Scones and Sensibility (17 page)

Clementine’s fork dropped to her plate, startling me out of my reverie.

“Put a cork in it, Polly,” she said, dabbing at her moistened eyes.

Her tone startled me, since I was quite sure she was most excited about the evening when we would relive times gone by together. “I am sorry, dearest Clementine. Are you still in the abyss of wounded love? For remember, in just two evenings, we will
have so much fun that you will forget all about the boring boy who has laid waste to your heart.”

She parted her lips to speak but was interrupted by the telephone ringing, which she grabbed with much eagerness.

Dearest Edward already offering words of love and adoration?

“Hey, Clint,” she whispered, and then tucked the telephone between her shoulder and ear and left the room.

I arched my brows at the sound of Clint’s name. I really had hoped that I had heard the last of him. “Clint?” I directed my questioning look to Papa. “I thought we were rid of him.”

“Yeah, I guess they broke up. They’ve been talking on and off all afternoon.”

I dropped my own fork upon the porcelain plate and stood up. “I … I’ll be right back.” There was no time for explanations. I needed to hear Clementine and Clint’s conversation at once.

“Just a second, Polly,” Mama called from her place at the table. “What were you and Clementine planning to do in a few days?”

“Well, I was hoping to add cheer to her heart by
getting Macko’s pizza and collecting seashells as we did when we were younger.”

Mama nodded her head. “I know you’ve been missing Clementine, Polly, but she’s growing up, and so are you. You two are sisters, and that’ll never change, but things are a little different right now, and I just hope you don’t get your hopes up.”

The words stung my heart but a little, for I pushed them out of my mind. “Thank you, dear Mama. But I assure you that just like Jane Bennet, Clementine is in need of her sister in these hours of need. Now, if you will excuse me.”

Mama smiled. “Really, Polly, I think she just needs some time to work it out with Clint.”

I reached down and squeezed her hand in my own. “Thank you, Mama, but really, I am afraid I am quite persuaded on this subject and will not change my mind.”

She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “All right, Polly.”

I left the kitchen, tiptoed lightly up the stairs, and took a cup from the bathroom. Placing the open end against Clementine’s door, I pressed my ear to the other and listened intently.

“In two nights? Why so long? I’ll cancel whatever I need to.… All right,” Clementine said, and sniffled. “I miss you, too. I’ll be at Macko’s and we’ll talk.”

But that was when she and I were going to renew the bonds of sisterly friendship!

Surely this was a mistake. She would never treat me like something to be tossed so easily away, especially over the likes of Clint.

The phone clicked off and I made a hasty retreat to the lavatory and turned the faucet on so that I would not draw suspicion.

Her door opened, and I emerged from the bathroom. “Was that Clint?” I asked.

She smiled, the first hint of joy I had seen on her face the entire day. “Yep, we’re gonna meet up and talk, not tomorrow night, but the next night.” She sighed and whispered, “Everything will work out.”

“But, dearest Clementine, surely you haven’t forgotten about you and I going out on that evening?” I watched her face for some sign of remembrance but found none. My heart ached inside me. “Clemmy, you said we could go and get pizza and eat it at the beach and then collect seashells or something. You promised!”

She rolled her eyes in a manner that was quite
unattractive, especially considering the fact that she was backing out of her commitment to her own dear sister.

“Come on, Pol. I need to talk to him. Besides, I don’t remember promising anything or even agreeing to it. We can do that another time.”

And at that she brushed past me and down the stairs. “Clemmy!” I wailed after her. “You said we would! You’re so … so mean!” And then I retired to my bedroom, allowing the door to slam extra hard behind me as a sign of my wounded heart.

I fell upon my bed in a fit of tears and did not even attempt to dab at my nose when I felt it begin to run.

How could she? Did being a sister mean nothing to her? Did all our memories mean nothing? Did our sisterly bond produce no love or affection between us?

I cried harder at the thought that our bond would forever be broken and she would be lost to me forever. I did not try to suppress the tears from coming, for they would not have stopped even if I had used all my powers to restrain them.

“How could you?” I said aloud.

Clint.

Most likely this was all Clint’s doing. He probably persuaded her to break all commitments with me. The
great beast was once more a barrier between sisters, and Clementine was ruining a chance at true love with Edward. “Indeed,” I said aloud, wiping my stinging nose with a handkerchief and rubbing my burning eyes. “I will not let him ruin our sisterly bond.” And then I thought upon Edward’s arrival in the morning, for surely he would help make all things right once more. This thought comforted me a little and hope renewed itself inside me. “I truly hope that dear Edward’s words will awaken Clementine’s heart to his gentlemanly qualities and the eternal love that is to be had with him.”

Because if not, I must plan a different course of action.

T
he cheery sun beckoned me awake, as did the unfortunate scent of burning sugar. I arose at once and found myself drawn to the early morning dawn and the quiet solitude of the empty beach. The previous night was painful, yet I would not let go of hope.

I slipped into my pale-blue sundress and fastened my straw hat underneath my chin with the silky ribbon. Edward would surely not arrive so early, and I was in need of an awakening of the mind and heart that only the sea could provide. Thus I slipped by Clementine, who was uttering curses at a rather large bowl of batter.

I would return in time to offer Edward a most glorious selection of pastries, but I knew that I was in need
of the sound of the surf to sink deep into my being and prepare me for a new day of love in the making.

Outside the salty breeze tousled my hair, and I listened with rapture to the music of the birds crooning from the treetops. Once by the shore, I stooped upon the sand and plucked a smooth seashell from the shallow waves. Then I wrote upon the sand in beautiful script:

Clementine and Edward

Mr. Fisk and Miss Lucy Penny

Mr. Nightquist and Miss Wiskerton

And then I sat by the names, committing them to the ocean as the tide swept them to the place where the sea’s secrets are kept.

“What are you doing out this early, Polly girl?”

“Huh?” I jumped, startled by the sound of a deep voice from behind me. I looked up into the jovial face of Mr. Nightquist. He stood with one hand clutching a spool of string, the other a most beautiful and elegant kite. I stood. “My dear Mr. Nightquist, you quite startled me!”

“Sorry, Polly. I didn’t want to interrupt you, but I thought I’d say hello.”

“Indeed, I’m glad you did.” I gestured to the kite he held fast in his hand. “That one is beautiful indeed.”

He nodded and looked down. “It belonged to Miriam, my wife. If you think I’m good at flying kites, you should have seen her. She could really make ’em soar.”

“I am sure she could. I only wish that I had been acquainted with the beauty of character that I am sure she possessed.” I looked down at the waves of the ocean tickling the sand on the shore. “And may I ask how your lovely evening with the elegant Miss Wiskerton fared?” I gazed down at the shell in my hand, not wanting to sound as eager for every minute detail as I now was.

He smiled. “Good. She hasn’t gotten kite flying just yet, but she wants to learn. And she’s quite the cook, I’ll admit. I’m giving her another lesson this evening.”

Could it be? Were his cheeks blushing with anticipation? “I am so pleased, Mr. Nightquist. A more devoted lady no one could find.”

“Yeah,” he said.

“And how do you think your dear Melissa Anne and her family will view any developments with the elegant Miss Wiskerton?” Though I knew Melissa Anne to be very sympathetic and romantic, I was not sure if she would approve of her father loving another.

He fumbled with the kite, most likely caught up in
thoughts of his fair maiden. “Well, it’s not like there’s anything serious between Eugenia May and me yet, but actually, I think Missy would be happy. She’s been trying to set me up with someone for years, but I just never felt ready. Who knows if I’m ready now? But for some reason, lately I’ve been feeling like Miriam would actually like it if I loved again, so I’ll follow her lead.”

“Really? So you’ve tried to ask her what she thinks? That’s so sweet!” I declared, unable to contain my wonder at this new thought. Could it be that he was seeking her counsel this very morning?

“Sure. Miriam was always the one that I turned to for advice, and I’m not about to reject her judgment now.”

“Wow,” I said, then composed myself. “Mr. Nightquist, that is just so gentlemanly and noble of you!”

“Well, I don’t know about that, but I think she’s happy for me.”

“Good. And I am most thankful she is leading you to this, Mr. Nightquist, for if anyone deserves to be happiest in this life, it is you … and myself, of course, as well as my sister, my dear parents, and of course Fran and her father. But I am tending to those as we speak.” I squeezed his hand in mine and bid him farewell. “There are many deliveries to be made this
summer morn, so I must be off. Have a lovely evening with Miss Wiskerton.”

“Polly?” Mr. Nightquist called after me. “Miss Wiskerton mentioned the delicious pastries I’d given her the past few mornings. She was very grateful. I don’t suppose you know anything about them?” He raised one eyebrow in a suspicious manner, though I could tell his expression meant no malice.

Words fumbled inside my head, so I offered him a ladylike smile.

“Well, I suppose you can keep delivering them, though I always like to pay for my purchases. And I think I can take things from here. I might’ve been out of the game for a while, but I still got it in me.” He winked and I waved, relieved that he was not angry with me for working in secret.

Edward was just entering the bakery when I arrived at home, and I was able to sneak undetected through the back door. I had lingered too long at the sea, and now looked around at the carnage that Clementine had made of the muffins. Indeed, at that moment she was poking at a tray of blackened croissants that resembled misshapen pancakes.

“I think there is a customer out front, Clementine,” I said, dumping the croissants into the trash can and
handing her a tray of Danishes Mama must have made the previous night. “You better go take care of him,” I said, and then I pushed her through the doors and into the bakery.

I listened intently at the door and managed to find a sliver through which to see what was taking place.

“Hey, Clementine,” Edward said, most gallantly, I must say.

“Hi,” she said, most unaffected. Was there hope for my dear sister? “What can I get you?”

“Well, I guess I’ll take one of those Danishes. They look good.”

Clementine plopped one on a plate and handed it to him. Then she took his money without even gazing into his eyes!

Was all lost?

“I heard that you … you weren’t doing so good.”

She looked up and smiled. “Did Polly tell you that?” She shot a harsh glance toward the door and I cringed. “Well, yesterday wasn’t the best day I’ve had, but today should be better. Thanks for asking.”

He smiled. “Sure. Well, I can go with you two to get pizza if you would still like. I was able to switch with someone.”

Again Clementine focused her malicious gaze at
me. “Actually, we’re not going after all, so you’re off the hook.”

The pain over this broken commitment sprung up fresh inside me, but I refused to allow the tears to come at this moment.

He shrugged. “Oh, okay. Well, I better go. I’ll take the Danish with me.” He set the plate on the counter and started for the door. “I’ll see you around.”

“Sounds good,” Clementine said, and began wiping the countertop.

Ugh.

It seemed my sister was determined to ruin any chance at love that she had.

More extreme measures had to be taken.

With this thought heavy upon my mind, I took up the morning’s deliveries with a sigh. The pleasant ride to Miss Wiskerton would hopefully bring to my heart a fresh new idea for uniting my sister and Edward. And so I set out for that woman’s abode at once. Though Mr. Nightquist had stated he could “take things from here,” I still felt that my involvement was essential in case things should fall apart.

Miss Wiskerton lay reclined upon her lawn chair as I stopped and leaned my bicycle against her gate.

“Good morning, Miss Wiskerton,” I said, opening
the latch with a click and stepping on her small walkway. She sat up upon her dimpled elbows and lowered her sunglasses down upon her nose to gaze upon me in a prim manner.