She walked out and met Mike on the sidewalk. He opened the passenger side door, and she got in. Manners, she thought, as she allowed him to close her door.
“How was your culinary experience in our little town?” he asked once they were back on the main road.
“It was the best ever.” She smiled widely.
“It’s good, I’ll admit, but I think you need to get out more often if you call it the best.”
“I need to talk up my restaurant if I hope to get good tips.”
“What?” He turned toward her briefly, a look of astonishment in his eyes. “You work there now?”
She saw the genuine surprise. “Don’t think I can do it?” She grinned, putting him on the spot.
“I would never say that. Pardon me if I sound typical country, but you strike me as someone more... oh, I don’t know, cosmopolitan. Or maybe I like tasting my shoe.”
Markie laughed. “I know what you’re trying to say.”
“Whew! I just spilled oil all over my shoes. Not the kind of gravy I’m fond of. So, did Pam hire you?”
“I’ll find out tomorrow, I hope. But I would like to stick around here for a bit—gives me a chance to experience a little slower pace. I can really use that about now.”
“That’s great! Oxford is a warm little town. I’m not sure about slower than where you came from, but then I’ve lived here all my life. I don’t have much experience outside of this valley. Any plans on where you’re gonna stay?”
“Pam told me there was a bed and breakfast nearby. I’m hoping they have a room. If she hires me, I’ll look for an apartment.”
“That would be Spangler’s. We can call it from the shop.”
“I appreciate that.” She looked out the window and caught sight of the scenery as it passed by. “This is such a welcoming town. I never saw anything like that in the city.”
“I’m sure you would. You need to know where to look is all.”
“I suppose. My experiences there have been hot and cold, to say the least, and I’ve lived there all my life.”
“You will find some of those cold days here, too, I’m sure.”
“Let’s hope it’s only the weather.” She grinned.
Mike glanced over at her. “Even the coldest day would be warmed by a smile like that.”
Markie blushed. Trying to divert attention away from her crimson face, she said mistakenly, “You use that on all the girls?”
Mike paused. Obviously changing the subject, he said, “There were no additional issues with the engine. Usually, when that kind of belt breaks, it’s because the pulley froze up.”
“That’s good to hear.” She felt the physical change in his attitude. It was as though he was slighted by the question. Her smile drained.
At the shop, Mike led her into the office to settle the bill. “Here’s your key. You’re all set.”
“Ninety-seven-fifty?”
“Yes. The belt was less than I expected. I took a half hour off from the book, too.”
“Thank you.” Feeling guilty, Markie made an attempt to amend her brash statement. “I’m sorry for my comment earlier. It was sweet of you. To tell you the truth, I’ve never been paid such a compliment before. I wasn’t sure how to handle it.” She handed him a one-hundred dollar bill.
Mike’s face softened. “That’s okay. You don’t know me, so how could you have meant anything by it? I should have kept it professional, anyway.” He made change and returned it to her, stamping “Paid Cash” on the work order. He held a pen out for her to sign the bottom of the ticket.
“No. It was sweet. Thank you.” She smiled at him, choosing to keep her teeth concealed this time. She placed her signature on the solid line.
“I almost forgot,” Mike said. “We were going to call Spangler’s.”
“Spangler’s?”
“The bed and breakfast?”
“Oh. Right.”
Mike picked up the phone and dialed. With the first ring, he handed it off to Markie.
Two rings later, Markie heard it pick up on the other end. “Hello. Do you have a room available for tonight? Just one... Maybe a few nights... ’til Saturday? Good. I’ll be over in a few minutes... Markie Stephan... Thank you.” She handed the receiver back to Mike.
“Sounds like you’re all set,” said Mike as he hung up the phone.
“At least until the weekend.”
“That gives you three days to find something.”
“If I get the job, that is.”
“I’m sure you will.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence.”
“My pleasure.”
* * * *
She got in her car and drove back to town. Mike watched her leave, waving as she started down the street. I can’t believe I was the first to compliment her, he thought. He glanced at the signature on the repair ticket. “Markie Stephan. Where have I heard that name before?” he mumbled under his breath. More thoughts entered his mind in the form of a fantasy.
Markie was in his arms, floating on a lake, just the two of them in a row boat, tiny ripples rocking them gently. She turned to face him, her deep brown eyes reaching into his, those supple, lightly glossed lips asking his lips to join them as one. Birds chirping in the distance as they held each other, not another soul around. Time stopping.
The phone rang, snapping Mike back into the real world, a lingering smile remaining.
* * * *
Markie pulled into a small parking lot beside the large, converted home. Victorian in architecture, it appeared to be freshly painted in the traditional yellow and green of that time period. The ornate entrance door was amazing in its elegance. She entered the foyer. No one was around, so she pressed the button on top of the chrome bell that sat in the middle of the desk that was on the left side of the small room. Other than the blotter, it was the only thing on the desktop. In fact, this small room had no other furnishings except for two paintings on adjacent walls and a cubby unit on the left wall behind the desk for mail and keys to the rooms.
An older lady entered through the doorway opposite the entrance door. She resembled a school madam from the prairie. She had a few strands of brunette lingering in a head of hair that had almost completely turned silver and was done up tightly in a bun. She had a grandmother’s skin that Markie remembered from visits to her grandparents as a child. It was pale and very loose. Her voice was soothing and deep but a little nasal. “May I help you?” she asked.
“Yes. I called a few minutes ago about a room?”
“Oh, yes. Welcome to Spangler’s. I’m Marylyn, but everyone calls me Maggie.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Markie.”
“I have a nice choice of two rooms on the second floor. One overlooks the front yard. You can even see the river. The other is next to the bathroom, which has its advantages first thing in the morning. Do you have a preference?”
“The one in front sounds nice.”
“Excellent.” She pulled open the top desk drawer and pulled out the register. “Please sign in while I get your linen.”
Maggie left as Markie filled in the blocks of the open book. A scant moment later, Maggie returned with a towel and washcloth, both embroidered with the Spangler crest. She opened the right-hand drawer and retrieved a complimentary miniature bar of soap. Placing it atop the washcloth, she handed the articles to Markie. Then she removed the key to room six from the hook above the respective cubbyhole and placed it on the washcloth next to the soap.
As she led Markie through the door and out of the foyer, they entered a luscious lobby. There was a small sitting room off to the right with a card table and four chairs surrounding it in the center of the room. A plush sofa was on the far side under a window. To the left of the lobby was the dining room. Two tables, capable of seating eight persons each, filled much of the space. At the far end, to the right of the kitchen door, was a coffee brewer with a well-stocked condiment bar next to it.
“We serve dinner precisely at six, and breakfast is between seven and nine,” Maggie said. Pointing up the stairs, she added, “Make a U-turn at the top and straight ahead to the last door. Checkout is in the morning at ten. Again, welcome. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
“Thank you, Maggie. I’m sure I will.” Markie ascended the slightly curved staircase and walked along the railing at the top until she reached her door. Unlocking the handle that looked like something one would expect to see on a front entrance door, she entered. The room was spacious. A queen-size bed extended out from the wall on the right, two small tables with reading lamps on each side, and boasted an impressive headboard that was a hand-carved and flawless scene of a carriage on a dirt road entering a covered bridge. Two posts sprang up from the footboard, their tops resembling the best part of an asparagus spear. Two wing chairs covered in floral material with matching footstools were placed in the corner to the left. A shaker-style walnut dresser was directly ahead, framed above by the large picture window. Maggie was right. The river was easily seen from there across the main road.
Markie placed her toiletries on the edge of the bed and went back out to the car to retrieve her suitcase. It was not big, but was large enough to have a pull handle and two small wheels affixed to the bottom. She rolled it as best she could on the gravel drive until she was back inside. Then she lifted it and carried it upstairs to her room.
After a home cooked dinner consisting of a medium-rare roast, au gratin potatoes, steamed green beans, and fresh baked rolls, she took a quick shower in the community bath and changed into a pair of pink paisley pajamas. When she returned to her room, she laid out a set of clothes she deemed appropriate for her interview in the morning. Draping them over the back of one of the wing chairs, she then pulled down the covers and slipped in between two silky sheets and turned on the one item that failed to match the décor—a thirty-one inch flat screen TV attached to the wall next to the door. She fell asleep watching the news.
* * * *
She woke the next morning to the alarm clock she had set on the table to the left of the bed. The TV was still on. Yawning, she stretched before standing up. She made a quick trip to the bathroom to freshen up and brush her teeth. She put on the outfit she’d laid out the night before, adjusting it meticulously in front of a long mirror mounted on the backside of the door.
After a very small breakfast of toast and a single egg over easy, Markie stepped out and hoofed it over to the village square three blocks away. It was still a few minutes before eight, so she sat on the bench nearest the diner and let her senses take in the amiable atmosphere the village offered. I think I can get used to this.
She walked in the door of the diner precisely at eight, standing quietly at the end of the counter. Looking around, she noticed half the seats were occupied, tables filled with country cooking in various stages of vanishing edibles. The restaurant wasn’t, by any stretch of the imagination, able to be considered fancy, but it was homey. Customers young and old were happy as the low murmur of contented voices filled the air.
“Good mornin’, darlin’. Come over here.” Pam stood at the last booth, flagging her over.
As Markie walked over, she noticed the men watching her pass by, though they attempted to disguise their glances, especially those with female companions. She sat in front of an application placed in the center of the table for her.
“Fill this out if you will, at least as much as you can. I know you don’t have a permanent address at the moment. We can leave that part blank until you get settled. Care for a cup of coffee while you fill it out?”
“Please, thank you.”
Pam returned quickly with a freshly brewed cup before returning to the other customers.
Markie entered everything that she could, leaving out the address. Also, she didn’t list any employment for the last three years. While Markie filled out the form, Pam waited all the tables, keeping her customers smiling. Still, there were a number of stares toward the last booth. Markie could sense them but chose not to look around to see who was watching her. Fifteen minutes later, Pam was caught up and returned to sit across from her.
“I got as much done as I could,” Markie stated.
Pam noticed the lack of recent employment. “I see you haven’t worked for the past three years. Will you need an advance to afford rent?”
Markie was a bit surprised by that question. She had a hard time believing Pam could offer her an advance when she did not even know her, much less seen her work. Did she trust everyone like this?
“No, I have some money saved up. Excuse me for asking, but isn’t that sort of a strange first question to ask in an interview?”
“Interview? What interview? I hired you yesterday.” She laughed so hard that everyone in the diner turned their heads. Even the cook peered out the serving window.
Markie was about speechless but managed to formulate a few syllables. “Um... Thank you.”
Pam displayed her appreciation, nodding. “Oh, I hope you don’t mind, but I did some checking around last night. I found a small, furnished apartment up on Chenango Street. It’s a big, white house that had part of the second floor converted. I know the owner, Mrs. Brown. She’ll give you a good price. Or are you interested in something a little bigger?”
“Something small is fine. Furnished is even better. Tell me, do you do this for all your employees?”
“Only when I need them to start the next morning.”
“Ulterior motives.” She flashed a wry grin at Pam.
“Of course.” Pam matched her expression. “Why don’t you check it out and see if it will work. I really would like you here at six in the morning, if possible.”
“Okay. I’ll go there this morning.”
“Are you sure you don’t need an advance?” Pam asked again.
“I can cover,” Markie replied.
“Well, if you find you can’t, I can help.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Again, thank you so much.” Pam took a napkin and picked up the pen from the table and scribbled directions, which were easy and within walking distance.
Markie still had ninety minutes before checkout at the bed and breakfast, so she decided to see the apartment first. If it would not work, she could spend another night at the B and B. She would check out the following day. Walking briskly up the hill, she reached it inside five minutes.
Her eyes grew wide. The house was huge! It was probably two hundred years old, but kept immaculate. Painted ivory white, the front porch was adorned with two smooth, round columns that held up a small roof placed well above the first floor. The solid mahogany door had to be ten feet tall, and stained glass sidelights were set on either side. There was an ornate door knocker placed about five feet up. Bronze in color, it was a lion’s head, the ring through the mouth. To protect the door was a metal plate at the strike.
Markie mounted the two steps to reach the porch and reached for the knocker. Just before touching it, she saw a button to the right. She pushed it instead. Beautiful, rich chimes rang, announcing her presence.
Mrs. Brown answered the doorbell. “You must be the girl Pam called about.”
“Yes. I’m Markie Stephan.” She was not aware Pam had called.
“Nice to meet you. Interesting name. I have a blouse designed by Markie Stephan. I can’t believe someone actually has the same name. I bet people mention that to you often.”
“All the time.” Markie grinned.
“Oh wait. That’s Markie Stevens. Silly me.”
“Still, the same first name. It’s not very popular.”
“You are right, there. Let me grab the key. We have to go around back. The stairs to the apartment are there.” She pulled a ring off the table in the hallway and stepped out, closing the door behind her.
They walked around the side, following a path of carefully placed flat slate rocks. The side of the house was even larger than the front. Markie marveled at the architecture. They reached the garage in the back and entered it. There was a set of stairs hugging the back wall, leading to a door at the top.
Mrs. Brown let Markie enter first. The door opened into the living room of a one-bedroom flat. She looked around, noticing the furnishings. The living room was just large enough for a red-and-gold striped couch, cheap laminated coffee table, and small particleboard entertainment center with a nineteen inch diagonal TV. A cable box was on the shelf underneath.
“We include cable with the rent,” Mrs. Brown mentioned. “Just the standard channels. We don’t have any of the movie channels. If you want anything more, we can get it and add it to your rent.”
“Standard is fine.”
A short hallway was directly across the room from the entrance. Markie started down it, stopping in front of the door to the left. She looked into the bathroom, which actually had a full tub. Instead of a curtain, it used a sliding frosted-glass door. The hall ended at the kitchen, which had all standard-sized main appliances squeezed into it, making it feel even smaller than it was. A double stainless-steel sink was in the middle of the only counter space, directly under a small window. Across from the counter was an oak veneer table only large enough for the two folding chairs, one on either side.
Next to the refrigerator was a door to the bedroom. A double bed without headboard was against the far corner. A six-foot wide reach-in closet was on the same wall as the bed. The only other window of the apartment was in the bedroom on the wall to the right. Overall, the apartment was cozy, but the price was definitely acceptable.
“I’ll take it,” said Markie.
“Wonderful.” Mrs. Brown smiled. “You can move right in. I’ll even throw in this week for free, bein’ you’re just starting your job.”
“That’s very generous of you, Mrs. Brown.”
“Laura.”
“Laura.” Markie returned her delighted look. “I need to go to Spangler’s and check out before I get charged another day. I’ll be back in about an hour.”
“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”