| |
––––––––
Arlie wandered into the cafe kitchen after he heard Jane return from dropping Gladys’ car back at her place. “I thought Jack was coming home early. No one will be hunting in this weather.”
“I think you’re right, but Jack still isn’t back yet.” Jane hung up her coat and stepped to the sink to wash her hands. “He texted me about an hour ago. The ferry from Stoney Hill is cancelled.”
Arlie grunted. “The waves are too high. There’s a king tide too with the full moon. The ferries are probably canceled until after the storm is over. We can expect some flooding in the village too, I’m willing to bet.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Jane crossed to the fridge and extracted a yellow ceramic bowl of diced hard-boiled eggs. “I’m glad the café and house are on a higher elevation than some parts of the village.” She also took out a red bowl which contained shredded tuna from the glass front appliance and placed them on the large wooden table. “Anyway, with Stoney Hill’s ferry canceled, Jack had to take the boat from Vesuvius and drive home the long way. It might be slow going he said. There may be trees down on the road and there will no doubt be a detour or two.” As she spoke, Jane gathered the rest of the ingredients to make up the sandwiches for the conference lunch. “Can you grab me the platters, please?”
Arlie went to the cupboard and reached up to the top shelf for white oval china platters. “Great, he’ll have to take the Coast Road for the last leg, that will be hell on earth with this wind.” Arlie put the plates on the side of the table within Jane’s reach.
The loaves of whole wheat and white bread were already sliced. He occupied himself with making rows to receive the fillings. “I wonder if Gladys’ underground garage will flood.”
Jane combined the ingredients of chives, green onion, spices and mayo. “Good thing she parks up top outside, then. There was standing water in her lot when I left in your truck. At the street, there was a puddle bordering on the size of a lake. Norm Gorlitz was out there in a slicker digging a trench to the culvert.” She used a large wooden spoon to stir the egg salad. “Oh, I parked your truck in the garage.”
“Thanks.” Arlie watched Jane quickly plop a dollop of filling on every second slice of bread, he took up a spatula to spread the filling evenly. “The condo building should be fine. If the structure didn’t take serious damage from the multiple times Linda Leechie flooded the place, I’m willing to bet Gladys’ condo will be fine.”
“Gladys did say the remediation work was completed quite well.” Jane agreed with her father-in-law as she proceeded to the next step in the sandwich prep.
Arlie began cleaning up the used dishes. They made a good work team.
“I have to say it is easier to get food ready for Mrs. Roque’s guests when we aren’t so busy in the café.” Jane handed him the last bowl.
The older man put the item in the dishwasher as he made a gruff sound of agreement. “And with Maisy otherwise engaged.” He closed the machine’s door and then returned to the café to check on their last remaining customer.
Jane’s mouth curved into a smile. Her father-in-law was invaluable with his meticulous work ethic.
She added the egg salad sandwiches to the other platter, the tuna one was already assembled. The crusts had been trimmed off. Jane always thought that was such a waste of Gladys’ lovely bread. She figured out it was better to cut the crusts off ahead of time so she could reuse the leftover bread in stuffing for a chicken or Swiss steak at home. Waste not want not was a mantra for most restaurant owners since profit margins were only three percent.
A gust of wind rattled down the old brick chimney in the kitchen. It was a lonely wintery sound. The mournful noise made Jane think of her Aunt Ethel.
“This is one of those days my aunt would say ‘The wind has eyes,’” she said when Arlie wandered back over.
Arlie grunted. “It’s a good thing that chimney’s been capped. Keeps out some of the damp and cold.” He added more items to the dishwasher and left again.
Jane moved the platters to a clean counter.
The kitchen chimney hadn’t been in use since the building had been converted to electric heat over two decades ago. And yet, the unseen force found it’s way into any cracks.
Jane glanced over at the structure and wondered if it were possible to have the chimney bricks removed and repurposed. Of course, if they removed the chimney the hole would need to be closed. More work to add to the future shingling job coming sooner than she’d like. It would be a lot of bother and expense merely because she didn’t like the mournful sound.
“I’m glad we got that fuel tank out of the basement last year. It took up so much room and wasn’t used. Still with the price of electricity rising, I’m wondering if I made a mistake.” She said on Arlie’s next return.
Jane opened a drawer and pulled out cellophane to wrap up the sandwich platters.
“Fuel isn’t cheap either.” Arlie pursed his lips as he thought. “We’d be better off with putting in an actual wood stove.” Arlie paused in rinsing the utensils. He eyed the white painted brick chimney. “I bet we could put a steel liner down that thing and add a burner in the basement. Lots of room to store wood down there, the space is going to waste. We could build a holding rack or two, plus there’s the old coal delivery door to move wood inside.”
“What does firewood cost?”
“I’d have to ask Jack. He buys the cord wood for the house fireplace. Better yet we could make use of the dead fall from the old orchard. I just never got around to gathering any this year.”
Jane frowned. “What old orchard?”
“Over behind Saint Mark’s church, past the cemetery. When I last visited Winston up at the home, he told me to take as much as I wanted.”
“The haunted wood?”
Arlie chuckled and folded the tea towel he’d been using to dry the utensils. “That’s what you kids called it. When I was a younger man, Winston Kettlefish and his family ran a farm just outside of town, the orchard was part of it. They sold really good apples too.”
“Wait, is that why there is a Stan Brothers realtor’s sign posted on the Kettlefish’s road?”
“Yep, Winston’s kids want him to sell everything now that he’s in assisted living. Of course I’d never list anything with Steady Stan Brothers, the guy’s a crook and I told Winston exactly that.”
She was about to ask Arlie to back that statement up with something more than gossip, but another sudden gust of wind, stronger this time, rattled all the kitchen windows.
Arlie frowned at the noise. “I'm going to check all the windows are fastened properly.” He started with the laundry room off the kitchen and then the café area.
The vibrating sound made Jane look out the west window. The black sky was the backdrop for the trees whipping violently left and right in the crazy wind.
Jane frowned and felt a wave of concerned for her husband and his long journey home. Still, Jack was as competent as men came. He was more than capable and could look after himself. And yet, she worried. This storm was not the usual sort they got in early December. Good thing they'd held off with Christmas decorations and lights. It was late in the season to get something this massive and powerful. Unfortunately, it felt like the low-pressure system was only getting started.
At that particular moment, Jane caught a glimpse of the green station wagon pulling into the loading area behind the café.
“I’m dawdling, Gladys is here.” Jane immediately went back to the table and finished wrapping up the sandwiches for transport. Arlie popped back into the kitchen right after Jane said these words and helped her.
Seconds later Gladys Wyatt, the sixty-six-year-old silver-haired bundle of energy entered the café kitchen.
“Hi, Gladys.” Jane called over her shoulder.
“Hey, gang.” Gladys had to push the door hard to get it to close against the wind. Arlie moved across the room to help.
“I’ve got the Beef Wellington loaded up in the back of the car for the conference dinner tonight.” She ran her fingers over her silvery hair to restore some order. “I made sure to leave room in the back for the sandwich trays though.”
“Why are we supplying lunch to the House anyway?” Arlie subtly grasped Gladys’ hand and gave it a quick ‘hello’ squeeze. She looked up to smile at him.
Jane saw the byplay and hid her own smile. Gladys’ apple cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink. Her father-in-law wasn’t the type of man to put his emotions on display, so she ignored the fond gesture between the older couple. It pleased her they had each other.
She picked up two platters and crossed to the counter by the door. “Because Mrs. Roque is paying us.” Jane placed the plates in the high-sided rack on the counter. “And it’s a collaboration of sorts, I’m hoping for more business like this if the House hosts more conferences.” She didn’t say anything about the benefit of more business streams to get them through the winter months. “Plus, the sandwiches are meant to go along with the Wild Mushroom Surprise soup Mrs. Roque has chosen to serve.”
“I’m making the luncheon dessert over at the House kitchen. Mrs. Roque will have all the ingredients.” Gladys told Arlie.
He nodded at Gladys but latched on to Jane’s first words. “Wild Mushroom Surprise, you say?” his tone was dubious. “Made by Mrs. Roque?”
“Yes, she told me she harvested the mushrooms herself.” Jane turned back to the table for the last two plates. Usually, the blue racks were used to deliver the bread Gladys made for their larger customers. Like the Smuggler’s Inn at Whisky Corner. Today, they would be used to supply Highmere House.
“She’s been making that soup for decades.” Gladys adjusted the platters in the racks. “It’s a good thing these things are stackable.”
“I’m not sure oval platters were the best idea.” Jane tidied her work surface. “I should have bought square ones or rectangular, but we have them now.” She lifted one shoulder.
Arlie wasn’t done with the soup topic. “Is the ‘surprise’ about the kind of mushrooms Mrs. Roque uses?”
His expression had an edge, and made Jane lift an eyebrow at him.
“I hope they aren’t the type that give you a religious experience.” Arlie's eyes twinkled with mischief.
“Arlie!” Gladys pursed her lips and gave his hand a warning shake before handing him a tray to stack on top of the first one. “What a thing to think, let alone say. My goodness.”
“Uh huh.” Arlie moved to the connecting door to glance out into the café. Even though the bell had not rung. He returned after a quick glance. “If Mrs. Roque offers you some soup while you’re over there, are you going to eat it?”
Gladys frowned. “I...I don’t know.”
Arlie returned to the counter by the door and hefted the racks for transport to the back of the station wagon. “And why would that be?” He lifted salt and pepper eyebrows at Gladys.
It was her turn to mumble some words under her breath this time.
Jane held the kitchen door open for the two, biting her lip.
“What was that, Love?” Arlie pushed the outer screen door wider with his shoulder.
“I said, Mrs. Roque's eyesight isn’t as good as it used to be.” Gladys bustled past him and marched to the vehicle to open the car’s tailgate.
“Aha.” He nodded smugly as he followed.
After Gladys drove away, Arlie returned to the kitchen. Jane could see he was still a touch smug from winning the argument.
Jane continued washing the tabletop. “No one's in the café, are they?”
“One customer, already served.” Arlie glanced over his shoulder to the café interior again. “Someone who dropped by to see Jack.” His tone turned serious.
“Oh?” Jane moved on to returning the cellophane wrap to its drawer. She hadn’t been paying Arlie much attention until he said his son’s name. “Anything I can help with?”
“I don’t think so. I’ll let him know Jack will be late.”
The lights went out.
“Oh, no!” The dark sky lent almost no light to the kitchen. Jane turned to the counter and ran her hand along the top to find the correct drawer.
“I’ll check on our customer,” Arlie said in the dark. She could hear him shuffling his feet so as to not bump into anything. The light from the emergency exit in the next room was only a small help.
“Hang on a second.” Her hand found the items she was looking for and grasped the heavy rubber grips. A push of her thumb and white light flooded the room. “Here, Arlie.” She offered him the flashlight and switched on a second one.
“Thanks, I didn’t know we had these.”
“Jack put them in the drawer last week. We thought of emergency lights for the café dining area, but not the kitchen. He said we needed backup lighting of some kind in here anyway.”
Arlie smiled. “He’s always thinking, our Jack.” He hefted the light and continued through the connecting door to the café.
Jane followed her father-in-law out of the kitchen. She was curious about this visitor who had dropped in to see Jack. Her light was superfluous, so she shut it off and tucked it into her apron pocket.
She found Arlie speaking to a boy. “Hello.” She said to the young man sitting wide-eyed at the table to the left of the counter. “I’m glad it isn’t as dark in here.” Ambient light filtered into the room from windows on three walls. The emergency light shone from above each exit and helped some.
“Hi,” the boy said. His tone was timid.
“I’m Jane.” She glanced around looking for an adult. “Is your mom or dad in the restroom?”
He shook his head. Where was Jack’s visitor?
At the boy’s steady gaze, Jane tipped her head as she looked at him. “Are you here alone?”
The boy nodded.
“Is someone meeting you? What’s your name.”
“His name is Miles Iverson.” Arlie chose that moment to interject. “He came over on the ten-twenty. He’s here to see Jack.”
Jane turned to look at her father-in-law where he stood beside the boy. “Why?”
Arlie turned to look at Miles. “Would you like to tell her, or should I?”
Miles lifted his chin in a stubborn tilt. “I need to know if Jack is my dad.”
Jane knew her eyebrows were up near her hairline at the boy’s answer. She blinked and moistened her lips, not sure what to say. Finally, she found her voice. “I see. Well, does you mother know where you are? This storm is pretty bad and I’m sure she’s worried. Have you called her?”
“I sent my mum a text when I got here.” Miles seemed oblivious to the panic he might be causing at home. He lifted both shoulders. “She’ll see it when she gets off work. I should be home by then, I guess.” His words trailed off.
Jane looked at Arlie. “Can I have a word?”
“Sure. Miles, can I get you anything?”
“No thanks. Is it okay if I sit in one of those chairs, my clothes are dry now.” He pointed at one of two armchairs by the now cold faux fire. The heating element had died with the power outage.
“Of course.” Jane gave him a smile.
Miles got up and wandered over to one burgundy tub-shaped armchair. He dragged his backpack over to him and dug around inside to extract his phone and opened a gaming app.
Jane gave Arlie a sharp tip of her head to take them behind the counter and out of earshot.
“What the heck?” Jane was incredulous.
“Heh, no worries.” Arlie grinned at his daughter-in-law. “There’s no way the kid could be Jack’s.”
“How can you be so sure? He dated other women.” Jane clamped her mouth shut, took a breath, and started again. “It’s possible, isn’t it?”
“You know Jack, what do you think?” Arlie’s confidence was unwavering.
Jane breathed in deeply through her nose, striving for calm. “Arlie, it’s possible the mother never told Jack she was pregnant. Accidents happen, look at me. I was an accident. My father never knew my mother messed around for a long time. I was lucky my dad loved me anyway.”
It was Arlie’s turn to blink. His mouth opened to deny the idea, but Jane noticed when doubt clouded his eyes. “Yeah, I guess that’s possible.”
“Not everyone is as ethical as our Jack,” Jane reminded Arlie.
