Chapter 27
ABIGAIL
So much for beautiful spring days. I”d secretly wished for a rainy one to go to the tax assessor”s office and find answers about my great-great-grandparents. Per my previous conversation with Mr. Brickner, I spread out the contents of the yellow envelope he gave me over a month ago. I”m not proud that I didn”t recognize the importance of those documents, but I”m older and wiser now, and I asked Elias to help me understand what I was looking at.
Clutching steamy cups of coffee, I picked up the document labeled Land Survey. ”One hundred and sixty acres looks so small on this page.” I chuckled at my wit.
Elias rolled his eyes. ”Let me put this in perspective for you.” He pointed to a bracket at the bottom of the page. ”This is called a legend. It gives you a reference for everything on the map or survey in this situation.”
I wasn”t stupid. I”d seen a map and a legend before. Wrapping your head around one hundred and sixty acres was like envisioning a billion dollars. You can”t do it if you”ve never seen it all piled up before you.
Wanting him to feel proud of me, I pointed to each symbol. ”Blue lines for rivers, bumps for hills, peaked bumps for mountains, and the line segment says one inch per ten acres, and there are—let me see —sixteen of them. What”s an acre?”
He palmed his beard several times, ”Well done, princess. An acre is about the size of two football fields, shy of the end zones.”
Doing the math, my head spun. ”Who the hell is going to mow all that grass? Not me!”
Elias bent over hysterically. What was he laughing at? He grabbed his stomach, his eyes watered, and he stomped his foot.
”What”s so funny?” I said indignantly. I would not be laughed at this way. I was serious about the grass.
”Princess, you are the funniest person I”ve ever met—mow the grass.” Laughter bounded from him again, and my ire was up.
I shook a finger at him and shrieked, ”Stop that!”
It took a minute, but he pulled himself together and wrapped his big arms around me in a bear hug. ”Abigail, no one cuts the grass. They never have, and we probably won”t either. Cows eat the grass. We farm the land. I”ll mow around the house and the eventual sculpture garden, and we”ll let nature do its thing. Sound good?”
Since he put it that way, that”s fine, though I really should stop more often and think about what I”m saying before I say it.
”Now that you”ve had your laugh, walk me through the rest of these.”
Elias took his time reading through each document, ensuring I understood them. The antique inventory I discussed with Mr. Brickner was magically there, and I almost fell off my chair when I read the bottom line.
”One and a half million dollars! For furniture and knick-knacks? I”m an heiress all over again. Christ! I almost gave those ugly lamps to Micah for nothing. Do you think I should hire someone to go through all the junk I want to toss in case it”s worth something?”
He rubbed his brow. ”It”s not a bad idea. I”m sure we could go through and get rid of the obvious junk, like those cactus beer mugs. Let”s go through all of it tomorrow and separate the junk. Call Micah to see if she wants to join us. We”ll have a party of it, okay?”
I climbed into his lap and kissed his delicious lips. ”Thank you, Elias. You do make my life better.”
He returned the kiss and pouted. ”You just like that I do stuff for you.”
I pouted back like a little girl, ”You do the best stuff, Daddy.”
I could feel his cock rise to the occasion, a sly grin forming on his lips, ”Only the best for my little girl. Now get the fuck off my lap, or you can kiss this day goodbye.” He pushed me gently to the floor and stood abruptly to march out of the room.
Guess who”s laughing now?
Thankfully, the tax assessor”s office was open on Friday. This was another historic building with elaborate moldings and beautiful staircases. They were everywhere, from the library to the school we passed on the way over, this building, and the bank we needed to stop at next. I”m not a history buff—though I”ve seen enough historic signs when our eighth-grade class went to Washington, D.C.—but living in Mystic was a step back in time.
The lobby sign directed me to the second floor, and I knocked on the appropriate door. A woman in her fifties, wearing an audacious pair of neon blue glasses, greeted me kindly. ”Well, hello to you two. How can I help you today?” She studied me and Elias and made whatever assumptions she might, inviting us to have a seat.
I slid off my slicker and put my purse in my lap. Elias had the envelope of the articles I had Micah copy from the library, and, with any luck, I”ll have another treasure trove of data to think about.
”I”m Abigail Farnsworth-Burton, and this is my friend, Elias. We”re here to look through some historical documents regarding my family. Could you help us?”
I barely finished speaking as the woman”s face turned ashen. Why did people keep doing that when I introduced myself?
She sipped her water bottle and cleared her throat. ”I heard you”d moved to Mystic. What a lovely surprise to have a member of the Farnsworth family back with us.”
I looked at Elias, then back to the woman. ”How long has it been since a Farnsworth lived here?”
She didn”t move her mouse, or look in a file; she knew exactly how long it had been. ”Twenty-five years.”
”I”m sorry we didn”t catch your name.” It wasn”t a question, and, by the tone of his voice, Elias must have known she was holding back information.
She shook her head nervously, answering weakly, ”Excuse me, I”m Mrs. Hutchinson. Ellen Hutchinson.”
Elias sat back in his seat, telepathically giving me the go-ahead to continue.
I nodded my head once. ”Mrs. Hutchinson, there seems to be a great deal of information about my family that I”ll need your help discovering. Are you ready for a million questions?” My grimace was intended to be friendly, but I knew something was up, and I wouldn”t stop until I knew everything about this place, my family, and the people who befriended them or hated them.
Mrs. Hutchinson stood, pressing her hands together. ”Let”s get started then. Follow me.”
Elias and I silently followed Mrs. Hutchinson, holding hands as we walked down three flights of stairs into the archive room.
”Please don”t be daunted by the sheer magnitude of the documents in these boxes,” she pointed out, ”This wall houses almost every document from Mystic”s inception to the turn of the twentieth century.”
Like the volumes of old books I”d already looked through, Ellen recited the protocol for interacting with them. Elias seemed impressed. ”The office is open until four-thirty. Please let me know when you”re finished, or I”ll come to you just before closing. Do you have any questions?”
”Elias, would you pull out the last article in the envelope? I think it will help Mrs. Hutchinson understand the importance of my findings.” He grinned, knowing exactly what card I wanted to play in this poker game. He handed her the article, and we waited for the expected outcome.
Her jaw dropped, and the paper slapped her thighs. ”You know,” was all she could utter.
I closed my eyes, relieved that my intuition guided me right where I needed to be. ”I do. It seems great-great-granddaddy won big in the war against Mexico. If I”m not mistaken, his contracts with the government for timber and food brought this area quite a few perks—this building, for instance.”
I could barely contain my glee when Elias touched my shoulder.
”Mrs. Hutchinson, we aren”t here to stir up any controversy; we are only here to learn all the details of how the Farnsworth Estate came to be and who the last family members were to live in the house. Thank you for your assistance; we”d like to get started.”
The assessor left the room, her brows creased and her voice mumbling under her breath. I wasn”t sure why she was so conflicted. It wasn”t her issue, only her problem to help us. There was more to this story, but today had already been a big win for me. Ezekiel and Agatha Farnsworth became more and more real every time I dug up their past. So far, I”d only learned good things about them; I hope today would be more of the same.
Our time was almost up, and we tabbed over a dozen pages we thought were important. Ezekiel was a crafty dude and very well respected. He sat on several village boards and appeared to have a way of doubling or tripling his efforts yearly. He wrote several doctrines on behalf of the Whig party, encouraging progress and using Mystic”s resources to fund them. I suppose when he hit it big, he didn”t wait for progress; he made it himself. The question was, did my family still own these ”effects of progress.” That was my goal, and I wouldn”t stop until I found out.
”Did you have fun, princess?” He smacked my ass as I climbed into his truck. Fun? Interesting choice of words.
”More validated than fun, I”d say. Seeing the look on Mrs. Hutchinson”s face—that was fun. Great fun, in fact. I thought she”d pee her pants when I showed her that article.” I giggled, buckling my belt.
”She”ll definitely have a skid mark in her undies today. You”d have thought I”d found the key to some national secret. I wonder what they”re all hiding?”
That”s the million-dollar question.
I looked over the notes we made, and a thought occurred to me. ”Do you think that they think we”re going to make a stink about taking these buildings back? What do I need with a park? I already have a one-hundred-and-sixty-acre park. I”m happy they have a great school, library, bank, and everything my family provided. If Seneca comes through as planned, the Farnsworth family will have a community garden. They should be happy I”m back—of course, they don”t know that yet.”
Elias rounded several curves on our way back home, lost in thought.
”All that would make sense, but something happened between your great-great-grandparents dying and the last Farnsworth leaving. Maybe you”ll write the next Great American Mystery in your free time when you figure out why.”
Too tired to respond, we hummed our agreement.
Dinner awaited when we arrived, and Elias went for a beer.
”Any luck, you two? Is the name Farnsworth worth anything around here?” Seneca flipped burgers in a pan and tossed caramelized onions and mushrooms in another. It smelled so good, and not having to cook felt luxurious.
I kissed her cheek, grabbed the buns off the counter, and placed them on the table. I gathered condiments from the fridge and answered her questions.
”Funny, you should ask. The Farnsworth name dates back to pre-1832, and the family owned half of this town. To answer your first question, hell, yeah, we found a goldmine of answers.
Seneca turned off the heat and pivoted toward me. ”You”re not fucking with me? You own this town, village, whatever?” Her expression of dismay was priceless.
I filled three water glasses and answered, ”Not the whole place,” and burst into laughter. ”The downside to all this information was that the tax assessor, Mrs. Hutchinson, and probably others, think I”m up to something. Me? The one who can”t put a solid plan together is trying to take over a tiny village in Connecticut? They”re off their rockers if they think I could pull that off.”
Elias sat silently, pondering my predicament. Of what exactly, neither of us knew. That was a great mystery, and I didn”t have time to worry much about it. I had renovations to make, gardens to plant, and a business to establish. All this other bullshit would have to wait.
He took a long pull from his bottle and picked at the label. ”The way I see it is these people will come forward out of fear and disclose their issues. You sit tight and wait for them to come to you. Maintain the upper hand. It”s a good strategy.” He pursed his lips and nodded, affirming his plan.
”Did you pick up this strategy from sports or CSI shows?” I was being a brat, and he took the bait as planned.
”I”ll have you know, I”m not only pretty, I”m smart, and, yes, my wrestling coach beat that concept into my mind for years. It worked almost always, so why recreate the wheel?”
”Do you think there was espionage, murder, or, better yet, a Hatfield vs. McCoy family war? Ooh, that would be juicy.” Seneca loved family wars, especially mafia ones. What if Big Man Farnsworth was a villain? You could have a target on your back, Abs.”
Oh my God! I”m going to have a panic attack.”STOP,” I yelled. ”It”s none of those things—I hope. Can we drop this for now? It”s giving me anxiety, and I want to enjoy your burgers.”
”Sorry, Abs. Let me get the sweet potato fries out of the oven, and we can eat.” Seneca finished gathering our food, and Elias spun his bottle on its edge.
I gave him a look, ”What”s with you?”
”I don”t know if I want to open a shop on Farnsworth property. Your reputation could kill my business,” Elias deadpanned.
I smacked his arm hard. ”Fuck off, Elias. My reputation is spectacular, and I haven”t given you one reason not to stay here.” Okay, maybe I had, but we were past that.
He rubbed his arm like a mosquito had bitten him. ”Like I said earlier, you are entertaining if not nuts.”
I gasped, feigning hurt. ”But you love my nuts!”
He choked on his beer. ”I think you have that backward, Abigail. It”s my nuts, you love.”
”O M G! Will I have to sit with you two, sexing up our dinner? Knock it off.”
We were ashamed enough to blush, sending silent promises for a rematch later. Dinner was terrific, and Elias shooed us out of the kitchen while he cleaned up. I wouldn”t fight him on it, so Seneca and I snuggled up on the parlor sofa with her garden plans.
”Before I begin, I”ve laid my concept out in stages, so don”t freak out when you see what I did. First, I”ve divided the garden into genres: edible, fragrant, and meditation. We”ll put the edible garden closest to the driveway so you don”t have so far to collect them, and, if you decide you”d like it to be a community garden, it would be easier for people to access it. See, I left a huge gap between it and the next garden, so you have room to expand.”
My friend was totally in her element, and, as she explained the rationale behind her plans, I saw her come alive. She hadn”t been as passionate about anything since she got an A in biology and promised to become a biologist. It was exciting then, though seeing her morph into her true calling inspired me to support her efforts.
”I”m in shock, Sen. You have truly outdone yourself. You thought of everything for the present and the future. I can see it now: a dozen gardeners reaping the fruits of their labor and bringing our neighborhood a place to share its joy of the earth. Well done, friend.”
I kissed her cheek and laid my head on her shoulder. Looking at the sketches, I pointed to a section by the barn. ”What”s this?”
”I love this next garden. It”s all about fragrances. I have to research to find the best blend of smells, like roses with something else. Lavender is paired with another plant that blends well. Does this make sense?”
”I like vanilla with both of those plants. I also enjoy lemongrass with oranges or mint. You have a lot of research to do. I wouldn”t even know what would grow well in this area.”
Elias entered with a tea tray with some fudge cookies I had stashed at the back of the pantry. ”I”m a fan of sandalwood and patchouli.” He set the tray on the table and poured each of us a mug of hot water.
”Aren”t you a man of many interests?” Seneca said haughtily, snagging a ginger-orange tea bag.
”He”s a renaissance man,” I injected proudly.
”He”s something, alright,” Seneca muttered. ”Come to think of it, you arrived at the best part, the meditation garden. You”re building that one,” she looked down her nose and pointed in his direction. He was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.
”Abs, you”ll help me with the design. I was thinking of having two designs. The first would be simple, like a heart or butterfly; it would be easy to navigate without being boring. The second would be more Zen, with signage of meditative thoughts from the masters, water features, and stone sculptures. I want the path to reflect ascension, you know, like when you”ve finished walking through it you reached your higher self.”
”Geezus, Seneca. You have put real thought into this. I”m so proud of you. Would you print some pictures of paths you like? Elias, I”m sure, could build whatever you like, but I want it to be accessible to anyone. I wouldn”t want to exclude someone because they had to hop from stone to stone.” I had my mental challenges to deal with, and I wouldn”t want to alienate a guest due to their disabilities.
Elias put his cup down, ready to jump into this conversation. ”Not only can I build it, but we can get an ADA certification to promote your gardens as accessible for the handicapped. If we combed your property, we could find most of what we needed regarding structure. Seneca, would you create a detailed drawing, and can we add some numbers to the project? As you said, building this in phases would be best. This project sounds costly.”
I patted my friend”s hand and reassured her that her vision was appreciated and doable. ”I want you to know how incredibly impressed I am with you. Your vision of three magnificent gardens will happen over time. I want to commit to your first garden immediately, with the provision that we”ll make it as accessible as possible. I also want to have some signs showing your future project. We”ll stake them in the areas you”ve recommended. It will signify to the community and us that we are committed to our visions.”
Seneca shed the first tear, and I followed suit, dazed and amazed at what our brains conceived.
Elias shook his head at our blubbering. ”You two have no fucking clue how easy those ideas are in comparison to the actual work necessary to get all these projects completed. Tell me again, Abigail, how much money do you have to work with?”
Another million-dollar question.