Chapter Twenty-Two #2
“Ooh, I want to see the cabins. I’d love to stay in one.” Abby’s face lit up.
“Not as they are right now, you wouldn’t,” Kit assured her. “They’re not insulated, there’s no heat or electricity, and they’re a mess. Inhabited most recently by mice and God only knows what.”
Abby wrinkled her nose. “Mice can be talked into leaving and messes can be cleaned up. But the no insulation, no heat—deal-breaker.”
“But we can stay here, right, Kit? That would be fun.” Beth looked from Kit to Abby.
“I’ve been staying at the inn in town,” Kit said.
“Why when you have this whole big house?” Beth asked.
“Because it is a big house and it’s in a remote area, no neighbors, and it’s darker than you could possibly believe out here at night. I don’t feel comfortable since it’s so isolated,” Kit said.
“But it would be more fun for all of us to stay here. Like an old-fashioned slumber party.” Abby looked at her son, who was sitting on her lap and eating his sandwich, tiny piece after tiny piece. “Well, a slumber party with a two-year-old and no wine.”
“I know where we can get wine,” Kit told her. “The general store sells everything.”
“We should go there and get food and cook while we’re here.” Beth turned to Kit. “Have you been cooking?”
Kit shook her head. “I’ve been eating breakfasts and dinners mostly at Ruthie’s, a little restaurant down the street from Banks’s office. The food is wonderful. Nothing fancy, but wonderful.”
“Have you gotten sick of lobster yet?” Abby asked.
“Actually, I haven’t had any lobster since I arrived. I don’t know if they don’t catch it in the winter or if Ruthie’s just hasn’t been buying it. I should ask next time I’m there.”
“Let’s go there for dinner,” Beth suggested.
“I need to warn you. Everyone in town knew Maxine, and a lot of them remember Mom. You will have a dozen new best friends by the time dinner is over.”
“Well, who couldn’t use a dozen new best friends?” Beth turned to Abby. “What do you think?”
“I think it sounds like a good time, provided, of course, that I make a dozen new friends as well.”
“Not to worry,” Kit said. “The older ladies will be all over the boy-child.”
“Perfect. Benny loves adulation, don’t you, buddy?” Benny looked up at his mother and nodded. “And then we can come back here and cozy up for the night.”
“I don’t know,” Kit said. “The beds haven’t been changed in months—probably in years, and the blankets are undoubtedly dusty.”
“So we’ll wash them. There has to be some provisions for laundry here.” Beth stole a piece of crust that Benny had discarded and popped it into her mouth. Benny side-eyed her but kept chewing his bite of sandwich.
“Let’s go upstairs and check out the sleeping arrangements. A house as big as this one has to have more than a few bedrooms.” Abby stood and swung Benny onto her hip. “Lead the way, Mama. Let’s see if we can find accommodations for all of us right here in our ancestral home.”
Once upstairs, Beth asked, “Which was Maxine’s room?” Kit pointed to the door. Beth pushed it open. “Where’s the blanket chest?”
“The state police have it,” Kit told her. They shuffled out to the landing and began exploring the other bedrooms.
After some deliberation, it was decided that Abby and Benny would sleep in the double bed in the guest room, and Beth and Kit would sleep in the twin beds in Barbie’s old room.
“Do you think it’s weird or cool that you’ll be sleeping in your mom’s childhood bed?” Abby asked from the doorway.
“Weird? Maybe, or maybe not, since we don’t know which of these beds our mom slept in. So it’s not weird unless we make it weird. I can pretend Aunt Beth is in Mom’s bed, and she can imagine it’s me,” Kit said. “Same goes for if it’s cool. Maybe, or maybe not.”
Beth nodded. “Makes sense. Though it’s kind of nice, thinking about sleeping in Mom’s old room. I hope some of her Mom vibes are still around.”
“I guess we’ll find out. Now, let’s get these beds stripped and everything washed.
It’s going to take a lot of loads, there’s so much of it.
” Kit pulled the quilt off the nearest bed and began to remove the sheets and pillowcases.
Beth took the other bed, and Abby went off to strip the bed in the guest room.
Ten minutes later, they converged in the front hallway, their arms laden with sheets.
“Where’s the laundry room?” Beth asked.
“I guess it’s downstairs,” Kit replied. “I haven’t had a need for it, so I’ll have to run down and take a look.”
She piled the sheets and the blanket on the sofa in the living room and went into the kitchen, where she opened the door leading down to the basement.
By trial and error, she located the proper light switch and turned it on.
The steps were wide and steady, and when she reached the bottom, she looked around.
The basement was the entire footprint of the house, the walls exposed stone and the floor concrete.
One end was dedicated to the mechanicals that kept the house running, the furnace and the water heater.
Shelves ran along the wall on her right, and a quick look revealed a hodgepodge of items. Silver candlesticks stood next to vases next to triple rows of canning jars.
Off to the left of the steps stood the washer and the dryer, both on wooden platforms. She could only speculate that the basement took water at times and the platforms were there to keep the appliances off the floor and dry.
She attempted to turn on the dryer, which was probably almost as old as Abby, but nothing happened.
She turned the dial to another setting, but again—nothing.
She checked to make sure it was plugged in and found it was.
One more attempt at the dials, and Kit had to admit the dryer wasn’t working.
Back upstairs, she delivered the news.
“Great. Now we have a mountain of sheets, and even if we can wash them, they’ll stay wet since the dryer isn’t working.
We can’t even hang them outside. It’s too cold, and besides, I don’t see a clothesline.
” Beth peered out the window that looked out onto the yard.
“You did try the washer, though, right?”
Kit shook her head. “I tried the dryer first, but it doesn’t matter if the washer works if the dryer does not. If we can’t dry, we’re not washing. But there’s probably a Laundromat in Tolerance.”
Abby took out her phone and began to type a search.
Kit smiled and speed-dialed the inn. When Elly answered, Kit told her what they were looking for.
“Yes, but I heard it closed in February. What do you need?”
“My sister and daughter surprised me with a visit, and they want to sleep at the house tonight.”
“And you have a bunch of century-old bed linens and no laundry facilities.” Elly laughed. “Bundle it up and bring it here. We have the extra-large heavy-duty machines here. You can all plan on staying at the inn tonight, get all the laundry out of the way, and be on your way in the morning.”
“Are you sure?”
“We have no reservations till the weekend, so lots of empty rooms. Besides, I could use some company and a break from studying.”
“Great. How ’bout we take you to Ruthie’s for dinner in exchange for the use of your laundry and your hospitality?”
“That’s the best offer I’ve had in . . . damn, way too long. I’ll see you when you get here.”
Kit ended the call and announced, “Guys, we have a washer and dryer at our disposal, and rooms at a lovely old inn for the night. Let’s saddle up.”
Ruthie’s was crowded, since it was later than usual by the time the group arrived at the restaurant.
Kit introduced her crew to Mary Gail, who hugged Beth, and said, “If you aren’t the spittin’ image of Barbie.
I’d have known you anywhere. And look at this little guy.
Kit, your grandson? And this is your daughter?
Another Meadows beauty, am I right? This way, girls, and I’ll get a high chair for this handsome lad. ”
They followed Mary Gail through the tables of curious locals who craned their necks to see who was who.
“We have chicken pot pie tonight, girls. Linda’s been making them all day. Almost sold out, so you might want to think about that,” Mary Gail told them.
“No lobster pot pie?” Abby asked, half joking.
“Ask your friend there when we can expect some fresh lobster.” She nodded in Elly’s direction.
“Whenever my mother gets here with ’em,” Elly replied.
“She still down in Freeport with that new man of hers? I heard he was a real looker.”
Elly nodded. “I guess that’s where she is. And yeah, he’s not bad for an old man.”
“He’s younger than I am by ten years, ya brat.” Mary Gail smiled at Kit and Beth. “What can I get you?”
It was chicken pot pies all around, and mac and cheese for Benny. And as predicted, before dinner ended, there’d been a stream of Kit’s new friends who’d stopped at the table to greet Kit and of course be introduced to the visitors.
“You really must look like your mom,” Abby said to Beth. “At least a half dozen people commented on the resemblance.” She turned to Kit. “Did you get the same treatment the first time you were here?”
“No. People were just curious about who I was because I was a stranger and I was here with Banks, Maxine’s lawyer.
Who you all will have to meet. Maybe tomorrow we can stop at his office.
I’m sure he’d like to meet you all.” She turned to her sister.
“Especially you, since everyone thinks you look so much like Mom.”
“I take it he knew her? Thank you, Benny.” Abby leaned down to pick up a glob of macaroni from the floor. “Please do not do that again.”
Kit nodded. “He was in her class at school. Oh, and get this: Over the years, Maxine skipped two grades. So instead of being three years behind Mom in high school, she was only one year behind. And she apparently excelled at sports.”
“So she was crazy smart, and a great athlete, and she was gorgeous?” Abby raised an eyebrow. “Imagine your little sister being all that.”
“It must have been tough on Mom,” Beth agreed.
“But Nana was beautiful,” Abby said somewhat defensively.
Kit nodded in agreement. “She was, and she was smart, too. Just maybe not skip-a-couple-of-grades smart. But I have to say, just wait till you see the pictures of Maxine in her youth.”
“She really must have been something,” Elly chimed in. “Even I’ve heard people talk about her like she was a goddess when she was younger. My aunt went to school with her, and from time to time, she still mentions Maxine’s name.”
Abby looked across the table at Kit. “Do you think that was it? That your mom just got so tired of being compared to her younger sister that she just cut the cord?”
“I’ve wondered about that. I asked Banks—and remember, he knew them both well—and he said Barbie wasn’t jealous of Maxine.”
“Maybe she was, and she just hid it well,” Abby said softly. “Maybe that’s why she moved to Pennsylvania and never looked back.”