Chapter 15 #3
“Shall we give him a ring now?” Jessica checked the clock on the stove. “Five hours, right?” Kathleen nodded. “That means it’s three in the morning. Although that would depend on which time zone he’s in.”
Ashley cleared her throat. “My guess is Eastern Standard. Syracuse, remember?”
Jessica snickered. “Yes, you are correct.”
Emily asked, “Are we missing an inside joke?”
“Todd has a companion.” Jessica grinned over her mug of coffee.
“Oh, do tell,” Kathleen said mischievously and began to release the scones from the baking tray.
“Shall I fill her in?” Ashley asked.
“Be my guest.” Jessica nodded.
“When Mom and Dad were delivering me to Dartmouth, my father met my friend’s mother.
They became pen pals, if you will, and he visits her when he’s touring through Upstate New York.
Since we decided to come here for the holidays, he made plans with her.
” Ashley said it as if she were reciting a story.
She poured a cup of coffee. “And that’s really the size of it. He insists it’s platonic.”
All at once the four women burst out laughing.
Kathleen finally said, “That’s what they say when the woman isn’t interested in boinking the boy.
” The laughter continued, as did Kathleen.
“Not that I can attest to this on a personal level, but that little blue pill has been a curse to most women over forty.” More laughter ensued as she grabbed a set of tongs and dished out four scones.
“Although I don’t know what it’s going to be like when we get Henry back.
” Again, laughter. “I better figure out how to get rid of the cobwebs.” By that time everyone was doubled over.
Once Jessica regained her composure she added, “Mine has been closed for business for years!”
Ashley’s eyes bugged out. “Mother!” she exclaimed between the chuckles.
“Honey, get over it. This is life,” Jessica said calmly. Sex rarely, if ever, entered their conversations. But now she felt a sense of sisterhood with these brave, intelligent, and talented women. She had to admit: Her daughter was a woman now.
Emily shot a glance at her mother. “Mum, I don’t think this is a proper breakfast discussion.”
“Rubbish. We’re all grown-ups here.” Kathleen pretended to jeer at her daughter.
Emily decided it was time to change the subject. “Shall we go to the Christmas market this morning? We have plenty of time to do a little shopping, bring back our loot, and then head for Warwick.”
“No Ferris wheel for me, please,” Jessica implored.
“I think Emily and I should do it!” Ashley said with enthusiasm.
Emily had a dreamy expression on her face as she remembered her adventure with Blair. Riding one with her sister would be another one for the memory book. “Brilliant!”
The room was grew quiet except for the munching of scones. “Oh my gosh. This is divine!” Jessica said as the baked goodie crumbled on her chin.
“I’d come home more often if you’d make these more often,” Emily joked.
“I’ll bake some for you to take back,” Kathleen promised. She recalled how much Henry loved her apricot cake. If only the scent of her baked goods could bring him out of hiding. Nonetheless, she was going to bake one and bring it with them when they headed to Swindon.
She pulled herself out of her reverie. “The market opens at ten. Maybe we should start to pull ourselves together,” Kathleen suggested.
“Only after I stuff one more of these in my mouth,” Emily said gleefully.
An hour later they were in the throngs of holiday shoppers at the Christmas market. Jessica and Ashley noted that the markets resembled each other. Stalls, lights, music, the smell of fir trees, chestnuts roasting, was the formula. It was reassuring somehow.
Jessica’s phone buzzed in her pocket. It was Todd. “Ashley! It’s your dad!” She thrust the phone at her daughter.
“Ashley took the phone. “Hey, Dad! How are things across the pond?”
“All good here, honey. How’s your trip going?” he replied.
“It’s going great.” Ashley decided this was not the best time or place to drop this newly found information on him. “Listen, we are in the middle of our third Christmas market. Can I call you back a little later?”
“Sure, sweetie. Say hi to your mom. Bye.”
Ashley looked at her mother. “Dad says hi. I just didn’t think now was the right time to tell him all the news. I’ll call him later.”
Jessica nodded in understanding and went back to her shopping. She purchased the required ornaments and another scarf. Ashley opted for a knitted cap. After the past few days, she realized she was going to need more damp-weather gear.
Two hours went by quickly and the women headed back to Kathleen’s with armfuls of shopping bags. Again.
Once they delivered their bundles, Kathleen suggested a quick bite on their way to Warwick. “There’s a sweet kitchen along the drive. It’s the usual fare, but it’s good.”
“Woo-hoo! More fish and chips for me!” Jessica said happily.
Several minutes later they piled into Kathleen’s Volkswagen Golf.
Jessica sat in the front and the twins sat in the back.
As she started the vehicle, Ashley noticed it had a manual transmission.
“Oh, Mom. We would never have gotten out of the airport had I rented a car. I never drove a stick shift in my life!”
Jessica turned around and laughed. “Details, dear. Details.”
“Right. Pay attention.” Ashley recalled her mother’s advice.
They stopped for a quick lunch and got back on the road quickly.
As they left the dense urban area behind, they drove through miles upon miles of trees, backed by acres and acres of farmland.
As they approached the village of Warwick, white buildings with brown trim in the Georgian Tudor style lined the pristine streets.
They drove through the village until they came upon the stronghold from the Wars of the Roses: Warwick Castle.
Designed by William the Conqueror, in 1068, it was originally built from wood, but during the twelfth century it was rebuilt in stone.
Now, the 120,000 square foot fortress sits within sixty-four acres of beautifully landscaped grounds.
England has no short supply of castles and fortresses, but Warwick Castle is considered one of the most significant in England’s history.
The area was crowded with tourists. “Wow! This place is packed,” Jessica remarked.
“If only I had known you were in town I would have had the place shut down,” Kathleen joked.
“If only,” Emily teased back.
They made their way to the entrance and sidled up to the queue and waited for the tour to begin.
Two hours later Jessica purchased the required ornament from the gift shop, and they were back on the road toward Stratford-upon-Avon, the birthplace of William Shakespeare.
They agreed to make a quick stop at Ashley’s request. She was all atwitter and began talking about one of the papers she had written during her undergraduate work.
“Funny. Henry loved to read Shakespeare,” Kathleen said wistfully.
The twins looked at each other and Emily blurted out, “Not funny at all, Mum. Where’ve ye been the past two days?” The car erupted in laughter. It was true. The past two days were a cornucopia of coincidences.
On their way back to Birmingham, they stopped for the promised afternoon tea at The Ivory Temple Row.
Kathleen pointed out the difference between afternoon tea and high tea.
“High tea originated with the working class. A heavier and heartier fare. It’s served between five and seven and considered the evening meal.
Afternoon tea is a lighter fare served around four, with scones, biscuits, and finger sandwiches.
It was designed for the upper class. A social ritual,” Kathleen proclaimed.
“I didn’t realize it was so hoity-toity,” Jessica said with surprise. “I suppose we are going to have to act hoity-toity.” She held up her hands and mimed taking a sip of tea with her pinky pointing out.
“Just a little ‘hoity’ but not so much ‘toity’; however, you still have to balance your plate on your knee.” Kathleen chuckled.
Later that evening
Oliver was unusually nervous. This was his first date since his wife passed away.
He hoped she didn’t mind. He smiled at her photo, which was sitting on his dresser.
He also hoped the salesperson was right about the new suit.
“Very stylish,” the young gentleman said of the single breasted, single button, notched lapel, dark gray tweed.
They had a disagreement about the shirt.
The sales associate suggested a light gray, silk shirt, buttoned all the way.
No tie. Oliver was leaning toward a more conventional look with a gray and white pinstripe shirt and a gray tie.
Eventually he purchased both. The sales associate assured him he could return the one he did not like.
Oliver must have changed shirts three times before he finally went with the silk.
He had to admit: It was very stylish. Now his big challenge was his hair.
A few curls of his salt-and-pepper hair dangled on his forehead.
Should he comb it back? No. Too stylish.
He opted for a smidgeon of gel and ruffled his locks.
A little splash of Azzaro cologne, which was also recommended.
Oliver thought it was a bit pricey, but he liked it.
A lot. Funny thing. He hadn’t worn cologne in five years.
Now it gave him a bit of a zing. Or maybe it was the forthcoming evening.
He checked himself in the mirror, scrutinizing from top to bottom.
He fidgeted with his hair one more time.
It wasn’t Christian Bale staring back in the mirror, but maybe James McAvoy, the Scottish actor.