Abit
I’d been thinking my life was finally going along regular-like, and then just like that, it turned upside down again. I had to stop work, catch a train, and tell Fiona I had to cancel our date to go help Della.
“What’s the rush?” Fiona asked, finishing her afternoon tea in my loft. (I could set my watch by her teatime.) I felt especially bad leaving her behind because I really wanted her to join me sometime and have tea with Nigel.
“She found Astrid’s mama. Up in D.C.”
“You mean that woman who disappeared a coupla years ago? I thought the sheriff closed that case.”
“Well, not exactly. He didn’t have any real evidence of anyone doing her harm—just that messed up place down by the creek and the fact that she’d gone missing. And now she’s found.” I left it at that.
It wasn’t a great time to leave, what with furniture orders and getting reacquainted with Fiona. But I had to admit the idea of another train trip, spending time with Della, and finding Astrid’s mama was making the trip sound better and better. I caught Mary Lou before she started to lock up and found the photo Della wanted me to bring—one of Astrid and her mama from three or four year earlier. I’d always wondered why she had that on a bulletin board in the back of the store, but I reckoned she liked remembering that little girl. She was a corker.
Back at the woodshop, I got Shiloh straight on what needed doing while I was gone. Then I took a shower before picking up Fiona, who’d run on home to change. One good thing about the middle-of-the-night train ride was I didn’t have to break our dinner date after all. I’d made reservations at her favorite spot—McGregor’s—to make amends.
The fine meal put Fiona in good spirits as we rode back to her home, where we spent some time together before I had to get home to pack my grip. While we were talking, putting off saying goodbye, Fiona gently scratched Millie along her shoulder, in that favorite place of hers, and promised to spend the nights I was away with Millie in my loft. (Shiloh said he’d look after Millie during the day.) I was grateful Fiona loved her as much as I did.
I drove the Merc over to Gastonia. The train was running late, so I didn’t board the Southern Crescent ‘til almost one o’clock in the morning. An attendant found the roomette Della’d paid for and showed me how everything worked. He put my bag down on the chair, thanked me for the tip, and gently closed the door behind him.
Man, I loved that room. I felt like I was staying in a for-real dollhouse, the way the sink folded up and a private toilet appeared underneath and the two chairs by the window made into the bed. Reminded me of sleeping in Enrico and Lilian’s Airstream at the Sunset Mountain Trailer Park in Virginia.
But unlike those nights, I barely slept. I was glued to the window. When you see trains flying by, you don’t realize from outside how big the windows are. I couldn’t stop looking at the houses and animals and trucks we sped past. And little towns we flew right through. I lucked out with a clear night and a gibbous moon, which cast a glow on everything. I finally fell off to sleep just after three o’clock. By half past eight, I was plowing through a big breakfast in the dining car, with those shiny silver coffee pots that had come to mean adventure.