Tom took Jimmy’s hand and the two, almost like father and son, climbed slowly up the beach stairs, shivering in the chill air as the sun dropped lower on the horizon. It would be dark soon. They hurried toward the warmth of the house. They set about building a fire in the living room fireplace and then Jimmy warmed up on the grand piano, limbering his fingers running through several sets of scales from the workbook.
Jimmy was making strides and gaining self-confidence. Tom was pleased he could nurture and support the boy. He was a great kid. Jimmy’s dad still hadn’t been able to tie up his business and join his family in Ravenswood. Tom enjoyed his time with Jimmy and was not particularly looking forward to having William Harrison show up and take over his fatherly duties. Well, he’d deal with that when he had to.
Chapter 29
On Friday, Sara and Tom decided to escape the hustle and bustle at their respective houses and have lunch in town at the Raven Café. They were charmed by the quaint atmosphere. Antique teapots and hand painted crockery were displayed on baker’s shelves of stressed, milk-washed wood. Each table was covered with a paisley tablecloth of varying shades of violet and cream. Matching napkins and chunky white pottery vases filled with simple bouquets of fresh pansies adorned the tables. Black and white striped wallpaper covered walls that were hung with ornate silver-framed mirrors that reflected the outside winter landscape of bare trees, every branch covered with ravens.
“Guess I know how the town got its name.” Tom smiled at Sara, pointing at the branches covered with ravens.
“Wow, look at those beautiful birds. I read that ravens are considered to be a good omen. The native Indians believed the souls of their ancient ones came back in the bodies of the ravens. They even had a ceremony in the fall, on the beach below the town, and adorned themselves with black paint and feathers. They lit huge bonfires and danced around the fire performing a drumming ritual.
“Sheep were slaughtered, their blood drained, then the natives drank it in hollowed out gourds. Thousands of birds would fly in from the surrounding woods to watch the ceremony. The meat from the sheep was offered to the ravens to feast on. This was the Indians’ way of keeping the souls of their ancestors at peace, insuring that the ancestors would watch over the tribe during the hard winter ahead.” Sara stared out the window at the blackbirds across the way. “Very poignant.” She picked up her wine glass, raised it to the birds. “To the ravens of Ravenswood. May their souls be at peace. Cheers.” She made an ugly face at Tom, pretended to choke on the wine.
Tom took a sip of his wine. Imitating Count Dracula’s voice he said, “Ahh, blood. Good to the last drop.”
The waitress appeared at the table. Clearing her throat to get their attention and trying not to laugh, she asked, “Ready to order?” She stared at Tom. “Are you Tom Gardner?”
“I am,” he said.
“Thought I recognized you. I love your boutiques. Are you here to open one?”
Caught off guard, Tom swallowed his wine and answered, “No, I hadn’t thought about opening a store here. But, hmm, now that you mention it, you may be on to something. I live here now. Bought a house outside of town. You are . . . ?”
“Joanie. Wow! You live here? That’s fantastic. It’d sure be cool if you opened one of your boutiques in Ravenswood. They’d be very popular. There aren’t any stores that carry your clothing line anywhere near here.” She saw her manager giving her the evil eye and quickly said, “We have two specials today. The soup of the day is clam chowder, and our entree today is cod fillet with sautéed rice and mushrooms. Are you ready to order?”
The two ordered the specials. As soon as the waitress was out of earshot, Sara turned excitedly to Tom. “What boutique? What’s that about, Tom?”
“Guess it never came up. One of my family’s businesses are the Alexa’s Boutiques. They’re named after my grandmother.”
“I’ve heard of them. Wow! Tell me more.”
Tom continued, “Grandmother had the concept for the store, was even the original clothes designer. She died years ago, but the stores were always very profitable, so my dad kept them going. The hotels are my pride and joy, though. Of the two of us, Cassie’s the most involved in the boutiques. They’re her babies. And I prefer the financial side of the operations, hands down.”
“Cassie must be quite a businesswoman. And very talented,” said Sara.
“She is,” said Tom. “She studied fashion design at the New Haven Art Institute. She deals with most of the conceptualizing and designing of our line. She used to do a majority of the designs herself, but she’s had to cut back a bit since she married and started a family.”
“I can’t wait to meet her. She sounds fascinating. You must be very proud to have her involved in the business with you.”
“I am. I make sure the finances are straight, she does the hard work. The fashion business is very competitive, but it’s proven to be worthwhile. Cassie knows the market.”
The waitress brought their soup, offering her brightest smile to Tom as she set the bowls in front of them. “Would either of you care for hot bread?”
“No, just crackers for me,” said Tom. Sara nodded in agreement. “Joanie, this soup is fantastic. Give the chef our compliments.”
A few minutes later Joanie brought their entrees and poured them more coffee. Tom and Sara ate and talked, enjoying getting to know each other. Watching Sara, Tom realized how easy it was to be with her. Not only that but, as he watched her eyes, her lips, heard her words flow and wrap around him, he knew he was in love with her. He thought she might be feeling the same for him. Reaching for her hand lying on the table, he was taken aback when she moved away.
“Oh, no! Don’t look now, but there goes Vivian. Duck!” Sara whispered as she slouched down in her chair. Vivian, riding in Joe’s taxi, drove slowly down the street. “Good! She didn’t see us. Whew! I wonder where she’s going? It’s odd she’d leave the house this early in the day. Must be meeting someone for lunch.” She glanced at Tom. “I‘m awful aren’t I?”
“You are, but I don’t mind!”
Sara giggled as she put the last bite of cod into her mouth. “Mmm, delicious. Now I recommend a piece of their famous cherry pie for dessert. Sound good?” Tom nodded, reached across the table and wiped a crumb of breading off her lip. She smiled, taking his hand in hers.
***
Vivian looked around the nearly empty streets hoping no one would see her. She was on a mission and had made it very clear to Joe that no one was to know that she had used his services today. As far as her household was concerned, she had a headache and was in her room sleeping, not to be disturbed. This errand would not take long. She knew her absence would not be discovered.
“Joe, please pull over at the next building. I’ll be back in about half an hour. Go get a cup of coffee or something. I’ll call you when I’m ready for a ride.”
“Okay, think I’ll do that,” Joe said, pulling over and parallel parking in front a small, red- brick office building. Its windows were barred with ornate, black wrought-iron and shaded with kelly-green awnings. Stone lions guarded either side of the walnut-stained door. A shiny brass mailbox hung to the right. Below that was a brass doorbell. An oak sign, with the names Kranston and Rivers engraved in black, hung from a wrought iron hanger.
Joe got out of the taxi and opened the door for Vivian. She walked across the sidewalk to the door and pulled to open it. It was locked. She rang the bell, then impatiently tapped her knuckles on the window of the door. A well-dressed man, whom Joe had never seen before, opened the door, smiled and ushered Vivian inside.
***