Chapter 14

Another hard frost hit Maine the next morning. The ground was white with frost, and the vegetation was wilted. Once again I had left my car outside the garage, and had to go out and scrape the windshield. The colored leaves had begun to fade and were falling off the trees. I’d have to rake up the leaves pretty soon and get the gardens ready for winter. Make no mistake, winter was coming, and it was coming sooner than later. The days were beginning to be noticeably shorter, and I could feel myself beginning to miss the sunlight.

Tim had left for work, and I planning to spend the day at home, working on the vegetarian cookbook. So far I had collected enough recipes to make a good start, but I still had to field test a few. Most were vegetarian adaptations from my recipe box, and so far had turned out okay. I had just settled down when the doorbell rang.

The doorbell always startles me because it is used so infrequently. Most of my friends just knock on the door, walk in, and yell. Argus hates the doorbell and went tearing off on a run barking as he went. I opened the door and saw Beth White standing on porch.

“I hope I’m not interrupting you,” said Beth.

“Not at all, come in! Would you like some coffee?” I asked.

“That would be lovely,” she answered. “I’m afraid my kitchen isn’t well stocked yet.” I ushered her into the living room and went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. I took some muffins out of the freezer and zapped them in the microwave. I put everything on a tray and returned to the living room. Argus jumped onto Beth’s lap.

“I’m sorry about Argus,” I said. “He’s not well-behaved and he likes company.”

“I love dogs!” said Beth. “If I had more time, I would have one.”

“How are you settling in?”

“My oil tank is almost empty. I was hoping you could recommend a good oil company. These muffins are very good, by the way,” she said as she tasted a blueberry yogurt muffin.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I use Benson’s Oil, for the furnace, not the muffins. They have a budget plan and automatic fill up, so I never have to think about it. Running out of oil on a cold winter night can be very inconvenient.”

“Just what I need. I’ll give them a call.”

“When do you start teaching at the college?” I asked.

“I’ve already started with research and writing, but I don’t begin teaching until January.”

“That’s good. It will give you some time to settle in.”

“Have you always lived here?” she asked.

“No, I did grow up here, but left after high school. I worked in New Hampshire for thirty years, then I moved back in retirement.”

“That must have been an easy move,” she replied.

“Actually, no.” I then went on to tell her about renovating Eagle’s Nest and about finding a buried corpse in the backyard.

“Well, that makes my relocation problems seem insignificant. My problem is that it’s hard to meet people in town. Everyone seems to know everyone else.”

“It probably seems that way, and I know people’s perception is that New Englanders seem cold, but give it a little time and effort and you’ll feel at home in no time,” I said.

“I hope you’re right!”

“Here’s an idea. Brian Stillwater, the guy who owns the coffee shop, is starting a spiritual discussion group. Why don’t you come along?” I asked.

“I’m not sure,” she hesitated.

“It’s spiritual, not theological. No fundamentalists!”

“Sure, why not?”

“Okay, I’ll let you know when the next one is.” I offered.

“I should get going. Thanks, Jesse.”

“No problem. See you later.”

 

Choir practice was back to normal. Everyone showed up for rehearsal. The music for Sunday was easy enough that we actually sounded good. It probably was a good thing because most of us were still upset by the sight of a dead man in the choir room. The fact that the murder remained unsolved didn’t help our nerves any.

“Be here at nine o’clock Sunday morning to rehearse. Remember that we are having a guest preacher, so we need to be a little flexible about time,” Rob Sinclair reminded us. We put our music folders away and filed out the door as quickly as possible. No one was inclined to linger behind and chat.

When I was outside I saw a police cruiser parked across the street with its lights off. I went over and slipped into the passenger seat.

“I brought you some decaf and a donut,” said Tim from the shadows of the driver’s seat.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“I’m on the late shift tonight and wanted a break.”

“I could use a sugar high myself,” I said.

“I’m having second thoughts about retirement.”

“I kind of figured that out,” I replied.

“In spite of not always working with the cream of society and having to do lots of paperwork, it does have some excitement to it.”

“You could be a private cop,” I said. “Work for yourself, be your own boss. You’ll have your pension to live on. You can just take on the cases you want, when you want.” I could sense Tim relaxing in his seat.

“ A private detective? I never really thought of that. That’s a great idea!”

“Glad to be of service,” I said. Tim reached over and ran his fingers through my hair. “You’re not going to get all gushy are you?”

“I might,” said Tim.

“Awesome,” I replied and took another sip of coffee.

 

Sometime during the night it started to rain and rain hard. I woke up early and left Tim sleeping. Argus followed me into the living room. I had several things to do and going to work at Erebus was low on the list. I took my laptop into the kitchen and started surfing the web for information on cake decorating. I really wanted to practice decorating a cake so the wedding cake for Jason and Monica’s wedding would look presentable. I had a vision of a lopsided cake with smeared white and yellow frosting.

By the time Tim woke up I had two layers of cake cooling on a wire rack in the kitchen.

“What the hell are you doing?” asked Tim as he poured his morning coffee.

“And good morning to you, too,” I said handing him a plate of scrambled eggs and toast.

“Sorry, you know how it is before coffee in the morning.”

“I’m practicing cake decorating before I make a complete fool of myself at the wedding reception. Frosting a cake is something I never mastered. As you may have noticed, I dribble icing or powdered sugar on all my cakes.”

“Good luck with that! Did you suggest that they get the cake from a bakery?”

“Yes, and have you ever tried to suggest anything to Monica after she makes up her mind?”

“I see your point,” replied Tim

“And what are you doing today? I asked.

“I have to do staff evaluations. It should be a fun day!”

“I sense verbal irony,” I answered.

“You sense correctly.” Tim finished his breakfast, gave me a hug, and headed off to work. Argus followed Tim to the door and then ran back to the kitchen and curled up under the table.

I got out my recently purchased decorating tools and started to work. I sprayed the cake with a sugar and water mixture and let it dry to help reduce crumbs. Then I spread on a base of white frosting on the cake. I took an icing bag and added yellow edging to the cake. So far it was going to be passable if not perfect. The basic cake was looking good, I’d practice making frosting flowers in the next few days. Since it was about two weeks before the wedding I had a little wiggle time. I’d make the finished cake next week and put it in the freezer. I can’t stand to wait to the last minute to do anything.

It was now midmorning and I figured I should make an appearance at Erebus and work on some Internet orders. I cut up the wedding cake to take in with me, otherwise I would be stuck eating wedding cake for the next two weeks. I wrapped up the cake, harnessed up Argus and we headed out the door. I took the car to work because it was raining.

Driving to work was a challenge, as the rain was much heavier than I thought. There were limbs down everywhere and the remaining leaves on the trees had all fallen, leaving the trees bare. Fallen branches and wet leaves made for a difficult drive, even though it was only a little over a mile.

“Bright Blessings!” said Viola by way of greeting when Argus and I walked in the door.

“Good morning,” I replied. “Where’s the old hag?”

“Jackson took her out to breakfast, and they haven’t returned yet.”

“Is everything quiet here?” I asked.

“So far it is. I had a few window shoppers, but that was it.”

“Okay, I’ll be in the back if you need me.” Argus headed to his bed under my desk and I pulled up the internet sales. There were more rush orders today than usual, then I realized that Halloween was in less than two weeks. Most of the orders were for occult paraphernalia. By mid afternoon I had the orders ready and waiting for UPS pick up.

Just as I was packing to leave, Rhonda came into the back office with a piece of cake in her hand.

“Good cake,” said Rhonda between mouthfuls.

“Thanks, it was practice for the wedding cake.”

“Hell, I’d even get married again just for the cake,” joked Rhonda.

“You think Jackson’s going to pop the question?”

“I don’t know. I hope not.”

“Why not?” I asked. “He’s a nice guy and he adores you.”

“I know. It’s just that I like things the way they are. Change leads to change.”

“I know. I feel the same way. I really hate change. Usually change is never for the good.”

“You know,” began Rhonda, “we never have any time together any more. We are either working or going about our separate business.”

“That’s because when we were teaching at Amoskeag High, we were pretty isolated. Here in Bath we’ve had more time to be out in the real world and meet real people. All we ever saw for thirty years were teenagers and other teachers, most of whom had a very tenuous grasp on reality. It was a very narrow view of life.”

“I guess you’re right. In this case change was for the better.”

“Come on over for supper tonight,” I said. “We can talk some more.”

“I’ll be there!” she answered.

 

The ride back to Eagle’s Nest was just as troublesome as the morning ride had been. The roads were still littered with fallen branches, and the leaves were still wet and slippery. It had stopped raining, which was a good thing. I half expected the lights to be out when I got home, but everything seemed to be in order. The house was extremely cold and damp, so I built a fire in the living room.

Since Rhonda was coming for dinner, I decided to take a break from the vegetarian fare and make a stifado, or Greek beef stew. It’s not so much that I’m against meat, but I have a real problem with factory farming and animal mistreatment. For the stew I used farm-raised organic beef. I knew Rhonda liked Greek food, and I had picked up recipe tips from the two summers I spent in Greece back in the eighties. The stew is basically beef and onions with a tomato sauce, currents and spices. It simmers on the stove for about three hours and fills the house with its spicy smell. It is the perfect meal on a cold, damp day. I cut up the beef and onions, added the spices, and put them all on to simmer. I took out the bread machine and tossed in the makings for a nice whole wheat bread.

Once everything was cooking, I got out my cookbook project and started working. Argus was under the table snoozing way. The house was warming up, and then I noticed that it was getting dark out even though it was only late afternoon. I love the change of seasons, but hate the loss of daylight. I went around the house and turned on as many lights as I could to keep the darkness at bay. Argus started barking and headed to the door so I knew Rhonda had arrived. Who needs a door bell when you have a pug?

“This is shitty weather,” said Rhonda as she came through the door and handed me a bottle of chardonnay.

“It’s nice and warm here, have a seat and I’ll uncork the wine.” I returned with two chilled wine glasses.

“So what’s new with you and the hunky cop?”

“Tim is determined to solve the Riley case before retirement,” I answered.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I’m not sure it’s solvable. He’s also having trouble adjusting to the idea of retirement. I don’t think he’s in the right frame of mind to let go.”

“Well,” began Rhonda, “we both know what that’s like. It is loss and grief over the end of all you’ve known, and excitement about all that is now possible. The trick is to relax and go with the flow.”

“I did suggest that he become a private cop and work cases he chooses,” I offered.

“That’s a great idea, just make sure he has some down time before starting something new.”.

“And what’s new with Jackson” I asked.

“He certainly has no interest in retiring. In fact he is busier than ever. But he still makes time for me. I’m afraid he might ask me to marry him, and half afraid he won’t.”

“So you said this morning,” I reminded her.

“Well, I love things the way they are. We each have our own lives, yet we spend lots of time together and have fun. What we share is quality time. If we got married that could all change. We’d have plenty of time together, but what would happen to quality. Remember, I’ve been married several times.”

“Four times if I’m correct!”

“Fuck you, the first two didn’t count.”

“Whatever! And why are you afraid he won’t ask you?”

“If he doesn’t want to marry me, does that mean he doesn’t love me?”

“You are,” I said slowly, “overanalyzing the situation. Happiness is not the future; all we have is the present, especially in middle age. We’ve buried enough friends to know that.”

“You are right! Carpe Diem! Live for today. And if I might say, dinner smells wonderful.”

“It’s almost ready. I better go check on it,” I said and headed to the kitchen.

The bread was cooling on a rack and I set up a card table in the living room so we could eat by the fire. I refilled the wine glasses and dished out the stifado into two bowls. There was plenty left over. I put on some soft Greek background music.

“This is just like a taverna in Greece!”

“Without the twelve-hour flight,” I added. Argus had sprawled out in front of the fire and was watching us out of the corner of his eye, just in case we were clumsy enough to drop something.

“Enough about me,” said Rhonda as she put down here spoon. “What’s up with you?”

“I don’t know what happened to retirement,” I said. “I’m busier now than ever. Jason and Monica’s wedding, my new cookbook, helping Tim with the Riley murder.”

“But those are all fun things, except for the murder, that is. And even with that you get to work with the hot cop.”

“He actually seems to need my support these days. It feels good to be needed,” I said.

“I know, I think that’s why we’re all here,” replied Rhonda.

We spent the rest of the evening eating and talking until past midnight.