Home on Apple Blossom Road (Life in Icicle Falls) (19 page)

“So, that means it’s a woman,” Colin said.

“If we’re talking about a woman writer, there’s only one person who fits, and that’s Muriel Sterling.”

“Now, why didn’t I think of that?”

“I don’t know. Why didn’t you?”

“Because I’m not as smart as you.”

“No, because two heads are better than one. You know, teamwork?”

Yes, they made a great team. He should never have let her go. Damn it all, why was Gram torturing him like this?

He didn’t want to think about it. He gulped down the last of his lemonade and pushed away from the table. “Okay, let’s go.”

Luckily for them, Muriel Sterling was home. “Colin, Mia, how nice to see you,” she said, opening the door to her little house by the vineyard. “Come in.”

“I’m wondering if you know why we’re here,” Mia said as they stepped through the door.

“I believe I do. Oh, and I just happen to have some lavender cookies from Bailey’s tea shop.”

Colin liked cookies, but what he really wanted was to get their next clue and move on. He opened his mouth to say they were in a hurry, but before the words came out, Mia was saying, “That sounds great.” So in they went and settled on the sofa, and Muriel disappeared into the kitchen to fetch goodies.

He had to admit, being in Muriel Sterling’s house was good for the soul. It wasn’t the big kick-ass house she’d lived in when she was married and half the town came to her New Year’s Day open houses, but there was something restful about looking out the living room window at all those leafy green vines with clumps of grapes dangling from them like giant earrings. Inside, she’d decorated with framed photographs taken by her oldest daughter, Samantha. A vase of daisies sat on the dining table, a testament to the difference between men and women. Nothing ever sat on his table except junk mail.

“This is such a pretty setting,” Mia said, gazing out the window. “Someday, I’d love to have a house just like this.”

“In Chicago?” he asked. No city would give her this kind of view.

She didn’t answer. Muriel was back now with a tray bearing a plate of cookies and two glasses. “I think you’ll like this lavender iced tea.”

“Ooh, is that something Bailey offers at the tea shop?”

“It is, as a matter of fact. I hope you’ll have time to visit there before you have to leave,” said Muriel. “How long are you here?”

Mia cast a glance in Colin’s direction. “I’m only here for as long as it takes to puzzle out this mystery of what Grandma Justine left us. I have to get back to Chicago.”

There it was again, a reminder that they were now leading very different lives.

“I’m glad you could at least come for the funeral,” Muriel said. “And I’m glad you’re making time for this treasure hunt. Justine was such a clever woman. And quite the mover and shaker here in Icicle Falls. But her reach went farther than taking in kids and starting the information booth. Did you know she helped me with my first book?”

“Gram was a writer?” This was news to Colin.

“At one time, yes, she did some writing. She even sold a story to
Redbook
back in the seventies. She acted as my editor, helped me pull my thoughts together. Without her encouragement, I don’t think I’d ever have sold my first book. And I wasn’t the only one she helped. She encouraged Olivia Claussen to keep going with the Icicle Creek Lodge after her first husband died and sent I don’t know how many people her way. She also helped a lot of businesses in town, thanks to that information booth.” Muriel opened a drawer in the buffet table and pulled out a small cloth-bound notebook. “Just as she worked with me on my story, I helped her a little with hers. She wrote down a few things she wanted you two to know, and this time I was her editor. Here’s the final version.” Muriel handed the notebook to Colin. “I’m going to sit on my back patio. When you’re done, I’ll give you your next clue.”

She walked quietly out of the room, leaving Colin and Mia on the couch with the little book of reminiscences. He opened it and they began to read.

Even though I grew up in Pittsburgh, I think I was always a small-town girl at heart. But I didn’t know that until I got to Icicle Falls.

Gerald and I were high school sweethearts and we never dreamed we’d leave Pittsburgh. We figured he’d work in a factory like his father had. We’d raise a family, go to church, pay bills, all the normal things you expect to do once you’re married. Those plans got delayed. The Korean War came along, and Gerald got drafted. I prayed every day that God would keep him safe and bring him home to me. I knew if he didn’t come back, I’d never marry. I’d never find with anyone else what I had with Gerald. We were so alike in what we wanted from life. We enjoyed the same things like drives out into the country or a stroll around the neighborhood in the evening, card games, going to a movie once in a while. We were both big Jimmy Stewart fans. I could hardly wait to get married and start a family. Needless
to say, I was distraught when Gerald left. Like every other woman whose sweetheart was gone, I prayed every day for his safety. I never figured out why he came back and others didn’t. All I could do was be thankful.

As you know, he didn’t escape unharmed. Gerald was badly wounded in Korea. He lost the sight in one eye. But he came home to me and that was all that mattered. We were married and lived with my parents for a time so Gerald could get back on his feet. War had taken its toll. He was nervous and had trouble sleeping. We finally decided he needed a change.

He had a friend who’d been stationed out west at McCord Air Force base and had moved out there. The friend told him how great Washington was, all blue skies and green on the western side, orchards and farming on the east. A great place to build a life, said his friend. I loved the idea of owning a little farm, but I wasn’t so sure about leaving home. Still, Gerald was really taken with the idea of starting our married life in Washington, so I agreed to move. His father lent us some money and we packed up and came out here, looking for peace and quiet for Gerald and a place to build our life together.

Washington was lovely and there was plenty of green in the northwest part of the state. Plenty of rain, too, so even though we could have bought a dairy farm up north toward the Canadian border, we headed over the pass to where the sunshine was. The mountains were so beautiful they took my breath away, and as we drove down the other side I had the strong impression that we had found our home.

We set up housekeeping in a small house in Yakima, and Gerald worked in a packing plant. We hoarded money like misers, saving for that farm we wanted. Bethie came along in 1954 and then Dylan in 1957.

We quickly learned that children are an expensive hobby. I began to think maybe we’d never save enough money to make our dreams come true. Gerald was already working so hard. There was nothing more he could do, so I decided to pitch in. I’d been pretty good in English at school. I applied to the local paper and got a job writing a food column. It wasn’t a lot of money, but it helped. And from that I branched out and gave cooking lessons to young brides. I even entered a cooking contest. My butterscotch biscuits won me five hundred dollars, a real fortune back then.

By 1960 we were ready to take advantage of the GI Bill and put some money down on a place. We’d heard that Icicle Falls was in the process of reinventing itself and thought there might be a future there, so we went to take a look. We were checking out sale properties, and that was when we saw the orchard and the old farmhouse. We didn’t even need to talk about it. We both knew as we walked among all those trees that we’d found our future home. We bought it and got to work. Maybe I worked a little too hard. In 1961 I lost a baby. And I lost a piece of my heart.

But I reminded myself to be grateful for what I had, and I pushed on. When your soul is in the desert you have to push on or you die. I still think about Gretchen, though. Sometimes I dream about her. I’m looking forward to meeting her when I get to heaven. I hope she won’t hold it against me that I didn’t take better care of myself.

After that loss I needed something to occupy my mind. Icicle Falls was growing now, with lovely little hotels and shops and restaurants springing up all over. We were starting to get visitors. Looking around, I realized that we needed an information booth, a central location where people could come and get brochures and maps and hear about all there was to do here in the mountains. So I decided to get one up and running.

There wasn’t much money in the town’s budget but we eventually managed to find a location. Gerald and one of his friends built the booth, and in the summer of 1963 we were in business. That miniature chalet was an instant hit. I loved working in it, welcoming people to Icicle Falls.

I loved welcoming children into our home, too. Thank God that Gerald felt the same way. I like to think we helped most of the kids who came through our doors. There were one or two we couldn’t save, but what’s the point in dwelling on that?

We had a good, full life, and that orchard was our pride and joy. But it was also a lot of work. Still, we hung on because we loved it.

I suppose there comes a point when you either let go of something and swim for safety or it takes you down. I tried to hang on to the orchard, but after Gerald’s stroke I realized I couldn’t keep it, just like I couldn’t keep him at home. I had to let go of so much. It was either that or get taken down.

Of course, I’d hoped it could stay in the family. Colin, I knew how much you loved it. I knew you had your own dreams for it, too, but I couldn’t hang on any longer. Your father had his law practice, and Beth and Mark had their company. There was no one to keep the place going. Anyway, I needed the money to pay the care facility. I cried all day when I put the orchard up for sale.

Colin remembered that painful time. Some people from the city who figured it would be fun to get back to nature bought the orchard. Nobody told Gramps. There was no reason to upset him. Everyone knew he was never getting out of that place.

Colin went to visit Gramps every afternoon that summer, up until the day the old man died, staying until he thought his chest would burst form all the pain he was holding in. When the end of August came and Gramps started asking how the harvest was going, Colin would lie and say, “Great. Don’t worry, we’ve got it covered.”

He had thought many times of calling Mia, sharing the grief, but he never did. He knew she knew about Gramps. Aunt Beth had told her and she’d called Gram several times. When Gramps died she’d sent Gram a card with a note inside, telling her what a special man Gramps had been—in case Gram wasn’t aware of that?—and had sent flowers to the funeral, but she hadn’t come back. It had been one more thing to hold against her.

Gramps asked about her once when Colin came to visit. One side of his face drooped, and his speech was slurred. He couldn’t see out of one eye, so Colin always made sure to sit on Gramps’s good side.

“How’s Mia?” The words had come out slowly, painfully. Mia was now history, but Gramps seemed to be getting lost in the river of time.

Answering was as painful as hearing her name. “She’s busy with school,” he’d said. Then he’d switched to a subject he knew both he and Gramps would enjoy, spinning out a tall tale. “We just finished picking the apples. A bumper crop this year. That reflective material we put down really works, Gramps. And the newer trees we trellised are doing well. It’s a much better way to grow fruit.”

Colin had suggested that back when he was seventeen. He’d been doing some research and had read several articles on growing trees in a V shape, which allowed more sunshine to the apples on the lower branches and easier access for the grower. Gramps had been taken with the idea, and he and Colin had worked together on it.

They’d always worked well together. Colin appreciated his grandfather’s easy smile and his love of the land. “Growing food and growing a family, the two best things a man can do with his life,” Gramps used to say. He’d done a good job of both.

He ate up Colin’s lie with a spoon, nodded and slurred, “Keep...it up.”

When Colin left, the old man was making that half smile, showing himself well pleased with his grandson’s visit and the news of a bountiful harvest. It was a joyful delusion.

Frowning, Colin read on.

But I reminded myself to be grateful for all the years we’d had the place and to be thankful that I still had my family and friends. And I was so happy when I found my new house. It wasn’t very big but it was sweet and it had an apple tree. When I saw that, I knew it was for me.

I worked hard to give my family more happy times in that little house, and I think I succeeded. If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that living and loving together is what makes life worthwhile. It’s not so much where we live but how we live. Cultivating lifelong friendships, making a difference where you are, and, of course, finding a life partner who truly knows you and
will stand by you, no matter what. Those are the things that are truly important.

Never giving up, that’s important, too. After I lost my dear Gerald, I was sorely tempted to. But to stop living when your heart’s still beating and your brain still works is an insult to God. So I kept going and had a few more adventures.

Now that’s all I’m going to say. You’ll learn about the rest of my adventures soon enough. The rest of this journal is blank. I’m leaving it to you to fill the pages.

Mia was crying now and Colin was feeling squirmy. Gram’s words about living and loving together had poked a nerve. And what about never giving up? He had done just that, tossed his dreams out the window the minute he exited the freeway in Seattle. After reading about everything his grandma had accomplished, well, failure was too kind a word for him.

His cell phone rang.
Guess who.
He answered reluctantly.

“I’m going to visit with Muriel,” Mia said as Lorelei asked, “How’s it coming?”