Spring at the Barncastle Page 2

  Marin repeated the number, and Sadie scribbled it on the pad.

  “Yes, I’ll call him.” Her heart beat a little faster at her words.

  **

  Suppertime, and Peter decided to play the cool dad part for once and ordered pizza from town, delivery, no less.

  He lit a fire in the kitchen fireplace and another in the wood stove in the living room. The house would be toasty tonight. He tried not to think of Kate, but the thoughts intruded anyway. She wasn’t fond of fires, or wood smoke, either. He smiled at the idea of her objections to heating the home with wood. But heating oil was expensive and he hadn’t had the chance to get the furnace tuned up like he’d hoped before winter.

  Marin sat at the massive wooden farm table where Peter had consumed thousands of meals while growing up. Today, his budding artist’s choice of media was oil paint sticks. She hummed again, the tones of her young voice reminding him of Kate.

  “I’m almost done with this one, Dad,” she said, looking up from her work. “It’s the forest, with all the bare maple trees and the white birch.” She squinted at the photo next to her paper on the table.

  “Lots of browns and blacks, huh?” He moved to her side and looked over her shoulder at the photo and her project.

  Whoever had thought of oil paint sticks was a genius. One day, Marin would likely graduate to more messy art projects but for now this was enough. He never realized art supplies cost so much, and she already mentioned she wanted to attend an exclusive summer fine arts camp at Dartmouth College.

  “What are those green spots?”

  “New life, Dad. It’s almost spring, so I’m putting in places where green is starting to grow again.”

  “It’s not in the photo, though.” He tried not to smile at her artistic license.

  “But spring is here; I know those colors are out there, the flowers are coming too, even if we can’t see them.”

  Ah, the faith of a child.

  He kissed her on the top of her head. “You go right ahead and put them in.”

  His phone buzzed and skittered across the kitchen counter, so he went to pick it up. He didn’t recognize the number.

  “This is Peter Appleman.”

  “Hi, this is Sadie. Sadie Barncastle. How are you this evening?” Her voice sounded pleasant, professional.

  “I’m doing well. But how’s your ankle?”

  “Sore, swollen. I don’t think it’s broken, though. Probably just a sprain.” She fell silent and he waited for her to continue. “Anyway, I’m calling to say thanks for letting Marin help today. She’s a good worker. I was wondering if she could help tomorrow afternoon, perhaps after church?”

  “Uh, I think that will be okay.” He looked over at his daughter. “Marin, would you like to help Sadie at the shop tomorrow?”

  “Oh, yes, yes!” Marin grinned. “I told her she could call you.”

  “Evidently so.” He smiled before turning away, studying the sugar house outlined in the dark. Work awaited him tonight, while the sap flow had slowed with temperatures plummeting to near freezing.

  “Good!” Sadie said in his ear. “I know it’s Sunday, but I’m feeling a time crunch here and this latest thing with my ankle isn’t helping matters much.”

  “Would you like to come for supper tomorrow night?” The words slid out before he could stop them.

  “Um, sure. Should I bring anything?”

  “Just yourself, and your appetite. It’s only beef stew, but I have it on good authority that mine is ‘epic,’ or so I’ve heard.”

  “It’s really good!” Marin bellowed across the room.

  Sadie laughed.

  “Is that a yes?” he asked.

  “Of course. What time?”

  “Call me when you’re done with the shop for the afternoon, and I’ll pick you both up.”

  “That sounds like a plan…um, Peter, since I have you on the phone, there’s something I should tell you. For the record.”

  “It sounds serious.” He glanced at Marin, before pushing through the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the front living room. He shivered as he entered the room; the warmth from the fire hadn’t taken the chill off just yet.

  “Yes, kind of. I just want to say, when I met you earlier today, I remembered you from back when we were kids.”

  “I remembered, as soon as you told me your name.”

  “Look, I remember how much of a pill I was back then. I was an only child, I was desperate for friends. The more I talked, the more people listened. The wittier, the snarkier, the better. And sometimes, the negative attention was better than none at all…so, um, I’m sorry for how I treated you. And others. Please, I hope you’ve forgiven me, or will. Or maybe you haven’t thought of me at all these years, and I’m blowing this into more than it really is.”

  He let her words tumble from the phone and into his ear. No, he hadn’t thought of her much. He’d done his best to forget the annual visit from Big Mouth Sadie every summer. Until now, he’d put her out of his mind. Since this morning, he’d found that hard to do.

  “Sadie, I know I’ve done and said things, both as a kid and as an adult, that I was sorry for. So, who am I to not forgive you? Of course I do. So, let’s go on from here, as new friends from the old days.”

  “Good. I like that, ‘new friends from the old days.’ I like it a lot.”

  “So, you can expect Marin around one tomorrow. And how ‘bout if I pick you both up around five?”

  “That’s fine. Thanks, Peter. I’m looking forward to it.”

  They ended the call, and the room felt warmer to him.

  It wasn’t a date. It was simply supper tomorrow, a way to start anew. If he hadn’t known her before, she’d have intrigued him anyway. Peter thought back to his revived memory of her—shades of Jodie Foster from the vintage movie Freaky Friday, blonde and boisterous, a bit on the tomboy side, rough ‘n tumble, as Mom would say. If his mother could only see Sadie now—

  The vision of her smile and snappy brown eyes followed him back into the kitchen. That night, he knew he’d be thinking about her again.

  Chapter 3

  Sadie’s eyelids drooped. A Sunday afternoon nap sounded nice, but there was too much to do today. The family had gathered in the private living room at the inn, really a glorified nook at the bottom of the back staircase, near what was once the servants’ quarters.

  “So, the schedule for Easter week—” Luke began.

  “You mean Resurrection Sunday week, or Holy Week,” Andy interjected. Sadie smiled.

  “Easter week is just easier to say, Andy,” Jayne said. “Go on, Honey.”

  After a firm look from his father, Andy sank down deeper into the loveseat cushion, if that were possible. Andy, a smart kid, occasionally ventured into the ornery and mischievous, and always had an opinion. Sadie could relate. No one knew unless the family told them that Andy wasn’t Jayne’s biological son. Their family had blended well over the years.

  Sadie had comfortably settled herself on a chair they’d fetched from the now-empty dining room, her ankle wrapped in an Ace bandage and propped up on the ottoman. Luke brought up an old set of crutches from the basement. She held her notepad, but glanced at her phone for the time. Marin was due to arrive any moment.

  “As I said, here’s our schedule. We have a family of twelve total coming for an ‘Easter Parade’ theme during the week of Easter, complete with classic costumes and Easter bonnets. They arrive next Monday and will leave Easter Sunday evening. For the lineup, we’ll have crafts for the children, cooking classes and local tours for the grownups.” Luke paused for a moment. “But what I’m most excited about are the services we’re going to have later on in the week—all of those events will be open to the community, whoever would like to come. Thursday night, a last supper. Then an evening Good Friday service, patterned after an old medieval order of service. On Sunday morning, we’re going to take a sunrise hike to something special by the pond and have a simple service th
ere, followed by brunch at the house.”

  “What’s that?” Jayne asked. “You didn’t tell me you were working on something special by the pond.” She nudged him with her elbow.

  “It’s a prayer garden, in honor of your mother.” Luke brushed his fingers along his wife’s cheek. “I wanted it to be a surprise, but I couldn’t wait to tell you. A Brattleboro artisan who works in iron built us an eight-foot cross that I had mounted near the shore. Well, there’s more, but I’d rather show you all than tell you, once we’re done here.”

  Sadie’s heart swelled. A place to pray, to remember Auntie. And now, watching Jayne and her husband’s obvious affection for each other, she forced herself to look at her notes. So what if it was an informal family chat? She wanted to take notes, to remember it all.

  When she moved in with Jayne and Luke, she promised to help them as much as she could. Besides being chief of operations at the inn, Jayne had her hands full with Andy and young Hank, who looked so much like his father. One day, Sadie wanted to follow in Jayne’s footsteps—help run a successful business, and have a family to nurture and love. Right now, she had nothing except the kindness of her family. No one from Boston had called her recently. A few friends from church and her former coworkers had kept in touch sporadically, but Sadie had learned out of sight, out of mind. Relationships, even friendships, took work.

  Oh, Lord, I feel like a ‘hot mess’ right now, as Jessica would say. She hadn’t heard from her old friend who lived in Methuen in over a week. When Sadie had called her Friday after work, Jessica was on her way out the door. A date, she’d said. It was getting serious, she’d also said.

  Nothing serious for Sadie right now, though. Nothing remotely on the horizon. It was just as well, because right now she had enough to do, trying to turn her upended world right side up again. In rural Vermont, of all places.

  She sketched a tree in the border of her notes, and next to it drew a simple cross. God, if You’re using all this to get my attention, it’s working.

  Of course, it was her own fault her world had gone topsy-turvy anyway. No blaming God about it. But surely, somehow, He’d show her a clear solution with the mess she’d made of her career.

  “Do you mind covering that for the weekend, Sadie?” Jayne was saying.

  Sadie shook her head. “I’m sorry, what did you just ask?”

  “We need some extra hands with kitchen detail and brunch prep on the weekend.”

  “Oh, of course.”

  “We were thinking you could help, if your ankle isn’t cooperating and you can’t make the hike on Easter Sunday morning.”

  “Yes, I don’t mind staying back at the kitchen at all. I’m sure my ankle will be fine. Easter’s in two weeks,” Sadie said, just as the front doorbell rang. “That’s likely Marin, come to help me with the shop.”

  Andy sprang to his feet. “I’ll get the door.” He left for the foyer before anyone could say otherwise. Poor kid, the family powwow had him bored stiff, but Jayne and Luke probably eyed him to continue the family business one day. Sadie almost envied him.

  Right now the current weekend guests were dining on a St. Patrick’s day dinner in Csatlebury. Checkout time lay just ahead and the guests would head for home early this evening after spending a three-day weekend at the inn.

  Voices echoed from the front of the house. Andy reentered the room, his cheeks shot with red, Marin on his heels with Peter bringing up the rear.

  “Hi, Sadie, I’m here to help.” Marin smiled, but her focus was on Andy, who settled back onto the cushion he’d vacated minutes before.

  “That’s Miss Barncastle, Marin,” Peter said. “I’ll be back at five for both of you. Hi Luke, Jayne…Sadie.”

  At the “both of you,” Jayne’s eyebrows shot up and she glanced at Sadie, who felt her own cheeks burning.

  “Yes, Dad.” Marin nodded, unbundling the scarf from her neck.

  “Good to see you, Peter.” Luke stood and crossed the room. The two men shook hands. “We’ve had a pretty busy late winter. Jayne and I have been meaning to invite you over for supper.”

  “That’s all right, I understand. My own work has kept me quite busy.”

  It dawned on Sadie that she didn’t know much about Peter, other than the past and their tenuous new friendship in the present. She wanted to find out more about Appleman the adult, but now wasn’t the time. But at supper? She’d definitely see what she could learn.

  He flashed a grin at her before leaving the room. “See you later, Sadie.”

  Jayne leaned over and hissed in Sadie’s ear, “We ought to talk, later.” As she sat up, she wore a grin of her own.

  Sadie nodded, then glanced at Marin, chattering with young Hank, who played with his Legos on the floor. She knelt beside him, putting blocks together to construct a house.

  “Well, c’mon,” Luke gestured. “I want to show grandma’s prayer garden to the kids.”

  “I’ll wait here, for obvious reasons,” Sadie said. “But I’m sure looking forward to seeing it eventually.”

  “I’ll stay, too.” But Marin looked at Andy with a shade of regret on her face. The girl definitely had a little crush on the older boy. Oh dear.

  “I’ll get my coat.” Andy strode from the room, with his family following in his wake, Jayne explaining to Hank in as best terms as she could to a four year old what exactly a prayer garden was.

  “So,” Sadie said after she heard an outside door close, “why are you smiling at Andy so much?”

  Marin blushed. “I think he’s cute. But I wish he’d talk to me.”

  “Ah, Marin, you’re only ten years old. You really shouldn’t worry about a boy being cute, just yet. You have plenty of time much later to think about boys.” Sadie couldn’t help it. The girl was too obvious and Andy too disinterested for someone’s feelings not to be hurt eventually. Then again, maybe this was only a case of simple puppy love. Trouble was, puppy love was always real for the puppy.

  “I know.” Marin sighed. “But he’s so smart. He knows all about computers and birds and camping, and everything, just like Daddy. And at the bus stop, some other kids were being mean, and Andy stood up for me and made them quit.”

  “He’s a fine young man. I think it’s neat that you compared him to your dad.”

  “My dad is the best man in the world. I just wish he wasn’t sad sometimes. I think he needs to get married again and then he’ll be happy.” Marin nodded.

  Sadie tried not to say, “Ha,” and succeeded. Instead, she said, “That’s a lot of pressure on a woman, trying to be someone’s happiness.”

  “Huh?”

  “Your daddy will need to be happy on his own, before he can be happy with someone else. Besides, happiness comes and goes quickly.” She’d been schooled in that painful lesson herself, and hadn’t always learned. Like now, when every day she saw the kind of relationship she craved in the deepest corners of her heart.

  “I guess that’s true.” Marin looked thoughtful.

  Time to change the subject, away from Peter and happiness and puppy love. “Well, I was going to have you help me down to the gatehouse to work on the store, but it poured last night and it’s muddy all over. What would you say if we made cookies instead, so we can bring some of them for supper with your dad tonight?”

  “Oh, it’s been forever since I’ve made cookies with anyone.” Marin beamed.

  “Okay, help me up so we can get to the kitchen before everyone gets back.”

  **

  The smell of burned tomatoes, vegetables, and beef still hung in the air when Peter entered the kitchen. He paused to offer Sadie a hand as she negotiated the threshold. With her nose wrinkled, she paused for a moment on her crutches on the inside doormat. Marin came in behind her, unwinding her scarf.

  “I, uh, tried to make beef stew in the slow cooker, and it scorched. Which is why I swung by Wok Stars for takeout before I picked you up.” He set the large brown paper bag on the edge of the dining table. “It was either that
or the last few slices of leftover pizza in the fridge.”

  Sadie laughed. “I’ve had cooking disasters of my own. Chinese is fine, just fine with me.”

  “I thought,” he said, stepping to the kitchen window and opening it a few inches, “that the smell would have disappeared by now.”

  Marin shrugged out of her coat. “Air freshener. I think we’re out of it. You know the kind that they sprayed inside a car and left in a parking lot in Texas. And the car was full of garbage, in July? Well, we need that.”

  “You can add it to the shopping list.” Peter pointed at the notepad on the fridge. It was the easiest way for him to remember what to buy.

  “You seem organized,” Sadie observed, making her way to the nearest chair.

  “Please, sit down.” He pulled out the chair for her. Manners, manners. But then he wasn’t used to company yet. With both him and Marin being busy, he hadn’t ventured any invitations to anyone locally. First time for everything.

  Sadie smiled up at him as she settled onto the wooden seat. “Thanks.”

  “I try to stay organized. We manage. I try to not have to keep running to the store. My budget likes it better that way.” Her smile did crazy things to him, so he directed his attention to Marin. “If you could get us some plates, and silverware, please?”

  “Country china, Dad?”

  “No, real plates. We have company today.”

  “What’s country china?” Sadie asked.

  “Paper plates. Neither one of us are fans of doing the dishes.”

  “My nana calls them country china,” Marin said.

  “So, how are your parents? Where are they living?”

  “Florida, full time now. The climate is better. They took the plunge this fall, and I wanted to make sure we held onto the family homestead, so to speak. So I moved here in November with Marin.”

  “Ah, that’s good you’re keeping it in the family. So where were you before this?”

  “Newburyport, Mass., by the coast.” The stab of memory and all they’d left behind pierced his heart anew. But it was better this way. Much better now. He headed for the cupboard. They needed glasses, and he needed to compose himself.