Whistlin' Dixie in a Nor'easter (42 page)

I started to speak and he waved his hand to stop me.

“Wait, let me finish. It’s just that I’m . . . sad you’re leaving. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long how special you are, and how beautiful I think you are, inside and out. I’ve never met anyone like you before, Leelee. And when I knew you would be leaving and going back home to Memphis, I started freaking out and I reacted like a jerk. I’m sorry.” He dropped his head and stared at the ground.

“It’s okay. I understand.” I reached out and touched him on the sleeve. “You’ve got to hear me on this. This has been a very hard decision for me. Oddly enough, I’ve grown to like it here. And I didn’t even realize it. When Ed presented me with an offer, I didn’t know what to do. I
agonized
over it, Peter.” A tear started rolling down my cheek. Then another and another.

He reached up, stroked my cheek, and wiped each tear away with his thumb. “Sweetheart, Vermont is not you. I know that. It wouldn’t be fair of me to expect you to stay here. I always knew you’d eventually leave. You told me the day you hired me that it wouldn’t last. I took that chance. I’m happy for the time I did spend with you.”

By now huge snowflakes were collecting all over us. I was dying to say: Peter, I’m the one that thinks you’re beautiful and you’re the nicest guy
I’ve
ever known. But I couldn’t say it. I don’t know why, I just couldn’t bring myself to say it. I was packed up and headed home.

The clumsy pause in our conversation grew longer. I wasn’t sure whether to say good-bye and get in the car or wait for him to continue.

“What’s in your CD player?” he asked, a random change of subject to say the least.

“I’m not sure, why?”

“Will you check for me?”

I opened the door, sat down inside, and turned up the volume. Only radio commercials—no CD in the player. I pushed on the eject button to make sure. “Nothing.”

“You must have your CDs in the car for the long trip, right?”

“Yeah, they’re right here.” I patted the case next to me.

“Good. Hop out a second. Hi, girls,” he said as he sat down in my seat.

What in the world is he up to?
I wondered. Peter fished through my CD case until he came to the one he wanted. He glanced at the label. I watched him push in the CD and skip through the tracks. He turned the heat on full blast, cranked up the volume, and rolled down the driver’s-side window. “You owe me a dance.” He stepped out of the car and reached for my hand.

“Right now?
Here?
”

“Right now, right here, right in front of everybody.” His mouth curved up and his eyes lit up his boyish face.

He ripped off his gloves and shoved them in his pocket. I wasn’t wearing any so when Peter took my hand in his, it felt nice and warm. He slipped his other arm into the back of my coat and gently pulled me toward him.

Van’s voice rang out loud and clear. Right in front of George Clark, my daughters, and all of Fairhope, Peter Owen and I slowly glided along with the music, underneath the cascading snow. This time no one stopped us. I buried my head in his chest and snuggled up next to him.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” He peered down at me a couple of minutes
into the song.
His smile kills me. His perfect teeth and perfect lips are intoxicating.

I gazed up at him for a moment and hesitated before saying anything. “I was wondering if you might visit me. It’ll be spring soon. Memphis is so pretty—”

He put his finger over my lips. “Do you
want
me to visit you?”

I nodded.

Peter let go of my hand and wrapped both of his arms around me. We danced in silence “and magnificently we floated into the mystic.”

I had never been so sorry to hear a song fade away.

“You better get your butt on the road, young lady. The weather’s not getting any better.” He patted my bottom and slowly pulled away.

No, don’t let me go. Let’s dance the next one and the one after that.
I was tempted to reach out for him again and pull him back toward me. I didn’t care who was watching. But the awkwardness returned and we stood there in silence. “I can’t say good-bye to you,” I finally said. “Let’s just say see you soon.”

He turned toward my car, opened the back door, and leaned in to kiss the girls’ cheeks. Then he turned to me. “See you soon, boss.” He drew me close and this time he kissed the top of my head. When I looked up at him he cradled my freezing-cold face in his hands. “I’ll miss you, and that’s another promise.” After beholding the thirst in my eyes, he leaned down and tenderly kissed my lips. “Trust me.”

I never took my eyes off of him as he walked to his truck and stepped inside.
Should I stop him? Go running after him? No, I’ve made my decision already. God, this is torture. My head is about to explode.

He backed up his truck and slowly inched his way out of the parking lot. Tears rolled down my face so fast and furious and all I had to wipe them on was my coat sleeve. I watched his car roll down the road until it disappeared.

Before I pulled onto the highway, I peeked back at the gas station in my rearview mirror. I could have sworn good ole George had a little skip in his step.

______

“How much longer?” Sarah asked, only thirty minutes into the trip.

“A lot longer,” I said.

“I’m bored,” Isabella cried.

“Me, too,” answered her sister.

“All right, y’all, we can’t start this early into the trip. Let’s play a car game.”

“Yay!” Issie squealed.

“Okay. Let’s play the animal game. Think of different kinds of animals that live in Vermont.”

“I call first,” Sarah yelled.

“No fair, I wanna be first.”

“Issie, going second is better, honey, just wait. Go ahead, Sarah.”

“How about a moose!”

“That’s what I was gonna say,” Isabella said, with a pout.

“Moose are only legends around here, anyway. It’s okay, Issie, now it’s your turn. Go ahead.”

She thought for a second but as hard as she tried she couldn’t come up with one. “You go next, Mommy.”

“Okay . . . how about a deer?”

“That’s a good one,” Sarah said. “Now you go, Issie.”

I could see Issie in the rearview mirror trying her best to come up with an animal. “I know,” she squealed, kicking her feet in her car seat. “Princess Grace!”

“Princess Grace? Oh my God. WE FORGOT PRINCESS GRACE KELLY!”

I swerved over to the shoulder, glanced quickly behind me to make sure the coast was clear, pulled a U-turn, and headed straight back to Willingham.

“But Gracie’s dead,” Sarah, the only one with any sense, exclaimed.

“No, she’s in heaven,” Isabella told her.

“Her spirit is in heaven but her body is still frozen under that ground! And she would never want to be left there without us.” It was completely
absurd, I realize that, but
still
. “People dig up bodies and move them all the time,” I said, glancing back at the girls. “Look at Elvis. He was dug up from Forest Hill Cemetery and moved to Graceland.”

“Who’s Elvis?” Sarah asked.

“
Who’s Elvis?
Another reason to go home. My own daughter doesn’t even know who Elvis is.”

Nor’easter or not, there was no way in hell I’d leave my precious Gracie in Vermont, as bad as she hated that state. My guilt would never allow me to leave her body there for the rest of eternity. What’s another three hundred dollars to dig her back up? Nothing, in the scheme of Gracie’s life, I rationalized.

So here we were, headed back down Route 12, thirty more minutes down the road in the
opposite
direction of Memphis. The whole way back to Willingham I kept thinking about Gracie and how I could have possibly left her behind. Then the most horrifying thought hit me. Jeb might guess wrong about her exact burial location and put that jackhammer right through her. “IT’S NOT WORTH IT!” I screamed.

“What’s not worth it?” Sarah asked.

“Renting the jackhammer.”

“Are we going to dig up Gracie?” she wanted to know.

“No, I’ve changed my mind. But we’re going back for her cross.”

When we drove back up to the inn at 8:30
A.M.
, I noticed the Peach Blossom Inn sign had fallen down. I made a mental note to hang it back up on my way back out of town but for now I was focused solely on Gracie. More new snow had accumulated in the hour and a half since we left. I pulled alongside the fence in front of the gate.

“I won’t be long,” I told the girls. “Wait for me in the apartment where it’s warm.”

“Is Roberta here?” Isabella wanted to know.

“I don’t see her car, but it’s okay, baby. I’ll be back in a second. Go on inside. Sarah, hold your sister’s hand, please.”

I parked in my regular spot behind the barn and ran in to grab a saucer
sled. The snow was really coming down now and the wind was blowing like a son of a gun. I hurried as fast as I could but it was quite a workout by the time I lifted my legs and high-stepped up to the top. What I really needed were snowshoes, but I had only found out about their existence a few weeks prior.

I spotted it right away. Only the top peeked out of the snow. I cleared away the powder from around it and tugged. It wouldn’t budge. As hard as I tried I couldn’t pull it up. By now the ground around it was, of course, frozen solid. All I could do was break off the stick and take the cross, so I pushed and pushed on it with my boot until I heard it snap.

Kneeling down over her for the last time, I bent down and kissed the snow. “I’m sorry, Gracie, but this is for the best. I couldn’t take a chance on Jeb cutting you in two. Please forgive me. You’ll always live in my heart no matter where you are.”

I sat down on the saucer, put Gracie’s tombstone in my lap, and grabbed the handles on either side. I scooted myself to the edge and leaned forward. Down the hill I flew, right into the base of the barn. I threw the sled inside, put the cross in my car, and ran back to the apartment.

“Sarah? Issie? Where are y’all?” I called from the base of the apartment steps. When they didn’t answer I started up the stairs. “Girls, it’s time to go. No hide-and-seek, please.”

They were nowhere to be found. Back down the steps I dashed and into the big kitchen. Again, I called their names. “Sarah, Isabella,
let’s go
.” They weren’t in there, either. I was beginning to get a little nervous but when I got to the dining room, I saw a chair pulled up in front of the fireplace. Atop were both of my daughters. Sarah was reaching up on the mantel and Isabella had something in her hand.

“What on earth are you two doing?”

Sarah picked up something small and instantly recognizable off the mantel. Issie played with a similar one, only larger.

“Look what we found. Helga’s hippos. She must have left them for us.”

There, spread out on top of the mantel of my Peach Blossom Inn, resided Helga Schloygin’s cherished hippopotamus collection—in its entirety.

It took a moment for the horror to sink in. “I’ll . . . be . . .
damned
!” I cried.

“Mama. You said not to cuss,” Sarah scolded.

“I sure did. But that rule does not apply to now. That double-crossing, no good, dirty rotten slimeball. Ed Baldwin, you duped me. And for the second time. I can’t believe it.” I paced around the room flailing my arms all over the place.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you worry about it, Sarah, everything’s going to be fine. No wonder the sign was gone.”

My first thoughts were about Pierre, Roberta, and Jeb. Peter was taken care of, but what about them? Did they know? Or worse, were they in on it?
No way
. Should I stop this sale? I could, no problem. But then what?

“Ughhhh, how could he
do
this to me?” I sat down at one of the tables to think for a moment, with my head in my hands and my heart blasting out of my chest. Helga was nowhere to be seen. I never once even considered that Helga and Rolf were the buyers. A death in the family . . . yeah, right. So, what was I supposed to do now? Stop the moving van somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania? Rent a storage unit in Memphis for my stuff and in the meantime move back in again with Helga’s horrible furnishings?

Then it occurred to me. Why on God’s green earth would I want to allow Helga Schloygin to occupy one more moment of space in my on-the-mend mind and heart? Sure, I could stop the sale, but why would I want to ever be around her again? I’d more than likely have to spend another year living here,
at least
, while I searched for another buyer. As much as I wanted to take care of Roberta, Jeb, and Pierre I knew it was not my responsibility. If I could survive—surely they could.

Roberta told me herself that she had learned to be a survivor from watching me. Jeb had plenty of work on his own, and any restaurant owner would be thrilled to hire Pierre. Peter already had a new job with a nice raise. As tempting as it was to change my mind and go running after him, something deeper tugged at my core.

I knew my heart’s desire all along. Even though I was a different person
now—how could I not be, I’d finally fled my cocoon and encountered life on its jagged edge—my heart never changed.

“Okay, girls, let’s go,” I said, rising up from the table. “Hurry, hurry.”

Sarah and Isabella jumped down off the chair, each still holding a hippo in her hand.

“Oh no, we won’t be taking those home with us. Hand ’em over.”

“But Helga left them for us. Can’t we just take one?” Sarah pleaded.

“Not even one.”

I took the would-be souvenirs from the girls and put them back on the mantel. “Scoot,” I said, and brushed them both on the fanny.

Sarah and Issie stomped out the door but quit their pouting once outside. Snow was falling faster than I’d seen it all season and they lifted their arms and spun around in circles.

If it hadn’t been for a dog howling in the distance, I would have never thought about it again. But as I glanced over my shoulder toward the sound, I noticed the barren pole where my Peach Blossom Inn sign once hung. It hadn’t fallen down like I originally thought. Someone had deliberately removed it. The question was: Where would she put it?