Secondhand Purses (14 page)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

After polishing off three quarters of the pizza, I started walking around the house, trying to get a feel for my new space. I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and started making a list.

One, clean. Thoroughly. It looked like I would need to dust and vacuum at the very least.

Suddenly, without expecting it I saw Nonna in my mind as she was the day I met her. She was standing outside beating the crap out of her rug.

I stood smiling for a moment, enjoying the memory, until I realized what this could very possibly mean. She was completely against vacuum cleaners back then, what if she hadn’t changed her mind on that?

I ran to the hall closet in a panic, pulled open the door and saw a brand new vacuum cleaner in the box. Taped to it was an envelope with my name written on it.

Odd.

I opened it up and sat down to read.

May 5, 2011 My dear Alex –

If you are reading this, it means that you are now where you belong, here with me. Only, I’ve had to move on. I know that you found my cleaning methods somewhat primitive, so here is a newfangled fancy cleaning machine just for you. Love you always, Nonna.

My cleaning list was forgotten as I read and re-read the note from her. It made me smile and cry all at the same time.

Suddenly, I remembered that there was another note.

‘Newfangled cleaning machine’ was abandoned as I ran for the paperwork the lawyer had given me.

Holding the small envelope in my hand I hesitated, both wanting and not wanting to know its contents at the same time.

Oh, Nonna. I wish you were here. I’d take you over this house, this vacuum cleaner and a letter any day of the week
. I sniffled. Yup, was getting way too overdramatic, which wasn’t like me at all. At least, not when I hadn’t had a shit ton of alcohol.

I gently opened the envelope, trying desperately to keep it as intact as possible. I pulled out two thin pieces of note paper, and started reading.

My dear Alex – I can picture you, leaning against the arm of the sofa, the way you always would when you came to visit. I used to yell at you then, and I assure you that I am yelling at you from above (or below, who knows). I used to imagine you here in this house with me, standing next to me in the kitchen as you would come up with your incredible ideas.

Every single recipe you sent me that you’d created I made. It was like we were baking together, except this time you were teaching me.

Sweet girl, you are my granddaughter. I have loved you as if you were my blood. Please don’t be sad that I have left this Earth, because as long as you are in this home, we will always be together.

I missed out on a lifelong dream by not following my heart. Perhaps you will be able to make our dreams a reality in this sweet little town that I’ve come to love.

Be happy, Alex. Find happiness, even if you find it in places you have walked away from. Embrace every moment and live without regrets.

I will always be your Nonna.

Oh God, it just hurt so badly. Why did I have to continue to feel this physical pain in my heart whenever I thought of her? She didn’t even seem mad at me for not coming to visit. And she gave me this beautiful house.

“Ah…choo.” Okay, this beautiful and incredibly dusty house. It was time to make it smell like cleaning products in here.

I vacuumed the house and dusted all wood surfaces. I even did the only thing that I knew would make her come and haunt me. I removed the plastic covers from the furniture. If it meant that they would finally age, so be it. I had opened up several windows to get fresh air in and it was getting pretty warm.

I started looking around for the thermostat to get the air conditioning kicked on. What I found was a round dial thing that had a switch for auto, heat and off. I took a picture of it and texted it to my dad.

“
Hey, Dad. Looking for the a/c, found this. What sort of archeological find have I made?”

I waited only seconds before his reply came through.

“
That would be your thermostat. Which controls the heat. Meaning, no a/c.”

What sort of sorcery was this? No air conditioning? This was crazy talk. I walked the perimeter of the house, looking for the vent in the floor that was commonplace in Georgia. I found absolutely nothing.

I pulled out the pad of paper and added to it:
buy air conditioners.

I wondered how old this house was. Hopefully the electricity was up to date, because I was not going to be nearly as low maintenance as Nonna was.

I yawned and was shocked at how exhausted I was. I looked at my phone, it was ten o’clock at night. Not the latest I’d ever been up, but it had been a long day.

I made my way to the bedroom I found upstairs, stopping by the hall closet to grab some fresh bedding. I assumed that whoever cleaned out the refrigerator would have also thought to change the bedding, but I wasn’t about to take any chances. Nonna died in that bed, I was not willing to lie down in dead old lady juju all night long. Even if I loved the woman, which I did, I was not about to be
tha
t close to her.

I had to admit, I was a little skeeved out to sleep on the same mattress that she died on. I may have to add a mattress to my list. Oh, and I needed to give asshat Lou my new address so he could send me my last check and vacation money. And I have to arrange to get the rest of my stuff up here.

I fell into a sound sleep with lists being created, sort of like counting sheep but much more effective.

***

I woke up feeling well rested but incredibly disoriented. I looked around trying to figure out where the hell I was. Slowly, piece by piece, yesterday came back to me. I looked at the little table to the right of the bed and saw a framed picture. Young Nonna smiled back at me from the frame, next to her first husband and love of her life, James. It seemed fitting, considering they were finally together again.

Before I could even start thinking about my lists of things to do and things to find, I needed sustenance. Specifically, dark black roasted sustenance poured into a mug. Surely there had to be a coffee shop somewhere around this town. I got in my car and drove around a bit until I found a sign that simply said ‘Coffee’. Well, ask and ye shall receive.

I stepped into a small shop that definitely screamed ‘beach’. I was starting to sense that this was a common theme around this area, based on the number of buoys and drift wood decorations I saw driving around. It seemed strange that there was no real name of this business, just the simple sign out front.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” The woman talking to me was probably in her forties, wearing a baseball cap and a green apron. I respected the early morning minimalist approach to dressing for work.

“Um, do you make café mochas?”

She grinned at me and pointed to the chalkboard behind her. On that chalk board was probably over thirty variations of the molten nectar of the gods. I actually moaned with pleasure.

“Oh, thank God.”

“New to the area?” She rested her forearms on the counter, leaning forward to talk to me. I was surprised she was engaging in conversation, everything I’d heard about people in Massachusetts was that they were as cold as their winters. ‘Massholes’, is what I believe I heard they affectionately refer to themselves as. I looked behind me and there was no line, so I guess it was okay to chat.

“Yeah, just moved in yesterday. It’s such a small community that I wasn’t sure there would be a decent coffee shop like cities have. Oh, shit, sorry, that was probably really condescending, wasn’t it?” I did a mental forehead slap. Seriously, sometimes I wondered if I was even moderately suitable to be around other people.

She just laughed.

“Well, everyone comes to the Cape for the ‘quaint’ feel, but they expect all modern conveniences.” She snarled out the word ‘quaint’, so I got the impression that although it was the look everyone wanted, no one who lived here appreciated the sentiment.

“I’m Cheryl, and this is my place.” She gestured proudly around the little coffee shop, smiling as her eyes passed by all of the little details that she had obviously carefully poured into the place.

“I’m Alex, great to meet you.” I reached forward to shake her hand.

She looked at me strangely, with her forehead all wrinkled up before her eyes popped open in realization of something.

“Oh my God, you’re Alex? Like, Nonna’s Alex? You came home, that’s wonderful, she would be so thrilled to know you came home.” She came around the counter to wrap me in a warm hug.

I was put off at first, I won’t lie. I had a thing about personal space, and this woman was all up in mine right now. But, what the hell, I relaxed. When you lived on your own, had no real friends and your parents lived a few hours away; personal touch was incredibly lacking. I forgot how nice a hug felt. That made me kind of pathetic.

“I can’t get over that everyone seems to know Nonna. And apparently everyone knows about me.”

“Well, of
course
everyone knows Nonna! She was incredible! Such an amazing person. Oh, and her cookies and pastries…” Cheryl’s eyes rolled as she groaned in appreciation.

“You should come over to the house. I found her freezer was stocked full of all sorts of fun stuff.” I had no idea what possessed me to offer that, but her eyes lit up immediately so I knew there was no backing out. Who knew, maybe I’d even manage to have fun and make a friend in the process.

“I might just take you up on that.”

She pushed back from the counter and started making my coffee.

“Hey, where’s the closest grocery store? There’s almost nothing at the house. Thankfully someone cleaned out the fridge after… well… just after.” I still wasn’t quite ready to say in so many words that she was dead. It just sounded so… final.

“Yeah, do you know where twenty eight is?” She tilted her head awaiting my answer.

“Twenty eight?” Was that the name of the grocery store chain? Or some other building or landmark?

“Yeah, route twenty eight?”

“Oh, okay, yeah. I was on it yesterday to go to Wareham for the lawyer.”

“Then you totally passed the grocery store. Just go back up twenty eight and you’ll see it in a plaza on the left.”

“Thanks. I was probably just a little distracted.”

“Totally understandable. So, have you had anything for breakfast?”

“Nope, pretty much rolled out of bed and came here.” I cringed, realizing that she probably thought I was all sorts of nasty and dirty.

I was surprised when she started laughing.

“Girl, sometimes that is how I start my mornings before coming in here, too. Hold on, let me get you a muffin, too. You are going to need your strength if you are facing a marathon shopping day today.”

“Thanks, how did you know it would be marathon?” It totally would.

“Well, first off, I’ve been in her house. There is no air conditioning. She didn’t believe in it, thought it would cause cancer or something crazy like that. Second, I’m imagining you would want a new mattress, well, considering.”

My mouth gaped open. Seriously, how had this person read my mind? She started laughing at me.

“Third, when you are holding that to-do list that I can read off of, it’s easy to see you have a long day ahead of you.” I looked down and saw the list I was carrying was easily visible to anyone. I chuckled, unable to believe she got me so good.

“You had me, good one. Holy crap I was about to ask you for the lottery numbers.”

“Ask away, sweetie. I’ll never tell.” She winked as she pushed my coffee and cranberry muffin towards me.

“How much?” I held out my wallet and a handful of bills.

“Nah, first one is on the house. I’m super happy you came up here and want to make sure you like it enough to stay. It’s what she would have wanted.” She hurried that last part in as I raised an eyebrow to her weird statement about wanting me to stay.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Whew.

I sat back on my knees after scrubbing the floor for the last forty five minutes, and wiped my brow. Thank God the air conditioning unit I got was working, but damn, I still worked up a sweat doing manual labor.

I looked around my little house, satisfied to see the progress that had been made in cleaning it. I’d been working pretty much nonstop for the past three days, and the difference was incredible.

The rest of my stuff from Atlanta should be arriving in another couple days or so. That would go a long way to making me feel like I lived here. I was still discovering the nooks and crannies of this cool little house. Yesterday, I had decided to sort out the pantry. When I opened it up I saw a flash of baby pink, polka dots and ruffles. I just started smiling as I pulled my old apron off of the hook and tied it around my neck and waist. Out of habit, I put my hands the side pockets, only to find a piece of paper in there.

I pulled it out and smiled to see another envelope with my name written on it in Nonna’s handwriting.

I hoisted myself up on the counter and opened the envelope.

My dear Alex – I see you found your apron. I wondered how many days it would take you to find it. Please tell me you aren’t sitting on the counter as you are reading this. You are, aren’t you? You always did sit up there whenever you were reading something. You may have been surprised to find your apron hanging up in the pantry, like it used to in the Providence house.

I knew you’d be back some day, and whether or not I was there physically to see it, I would always be with you spiritually. So I had to be ready for you to start baking. If you aren’t planning to bake anything today, please put it away and use it only once you are ready to start baking again.

Huh.

At least her notes weren’t turning me into a complete puddle of tears and emotion anymore. Sniffle. Okay, well, not completely. I put the note back in the pocket, and slowly untied the apron, and put it back in the closet. It wasn’t time, yet. But maybe it would be soon.

I stretched, groaning in appreciation of all the tension in my muscles being relieved at once. Looking around the kitchen, I tried to figure out the answer to the question,
what now?

Suddenly I had a flashback to the kitchen in Providence, our first baking lesson when we made the zeppole for dinner.

“So what now?”

Huh.

I had no idea how much that little question would lead to. What now?

I remembered the rusted old nasty recipe box. I know that just yesterday I had said that it wasn’t time yet, that I wasn’t ready to start baking here. But suddenly I had an intense desire, no… a
need
to make a batch of zeppole with ricotta filling.

Everything in this kitchen was set out the way I remembered from Providence. So where was the recipe box? I closed my eyes to picture Nonna moving effortlessly around the kitchen and saw her heading for the pantry. I smiled and opened the door, and felt around the top shelf until my fingertips encountered the ancient box.

I pulled it out and flipped to the back under the letter Z. I held up the card with ‘Zeppole’ written at the top and held it above my head victoriously, jumping up and down as if I’d just won some sort of trophy.

I wasn’t sure I had all the ingredients I needed. I certainly didn’t have any ricotta. I pulled out my ever present pad of paper and started making a grocery list. I ran through the ingredients and double checked.

I ran my fingers over the family recipe that had been passed down through generations, imagining the women who first started making the delicious treat back in Naples.

Something seemed strange, and it broke through my mental side trip to the old country. I ran my fingers over the words again and again until I figured it out. The letters were raised, not indented like they should have been. What the heck?

I flipped the card over and found words from Nonna again.

How did I know this would be your first choice? The first recipe we made together. I still remember you, all defiant and trying so hard to not care about the world, but caring all the same. Do you remember how I told you I had saved money for my bakery, but my dream was interrupted? Go down to the Onset Savings and Loan in town. My account number is 9961384. You are on the account already. Everything in that account is yours. It’s time to make this dream a reality.

Holy crap, she’d left me money, too? I had no idea of how to even start to process this. I thought of all the crimping she had done back in the 1940s wanting to start her bakery. I didn’t imagine there was probably very much money in the account. I mean, it wasn’t like people made very much back then, and with her love of thrift stores and secondhand purses, she couldn’t have much in savings.

But what a cool thought, right? To still have that dream held onto for all those years, and not give up on it.

I would have killed for wi-fi and a laptop right now, so I could log in to the bank online. I finished up my grocery list and grabbed the recipe card so that I’d have the account number when I got to the bank.

I looked at myself in the mirror before heading out the door. That turned out to be a smart thing to do, because I looked as if I had become the dust bunnies that I had been working so diligently to vacate from the house. I ran upstairs for a quick shower and change of clothes, opting for jeans, a t-shirt and a pair of flip flops.

I drove downtown to the Onset Savings and Loan, which was like a total throwback to the turn of the century. Then again, just about everything was. These Massachusetts people really seemed to be big on preserving their history. So many houses I passed by had the date the house was built proudly displayed on the front, and the vast majority were late eighteen hundreds. I thought it was kind of weird, but also pretty darned cool.

I walked in to the bank, and was surprised at how modern it was on the inside. It was like walking through some strange sort of time warp where one minute I was in the Victorian era and suddenly WHAM, back in 2015. I decided to wait for a client manager instead of the teller, because I really wasn’t sure if they were going to buy this story. I mean, really, it was totally unbelievable, right?

“
So, I was going through my adopted grandmother’s recipe box, and found a note with an account number. How much money do I have?”
Yeah, that was all kinds of crazy.

“May I help you?” An older guy in a suit was standing in front of me, looking as if he should be confused about the woman sitting in his lobby talking to herself. For about five seconds I thought it would be funny to start drooling and scratching behind my ear, just to see what his reaction would be, but I thought better of it.

“Yeah, sorry, was in my head for a moment. Apparently I have an account here, set up by my grandmother, and I was told I should come down and meet with you guys.” That was pretty much true. I had decided it was easier just to go with the flow and call her my grandmother instead of trying to explain the relationship.

“Sure thing, follow me.” We walked into a small but really comfortable office where he motioned towards the two club chairs before lowering himself into his own seat.

“Please, make yourself comfortable.”

“Thanks.” I chose the seat closest to the door in case I needed to make a break for it, like, if this was some sort of huge scam. Or worse yet, what if Nonna had hidden a criminal past and this was drug money or blood money or worse?

“So, what is the account number you were given.”

I reached into my purse and pulled out the recipe card, turning it over to recite the numbers back to him.

“Wait a minute, are you Alex? Nonna’s Alex?” He reached forward for the recipe card, turning it over to see what was on the front before returning it to me.

“Um, yeah?” Maybe I should just start introducing myself as ‘Nonna’s Alex.’ It seemed to be my new name in this town.

“Why didn’t you say so?” He started typing into his computer rapidly, smiling to himself as he worked away.

“I guess I didn’t know it would make a difference.” Apparently, dropping Nonna’s name was like the VIP pass into the ins and outs of this town.

“Okay, so we are going to get you a log in, what’s your email address so that the information can be sent to you?”

I recited my email address to him.

“Do you have internet access at the cottage? Last I knew, Nonna was against all forms of electronic communication. She was convinced it stunted brain development and led to Alzheimer’s. I used to think the woman was a little batty, but she lived to ninety seven and was as sharp as ever when she passed. Joke was on me.”

I had to shake my head a little to sort out the sharp staccato speaking pattern that moved so much more quickly than I was used to.

“No internet, no wi-fi. It’s like the nineteen fifties threw up in there. Hopefully I’ll be able to get some electronic upgrade pretty soon.”

“The coffee shop in town is a good place to go for free wi-fi. Cheryl was one of the first businesses in town that thought it would be a great idea to offer that to customers. Smart woman, that Cheryl.” He blushed a little bit as he complimented the very sweet coffee shop owner. She seemed a little too young for him, but hey who was I to stand in the way of love. Perhaps a little matchmaking was in order? I mentally crossed that thought out. I had too much on my plate as it was. But still, hmm.

“Thanks, I’ll try that.” I felt a little bad that I’d set up an account with one of their competitors, but maybe it wouldn’t be that bad of an idea to keep the two accounts separate.

I stood up and reached to shake his hand.

“Thanks for coming in today, Ms. Edwards. We look forward to helping you in any way you need. Oh, don’t forget your account information.” He picked up a small stack of paperwork and put it into a folder, and then handed it to me.

“Yeah, thanks.” I replied dumbly. As I walked out I opened the folder and stopped short. No way. No freaking way. This was a type-o, a mistake, a sick game, something.

I turned back around and looked at him with a ton of confusion and question in my eyes. He was leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head.

“Yes, Ms. Edwards?”

“Is this some type of sick joke?”

He sat up abruptly.

“No, why would you say that?”

“Did you look at the balance?”

“Well, of course I did. I worked with Nonna personally for her financial management.” His chest puffed up with pride.

“But, there’s over five hundred thousand dollars in this account.”

“Looks like it’s time to make a dream a reality.”

I was weaving a little and very unsteady. I had never fainted before, but I had a feeling that today could be the day.

“Ms. Edwards? Alex? Are you okay?” He walked forward and put a hand on my arm. I just stared at him, not really seeing anything but that account balance that was seared into my brain.

“I guess it might be time.”