Road Trip (5 page)

6

The next day passed uneventfully, though slowly. As the states grew larger, Annie missed that feeling of making rapid progress that came from changing states so quickly. Everyone stayed in good humor throughout the day, however, and they chatted pleasantly.

Annie most enjoyed taking her turn at the wheel of the SUV. She had to admit to a thrill of power at the higher seat. She hadn’t driven one in some time and had never really wanted such a large vehicle. The frequent need to stop to refuel was one good reason. Plus, LeeAnn would never forgive her. One of her daughter’s favorite rants was about how SUV drivers thought they owned the road. From the driver’s seat, Annie could almost understand the feeling. It would be easy to get carried away.

After a while, Annie noticed that each time she looked into the rearview mirrors, she saw the same dark van following them. The sun had come out, and the glare on their windshield made it nearly impossible to see who was driving. Since it wasn’t unusual to see the same vehicle over and over on the interstate, she didn’t pay it that much attention at first. Then she noticed that every time she changed lanes, the van changed lanes.

“Can y’all see that dark van behind us?” Annie asked.

Mary Beth was in the passenger seat, and she flipped down her sun visor to look into the mirror mounted on it. “I see it,” she said. “The windows have that dark tint, don’t they? Dark windows like that always make a vehicle look so ominous.”

“I think they’re illegal in some states, aren’t they?” Kate asked as she turned to look out the back window of the SUV. “They make it hard for police officers to see what’s going on in a car if they have to approach it.”

“Maybe they aren’t as dark as they look from here with the sun on it,” Mary Beth said. “Why did you want us to look at it, Annie?”

“It’s following us,” Annie said.

“Following us?” Stella’s voice was doubtful. “We are on the interstate. I imagine a lot of vehicles have been close to us for some time.”

“But the van changes lanes every time we do,” Annie said, though her words sounded a little paranoid even to her ears. “Maybe I’m just jumpy after last night.”

“I know I am,” Kate said supportively. “I don’t blame you for keeping an eye out.”

“Still, I’m being silly. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

Mary Beth tactfully changed the conversation by asking everyone where they should stay for the night. “I’m thinking we’ll probably be somewhere in Tennessee.”

“Oh, that will be fun,” Kate said. “Will everyone there talk like Annie?”

Annie laughed. “I think a Tennessee accent is a good bit different from a Texas accent. But we
all
say ‘y’all.’”

Mary Beth and Kate took turns teasing Annie about her Southern accent compared to their Maine pronunciation of words. Annie told a funny story about some problems she had understanding some of the Maine accents when she first moved to Stony Point. “I had asked Mike at the hardware store what he recommended for fall leaves,” she said, “and he told me to wrap the leaves in a ‘top.’ I had no idea what that was. The top of what?”

Mary Beth laughed. “I’m sure he meant a tarp.”

“Except that in Texas, ‘tarp’ and ‘top’ don’t sound like the same word the way they do when you say them,” Annie said, chuckling at the memory of her confusion.

When they finally stopped for the night in Tennessee, Annie felt stiff and achy all over. She was glad they only had one more driving day left. She carried the box of Gram’s things into the hotel along with her luggage. “I know it’s silly,” she said, “but it’ll be good for my peace of mind.”

Her friends were kind enough not to tease her about it, and Annie found that she slept soundly. After a breakfast that included grits, which all of the Stony Point group rated as “quite tasty,” they set out on the last day of the drive in high spirits.

They made amazingly good time, managing to avoid traffic bottlenecks, road work and accidents. Still, when the bossy voice of Mary Beth’s GPS finally announced, “You have reached your destination,” just as they pulled into the entrance of the huge conference hotel in Fort Worth, everyone in the SUV cheered—even Stella.

Mary Beth found a spot in the parking garage that was wonderfully close to an elevator. Then everyone loaded up with luggage, and they headed for the
real
beginning of their adventure—the convention.

When they entered the lobby of the hotel, Annie looked around in admiration. The marble floor shone in the morning sun so brightly that it looked more like an ice skating rink than a floor. Tall pillars broke up the space between the front door and the lobby, and each pillar was encircled by padded seating upholstered in a rich gold fabric. On the floor around the seating stretched a band of carpet in a striking mosaic that mixed both warm and cool colors.

With so much marble, the look could have been cold—even sterile—but the hotel management had warmed up the space with scattered seating nooks filled with overstuffed furniture and lots of greenery. Annie saw groups of women in many of the chairs and sofas. Since many wore crocheted or knitted sweaters, or carefully embroidered blouses or jackets, Annie assumed many were at the hotel for the same convention as they.

Annie’s low heels clicked against the marble as they walked across to the front desk. Just as she finished checking in, she heard someone call out, “Mary Beth!” The whole group turned.

A slender man with snow-white hair, wire-rimmed glasses with a neatly trimmed white beard strode toward them, beaming. “I’m so happy you’ve arrived,” he said. “I received the items you shipped, finally. It was such an ordeal, but everything arrived safely.” He eyed the cardboard box Annie carried. “Is that full of more items for the Betsy Holden display?”

“Yes,” Annie said. “I’m Annie Dawson.”

“Oh, please forgive me,” the man said. “I’m being horribly rude. I’m Carlton Gold from the Golden Needle Company. I’m delighted to meet you, Mrs. Dawson. I admired your grandmother tremendously.”

“So did I,” Annie said with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Carlton,” Mary Beth said. “This is my assistant and dear friend Kate Stevens. And this is Stella Brickson, the woman from Betsy’s cross-stitched portrait.”

Mr. Gold bowed slightly to each woman, and then smiled at Stella. “I am hoping you’ll join us onstage at the ceremony to honor Betsy. I know everyone will love seeing the inspiration for the portrait.” Then he seemed to have a new thought, and he clapped his hands. “I know, we could call you up. That would be much more dramatic.”

Stella smiled slightly. “Whatever you think is best.”

At that Mr. Gold turned back to Annie. “So, if you’ll trust me with that box, Mrs. Dawson, I’ll go and finish the display while you all settle into your rooms. Then I would love to show all of you what we’ve set up. The display is in exhibit room four. Perhaps we could meet there in fifteen minutes? Would that be enough time?”

“I think we could manage that,” Mary Beth said.

“Excellent!” Again Mr. Gold clapped his hands before taking the box from Annie and hurrying away.

“He’s very enthusiastic,” Annie said as they turned and headed toward the elevators to head up to their rooms.

“Carlton is always like that,” Mary Beth said.

“Carlton?” Kate said, raising an eyebrow. “I thought he was ‘Mr. Gold’.”

“Actually, I’ve chatted with Carlton at other events,” Mary Beth said. “I carry a lot of Golden Needle kits, as you well know.”

Annie looked at her friend curiously. She had never really thought of Mary Beth as having a possible romance. It might be interesting.

“So—it’s all strictly business,” Kate said, her voice teasingly mocking.

“Oh yes,” Mary Beth said before bursting out laughing. “Um, I don’t think Carlton actually likes women
that way
.”

So much for romance, Annie thought. Then she chided herself for her own imaginings. They were at a beautiful hotel, and they were going to a convention that featured her favorite crafts. Romance was sure to be the last thing on anyone’s mind.

It didn’t take long for Annie to hang up the clothes from her suitcase and put her toiletries away. She longed to call LeeAnn and chat for a while. She was eager to hear when her daughter might make the drive over. Maybe she would call her after they looked over the exhibit. Then she’d have even more to tell LeeAnn when they chatted.

She stashed one of the room keycards in the pocket of the cardigan she’d slipped into. The Texas sun might be blazing outside, but the air conditioning in the hotel made Annie feel as if she were freezing.

When she stepped off the elevator into the lobby again, she spotted the rest of her group at the nearest seating oasis. “I’m sorry,” Annie said. “Did I keep you waiting?”

“Not a bit,” Mary Beth said as they all stood. “We really all just got here.”

“I decided to unpack after we see the exhibit,” Stella said. “I plan to go back to my room and rest a bit until dinner. I can unpack then.”

“Do we know where we’re going?” Annie asked. “I didn’t look at my packet at all.”

“I did,” Mary Beth said. “Follow me.”

The group strode down one of the many long halls that led off the lobby. The doors were labeled with names like “Bowie Hall” and “Austin Room.”

“We’re looking for the Zavala Room,” Mary Beth said. “That’s exhibit room four.”

They soon found it. The room was fairly small for the huge hotel, but Annie guessed it was about the same size as the whole ballroom of Maplehurst Inn back in Stony Point. She was surprised to see several small displays set up, some on tables and some freestanding. She looked around curiously as they walked toward the back of the room where Mr. Gold was working.

Mr. Gold stood in front of the large display that stretched across the whole back of the room. He turned at the sound of their approach and smiled to them. The women had walked about half the length of the room when Annie heard Kate gasp. “That’s my dress!”

They stopped and looked at one of the freestanding displays. The beautiful dress was carefully arranged and pinned against a black velvet background. Annie took a step closer to admire the beautiful lace pattern that depicted a stylized rose design. Along with the dress, a lovely knitted shawl with long fringe was also on display, along with a peasant blouse with elaborate embroidery and tatted lace trim. “Your dress really is gorgeous,” Annie said.

“They must be using it to promote the show,” Mary Beth said, drawing their attention to the sign at the bottom of the display with the room and times.

“Just for the sneak peek at the displays. That begins in an hour,” Mr. Gold said as he came over to stand beside them. “They’ll be changing this particular display over dinner so everyone can wear their outfits for the fashion show rehearsal tonight.”

“Tonight?” Annie repeated.

“You really haven’t read your packet, have you?” Mary Beth said with a smile. “Good thing Carlton is in the know.”

The slender man smiled sheepishly. “I overheard some women talking when they set that up this afternoon while I was working on Betsy’s display. I haven’t actually read the packet either.” Then he winked at them. “I get all my best information from lucky bits of eavesdropping.”

Stella gave him a disapproving frown. “Perhaps we could see Betsy’s display now?”

“Of course,” Mr. Gold said, clearly not feeling intimidated in the least by Stella. “You must all tell me what you think of it.”

Annie blinked back tears as she looked over the tribute to her grandmother. It included a table with a freestanding display beside it. The table held the pillows Annie had brought. Each was cross-stitched with a small scene from around Grey Gables.

Annie’s favorite scene showed the porch with a wicker table near the front door. On the table sat a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses. The tradition of lemonade and conversation on the porch was part of every summer from Annie’s childhood, and it was one she continued now. She and Alice often shared lemonade and chats on the porch.

Another pillow portrayed the yard as seen from the window in Gram’s bedroom. Annie knew her grandmother loved to sit in her rocking chair by the window and look out at the flowers she had so lovingly planted. It was another tradition Annie made time for. So to Annie, each stitched scene of Grey Gables was both a memory and a slice of her ongoing life.

A three-sided backdrop sat on the table as well. It was hung with two small cross-stitch paintings of scenes in Stony Point. It also held the large scene of Butler Lighthouse that Mary Beth had borrowed from the public library for this event. But what surprised Annie most were the photographs of Gram that hung alongside the framed cross-stitched pictures.

One photo showed a young, excited Betsy looking up into the face of Charlie Holden with the love and joy that was a huge part of their marriage. The other photo was probably taken only a few years before Betsy died—but Betsy’s lined face still radiated with love. To Annie, the crow’s-feet and slightly faded blue in Gram’s eyes didn’t detract one bit from her beauty.

Annie blinked away tears as she turned to look at the portrait that hung from the freestanding display. It had been a couple months since Annie had seen the piece, but it was just as arresting as ever. It was a portrait of a very young Stella Brickson, seated in profile on a swing on the porch of Grey Gables. So striking was the mysterious and melancholic air in the portrait that it took the eye a few moments to spot the small inset images of locations around Stony Point also crafted into the piece.

“You made a wonderful display,” Annie said, her voice thick with emotion. “Where ever did you get the photos?”

“From Mike Malone,” Mary Beth said. “He had them in his hodgepodge of stuff from old issues of
The Point
. They were photos he’d printed in the paper for different events.”

“But Gram is so young in the first one,” Annie said. “Surely she didn’t merit a newspaper story yet then.”

“No, but your grandfather did,” Mary Beth said. “Mike said it ran with a story about Charles saving a dog that had been half-drowned in a storm. Betsy got to be in the photo because they took turns staying up all night with the dog.”