Fox Island (18 page)

Price’s hands and shoulders quaked as she
tried to keep her voice calm. “I’ll be praying for you to find joy
and peace in him.”

Barbara slammed the door shut. Price watched
in dismay as Mrs. Mason hiked to her car and churned up the
driveway. What had she done?

She shook all over as she tried to
understand why she said those things. Tony should have been here.
She just made a perfectly unhappy woman more miserable. She messed
everything up. Maybe she should stay home and teach summer school
next year. She was better with a whole class rather than one on
one.

A half hour later Melody crept back
into the house. Clad in white bermuda shorts and a yellow
embroidered blouse, Price sat at the kitchen table thumbing
through
Roget’s Thesaurus
and
several dictionaries.

“What are you doing, Dr. S.?”

“Looking for a word.”

“What word?”

“I’ll know it when I find it. Tony gets on a
kick of using the same word over and over in a book, and he expects
me to find a creative, dynamic synonym.”

“What’s the word this time?”

“Sylvan. Every other page mentions the
sylvan island this and the sylvan island that. But I’ve already
used up shady, wild, woodsy, pastoral, and provincial. I need
another expression to get the point across.”

Melody pried open the refrigerator and dug
through the vegetable drawer. She pulled out a bag of peeled baby
carrots. “Well, now you’ve seen my mother on one of her cranky
days. Did she get mad at you for criticizing my writing?”

“No, she was upset we’ve been agitating your
grandmother.”

“She said that?”

“I think she blames us for this latest bout
your grandmother’s going through.”

“But this is mainly over that guy,
Bennington. It has nothing to do with you. I was the one who told
her about him.”

“Well, your mom certainly thinks it’s our
fault. She said she doesn’t want us visiting your grandmother.”

“She’s just ticked. I’ll settle this down.
This is what she’s like when she’s tired of drinking and has had no
male companionship for a few days.”

“Here it is.” Price pointed to a thick book
bound in green imitation leather. “Arboreous: having many trees.”
She punched the word into the laptop, saved the document, then
shoved her chair back from the table. “I’m really sorry your mom
lives such a miserable life, Melody. When’s the last time she had
some fun? Other than alcohol and men?”

“She’s always been kind of a negative
person.”

“I don’t think I helped things much.”

“What did you tell her?”

“Basically, I told her to snap out of it
because God had a better plan for her life.”

“Really? Oh, wow! What did she say?”

“She said no one ever talked to her like
that and stomped out the door.”

“Don’t worry. Mom’s that way sometimes.
You’ve just got to leave her alone for a few days. She’ll think
about what you said, really. Mom’s a very thoughtful person. She
relives every word of every conversation. Besides, following up
with Bennington was my idea, not yours. I didn’t get a phone call
from Maryland, did I?” She crunched into the carrots.

“No.”

“It’s been a week since I talked to his
secretary. Do you think I ought to call back?”

“Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk to
anyone out here.”

“I know. I’ve been trying not to think about
that. I finally told Grandma about him leaving the flowers. That’s
probably what put her in a tizzy.”

“What did she say?”

“She looked at the picture of the flowers
you took, then glanced at the card and said, ‘Hah!’ and walked
away.”

“Hah?”

“Yeah, and when I pursued it, she went into
a tirade about how it wasn’t her fault the car crashed, that there
was nothing she could have done.”

“Maybe that’s what your mom was talking
about. Melody, I’m really sorry your mom was so upset. It leaves a
horrible knot in my stomach. I don’t know why I said those
things!”

“Hey, I’m going to Tacoma to clip some
coupons and shuffle some stocks, so I’ll stop by Mom’s on the way
home. Don’t worry. She’ll be all right. I’ll let you know how she
is.”

“Tell her I’m really sorry to have disturbed
both her and your grandmother.”

“Mom’s a good person, really. Life’s been
such a disappointment. First her father’s gone, then her husband.
It’s pretty hard not to blame yourself. She’s been lonely for so
long.”

“How about you, Melody?”

“Me? Lonely? Not really. I get along just
fine because I’ve never known anything else. This summer with you
and Mr. S. has been one of the most fun times of my life. Thanks
for letting me stay in the loft and bug you all the time. Did I
tell you I applied for a teaching job?”

“You did? Where?”

“At a school up in Bremerton. I think maybe
I’ve been too isolated the last few years to be a good writer.”

“What grade?”

“Junior high English. Isn’t that a
kick?”

“That would be a great experience for
you.”

“I knew you would say that. Anyway, they
have to let me know by August 15.”

“I’ll be praying for you.”

Melody bit her lip. “Thanks, Dr. S. I’m
beginning to count on your prayers.”

“Will you be home for supper?”

“Oh, I’ll nab a burger somewhere. You don’t
have to feed me, you know.”

Melody grabbed a handful of carrots, a big
bag of com chips, a Diet Dr. Pepper and scooted out the door.

Price completed a rewrite of the first six
pages of chapter seven and rummaged in the kitchen for something
for lunch when the telephone rang. “Shadowbrooks.”

“I need to speak with Melody Mason,” a
weak-voiced man replied.

“She’s not here. Can I take a message?”

“This is Lloyd Bennington. I was returning
her call.”

“Mr. Bennington? My husband met you when you
came out to Fox Island. Melody really needs to talk with you.”

“I’m afraid I’ve been a little under the
weather. This is the first day I’ve felt like doing anything.”

“Have you been ill?”

“Perhaps your husband mentioned I’m fighting
cancer. I just underwent some experimental treatments that
supposedly gave me a few more weeks to live. But the ordeal left me
so weak that quite frankly I don’t know if it was worth it. I don’t
want to sound brash, but do you happen to know why she was so
insistent on calling me?”

“I’ll try to fill you in. Jessica Davenport
Reynolds, that’s Melody’s grandmother, is having a difficult time
with your showing up after all these years. Especially the visit to
the house... and the flowers left at the grave. A psychologist at
the place where she stays suggested if you were in the area still,
it would be good to have you meet with Jessica one on one. Melody’s
worried about her grandmother, and was just tracking you down.”

“Oh... yes... well, I suppose it could help
her some. At least she could visualize who it is she should
hate.”

“Why do you think she hates you? Did you
even know her?”

“No, we’ve never met. But it was, well, a
long, long time ago. I’m afraid it was just on a lark that I flew
west. Very uncharacteristic of me. I don’t expect to feel well
enough to travel again. To tell the truth, Mrs. Shadowbrook, just
making it to the restroom is quite a chore.”

“I understand. I wonder if she might call
you when she gets home late this afternoon? I think that might help
Melody some.”

“It’s not that easy. By necessity, I keep my
number unlisted. I couldn’t give it out. I don’t mean to sound
secretive or snobbish, but I receive a lot of calls from people
thinking I should lend or give them money.”

“Could we set up a time tonight for you to
call back?”

“As long as she understands I might feel too
ill to do so. What time do you suggest?”

“How about 9:00 P.M. your time? That leaves
it 6:00 P.M. our time.”

“Yes, I’ll call her back. Good day, Mrs.
Shadowbrook.”

Tony came home for lunch, then drove up the
Kitsap Peninsula to Bangor for his scheduled submarine ride. Price
spent the afternoon at the keyboard trying to punch in a second
edit of chapter seven. The confrontation with Barbara Mason kept
going through her head.

After a walk along the shoreline, she called
Melody’s mother. She attempted an apology to a groggy-sounding
Barbara Mason and found out Melody left her mother’s headed back to
Fox Island at 3:00 P.M. Price walked up the steep driveway to the
road to watch for her car turning off Island Boulevard onto 3rd.
This would be a delightful time for Melody to show up. Bennington
would call soon.

The warm summer breeze made her think about
relaxing in the chaise lounge and sunbathing. She didn’t feel good
about the apology. Everything she did seemed to make the situation
worse. Why couldn’t she delete today and start all over again?

Price soaked boneless chicken strips in
marinade, fried them in canola oil and diced vegetables. She heard
a rap at the front door and hollered, “Come in, Melody, I’m in the
kitchen.”

A woman appeared, wearing cutoff blue jeans,
olive drab t-shirt and hiking boots. Her earthy brown hair hung in
a long, tapered braid down her back. A few wisps garnered her
bronzed forehead. Oversized dark glasses covered her eyes.

“Hello, Tulip. Forgive me for not coming to
the door. I thought you were Melody.”

“Here’s the deal.” Her thin lips shut tight
between each phrase, as though to conserve energy. “There is
absolutely no suitable location for the larger animals. According
to government studies, it would be psychologically damaging to
house any animal over seventy-four pounds in weight in any field
less than five acres. I called Cascade KidsCan Pet, Inc. and
instructed them that they might have to leave the larger animals at
their wholly inadequate and life-endangering compound.”

“I don’t suppose they were thrilled with
that idea?”

“They protested vigorously and demanded a
special community meeting. So, I’ve prepared this report to
take.”

“What’s in it?”

“If Cascade KidsCan Pet, Inc. does not
intend to abide by the site committee’s recommendations, then their
contract will be terminated. They threatened to sue, of course, but
think of the media attention we can get with a trial. I’m sure the
networks would pick it up.”

Price tried to guess how old the petite lady
was. A leathery tan face, a few deep wrinkles around her eyes, a
tad of gray in her hair, yet she had vitality in her actions and a
pixie cuteness in her face. She settled on fortyish.

“The committee hasn’t made any
recommendation, as far as I know,” Price pointed out.

“That’s the thing. I need you and Kenny
Mallard to sign on to this document. There’s a lot of legal jargon
in it, but you get the gist of things.”

“Has Harvey Peterson seen it?”

“Yes, he has.”

“And what did he say?”

Tulip yanked the sunglasses off and rubbed
her nose on the back of her arm. “You’re one of those born-again
Christians, aren’t you?”

Price crossed her arms in front of her. “Yes
I am. What in the world does that have to do with it?”

Ms. Tulip’s lips flashed in a sign of
amusement. “You don’t want me to repeat what Harvey said.”

“And you haven’t talked to Kenny?”

“Nobody’s seen Kenny. What about it? Are you
going to sign on or not?”

“No, I’m not.”

Tulip groaned a short croak of disgust.
“Yeah, I sort of figured that. You’re just one of those do-nothing
Christians who sit around in expensive churches isolating yourself
from the real world. It’s people like you that...”

Price’s right hand shot forward with the
determination of a junior high teacher scolding a hyperactive boy
in the back row. “Wait a minute. Don’t give me any of that
Christians lack compassion garbage. I donate every Tuesday evening
during the school year to teach English as a second language, free,
in southwest Phoenix. I serve as an emergency counselor for a
pregnancy counseling center. For eight years now, my family spends
every spring break building orphanages and hospitals in Mexico, not
to mention ten years as a Girl Scout leader, volunteer work at the
Union Gospel Mission, or summers teaching reading at the Navajo,
Hopi, Apache and Tohono O’Odham reservations.”

Tulip rubbed the edge of her mouth with her
fist, as though trying to erase it. “I was only trying to
say...”

“You were trying to enforce your own
political persuasion on someone else by guilt and inference. Lady,
it doesn’t work. If you want me to get excited about your cause,
why not work with street kids in Seattle? Or run a home for people
living with AIDS? Or volunteer to work for an adoptions agency so
unwanted babies end up in a loving home? But don’t you dare
question my faith because I don’t give a squat if a seventy-six
pound pig has a five-acre play yard or not.”

Tulip spun on her hiking boot heels and
stomped toward the door.

Tony stood there, eyes wide, mouth open.
“Goodbye, Tulip.” He held open the door.

“I don’t need some chauvinist, middle-aged
hunk to open doors for me,” she fumed.

Tulip drove up the driveway before Tony
turned to Price. “Was that an insult or a compliment?”

Tears swelled in Price’s eyes.

“Wow, honey, what’s wrong?”

“It’s been a lousy day.” She sniffled as she
grabbed a paper napkin.

“I heard your speech. I thought it was
great.”

“But,” she began, breathing deep to hold
back the sobs, “I spoke in anger. I don’t know why some days are
that way. I didn’t want to be this way. And it’s not the first time
today.”

“You had a run-in with Tulip earlier?”

“No, with Barbara Mason, Melody’s
mother.”