Edwina (12 page)

Edwina felt silly tiptoeing down the back
stairs on a Thursday morning, considerably later than usual. She
wasn’t doing anything wrong, just taking a day off. She’d worked
many overtime hours when no one else would. Surely it was all right
to enjoy a little tomfoolery.

After a stop at the gas station which used
six of her four- teen dollars, saving the rest for lunch and ice
cream, she rolled down the windows, pulled sunglasses from the
visor, and started up the highway to St. Joseph. It was a pleasant
enough ride, her hair blowing around her face, kids out of school
riding bikes, and travelers stopping along the road- side for
summer’s-end sweet corn, tomatoes, green beans, and watermelon at
the fruit and vegetable stands.

Her heart fluttered like the pad of paper on
the front seat, the wind blowing it wildly. Restless, she punched
several buttons and settled on an oldies music station. The upbeat
sounds soothed her somehow. Made her stop thinking about herself.
That was the problem, she decided as she drove along. She’d been
thinking way too much about herself.

The story about the Scottish hero and the
woman in the gauzy dress meeting on the windswept hills had died
some- where along the way. Perhaps another story line would come
today. It would be a project that would keep her mind off things.
And what better way for the local librarian to make the front page
of the small town newspaper than to write and publish a book?

Excitement sliced through her soul—an emotion
she hadn’t felt in a long time.

The forty-five minute drive brought her to
her destination. Luckily she found a spot not too far from the
beach and parked. From the looks of it, the weather was blowing up
a storm and beachgoers were walking to their cars hauling towels,
ice coolers, and pushing babies in strollers. Surprisingly, she was
not distressed by the change in weather. It might blow over, but if
it didn’t she’d gaze across the wide blue expanse, wondering what
she was supposed to be doing with her life. Maybe a ship’s captain
was better suited as a hero.

For now she’d let the wind blow her hair and
try to keep the paper from ripping off the pad. It was turning
dark. People were starting to scatter; paper cups and napkins were
sucked out of their grasp against their will. Dark clouds formed
over the water. She watched, fascinated.

Storms over the water. Storms in our lives.
She let the idea settle. Not surprisingly she found an abandoned
bench and sat down, held the pad of paper over her head as the huge
drops plopped on her hair, and gazed at the scene before her. It
may not be Scotland, but it was beautiful and frightening at the
same time.

Lightning began to strike from the dark
clouds hanging over the roiling water. A bolt hit the water, and
Edwina wondered if it skittered across the top and struck things or
went diving into the water. The wind picked up even more, white
sand burying her shoes as it blew inland. The storm raged and rain
fell. It was a warm, quick downpour and then it stopped. The wind
blew the rolling clouds northward. Then the sun popped out again.
The sand, now heavy with rain, fell into her shoes. But it didn’t
matter. The storm had lasted only ten minutes.

She’d eaten on the way up, so she was in no
hurry to leave the bench, especially since people were starting to
come back. Soon the beach would be full again. An hour later, she
was ready to go. Shouts of children playing and beach balls flying
past signaled she should move to a quieter place, since that was
the reason she’d taken off work. To be alone. To think. Contemplate
her life.

Removing her beach shoes and shaking the sand
out of them, she decided to walk barefoot and meandered toward the
car. The sun had dried off every spot of rain, leaving behind a
clean scent. She pulled the fragrant air into her lungs and thanked
God for life. She’d been too introspective as of late and promised
herself she would seek out better ways to spend her time.

Perhaps she was naïve, but she wanted to make
a difference in somebody’s life. And the path she was walking right
now was headed nowhere.

Edwina left the tree-lined residential street
and headed for downtown St. Joseph. It was a short walk to the ice
cream store. Minutes later she found herself meandering by shops
noting the summer visitors, many from Chicago, as she slurped her
fast-melting giant mint chocolate chip ice cream waffle cone. She
hadn’t allowed herself the luxury of a triple dip cone for... she
couldn’t remember when.

After a full day moseying, driving, and just
plain laziness, she walked back to the Volkswagen and headed for
home, parked her car in the shade, and ran up the stairs, her shoes
dangling from her fingertips. The phone was ringing. Should she
answer?

“Nope, not today, my friend,” she said aloud.
“Not today.” This was her day. She’d be back at work tomorrow.

That decided, she sat at the dining table and
worked over her notes on thoughts about the storms and lazy days of
life. Perhaps her ideas could be turned into a magazine
article.

Still full from lunch and the huge ice cream
cone, she settled for a bag of microwave popcorn for dinner and
went to bed. She’d taken charge of a tiny piece of her life and
lived it today. And it had refreshed her spirit, body, and
mind.

Chapter 22

A
lex Dunnegin had finally twisted the truth out of Bertilda
after her unusual behavior in the kitchen. She admitted that she
wished to seek another position. He had nearly dropped his coffee
cup at the confession.

“Come to my office, away from the others.”
Alex led the way.

The conversation started out with Bertilda’s
defensive declaration. “Mr. Dunnegin...”

“Alex, Bertilda. We are alone, call me
Alex.”

His soft words must have touched a nerve,
because for the second time since he was a boy, Alex saw her cry.
She’d turned her back and he saw her back shaking. Whatever could
be so wrong in his house that she should be so unhappy? It seemed
unhappiness reigned in this castle. First his brother, the eldest
son and one who had been groomed for this position had died. But
once Alex had lost his wife, things seemed to only get worse. Now
the legal problems with his daughter. Paige had been his only
salvation. Paige and Bertilda.

When Bertilda turned back and faced him he
knew she was determined. “Alex, I cannot work for ya any longer. I
must find another position.” The woman had actually crossed her
arms over her chest.

He calmed himself, “Now suppose you sit down
here and talk about it.”

“I cannot sit. I’ve troubled myself enough
over the deci- sion. You must let me go.”

“Where, Bertilda. Where do you need to go?
Have you another offer?”

“I have no other offer. It’s as though...
.though...” She could not finish.

Alex took a seat in a large overstuffed chair
next to the fireplace and motioned for her to sit in the other.

She sat, but Alex dreaded her
explanation.

“What would I do without you Bertie?”

"Bertie? Since when have ya ever called me
that?” She caught his eye. It was Edwina that called her that. He
had heard her several times. She had a way with Bertie.

“Suppose you tell me what’s bothering
you.”

He ignored her question.

“You wouldna understand.”

“Try me.”

“It’s as though I’ve changed somehow, Laird
Dunnegin.”

She sounded distressed and addressed him in
the old way.

“How?”
Where in the world was this going
?

“I can’t tell you in words. All I know is
that I cannot sit by idly and see Paige be taken from you. I can’t.
If it comes to that, I don’t know what I’ll do.” She got up and
walked to the window.

Alex pulled in a breath. This he could deal
with. He let a few seconds pass as he formed an answer. He knew
women well enough that if he said the wrong thing at the wrong
time, he’d have double the trouble trying to fix it.

“Bertie, do you trust me?”

“
Of course I do, you’re
like a son to me Alex Dunnegin.” She pronounced as she turned. “You
know that.”

“Then trust me. I’m doing everything I can to
see that Paige is not taken away.”

“She has no mother.” Bertie’s voice raised.
“The Gillespie’s are good people, but they’re like grandparents.
The lass needs a mother. And I don’t mean like the last one you
brought home.” Her hands were on her hips now.

“And you see that I did not marry Ilana.”

“Had you wed her, Alex Dunnegin, I would’a
packed my bag and walked out that door.” She pointed behind
her.

“As well you should.” He agreed. “I was a
fool.”

“What is it? You are all the things a young
woman wants. You’re kind. You’ve got money.” She swung her arms
hither and yon. “And you’re a good-looking lad.” She added with
such seriousness Alex thought he could not keep the smile off his
face.

“My governess would think such a thing. Not
every woman I meet loves me as well as you do, Bertie.”

She ignored his humor.

“Why is it then you haven’t found a wife... a
mother for Paige. It would help your case.”

“Yes, it would. But I cannot marry for those
reasons. And well you know it.” Alex reprimanded her, buying some
time to decide whether he should speak further.

Bertie gave him her back again.

“I asked Miss Blair to stay on as my
secretary.” He stared at the small fire burning in the grate. “I
thought maybe if she met Paige, they would get on.”

“Ya did? Truly?” She turned to face him.

“Aye.”

“Well, that was the first sensible thing I’ve
heard this day.”

“You agree with my decision, then?”

“
Aye, I do. The young lass
is sensible, kind, good to the heart. She would get on well with
Paige. And did she refuse ya then?”

Bertie’s temper was rising.

“She did.”

“Ack... I thought the woman smarter than
that.”

“She’s afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“She never wanted to come to Scotland. Her
sister was supposed to be traveling. But Miss Blair took her place.
I don’t think she is accustomed to being away from home.”

“She seemed to like our Scottish hills well
enough.” Bertie harrumphed.

“Aye, she did. I saw her walk upon them
meself.”

“Ah... so you were watching the lass, too?”
Alex stared at the fire, choosing not to answer.

“Well, be that as it may, are ye going to ask
the lass again? Tell her about Paige?”

“That would be up to me, now wouldn’t it?”
Bertie didn’t say a word.

“Will luncheon be ready in a while? I’m
famished.” He smiled and caught her eye.

“Aye. I’ll be back to my work. But take note
that ye’ll be needin’ to find someone who can make your oat cakes
for ya while I’m gone.”

“Gone?” Alex looked up.

“Aye... I’d be aboot a bit of a holiday
meself.” She said smartly.

“So you don’t wish to find another position.
Only take a holiday?” Alex was careful with his words.

“Aye. A good long holiday...” she warned.

“You deserve one. When will you leave?” Alex
knew she had worked tirelessly for years.

“I’ll let ya know, lad.” She sputtered, back
to her old self.

“
Perhaps things will be
better by then.” His voice trailed off

“Rest yourself. I’ll see your bags are
packed.”

“Thanks. It’s going to be a difficult trip,
this time.”

“Aye, I’ll be saying a little prayer for ya,
too.”

“Thanks Bertilda.”

Alex lay his head back and wondered when he
would have time to find a wife. Not for himself but for his
daughter’s benefit.

Chapter 23

E
dwina returned to work and found chaos. The woman who was
called in to take her place yesterday; after complaining to the
city council that the library was not being run correctly, began
her new duties as a watchdog.

The head librarian had shut herself up in her
office in order to avoid the clash going on out in the small,
usually quiet library.

Edwina forbade her mind to
rush off on negative clouds of thought and pushed the critical
words,
She’s just trying to take my job...
who does she think she is anyway...
from
her mind. The woman had given her a headache. The lady didn’t know
the first thing about running a library, but she sure knew how to
run her nails across the chalkboard with her incessant bellyaching.
Her yammering had caused even the high school teens who came after
school to give the woman dirty looks. One of the young gals had
whispered in passing, “How can you stand it?”

“Not very well.” Edwina watched her words
because she knew they had a funny way of flying back and landing on
your head, like a little bird. Besides, she knew it was wrong to
gossip.

She had enjoyed a walk at lunch today. It
reminded her of the time she spent in the hills in Scotland that
day back in May and wanted to relive the joy of walking alone.
Besides, she thought it was better to leave the building, get away
from the woman who seemed honor bound to find fault with everything
she came across.

The sidewalks were still too warm to take her
shoes off and walk barefoot. Even though she wore her work clothes,
she was tempted to do it anyway. But she didn’t.

Once home from work, glad because it was
Friday, she had the unpleasant task of answering the calls from
yesterday. After her shoes were put in the closet, pants hung just
so, and the shirt tossed in the laundry basket, she slipped on a
pair of cutoffs and a raggedy T-shirt. Pen and paper in hand, she
sat in the chair and pressed the play button on her answering
machine.