Halversham (10 page)

“Doesn’t matter why. It was a cruel thing to do.”

“You’re right. It was,” she said, averting her eyes. “I’m feeling a little light-headed. I’m going to go and rest for a minute. Can you help yourself while I lie down?”

“Of course.”

“Oh, and there are no orders for tomorrow, so you don’t have to come early.”

“Sure. Have a good rest, Aunt Magda.”

Andy woke up the next morning feeling fresh. The sun was out but the weather was mild as usual. A cool breeze was swaying the curtains, carrying with it the fertile smell of soil. Since Aunt Magda didn’t need him that morning, he’d stay home and spend some time with his friend Mort, whom he hadn’t talked to for the past couple of days. It’d be fun, especially while tending to his mother’s beloved herb garden. He took a shower, dressed, and went to the kitchen to find Piffy pouring coffee into a mug.

“Good morning, Piffy.”

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“I did. What’s for breakfast?”

“Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing,” she said, smiling. “So, what’ll it be? What would you like me to cook?”

Andy poured himself a cup of coffee and took a sip. The caffeine cranked his brain and sent signals for omelets, bacon, sausage, toast, and orange juice.

“One order coming right up,” Piffy said, and got busy cracking eggs, squeezing oranges, and popping bread in the toaster. Mort’s head bobbed up and down outside the window as he hacked at the soil, and Andy sat enjoying the rhythm. Within fifteen minutes, Piffy had everything ready and he was ecstatic when the plate arrived. “Will you be having dinner here tonight?” she asked.

“Yeah. I’ll be spending the day with Mort in the garden.”

“That’s wonderful. I’ll prepare lunch as well, then.”

“Great. What if the three of us had lunch together?”

“Well…” Piffy hesitated. “I’m not sure your Aunt Magda would appreciate that, Andy.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

“Very well, then. We’ll all have lunch together,” she said, retreating to the kitchen.

Andy finished his breakfast in exactly ten minutes. It wasn’t as amazing as Aunt Magda’s, but it was good and he was hungry. He piled up the dirty plates and left them in the sink before heading out to see Mort, bouncing down the steps. He inhaled the sweet smell of roses as Mort continued digging.

“Good morning.”

Mort turned around and smiled. “Good morning, boy. How are you today?”

“I’m good.” Mort went back to shoveling. “Would you mind if I stayed and helped you here today? Just like my mom used to?”

“Of course. I remember how much your mother enjoyed taking you to the garden.” Mort paused again and rested his arms on the shovel handle. “In fact, I was just thinking an extra pair of strong hands could help bring down those two firs.”

Andy glanced at the trees Mort pointed to. “Why? What’s wrong with them?”

“They’re dying. See the tops turning brown?”

“Oh yeah, I see it.”

“Plus, I want to free up the space for a maple sapling I got recently. Just to add some color to the place during fall.”

Andy nodded.

“So, where’s the chainsaw?”

“Easy, tiger. I need to dig up this soil here to plant some lavender before we’re too far into summer. Why don’t you help me get the seedlings from the nursery there?” Mort pointed his chin at a small shed a few yards away. “They’re in black pot bags, arranged in a cardboard box. Bring the whole box out here.” Andy nodded and jogged over to the shed.

Inside, a number of orchids hung in pots with colorful blooms exploding from long stalks. A few maple saplings were arranged on the floor next to a row of pots with some seed or another still germinating. To the right was a table, and Andy found what he was looking for on it. He grabbed the box and headed out.

Mort had just finished tilling the soil when Andy reappeared.

“Mort, I need to ask you something.”

“What?” Mort set the shovel aside and wiped his forehead.

“Well, when we were talking the other day, you said strange things happened here. What did you mean by that?”

Mort picked up a black bag, tore open the side, and removed the plant and soil carefully to make sure they remained intact.

“Every season, I plant something new, or at least clear the dead plants. You’ll be surprised how many of them die despite tender loving care. In fact, a good number of what your mother originally planted has died. It rips my heart open every time I see one go, though it’s not unusual. But there was one time, everything I planted back there,” Mort said, pointing toward a patch of soil further toward the back, “was gone. Just uprooted and gone. Like a pack of dogs came and dug up my garden. Only difference is, they didn’t leave the plants behind.”

“That’s weird.”

“That it is, my boy. It might be nothing, but I care about these plants. Your mother wanted me to look after them.”

“Of course.”

Mort transferred the lavender seedling into a hole he had dug in a raised bed and tapped soil around it.

“Did you find out what happened?” Andy asked.

“No. It happened a few times, and after that it just stopped mysteriously. Why don’t you plant the next one in that hole?”

“Sure.” Andy did exactly as Mort had shown him, and had the next seedling planted in no time. Both men continued until all the seedlings had been transferred and watered.

“See that area over there?” Mort asked, pointing at some bushes by the roses when they were done. Andy nodded. “Those roses used to be your mother’s favorite."

“Yeah. I remember how she used to pick the best of them in the mornings and place them on the altar.”

“It pains me to see how much the weeds have started taking over. I wasn’t well for the better part of spring, so the place is somewhat neglected.” Mort looked out at the bushes and his eyes narrowed. “Time to get it all cleaned up.”

“What happened? Why weren’t you well?”

“Oh, I had a temperature and the flu,” Mort said, his eyes widening. “Drank my herbal tea every single day and…”

“You didn’t go to the doctor?” Andy cut in.

“Of course not! Every sickness can be cured with herbs and natural remedies.”

Andy smiled. “No wonder you and my mother got along so well.” He shook his head.

“Of course. Look at me now,” Mort said, puffing out his chest and beating it with the palm of his hand. “Strong as a horse.” Andy chuckled. “Come on, boy. Let’s get weeding.”

Mort brought the tools out and the two of them sat pulling, digging, and piling up weeds for a good one hour. When the sun was high, both of them wiped the sweat from their brows and paused to admire their handiwork.

“Tomorrow, I’ll prune those rose bushes and pull out the dead ones. That should free up space for some pink bourbons I got from the nursery two weeks ago.”

“I’m sure Mom would love that, Mort. Thanks for keeping things just the way she liked.” Mort smiled. “Why don’t you come in and join Piffy and me for lunch, and we can come back later to saw those firs?”

“You’re up to it? Or is it too much for you in one day?” Mort chuckled teasingly.

“Nah, easy stuff.” The two headed for the house and Andy placed his hand across Mort’s shoulders. “Besides, you’re getting old. You need my help.” Andy winked.

“Who are you calling old?” Mort pulled away and glared. Andy laughed as the old man elbowed him playfully.

The delicious smell of pot roast rose from the kitchen and Andy’s stomach grumbled as soon as he got a whiff of it. Piffy was slicing some tomatoes for the salad, but paused when she heard the two of them laughing at the back door.

“I hope you two have worked up an appetite for pot roast,” Piffy said.

“You bet we have,” Mort said.

“Good. Now go get yourselves cleaned up and we can all sit down for lunch.” They did as instructed and returned within minutes to an array of dishes on the table: pot roast, baked potato, green salad, bread, and carrot juice. “There’s dessert as well so save some space.” The gentlemen nodded, but piled their plates up with everything on the table nevertheless. Twenty minutes later, they sat belching while Piffy went to get cheesecake from the kitchen.

“Strawberry cheesecake! It’s my favorite,” Andy said.

Piffy smiled and served them each a slice.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have cooked so much, Piffy. You’re ruining me.” Mort groaned.

“I didn’t cook them for you, Mort. I did it for Andy here, but of course, you helped yourself without restraint.”

“You did the same. One of these days, your behind is going to get stuck in the back door and I’ll have to come wedge you out with a crowbar,” Mort teased, and they laughed. For the first time since arriving in Halversham, Andy was grateful for a normal meal with normal people. Mort belched and said, “Your lunch is making me all languid and sleepy-eyed.”

“It’s your own fault,” Piffy said in a singsong, rising to clear the table.

A moment later, Mort and Andy were back in the garden, ready to fell the rotting firs. Mort brought his chainsaw to life, and as if on cue, Piffy’s voice rose from the kitchen. They glanced at the back door in unison and Mort turned the chainsaw off when Piffy’s voice failed to rise above it.

“Andy! You have a visitor. Come on,” she said.

Mort rolled his eyes and lowered his chainsaw.

“Despair not, Mort. I’ll be back in no time.”

Andy jogged back into the kitchen, where Piffy was washing the dishes.

“She’s waiting in the hall.”

She? Andy’s heartbeat rose steadily as he headed for the hall to meet his female visitor. She was standing with her arms folded, staring at his parents’ wedding photo on the wall. Her brown sling bag rested on her side and she turned when she caught a glimpse of Andy from the corner of her eye.

“They were beautiful together,” she said.

“Yes, they were. What are you doing here?”

Corrine let her hands slide down her sides and for a minute, Andy thought she was about to cry.

“Nothing. I just… I just came to talk to you. Since you didn’t come to my secret place yesterday, I figured you’re probably still mad at me. So I came to apologize. For what I did.”

Corrine raised a shoulder, looking sufficiently remorseful. Above all, she was skinny, untidy, and clearly famished.

“Wait here a second,” Andy said. “I’ll be right back.”

He went back to the garden and told Mort he’d be longer than expected. “Sorry, Mort. It’s my cousin. Can we do it tomorrow morning?”

“Sure. Don’t worry about it.”

Andy went back in. Corrine was standing in the exact same spot. “Have you had lunch?” Andy asked, and she shook her head. “Come with me,” he said, leading the way to the dining room. “Piffy made pot roast. Would you like some?”

“Sure.”

The housekeeper had just finished washing all the dishes when they walked in.

“Take a seat,” he said to Corrine and she did. And then to Piffy, “Corrine hasn’t had lunch yet.”

“Want me to set the food out? I just stored the leftovers in the fridge a minute ago.”

“No, that’s okay. You can go about your work. I’ll get it myself.”

Piffy dried her hands on a towel and left to do the laundry, leaving them alone in the dining room. Andy opened the fridge, took everything out, filled up a plate, and thrust it into the microwave while Corrine watched silently. By the time the microwave beeped, he had stored the rest back in the fridge. He removed the plate and set it in front of Corrine.

“Thanks,” Corrine said and reached out for the fork and knife he handed her. She adjusted her seat and began eating, slowly at first, and then picking up speed. It was obvious she hadn’t had a decent meal in a long time, and it explained her bony structure. But as far as Andy was concerned, it was her own fault for being at war with her mother. Corrine’s head was bent and she didn’t look up until every morsel of food was gone. He gave her a slice of the cheesecake and she polished that off too.

“Piffy is a fantastic cook,” she said.

Andy lowered his voice. “You’re not going to like this, but Aunt Magda is way better and you know it.”

“Whatever,” she said, licking her fork before setting it down. Andy picked up the empty plates and left them in the sink. “Come on, let’s go to my room,” he said and Corrine grinned naughtily. “Don’t get any ideas, Corrine. You said you wanted to apologize so I’m giving you a private place to do it. Or I can make you stand here and apologize in front of Piffy, Mort, and me,” Andy said, folding his arms. “So, what’s it going to be?”

“Let’s go to your room.”

Andy led the way and opened a door to the right at the end of the hallway. Corrine stepped in and looked around. His mother had hung a few oil paintings and Andy’s photo on the wall years ago, and no one had moved them over the years. The ceiling was high, and there was a walk-in closet, a leather-backed chair, a desk with a computer on it, and a large four-poster bed with a plush mattress and pillows. A few bean bags were scattered across the floor, and it gave the room a nice cozy feeling. Although it wasn’t much compared to his room in the city, it wasn’t bad either.

“Nice room,” she said, looking up at the paintings on the wall. “Much better than mine.”

“You said you wanted to apologize.”

“Yeah.” Corrine took a deep breath, looked into his eyes, and swallowed. “I’m sorry about the rabbit and everything. I shouldn’t have made you go through that. I’m sorry I made your first visit to my secret lair a horrible experience,” she said, twiddling her thumbs.