The Probable Future
Page 32
“I can settle myself. What I need is food. Gran?”
Two against one, Jenny could see that well enough. They clearly planned to gang up on her whenever possible. There was no choice but to stop at Hull’s Tea House, where they ordered Lapsang souchong tea, egg salad sandwiches, and scones with cream and jam. Their waitress was a high school girl named Cynthia Elliot, who worked weekends and after school. Cynthia was Elinor’s neighbor and the great-granddaughter of Sissy Elliot, that imperious old lady who thought nothing of holding up an entire trainful of people so that she could get onboard and make herself comfortable. Elinor, however, didn’t seem to recognize their young waitress.
“Hey, Mrs. Sparrow, I’m Cynthia.” Cynthia Elliot had on black nail polish and her hair had been braided into dozens of tiny red braids. “I live next door to you.”
“How nice for you,” Elinor said, cleaning a spoon that was smudged, not in the least bit interested.
“Hey,” Cynthia said to Stella, sensing the possibility of a kindred spirit.
“Hey,” Stella said uncertainly.
“Do not pal around with that girl,” Jenny said when Cynthia went to place their order. Cynthia was clearly a few years older, and several years more experienced. “Do you hear me?”
“Just because I hear you doesn’t mean I’m listening to you.” Stella turned to gaze out the window which overlooked Main Street. The linden trees were greening and the warblers were calling. Everything looked hazy and sweet and ready to bloom. The tea house lawn was filled with snowdrops, a field of what had once been sorrow.
“I love this town,” Stella said. “It’s perfect.”
Jenny was so startled by this announcement, and so very uncomfortable with the notion, that she shifted in her chair, and the table, perched on the uneven floorboards, was shaken. The water in Jenny’s tumbler spilled and her knife fell onto the floor with a clatter. Elinor couldn’t help but recall what her great-grandmother, Coral, had always proclaimed: Drop a knife and a woman will visit. Drop it twice, and she’s bound to stay.
“Well, don’t get too comfortable here,” Jenny advised her daughter. “You’re only in Unity until things get straightened out with your father.”
“Do you expect that to happen any time soon?” Elinor asked.
“You’ll be here through the end of the school term at most,” Jenny went on, ignoring her mother, as she had hundreds of times before. “Don’t forget to tell your teachers that. This isn’t permanent. You’re just a visiting student.”
They had their lunch without much conversation, then were waylaid by dessert.
“Oh, look at that!” Stella had her eye on a tray of tiny iced cakes and tarts the proprietor, Liza Hull, was bringing over. “They’re so pretty.”
“Jenny Sparrow,” Liza Hull said as she delivered the complimentary tray. “I can’t believe it! I never expected to see you back in this town. I guess all birds really do come home to roost.”
Liza and Jenny had been in the same year at school, but they’d never been great friends, and there seemed no point in pretending to be so now. “I’m just here for the day. My daughter, Stella, will be staying a little longer.”
“I love this place,” Stella declared for a second time, but now with even more conviction. “I love this town. I love this tea house. I love these cakes. Did you bake these?” she asked Liza, sneaking a bite of a petit four.
“I’ll bake you more any time you’d like them.” Liza had been such a plain girl no one noticed her, but as it turned out, she had a lovely smile; she seemed far more comfortable in her own skin now. “I see your daughter has Will’s coloring and his yellow eyes. Lucky girl.” A smile played at Liza’s lips. “He used to stop by now and then when his mom was so ill. He always ordered apple pie.”
“Did he?” Without ever once mentioning any such visits to Jenny, naturally.
“Oh, sure. Will Avery’s a hometown boy even if he did go to Harvard and marry you.” Liza turned to Stella. “Glad you’re going to be around for a while. Want to see the kitchen?”
“Sounds like Will was sneaking around here even while his mother was dying,” Elinor said when Stella had gone off for her tour of the bakery. “I told you he’d be nothing but trouble. He was a liar from day one.”
“Look, Mother, I don’t have to listen to your opinion anymore. I appreciate the fact that you’re taking Stella in, but, believe me, I wouldn’t have asked if there were any other alternatives.”
Two against one, Jenny could see that well enough. They clearly planned to gang up on her whenever possible. There was no choice but to stop at Hull’s Tea House, where they ordered Lapsang souchong tea, egg salad sandwiches, and scones with cream and jam. Their waitress was a high school girl named Cynthia Elliot, who worked weekends and after school. Cynthia was Elinor’s neighbor and the great-granddaughter of Sissy Elliot, that imperious old lady who thought nothing of holding up an entire trainful of people so that she could get onboard and make herself comfortable. Elinor, however, didn’t seem to recognize their young waitress.
“Hey, Mrs. Sparrow, I’m Cynthia.” Cynthia Elliot had on black nail polish and her hair had been braided into dozens of tiny red braids. “I live next door to you.”
“How nice for you,” Elinor said, cleaning a spoon that was smudged, not in the least bit interested.
“Hey,” Cynthia said to Stella, sensing the possibility of a kindred spirit.
“Hey,” Stella said uncertainly.
“Do not pal around with that girl,” Jenny said when Cynthia went to place their order. Cynthia was clearly a few years older, and several years more experienced. “Do you hear me?”
“Just because I hear you doesn’t mean I’m listening to you.” Stella turned to gaze out the window which overlooked Main Street. The linden trees were greening and the warblers were calling. Everything looked hazy and sweet and ready to bloom. The tea house lawn was filled with snowdrops, a field of what had once been sorrow.
“I love this town,” Stella said. “It’s perfect.”
Jenny was so startled by this announcement, and so very uncomfortable with the notion, that she shifted in her chair, and the table, perched on the uneven floorboards, was shaken. The water in Jenny’s tumbler spilled and her knife fell onto the floor with a clatter. Elinor couldn’t help but recall what her great-grandmother, Coral, had always proclaimed: Drop a knife and a woman will visit. Drop it twice, and she’s bound to stay.
“Well, don’t get too comfortable here,” Jenny advised her daughter. “You’re only in Unity until things get straightened out with your father.”
“Do you expect that to happen any time soon?” Elinor asked.
“You’ll be here through the end of the school term at most,” Jenny went on, ignoring her mother, as she had hundreds of times before. “Don’t forget to tell your teachers that. This isn’t permanent. You’re just a visiting student.”
They had their lunch without much conversation, then were waylaid by dessert.
“Oh, look at that!” Stella had her eye on a tray of tiny iced cakes and tarts the proprietor, Liza Hull, was bringing over. “They’re so pretty.”
“Jenny Sparrow,” Liza Hull said as she delivered the complimentary tray. “I can’t believe it! I never expected to see you back in this town. I guess all birds really do come home to roost.”
Liza and Jenny had been in the same year at school, but they’d never been great friends, and there seemed no point in pretending to be so now. “I’m just here for the day. My daughter, Stella, will be staying a little longer.”
“I love this place,” Stella declared for a second time, but now with even more conviction. “I love this town. I love this tea house. I love these cakes. Did you bake these?” she asked Liza, sneaking a bite of a petit four.
“I’ll bake you more any time you’d like them.” Liza had been such a plain girl no one noticed her, but as it turned out, she had a lovely smile; she seemed far more comfortable in her own skin now. “I see your daughter has Will’s coloring and his yellow eyes. Lucky girl.” A smile played at Liza’s lips. “He used to stop by now and then when his mom was so ill. He always ordered apple pie.”
“Did he?” Without ever once mentioning any such visits to Jenny, naturally.
“Oh, sure. Will Avery’s a hometown boy even if he did go to Harvard and marry you.” Liza turned to Stella. “Glad you’re going to be around for a while. Want to see the kitchen?”
“Sounds like Will was sneaking around here even while his mother was dying,” Elinor said when Stella had gone off for her tour of the bakery. “I told you he’d be nothing but trouble. He was a liar from day one.”
“Look, Mother, I don’t have to listen to your opinion anymore. I appreciate the fact that you’re taking Stella in, but, believe me, I wouldn’t have asked if there were any other alternatives.”
