Chapter 2 Antiques and Amusement
Chapter 2: Antiques and Amusement
Jack
I watched from the glass door as the strange lady exited the porch, heading towards an ash-colored car that was parked on the road. She had this look of excitement about her that was infectious.
Earlier on, I’d been having a bad day, thinking of all the misfortune that had happened in the past few years. The accident, my retirement, and now this situation to sell a share of the antique store to foreign investors.
If I had a better option, I would not have accepted a total stranger to become a shareholder in the store. Those rich people did not think about the history of antiques; all they wanted was the cash that the antiques might be worth to them. And who knew: a year or two after their involvement in running this store, it might go extinct, losing all its treasures. But I needed them, needed their firm and money, to bring awareness.
This lady looked nothing like those gullible investors. She sounded like she knew a lot about antiques, and if this wasn”t an act, then I was surely going to be dealing with a kind person. Someone whom I could trust and who understood the antiquing business.
It was her difference and, above all, her happy nature that had made me tolerate her. In the years after my retirement, I”d grown to become very impatient and less happy with my life. I knew how the people of Serenity Springs saw me, but I didn’t care so much about them either.
The sky had turned completely black by the time I dropped the window drapes and prepared to leave. I passed the shelf that had the framed picture, picked it up, and stared back into the four smiling eyes that met mine. If only I could turn back the hands of time.
I laid the picture back on the shelf and turned off the light, groping my way through the dark. I was close to the door when my feet kicked against something metal on the floor and I was forced to turn on the light again. The object sprawled itself on the floor—a bronzed earring.
It looked ancient: something from the past with great worth. Picking up the earring, I studied it carefully. That small piece could be worth a lot of money if sold. It had to belong to the lady that just left. What was her name again… Something with the initial “E”.
I picked up the piece of bronze and dropped it into my pocket, stepping out into the warm summer wind. I locked the front door and strolled into the night. It was going to be a long night, just like every other night.
* * *
Emma
A fifteen-minute drive from the antique store took me to the guest house. Feeling surprisingly energized, I drove all the way humming the songs that played on the car radio. The break already seemed promising and Serenity Springs was a great idea indeed.
As I approached the hospitality suite the gate was closed. Before the car completely stopped, a short, stout man, probably in his fifties, wobbled in his baggy trousers from the guard shack, just left of the entrance. As I waited, I caught just a glimpse of one guest house. The evening’s full moon provided just enough light for me to see it was painted sea blue and ordained with red rose shrubs.
The gate opened and the gentleman was waving me in. Once inside the gated community of guest homes, I parked my car and stepped out to meet him.
“Hi, Miss,” he greeted, limping towards my car.
“Good evening, sir.”
“You must be Lady Catherine?”
“No, I”m Emma,” I corrected, wondering what it was with me and being mistaken for other persons in this town.
“I”m sorry, dear lady, for the mistake. We were expecting Lady Catherine from Los Angeles to arrive here today,” the old man explained.
“No, it”s fine. I guess I have a thing for being mistaken as someone else,” I chuckled dryly.
“Hmmm.” He peered at me with his squinting eyes.
“You know, they say she”s really nice and that she helps those in need wherever she goes. I have not seen her myself; I just returned home and got this job here,” he went on.
“Who is she?” I asked, genuinely confused.
“Lady Catherine, of course.”
“Yeah. Lady Catherine,” I nodded.
“She gets to stay in the finest house—the one in the middle. It is specially cleaned and reserved for her every summer.” For one who had not set eyes on the supposed Lady Catherine, the old man spoke with so much admiration.
“She must really be a nice person, then.”
“She”s a godsend,” he corrected curtly.
His tone suggested that I might have underestimated her by referring to her as a normal nice person. Anybody could be nice, but this Lady Catherine, she had to be more; had to be linked to something divine.
“And you?” I asked, suddenly in a haste to end the conversation about Lady Catherine. My feet were hurting under the sneakers I wore.
“Me?” He pointed at his chest, and his eyes popped out surprisingly.
“Yes, you.” I nodded.
“I”m just an old man that works here,” he shrugged.
“Okay, sir, I believe you go by a name, still.”
“You want to know my name?” he asked, his eyes widening again.
“Yes, if you don”t mind.”
“I am Tarry,” he answered.
“Tarry, I believe you have the keys to my room. I”d love to go in and unpack. I had a long trip.”
He reached silently into his pocket and brought out a bunch of keys. Studying them carefully, he singled out a mini bunch with a number three tag on it and handed it over.
“House three, Miss…”
“Emma.” I collected the keys.
“Welcome to Serenity Springs. Wishing you the best summer break,” he concluded.
“Thanks, Tarry.”
I drove into the empty parking lot, turned off my radio, and exhaled. I stepped out of the vehicle, wondering if the other guests didn”t own cars, or if there were other guests at all, as there were no lights from the windows of the other guest homes.
Tarry was still at the spot where I had left him. I strolled to house number three as indicated on the door. I had expected to hear a bunch of rules from Tarry on how to maintain the house or how they lived around here, but it was a relief that he had chosen to talk about Lady Catherine instead.
Stepping into the apartment, it felt warm. The lights were off and the curtains stood in the shadows like giant ghosts. I searched the wall behind me for a switch to the lights, and turning it on, I strolled farther into the room. It smelled of strawberry air freshener. I filled my lungs with the scent, allowing my finger to slide on the top of the wooden surface of the dining table that stood close to the kitchen.
The surface was clean and lacked dust. On it was a flower figurine made out of clay and decorated with crystal beads. I sauntered into the kitchen, inspecting the few rows of ceramic dishes and mugs arranged in a dish holder. A stainless-steel refrigerator stood behind the kitchen, and a stove and coffee maker on the kitchen counter.
I loved making my meals myself, so it had been my priority to make sure my personal kitchen back in Florida was in perfect shape. But then, this wasn”t bad either. It was highly commendable how the guest house workers had put every necessary thing in place and into consideration. This was a standard guest house, and it was worth every penny.
I returned to the sitting room, following the doorway that led into the inner room. A king-size bed with purple sheets greeted me first. The closet stood by the side of the wall and the restroom was to the left side of the room. I flipped myself on the bed, sinking into the softness that met my skin.
I could have lay there with my clothes on and drifted into a peaceful sleep, but my phone began to ring. I pushed myself off the bed and went back to the living room. I scrambled for the phone from my bag. It was Sandy, calling as promised.
“Hey, girlfriend.”
“You finally have time for me?” I answered, walking back to the room.
“Come on, I always have time for you and you know it. Just that Mike was here and was being very touchy while we spoke earlier,” she confessed.
“I knew that already.” Bouncing on the bed, I took off my shoes.
“Oh, okay, what are you now? A seer?” She laughed.
“Sandy, I”ve known you for like… what? Ten years? And you really think you could be sneaky with me?” I held the phone between my ear and shoulder, washing my hands in the sink.
“Alright, you win. So, how”s this place? How are you settling in?”
“Well, I got delayed at this antique store I came across, and its strange owner mistook me for a potential investor.”
“Seriously? So, what did you do?”
“Well, you know how I”m usually enthralled by artwork, so I decided to play along just to fill my eyes with the magnifying objects he had around there. But I”m in the guest house now, and, girl, these guys did a great job with this place.” I turned to discover a mirror plastered to the wall that presented my reflection.
I stared at myself. My lips were dried and cracked, and strands of hair fell limply around my face. The black shade of eyeliner had scattered and spewed itself below my eyes, creating a mess.
“Really? What”s it like?” Sandy”s voice brought me back.
“It”s really homey. Has everything, just like my apartment back home. It”s cool. They deserve a five-star rating.” Still staring at the mirror, it struck me: something was missing.