

We explored the upstairs first and I showed Mary Jule and Alice which room they would be sleeping in. I asked Virginia to stay with me in my room. God knows I could use the company. They lingered in every guest room, giving each the once-over and doing their best not to make a negative comment. “I know, I know,” I’d say whenever an eyebrow was raised. “I never said it wasn’t tacky. But can’t you see the potential?”

I even showed them the basement. Besides the massive amount of clutter down there, the girls were also intrigued by the wine cellar and the vast amount of wine. They promised to get to know that part of the inn better before the end of their visit, and I had no doubt they would.

When we finally made it to the superb owners’ quarters, the unveiling didn’t have quite the impact that it had had on me. After all, it was painted and new carpet replaced the old indoor-outdoor covering. Most of the stink was even gone. Our furniture from home made it look more familiar. But once they saw my bedroom, they couldn’t hold back.

“Oh, Leelee.
Honey.
This is
pitiful
,” Alice said, placing her hands on either side of her cheeks. “I knew you said it was small, but seeing it in person is
tragic
.”

Mary Jule shook her head like she was in too much pain to speak. Virginia hopped up on Great-grandmother’s bed, making herself comfortable, and announced, “I’m amazed you’ve made it this long.” Seeing how there was nowhere else
but
the bed to sit, or stand for that matter, we all ended up lounging on top of it—and each other—to discuss.

“All I can say is, I can’t wait to finally meet the Sergeant.” Alice made little quote marks when she said “the Sergeant,” and propped up a pillow behind her head.

“I can. I’m scared of her, just like Leelee,” said Mary Jule, resting against a throw pillow on the footboard.

“Why are you scared of her, Mary Jule?” asked Virginia. “She can’t hurt us. She needs to get the hell out of here anyway. Fiery, we’ve been talking and we think you need a new name for the inn. Paint the place peach and call it the Peach Tree Inn, or the Peach Blossom Inn.” I could tell by the shrill in her voice how excited she was.

The idea sounded delicious to me, too, but I wasn’t so sure I was up for it. “Peach
is
my favorite color . . . oh, I’d love to but I can’t. Baker said we have to keep everything just as it is for a year. Besides, I’ll be home soon anyway.”

Alice immediately sprung up. “Wait just a minute. First of all,
Baker
has no more say-so in this whatsoever. Don’t even get me started on that money-hungry son of a bitch.” (Alice’s always hated Baker.) “And second of all, who knows how long this place will take to sell. We want you to feel better in the meantime. If nothing else, changing the name will
help
you sell it. Vermont Haus Inn. If that isn’t the coldest, most boring name for an inn I’ve ever heard.”

“Wait ’til you see the woman who named it. You’ll see why,” I told her.

Virginia jumped off the bed and ran out to the sitting room. When she returned she was holding a roll of wallpaper. “All of us feel really bad about not sending you a house warming gift.” She looked around at the others for reassurance and they all nodded in agreement. “Remember that night we were talking on the phone and you were complaining about your tacky red-checked dining room? I asked you how big it was and you said about the same size as your dining room back home?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Well, that is coming down, and this”—she rolled out the paper in her hand—“is going up.”

I was completely dumbfounded. It was my very favorite wallpaper in the world, the same exact pattern that had hung in my dining room back home. Even seeing it on the roll made my heart happy. “Where did you get it, how did you know how much to buy?”

“We asked the new owners of your old house if we could measure the dining room and then we ordered four more rolls just in case. We can return whatever we don’t use—less something called a restocking fee,” Alice explained. “No biggie.”

“Y’all shouldn’t have done that, it’s too much money.”

“Aren’t you worth it?” Mary Jule piped up. “We wanna help you change this place up. It’ll make you feel so much better, I promise.”

“Hang on, there’s more.” Virginia crawled back on top of the bed. “We thought you could serve all kinds of peach desserts, and we’d make sure to send you the peaches from home. Peach preserves could always be on the tables for breakfast and each night in the summer you could feature a different fresh peach dessert. Peach cobbler, peach pie, homemade peach ice cream, peaches jubilee—now
I’m
gettin’ excited.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Here’s the best part. Fresh peach daiquiris as the specialty of the house. You’ve got to
Southernize
this place, Lee,” Alice said.

“I know I do. That was my original intention. But can we just get through the weekend first? When Helga and Rolf find out this place is for sale and that I’ve hired a new sous-chef, it’s gonna be bad, really bad.” Recalling what it was like to work with the Sergeant gave me a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. “They liked Baker. I’m not so sure how they’ll react to someone new.”

“Leelee,” Alice said, more seriously, “I know we’ve all talked about this hundreds of times on the phone already, but you’re gonna make it without Baker. You don’t need him. You’ll run this place on your own just fine until it sells. I gotta tell you though, looking over at his clothes in your closet is making me sick.”

“I was just gonna say the same thing,” Virginia said. “Why are they still hanging there? Baker is such a damn coward.”

“When was the last time you talked to him?” Mary Jule wanted to know.

“A couple of weeks ago but only for a second. He calls the girls though, and he’s taken them to dinner a time or two.” I shook my head and closed my eyes for a second. “You’re right, Virgy; he is a coward. I can’t believe he’s done this to us,” I said, as tears welled in my eyes.

My tears momentarily halted their jeers toward Baker. When they started rolling down my cheeks, Mary Jule scooted over and held me close. Her spontaneous grasp sprung forth a gush of agony, built up over months and months, and my spirit finally broke into a million tiny pieces. I cried the cry I had long needed, with heavy uncontrollable sobs. Mary Jule caressed my head while Virginia hooked her arm through mine and laid her head on my shoulder. Alice rubbed my legs and the three of them remained silent while I wept my way through a rite of passage, a transition from the only existence I’d known on to the uncharted trail of a new life without Baker.

Never one to remain serious for more than a few minutes, Virginia rolled off the bed and started shuffling through Baker’s clothes. She pulled a hat off a hook and held it out, by its earflap, with just two fingers. “Wonder how much wood he’s chucked in this thing—the woodchuck wannabe.” She let it fall to the floor. “Let’s get this crap
out of here
. Why should you have to look at it every day and be reminded of him?”

“He said he’d come for it all.” I pulled myself up and wrapped my tear-soaked hair back into a ponytail and tied it in a knot.

“Too late. We’re gonna take it to him. I’ve got a plan, an Agency assignment!” Virginia gets this great look on her face when she’s got scheming on the brain. It appeared as if she had come up with a doozie. (The Agency, the
GK
Agency, was formed back in the seventh grade, to spy on Mary Jule’s big brothers. It later came in handy when using the “drive-by” method to stake out the whereabouts of our boyfriends. GK stands for the one and only Gladys Kravitz. The nosy neighbor on
Bewitched
.)

“She’s got that look in her eye,” Alice said.

“Do tell,” said Mary Jule.

“No, not yet. I’ll tell ya later when I’ve thought it through more. Aren’t y’all tired of lying here? Let’s start decorating. I want people to know when they walk in the door that a Southern belle lives here and that she’s the one in charge. Besides, I’m starving. Got any good food around this joint, Leelee?”

______

The first time my best friends met Jeb Duggar he had his head up a chimney. The inimitable sound of “Chim Chim Cher-ee” emerged from the parlor early the next morning, and could be heard all the way from the big kitchen. All of us were sitting around in our housecoats drinking coffee.

“I know that song. Jeb must be here,” Sarah said.

“Oh, goody, maybe we’ll get a peek into his Computer World today.” Virginia poured herself more coffee and headed out the door. “Come on, Sarah, introduce us. I’ve been living for this.”

“Okay,” Sarah said, and all the rest of us grabbed our cups and followed her out to the parlor.

Once she got to the hearth, Sarah started giggling and bent down for a better look. “Jeb, somebody wants to meet you.”

Jeb was on his knees in the fireplace. Upon hearing Sarah, he poked out his head, which was covered in a dirty old top hat, and peered over at all of us. With his giant handlebar mustache and big bushy beard, all covered in soot, and his big ole hairy stomach pushing out of a black long-sleeved T-shirt that was made to look like the front of a tux, he was quite the sight. I didn’t even know chimney sweeping was one of his duties at my inn. I didn’t even know chimney sweeping was actually something that needed to be done at all, to tell you the truth.

Before Sarah could make a formal introduction, Virginia started right in. “So you must be Jay-eb.” She overemphasized her Southern accent on purpose.

“Yuup, how’d you know?” he said, arduously standing up and wiping his hands on his pants.

“Leelee’s told us all about you.” Virginia moved in closer to him.