Secrets At Maple Syrup Farm (29 page)

With the paintings, safely tucked behind the seats, Lil drove me back to the farm. Our chatter had fallen away, as we approached the front gate. The sun was sinking for the day, the orange of it spilling across the hazy sky.

I sensed Clay wasn’t in the cottage. Everything was too still. It was like the farm was holding its breath, waiting for him too.

“Need help?” Lil asked. I shook my head no, just in case Clay was inside. It bothered me, leaving something so valuable in the cottage for anyone to find, but surely he wasn’t far away. The irony hit me hard. Maybe he was waiting for me to leave.

I pushed open the door, and called his name. As expected, no response.

I propped the paintings next to the bedside tables in his room, the only place where sunlight wouldn’t affect them because thick curtains blocked out the light. The sweater he’d been wearing was thrown onto the bed in a messy crumple, which was so unlike Clay. I snatched it up, and buried my face in it, just in case I never got to inhale his scent again. I folded it and placed it on the buffet. Caressing the leather covers of the journals once last time, I put them in a neat stack on the bedside table.

With a heavy heart, I headed back outside where Lil was patiently waiting, her eyes questioning. I shook my head, and her smile dropped.

***

Back at the B and B, I studiously avoided Rose, begging off with a headache. I wanted to be alone. For a moment, I wished I still had the old man’s journals. I’d found his musings a comfort. I’d miss reading his scrawls, and eyeing his sketches. Even though he was gone, he’d felt like a friend. I’d gotten to know a version of him, one not many people would have known. And even though in reality he was someone famous, I would only ever think of him as Jessup, the man who loved a woman above all else.

If Clay didn’t want to see me, then in two days the Sugaring-Off Festival would be a disaster. He wasn’t a people person, and had asked to make sure I dealt with the crowds while he helped out behind the scenes. I’d joked that it was time he showed his face and stopped the gossip, but he’d just given me a rueful smile, and said, maybe.

I tried to call him, but his cell rang out. Eventually it was switched off.

The day had taken its toll and I fell into a restless slumber. When I woke early the next morning, murky dreams were just out of reach, my head clearing, as the hazy memory of sleep evaporated. And then it all came rushing back. Clay. The farm. The festival.

I threw back the covers, and dressed quickly. I wouldn’t take no for an answer today. He would hear me out and if he decided he couldn’t handle it I’d leave directly after the Sugaring-Off Festival, instead of a few days later, as promised.

I’d put too much work in to walk away, and leave it all on his shoulders, but he’d have to hear me out, goddamn it. I didn’t want to let Lil or CeeCee down, or the plethora of townsfolk who’d donated their time.

I breezed past the Gingerbread Café. Lil was there, hands deep in a bowl, mixing something sweet.

“Any word?” she said, when the jingle of the doorbell announced my arrival.

“Nope. And he’s not answering his phone, either. I’ll head there anyway.”

She nodded, giving me a sad smile. “What about the festival? Should we cancel it? I was going to bake today, and have everyone get there early tomorrow to help you set up…”

I mustered a determined look. “No, the festival will go ahead. I’m not letting my mistake ruin the amount of effort everyone’s put in. Plus Clay needs it. Everyone within a fifty-mile radius will know the farm is back up and running.”

“Great.” Lil’s face brightened. “Let’s make it a huge success then. And don’t worry about Clay. I’m sure he’s realized by now, and is probably waiting for you at the farm. I’ll make a start on our menu, and you meet me back here whenever you can.”

We had the menu planned like we were going into battle, cook times and the order in which we’d do everything was neatly written out, and now I was throwing a spanner into the works, by racing back and forth. “Let’s hope he’s there, otherwise, I’ll have to work through the night to get it all done.”

She waved me on. “Go see, and it’ll be all hands on deck, if we need to.”

With a curt nod, I waved as I rushed out of the café, mentally checking off things I had to do, and putting them in order of priority. It helped assuage the guilt about Clay, and allowed me to focus on not letting the town down.

At the farm there was a slight breeze, the glorious red maple leaves fluttered hello. I smiled at the thought Persephone and her friends were happy to see me. If I hadn’t read the journals, would I still have been in awe of them, the way I was? From the way my mother taught me to appreciate beauty, I think I would have. The sun was high in the sky, and radiated down, its fingers of light settling on beds of flowers, making the pinks, bright fuchsia, and the oranges almost red. The property was alive with color, vivid and bold and inviting. I had no time to gaze at the scene before me. I raced up to the cottage, and tumbled through the door.

I called out for Clay, just like I’d done yesterday, but there was that same stillness. Only patches of muted sun shining in spots on the floorboards. No noise, no shower scent, nothing out of place in his organized home.

It was hard not to let anger bubble through me. I’d explained and surely that was enough? I hadn’t actually done anything, except have a ten-minute mind battle with myself. Arms crossed, I walked to the bedroom. The bedside tables sat solemnly bereft of the journals. And no paintings rested against the grainy wood.

I jogged outside to the barn, and hefted the door open. There was only a dot of oil, a small spill, where his truck would have been. I swung between fury and sadness. How could he walk out when we had so much to do?

I slammed the barn door shut and went to the porch, flopping down in the love swing. It smelled of him. I pushed the tips of my feet on the deck, and swayed gently, thinking of Mom, and Clay, and what would happen next.

My cell phone rang, and I hastily scrambled for it in my pocket.

“Lucy, my darling, I’ve got—”

“Mom…I made a huge mistake.”

The rustle of bed linen greeted me, as I guessed she tried to pull herself into a sitting position.

“Baby mistakes are a part of life. It means you’re trying. I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

I grimaced at the thought of telling her. “It is. It is bad, and now Clay’s gone. And the festival is tomorrow. I’m supposed to leave for Paris soon when all I want is to come home to you.”

“What happened with Clay?” She easily sidestepped my wish to be back in Detroit.

“Long story short, it’s that he thinks I was going to sell some valuable paintings of his, and leave. And I did consider it. But only so I could help us, get you a home of your own. He doesn’t believe me.” Mom wouldn’t have the energy to listen to the whole saga nutted out.

“If he knows you well enough, he’ll know you just aren’t like that.”

“He’s gone. I’m at the farm and he’s not here.”

“Do you love him?”

“More than anything.” It was like being winded, admitting it to her. I loved a guy who didn’t trust me and never would.

“Well, then, you find him, and you make things right.”

“What about you, Mom? I can’t leave you there.”

“You made me a promise, baby. And you’re gonna stick to it and also—”

I interrupted, trying to convince her I should come home. “Sometimes I think why fight fate? You know? Maybe painting isn’t for me. Paris is so far away… You and me, we’re just everyday people. I’m not a fashionista, or a foodie. I probably won’t fit in there. And all for the sake of an art course that takes me away from you. For what? On the off chance one day someone sees something in my work? I’d rather do double shifts all day long, and be with you.” It was hard to keep my voice from shaking. I’d never felt so far away than at that moment. That urge to be with my mother almost took over.

“You’re only thinking maudlin like that because of Clay. You’ve got such a bright future in front of you, baby, you just have to trust me. You have to trust
yourself
. You can work yourself to the bone in the diner, sure, but why waste that God-given talent you have? Do you know how many people are still wondering where their passion lies? Or what they want to do with their life? But you know… The world is open to you, Lucy. Can’t you see? All you gotta do is take the opportunities in front of you and learn from them. You’re just as good as anyone else is. Who cares if you’re not into fashion or food—you’re into art, and Paris is going to be a whole new world of discovery for you.”

I bit my lip.

“Now go on and find that man of yours. The love god. And make things right. The reason I called is…Aunt Margot is here.”

“She is?”

“There’s a new place that’s opened up near them, in New Hampshire. A facility like this, but more nurses and less patients, sorry,
residents
, I’m supposed to call us.” She laughed and it sounded like sunshine. “So I’ve agreed to move there, to be closer to Aunt Margot, and…it’s only three hours away from Connecticut…” She let the words flow over me so I caught their meaning. It’d be a leisurely drive from Ashford? “But, Mom are you sure? What’s changed Aunt Margot’s mind all of a sudden?” It was too neat, Aunt Margot walking back into our lives and wanting to make it better. What could we repay her with? What was she expecting from us?

“I’ll put her on,” Mom said over the rustle of bed linen, as she passed the phone.

“Hello, darling. No doubt you’re asking why the swift change of direction from me?” Her silky voice was more relaxed than usual.

“I have to say I am, Aunt Margot. You go from not talking to us for years, and now this? I know all about the promise Mom made to you. How could you have wanted to take her daughter from her? I’m all she’s got.” Who would do that to a person?

“Yes,” she said, a slight bitterness creeping in. “You know, Lucy, I loved you from the very moment I laid eyes on you. I was seething with envy, absolutely seething. Here was your mother, without a care in the world, without a proper home, not even a car, doing odd jobs and then having a baby. And then there was me, the perfect home, perfect marriage, so much love to give, yet unable to fall pregnant.”

The maples in the distance looked enchanting with their russet-colored leaves, waving in the slight summer wind like they were encouraging me to speak openly. “That doesn’t mean you try to take your sister’s child.”

She sighed. “I know, and really, I didn’t want to take you purely for the fact I couldn’t conceive. I honestly felt like you weren’t safe, living the way she chose to do. What if she ran out of money, which she often did—then what? I didn’t think you could have that lifestyle with a child in tow.”

“But you were wrong, Aunt Margot. I had the
best
childhood.”

One of Mom’s friends was sputtering in the background, the sounds of various TV channels muffling down the line. “I see that now, I do. I came up to visit Crystal and saw how much care she needs and how’s she living and I was just so disgusted with myself. I’ve let this silly fight fester for years over my pride, when she’s needed me more than ever. I should have been there to help you when things got really hard, instead of offering my help when you were a child, when it wasn’t needed.”

I let out a long breath. What a waste of so much time between sisters. The things they’d missed in each other’s lives was crushing. But there was still the future to look forward to. I’d make Clay see too I didn’t want to have a fight with him that spanned my entire life. It would poison me bit by bit if I didn’t make amends, but he had to understand too.

“So what now?” I asked, feeling roiling emotions, and hoping Aunt Margot meant what she said.

“Crystal moves closer to me, and I can spend my days with my sister, catching up on all the things we’ve missed out on because we were pigheaded. And it’s not going to be all sunshine and lollipops, I’m sure we’ll argue just as much as we did before, but this time, I won’t let it split us apart. She needs me, and I need her. I’m here from now on.”

My chest expanded with love for them both. I was proud they’d managed to make up and admit their mistakes. No doubt there’d be fireworks, because there always had been when they bumped heads, but that was siblings for you.

“I’m so glad to hear it, Aunt Margot. I was thinking I’d come back once I’m done here with the Sugaring-Off Festival…”

“Oh, no, no, you won’t. I’ve got things covered. I’ll put your mom back on.”

“There you have it, honey. So will this help you move on, and enjoy the rest of your vacation?”

Would it? I’d always worry, but I felt a damn sight better knowing Mom had family with her. “Yes, Mom, I guess so.” Maybe the world wouldn’t stop spinning if I spent more time away from Mom. While her voice was weak her will wasn’t.

“Now go and find the love god, and sort things out. I see a wedding on the cards for my baby.”

I scoffed. “That would be a miracle, Mom. I love you, and I’ll call you soon.”

Things had come full circle, and I couldn’t quite believe it. The fact Mom would have someone to visit her every day was a gift, and even better that it was her sister and they could be themselves.

I had to find Clay, and the piece of my heart that was missing.

***

Two hours later, back in Ashford, even the sight of customers milling in Walt’s store, running their hands over the smooth furniture, couldn’t produce a smile from me. Though I was happy for Mom and Aunt Margot, I still couldn’t find Clay. Would he even come back? Or was he waiting for me to leave?

The doorbell jangled a little too cheerily as I pushed open the door of the Gingerbread Café.

Seeing my hangdog expression, CeeCee clucked her tongue and said, “Still no word?”

I shook my head. “Lil told you?”

She gave me a sad smile. “She told me Clay’d left, but we knew the rest, anyways. You see, Jessup wasn’t such an enigma for all o’ us. There were a select few who knew his secret, and me and Lil were two of them. But we’d surely never tell another soul. Man’s gotta have friends, right?”