Lavender Morning

  She wandered through the upstairs, noting what was where. Her bedroom had the most furniture in it. The second bedroom had a bed and a little table by it, but nothing else, and the third bedroom was empty.

  At the end of the hall was a window, with a door next to it. She’d already discovered it opened to a narrow, steep staircase that led up to another door that was locked. The attic. She remembered Ramsey telling her that it was full of trunks containing old clothes and diaries. As a researcher, she was looking forward to seeing those old diaries, and she wondered if the true story of Miss Edi’s David was written down somewhere.

  Downstairs, she went into the living room and looked at the familiar furniture, and for a moment she was lost in memory. She and Miss Edi had spent many an afternoon on that yellow couch. When it needed reupholstering, they’d had a good time looking at fabric samples and choosing one with honeybees on it. They’d talked and laughed together as they sat there, and—

  Jocelyn had to leave the room, as the memories were too strong. The dining room needed a table and more chairs. There was a downstairs bath, a smaller parlor that had a cabinet with two lamps on it, but nothing else.

  She went into the kitchen, sat down at the table, and looked around. She loved the big sink, loved the heavy pine table, but the stove was an eyesore. Holding up her hands, she formed a square with fingers and thumbs and imagined a big, stainless steel six-burner there. “With double ovens,” she said out loud.

  But it would be ridiculous to put in such an expensive stove, she thought. After all, she couldn’t cook. That she’d often made cupcakes and cookies for Miss Edi’s fund-raiser tea parties didn’t count as actual cooking. But Luke’s talk of an herb garden and Joce’s memory of the lavender cookies she used to bake had made her think of a kitchen and a…well, of a home.

  She looked in the refrigerator and saw that there were eggs, milk, orange juice, and bread in there. She frowned for a moment, then shook her head in wonder. It looked like while she’d been out with Luke yesterday evening, someone had put them in her refrigerator. Sara? Ramsey? Somehow, she didn’t think it was Tess.

  She used one of the pans from the day before to make herself scrambled eggs and toast and ate while looking about her. If she did have the money to remodel the kitchen, what would she do to it? Gut it and put in lots of granite and recessed lighting? The very thought made her shiver.

  Before she knew it, it was after ten and she needed to get dressed to go meet Ramsey.

  Jocelyn had heard of The Trellis restaurant and knew that it was quite upscale, so she put on her new oatmeal-colored linen trousers and her new pale pink knit top. Ramsey seemed to like her in conservative, feminine clothes.

  Her suitcase was still on the floor, not yet fully unpacked. In the back, in the big zipper compartment, she pulled out a framed photo of her and Miss Edi. It was the only one she had. Bell had taken it one sunny day after she’d received a digital camera for her birthday. Of course the Steps hadn’t been invited to Miss Edi’s house, but both the Steps liked to show up unannounced—as though they hoped to see something they shouldn’t. “What do you get out of staying over there all the time?” they used to ask. “The house is boring, and the old woman is mean. There’s nothing to do.”

  Jocelyn didn’t bother to reply—which made them furious. Why try to explain to two girls who only thought of how they could decorate their bodies?

  Jocelyn had known better than to ask for the photo—the Steps would never be so kind as to just plain give it to her. At best, they’d make her pay for it by doing something for them, such as writing a couple of school papers. At worst, they’d destroy the photo just for the pleasure of doing so.

  In the end, she waited until the twins went out, then she’d taken the card from the camera, copied the photos onto her laptop, and put the card back. Later, the Steps taunted her with the picture, since they knew she’d want it, but Jocelyn just shrugged. As she knew they would, they erased the picture off the disk.

  Now, she put it on her bedside table. She and Miss Edi were standing side by side in front of a Mr. Lincoln rosebush. The deep red of the rose contrasted nicely with Miss Edi’s white linen dress. She was smiling at Jocelyn in a way that showed her love, and Joce was smiling back in the same way. When she first saw the picture, Jocelyn understood more of why the Steps were so jealous of her. Not even their doting mother looked at the twins like Miss Edi was looking at Jocelyn.

  With another glance at the clock, she hurried to finish dressing, and was soon running down the steps to the front door. When she opened it, she gasped. Three women were standing on her doorstep, and she nearly ran into them.

  “So sorry to have frightened you,” said one woman.

  “You’re off to see Ramsey, aren’t you?” asked the second. She had on jeans and a T-shirt and looked too young to have gray hair.

  She’d seen them at church, had even been introduced to them, but she couldn’t remember their names. For all she knew, one of them was Ramsey’s mother. Or Luke’s.

  “I’m sorry but I can’t stay. I’m late as it is,” Joce said.

  “That’s all right, he’ll wait for you,” said the third woman. “We came to get our dishes and to see how you’re doing. Did you like the squash casserole I made?”

  “I, uh…,” Jocelyn began. She didn’t know whose dish was what.

  “Don’t mind her,” said the woman in jeans. “We all know what you did with the food. That was Tess’s idea, wasn’t it? And noble of you girls to do that.”

  “Yes,” said the first woman. Her hair was dyed a dark red that looked good on her, and by the roll around her middle, she didn’t bother going to a gym. “We know how noble Tess is.” She rolled her eyes when she said it and looked like she wanted to giggle.

  The way they spoke of Tess made Joce give a silent thanks to Luke for not telling that he’d been in her house after Ramsey left. She didn’t want these women rolling their eyes over her. “The dishes are on the table in the kitchen,” she said as she went down the stairs to her car. “Help yourselves and thank you all so very much. You’ve made me feel very welcome. I can’t possibly thank you enough.” She opened her car door and got inside.

  She put her hand out the window and waved as she went through the gates. The women were standing on her doorstep, watching her. “I’ll probably be branded as the rudest Yankee ever to have moved to Edilean,” she muttered under her breath.

  Minutes later, she saw Ramsey’s office—and he was sitting on the sidewalk in front. Beside him was a big picnic basket and under him was a folded quilt. When he saw her coming, he got up and put the quilt and the basket over his arm. She pulled to the curb, he opened the passenger side, got in, and put the items in the back.

  “Bigger than it looks,” he said, looking at the interior of the car.

  “I bet you say that to all your dates.”

  “Only a few of them,” he said in a husky way.

  “So where are we going?” she asked even as she started to turn toward Williamsburg.

  “No,” Ramsey said. “Go right.”

  “But—”

  “But what?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she said. “I just assumed we were going into Williamsburg.”

  “I thought about it, but there’s time to do that later. I thought we might spend some time alone together.”

  “‘Alone together,’” she said under her breath.

  “What?”

  “It’s just something I heard and I liked it. ‘Alone together.’”

  “Turn here,” Ramsey said at a sign that said they were now leaving the State Wilderness Park. “Unless you want me to drive?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “So how many ladies did you get this morning?” he asked.

  “Surprisingly few. There were three of them on the doorstep as I left. I almost knocked them down.”

  “So who were they?”

  She glanced at him.

  “Right,” he said,
smiling. “You have no idea. Describe them.”

  “Dark red hair, not natural. Not athletic.”

  “‘Not athletic.’ How diplomatic of you. Ken’s mother. You haven’t met him, have you?”

  “I thought I was going to meet him today, but you were outside waiting for me.”

  “Tess’s idea. She said everyone would be staring at you, so if I actually wanted to talk to you, I should take you away.”

  “Ah,” Jocelyn said.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good sound. What does ‘ah’ mean?”

  “Luke said that Tess runs your life. In fact, everyone says that.”

  “And she does a good job of it too,” Ramsey said. “Please tell me you’re insanely jealous and you’d like to snatch her bald.”

  Joce laughed. “Sorry, but no. She’s abrasive and has a chip on her shoulder the size of a mountain, but I almost like her.”

  “If you do, you’re only the second woman in town who does. You and Sara. The girls in the office are terrified of her. They run into the restroom and talk about her so much that now if Tess is going in there, she yells ‘incoming’ then gives them three seconds to shut up.”

  “Why would they hate her for that?” Joce asked, wide eyed.

  “Beats me,” Ramsey said, smiling. “Turn here, down this dirt road. There! That’s it. Park under that tree.”

  She pulled under a big oak tree and got out of the car. Ramsey got out, then pushed his seat back and removed the basket and quilt.

  “Can you bear another picnic?” he asked.

  It was beautiful where they were. Overhanging trees closed them in, and she could hear running water in the distance. “If this is where the picnics are, I can stand them every day.”

  “Come on, then,” Ramsey said as he started walking. She followed him down a path until they came to a meadow that was covered in spring wildflowers.

  It was while they were crossing the meadow that Jocelyn got the idea that Ramsey had something important to tell her, something that he didn’t want to say in a public place, like his office or a restaurant. She hoped it wasn’t something that was guaranteed to make her cry.

  When he looked back at her, she said, “It’s beautiful here,” and gave no hint as to what she was thinking.

  “Virginia on a bad day is still the best there is.”

  “And this is a scientific observation?”

  “Yes. Utterly without prejudice.” He was walking backward in front of her, through the meadow, the sunlight glistening off his hair and his blue shirt. “Keep looking at me like that and we’ll never get back to the office,” he said, teasing.

  “Why, whatever do you mean, Mr. McDowell?”

  When he reached a row of trees, he slowed as he walked into them and waited for her to catch up. “My grandfather planted these trees,” he said once they were in the shade.

  “Does that mean you own this land?”

  “My sister and I do. She and her husband are building a house on the other side of the meadow.”

  “Do you plan to build here?”

  “Maybe,” Ramsey said. They had come to a little creek, with willows hanging over the water. “Do you like this place?”

  “Very much,” she said. “Where would you put your house?”

  He gave her a sharp glance. “You’re worried that I’ll put in some concrete monstrosity in the middle of the meadow, aren’t you?” He spread the quilt in the shade on a flat piece of land.

  “It went through my mind.”

  “Farther up is a site where an old house burned down. The trees are gone and it’s open land. I’d build there and keep all this exactly as it is.” He motioned to the pretty little creek as he put the basket on the quilt and opened it. “I have no idea what’s in here. Tess—” He broke off.

  “Tess packed it,” Jocelyn said. “I know. I’m getting the picture. I guess you heard what we did with all the welcome food that was left at my house.”

  “Yeah,” Ramsey said, smiling. “Tess is like that. She thinks of people with less than she has.”

  As Jocelyn looked at him, she again wondered how much was between him and Tess.

  “Don’t you start too,” he said as he pulled a loaf of bread out of the basket, and she knew he meant speculating on him and Tess. “If this is from Aunt Ellie’s store, you can bet that it’s half twigs and a quarter bark.”

  “You don’t like it?”

  “Love it!” he said loudly, then lowered his voice, “but sometimes when I’m out of town I order a tuna on white. Not whole wheat, but plain ol’ white bread. Every time I do it, I expect Aunt Ellie to run through the door and lecture me on my digestive system.”

  “Tell her that white bread goes well with tequila.”

  At that, Ramsey gave a laugh. “You have picked up a lot about our residents, haven’t you?”

  “One or two things.” She got on her knees, brushed his hands away, and began to unpack the basket. It was full of things that she loved: brie, crackers, olives, three kinds of berries, what looked to be homemade pâté, coleslaw, and bottles of juice. “Lovely.”

  “It’s my guess that Tess watched what you ate yesterday, memorized it, and applied it to the basket.”

  “How scientific,” Jocelyn said as she spread the meal on the quilt. There were plates in the bottom, and she put them out. She unscrewed the cap off a bottle of juice and started to pour some into a paper cup, but he took the bottle. She watched as he put it to his lips and drank. She liked that he didn’t “swallow” the rim, but put his upper lip across the top.

  She looked out at the stream and said, “Would you like to tell me whatever it is that you’re dreading telling me?”

  He gave her a look of astonishment and shook his head. “Remind me never to play poker with you. What did I do to give myself away?”

  “I don’t know. There just seems to be something serious in your eyes today. And from what I gather, taking me out here on a second date is out of character for you.”

  “The curses of living in a town where people know me,” he said, but he didn’t smile. “I haven’t been to bed all night. My father and I stayed up, and he told me what I’ve come to think of as the Great Family Secret.”

  “And now you have to share it with me? Is it as bad as all that?”

  “Maybe,” Ramsey said, looking away from her. “It depends on how you take it.”

  “So tell me,” she said.

  He filled a plate with food and took his time before saying anything. “Miss Edi and my grandfather were great friends, and they exchanged letters until he died. Even when I was a little kid, he read the letters to me, and as he got older, I read them to him. Miss Edi used to write a lot about you. She was proud of your intelligence, but she never mentioned what a good observer of people you are.”

  She was watching him intently. If he’d read letters written by Miss Edi, then he must know a lot about her, Jocelyn. That he knew so much about her was a shock. She tried to quieten her pounding heart. Did he have something truly awful to tell her? “I had to be nearly clairvoyant to survive the Steps.”

  Ramsey smiled. “My dad and I followed their career,” he said. “From their first catalog work all the way to Milan. Are they as horrible as Miss Edi said they were?”

  “Much worse,” Jocelyn said impatiently. “Is what you have to tell me so bad that you can’t get the words out?”

  “There is no money,” he said quickly.

  “No money?”

  “Last night my father told me that you get the house, but there is no money with it. None at all.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said. “I mean, I wasn’t really expecting millions, but Miss Edi lived quite well. I can support myself, but that house will need maintenance.”

  “I know,” Ramsey said softly, “and I—my family, that is—will help you with that. But there isn’t any money. As for Miss Edi’s expenses…” He shrugged.

  “How long was she without funds?”

 
“She was self-supporting until she moved to Florida. After that, the house in Edilean and all the work she did for the town were paid for. And Bertrand’s expenses.”

  “Who paid for her house in Florida and her charity work there?”

  “My grandfather.”

  “And he would be…?”

  “Alexander McDowell.”

  Jocelyn looked at the stream for a while and thought about all she’d heard in the last few days. “Lissie’s husband?” she asked softly.

  “Did Miss Edi tell you about him?”

  “Not a word. She didn’t tell me about Edilean, much less anyone who lived here. I didn’t know she owned a huge old house, didn’t know—” She had to take a few breaths to calm herself. “Miss Edi mentioned Alex and Lissie McDowell in the letter she left me with her will, and Sara mentioned a Lissie who married the ‘richest man in town’ so I put it together.”

  “Her great-aunt,” Ramsey said under his breath.

  “What?”

  “Lissie was Sara’s great-aunt. She married my grandfather at the beginning of World War II, and from what I can piece together it all started just before then.”

  “What started?” Joce asked, looking at him, and she could see the strain on his face. He hated telling her all this. She smiled at him. “Come on, lighten up! I was poor yesterday and I’m still poor. So what? I never expected any financial reward from Miss Edi, so there’s no disappointment.”

  When he turned to her, he looked so relieved that she poured him a cup of juice and handed it to him. “I wish it were wine.”

  “Me too.”

  He lifted his cup to her. “To you, Miss Jocelyn, as much a lady as ever lived.”

  Jocelyn laughed. “What did you expect me to do? Throw a fit? Rage at a woman who left me no money in her will?”

  “What would the Steps have done?”

  “Did,” Jocelyn said, then she told him about the pieces of coal that Miss Edi had cut into jewel shapes and left for them. “I was back at work when they found out and I wouldn’t pick up the phone for their calls, but they left some blistering messages on my machine. I played them over and over. I don’t think I’ve ever had such pleasure.”