Blossom Street

“I needed to get to Colville as quickly as possible.” Leave it to Chrissie to make her feel even guiltier. She was tired. School had drained her and nothing about her life felt right.

“Dad said I had to cook dinner,” Chrissie muttered. “He said that without you here, I’m supposed to take over meals.”

“I’m sure Dad would find that helpful.” And since her daughter wasn’t working, she could do something around the house, Susannah thought but didn’t say.

“He wants me to be his galley slave.”

“One meal a day, Chrissie, is hardly slave labor.”

“I had plans for tonight.”

Susannah didn’t want to get into an argument with her daughter. “Let me talk to your father.”

“All right, but tell him he’s being totally unreasonable.”

Susannah rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, grateful to have escaped her daughter’s theatrics. Half a minute later, Joe got on the phone.

“Hi,” he said. “How was the drive?”

“Great. I listened to music the entire way.”

“Did it help?”

His real question was whether she was still depressed. “I think it did,” she said without a lot of enthusiasm, “I’ll be okay in a week or so.” She prayed that was true.

For a moment it seemed as if he hadn’t heard her. “Do you intend to visit your father’s grave?”

“Why should I?”

“Susannah, don’t get all bent out of shape. It was just a question.”

“You know how I feel about him.”

“All right, fine.” He paused. “I still think you might find some answers in Colville.”

She bit her lip. “I might.” But the answers she needed weren’t to the questions he assumed.

“I hope you do, Suze.”

Susannah didn’t know how to respond to that. Telling Joe her mother was waiting, she ended the conversation and turned off her cell phone. When she glanced up, Vivian stood in the doorway, wearing her church hat and winter coat. “I found Carolyn’s phone number,” she said proudly, holding a small slip of paper.

“Mom, you don’t need your coat. It’s almost eighty degrees outside.” The temperature had flashed from the Colville State Bank as she’d driven through town.

“I don’t?”

“No. Where would you like to go for dinner?” Susannah asked, assisting her mother out of the heavy coat. She hadn’t changed her dress, and Susannah found her a light sweater to wear instead of the coat.

“Wherever you want, dear.”

“No, you decide, Mom.”

Her mother’s face fell. She seemed uncertain and a bit confused. “There’s always Benny’s Café, I suppose.”

“Would you rather go to Acorns?” she asked, knowing that was the place her father would have chosen.

Her mother’s smile was instantaneous. “I’ve always loved their oysters. No one in town does them better.”

“All right, Mom, that’s where we’ll go.”

“And when we get back, you’ll phone Carolyn.”

“Yes, Mom, I’ll phone Carolyn tonight.”

CHAPTER

5

Carolyn Bronson was thrilled to hear from Susannah Leary—no, Susannah Nelson. Naturally, she’d hoped Susannah would phone, but for reasons that were hard to explain, she hadn’t expected her to. It’d been years since they’d last talked, twenty-five years at least. Decades. Now as she drove into town to meet her, she peered through the windshield looking for the tavern the men from the mill frequented most. Less than a mile down the road from Bronson Mill, it was the only place she could think to suggest.

When Susannah called an hour ago, they’d had so much to say that it took nearly thirty minutes to get off the phone once they’d agreed on a place to meet. They had a lot of years to catch up on, and neither of them wanted to break the connection.

The tavern was on the road that led to Colville, where the old A & W drive-in had been when they were growing up. It’d been converted into a pub and it seemed as good a meeting place as any.

Carolyn thought it was a shame that she’d been back in Colville for over five years and this would be the first time she’d stepped foot in the most popular watering hole for miles around. Even driving below the speed limit, she nearly went past it. She smiled at the name of the tavern. He’s Not Here. That was actually pretty clever.

Although Carolyn had visited her parents often, she hadn’t looked up old friends. Her high school years had been spent in a boarding school in France, at her mother’s insistence. Carolyn feared she’d been a bitter disappointment to her delicate French mother. Brigitte had tried hard to teach her grace and charm and what she called the art of being a woman. But, while she’d scored top grades academically, Carolyn had failed to meet her mother’s expectations in all other respects, and took after her father’s side of the family. The lumberjack side.

She’d always been astonished that her parents had gotten together at all. They’d met in Europe during World War II and her mother had become a war bride. More than once Carolyn had wondered if her mother had ever regretted her choice of a husband, whether she’d resented being forced to live in Colville. Brigitte was like an exotic orchid stuck in a row of sturdy sunflowers.

There were plenty of spaces in the parking lot at the tavern. The light inside was dim and she wasn’t sure she’d recognize Susannah. Her own hair, still chestnut but streaked with gray, was even longer now than it had been when they were teenagers. She wore it pulled away from her face in a thick braid that fell haphazardly over one shoulder. She had on black jeans and a light summer jacket, which was what she generally wore to the mill. When necessary, she donned more feminine attire, but that wasn’t often.

She found a booth and slid onto the polished wooden bench to wait. Only a minute or two after she’d arrived, Susannah came through the door, saw her and immediately headed in her direction. Carolyn would have known her anywhere. Susannah hadn’t changed a bit. Oh, perhaps she was a few pounds heavier, but not many, and she wore her hair shorter these days. It was a shade or two darker, as well. She had on white linen pants and a teal sweater with large white flowers on the front.

Her childhood friend sat down across from her in the booth, facing the door. “My goodness, when did they get a Wal-Mart in Colville?”

Carolyn couldn’t remember. There’d been news of it coming for a year or two before the store was actually built. “I came back five years ago, and it was already here.”

“That long? Really? Funny, neither Mom or Dad said anything about it.” She dragged in a deep breath. “You look fabulous. It’s great to see you.”

“You, too.” Carolyn meant it. She’d always regretted that they’d lost contact. “How’s your mother?”

Susannah set her purse on the bench beside her. “I’m afraid she’s worse than I realized.”

“I’m sorry,” Carolyn said sympathetically.

Susannah leaned back against the hard wooden booth and sighed. “I took her to dinner, and half the time she thought I was my aunt Jean, who’s been dead for fifteen years.”

“Oh, no.”