Getting Back to Normal Read online

  “Welcome, welcome to the Thirsdale Inn.”

  “Thank you,” Daddy says. He reaches for a menu and studies it with care.

  It’s too funny. My father, the most unobservant person in the world, hasn’t a clue that Mrs. Powett has just checked him out as a possible husband for Aunt Mayda. What’s even worse, he’s passed with flying colors.

  But he notices fast enough that I’m laughing. “What’s the joke, Vanessa?”

  I shrug. “Nothing.”

  Mrs. Powett herself escorts us to a corner table in one of the dining rooms. “You’ll be nice and comfy here,” she says with a warm smile. “Ask for me if there’s anything special you’d like.”

  “Can we have some popovers?” Robby asks.

  We all laugh, including Mrs. Powett. “I’ll send over a fresh batch,” she promises.

  A minute later, a waitress brings us a basket of piping hot popovers.

  “Mmmmm,” Daddy says, as he bites into one. “Robby, you sure have clout around here.”

  “I wonder if Theodore would like—”

  “No!” three voices exclaim.

  “No popovers for Theodore,” I say. “He’s a cat. Let him eat cat food.”

  “Amen,” Daddy says.

  Now I’m watching Daddy as carefully as Mrs. Powett was a few minutes ago. He does look presentable in his best sport jacket. And so far he hasn’t said anything really dumb. We talk a lot, laugh a lot, and eat a lot. I relax. I don’t even mind when Daddy tells some of his silly jokes, the ones Robby and I have heard hundreds of times. And Aunt Mayda has a few funny stories to tell us about her clients, some of whom sound like real jerks.

  I lean back in my chair and discover I’m enjoying myself. It’s fun having an evening out with my father, my brother, and Aunt Mayda. It feels nice and normal. I’m glad. I want my life to get back to normal.

  Suddenly I’m dizzy with worry because things seem too normal. It isn’t right that Aunt Mayda’s out with us instead of Mom. I never promised to help Archie. Still, I feel guilty for supporting his cause.

  I study Daddy and Aunt Mayda as they chat and laugh, and sigh with relief. There are no secret smiles or mooning glances. Not one sign that they’re romantic about each other. Aunt Mayda’s simply a friend of the family who enjoys spending time with Daddy, Robby, and me.

  Even Robby’s having a good time. I would be, too, if I could stop analyzing the situation.

  “Everything okay, Vannie?” Aunt Mayda covers my hand with hers.

  “Vannie’s off in space,” Robby says.

  I feel myself blushing. “I was just thinking—“

  “How nice everything is?” Aunt Mayda says softly.

  I nod.

  “Familiar yet strange, almost too good to be true?”

  I nod, appreciating her understanding. But I don’t want to get all mushy, so I clear my throat and ask, “What are you going to do with your grandmother’s necklace?”

  “I’ll bring it to a jeweler, have it polished and repaired, then put it in the vault until we can exhibit it in the museum. Poor Grannie only got to wear it once for photographs, then it was stolen.”

  “Strange, how the girls found it half-buried in the floor of the gazebo,” Daddy says.

  “Yes,” Aunt Mayda agrees. “We’ll never know how it got there.”

  I long to tell her, but I know I never will. Instead, I say, “And your poor grandmother lost her husband because he went chasing after the thief.”

  Aunt Mayda blinks her eyes in surprise.

  “I read about it in the library,” I say quickly.

  The waitress comes over and asks us if we’re ready for coffee and dessert. Aunt Mayda smiles at Daddy.

  “I thought it would be nice if we had dessert at home,” she says.

  “You mean at Greystone?” Robby asks.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Cool!” Robby shouts and jumps up from his seat.

  “Sit down, Robert,” Daddy says. He turns to Aunt Mayda. “Are you sure you want to go to all that trouble?”

  “It’s no trouble, Roger. It’s my pleasure.” She smiles at me. “I’ve some pictures of my grandparents I’d love to show you, since you’re so fascinated by their story.”

  “Let’s go!” I get up, as eager as Robby to get back to MG.

  Daddy asks for the check and apologizes to Aunt Mayda for his children’s bad manners. Sorry, Daddy, I think. Now you know how it feels to be embarrassed by a member of your own family.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Greystone is all lit up, as it is every night. I quiver with excitement as we walk up the three broad steps that lead to the front door, wondering what new information I’ll learn tonight. Aunt Mayda’s right. I am fascinated by Archie and Elizabeth’s story of love and loss. Though I should know better, I find it amazingly romantic.

  “Come upstairs,” Aunt Mayda says.

  We’re silent as we walk past the living room and dining room, as though careful not to disturb anyone who might be present. Ghosts lurk about. Not real ghosts like Archie, but the imprints of Mayda’s relatives who have lived in or visited the mansion.

  Upstairs, Aunt Mayda leads us to a cozy room where a fire blazes away in a fireplace. A couch and two armchairs cluster around a large coffee table. The far corner is set up as an office. The closed door probably leads to Aunt Mayda’s bedroom.

  “A fireplace! Great!” Robby runs over and stands as close as he can to the glass doors.

  Aunt Mayda laughs. “This is the only working fireplace up here, I’m afraid, and the only source of heat. Casey’s kind enough to light it whenever I stay over.”

  “Could we roast marshmallows, do you think?” my brother asks. “We did that once in day camp.”

  “We could, if we had marshmallows,” Aunt Mayda says.

  “You don’t have any?” Robby asks, disappointed.

  “Maybe we can roast them next time,” Aunt Mayda says. She takes our jackets and slips through the closed door. “Be back in a sec. Make yourselves comfortable. There’s a bathroom down the hall.”

  I’m the only one who sits down. Robby stares at the fire while Daddy checks out the oil paintings on the wall.

  “I’ve a delicious chocolate cake as well as fruit and cookies,” Aunt Mayda says when she returns. Her sweater’s all bunched up in back. I want to smooth it into place but don’t, of course. “What would you like to drink? Coffee? Milk? Tea?”

  Robby looks around. “Where’s your kitchen?”

  “Downstairs. I’ll go now and bring everything up. It’s nice and cozy here, don’t you think?”

  Daddy looks upset. “No, Mayda, that’s too much work. Let’s all go downstairs and have dessert in the kitchen.”

  “Oh, dear,” Aunt Mayda says, looking perplexed. “It will only take a few trips, and I certainly don’t mind.”

  My mind chugs like a computer as I calculate plates, silverware, and food—the way Mom did for every meal she prepared. Aunt Mayda doesn’t realize, but there’s too much stuff to lug upstairs.

  “I’ll help, Aunt Mayda,” I say quickly, “but I think Daddy’s right. It will be much easier to eat in the kitchen.”

  Aunt Mayda and Robby look longingly at the fire. “I thought it would be nice to have our dessert up here.” She says it so wistfully, I know she’s been looking forward to this.

  “Maybe we can do it another time,” Robby says. “When we get the marshmallows.”

  I hug Robby for making us laugh. He squirms out of my arms. “Let go, Vannie. I want some chocolate cake.”

  Downstairs, I set out dishes while Aunt Mayda puts up coffee. Daddy takes milk and fruit from the refrigerator.

  “What should I do, Aunt Mayda?” Robby asks.

  “You can get the napkins from the pantry.”

  Soon we’re gobbling up huge pieces of cake with our milk or coffee.

  “Have some fruit.” Aunt Mayda holds the big fruit bowl out to Robby.

  “You sound like Mommy.”
/>   Daddy, Aunt Mayda, and I freeze.

  “Do I?” Aunt Mayda finally asks. Her voice is husky.

  “Uh-huh. She was always nagging us to eat fruit, wasn’t she, Vannie?”

  “I guess.”

  “Well, I hate fruit,” Robby declares.

  “Well, it’s good for you,” Aunt Mayda says calmly. “Try some grapes. These are nice and sweet.”

  She puts a small bunch on Robby’s plate. He eats them without a word. Smart move, I think. Brilliant, actually, for someone who doesn’t know much about kids.

  Daddy reaches over and rubs Aunt Mayda’s shoulder. I nearly jump out of my chair from shock. He’s only thanking her for getting Robby to eat some fruit, I tell myself. But he can use words instead of touching her.

  My tone is brusque when I address Aunt Mayda. “You said you’d show me some photographs of your grandparents. Can I see them now?”

  “Vannie! What’s gotten into you?” Daddy’s both puzzled and annoyed.

  All I know is, I’m furious with Aunt Mayda. Then I catch the hurt look in her eyes and my anger dies away.

  “Sure, Vannie. I’ll get them now.”

  Her face is rosy as she leaves the kitchen.

  Is she blushing because something’s happening between her and my father? Or is she upset with me?

  Robby leans against Daddy and lets out an enormous yawn.

  Daddy takes Robby on his lap. “Maybe you can look at the pictures another time. Robby’s falling asleep.”

  “Oh, no! Please, Daddy. It won’t take long.”

  Before he can answer, Mayda reappears with a large manila envelop. She clears the table and spills out its contents. Gingerly, I lift one photo after another. I skim through the pictures of her grandmother when she was a child and a teenager and focus on those of Archie and Elizabeth—on the tennis court, aboard a boat, dressed up for a gala occasion—many with groups of laughing friends.

  They’re a marvelously good-looking couple. Archie’s tall and slim; Elizabeth’s petite and shapely. They beam at one other in every shot, their arms entwined around each other’s waist.

  “They look so happy,” I say.

  “Oh, they were! Grannie never tired of telling me how much in love they were. Isn’t Archie handsome?”

  “Hmmm,” I agree, though Aunt Mayda has no idea how immature her grandfather can behave. “Looks like your grandparents had many friends.”

  Aunt Mayda nods. “Grannie was a popular young girl, and her parents held many parties in her honor. In fact, she met Archie at one of her own parties.”

  A young man with a mustache appears in every group picture. In one photograph he’s staring intently at Elizabeth.

  “Who’s that?” I ask.

  “Peter Cartwright. His parents were good friends of Grannie’s parents.”

  “He seems very interested in Elizabeth—I mean your grandmother.”

  Aunt Mayda nods. “He adored her. Peter wanted to marry her, but Grannie wasn’t interested. Aside from not loving him, she hated that he gambled and drank.”

  She gives a little laugh. “How ironic that Peter brought my grandfather to one of the parties. They worked in the same architectural firm.”

  My spine tingles with the thrill of discovery. Surely Peter is the thief who stole the necklace!

  Aunt Mayda continues. “My grandparents met and it was love at first sight.”

  “I bet Peter wasn’t happy about that,” I say.

  “Grannie said Peter came to see her once after my grandfather died, then she never saw him again. She was relieved because she was afraid he was going to ask her to marry him again. Poor Grannie. She was only twenty-two when she lost Archie and determined never to marry again.”

  “How did your grandfather die?” Robby asks, now fully awake.

  Mayda hesitates, then she says, “He drowned in the pond.”

  “In the pond!” Robby shouts. “You mean the pond full of ducks that’s on the way to our cottage?”

  “The very same.”

  “Gross!”

  “It was a terrible freak accident,” Aunt Mayda says. “Grannie screamed that someone had stolen her necklace. Archie chased after the thief in the dark. He tripped, hit his head, and drowned.”

  “Too bad nobody was around to save him,” Daddy says.

  “Everyone was upstairs dressing when it happened. By the time they found flashlights and joined in the chase, Archie was nowhere in sight. Poor Grannie. Losing Archie broke her heart. She was never the same after that night.”

  I feel tears welling up. Without a word, I get up to hug Aunt Mayda.

  Daddy clears his throat. “I think it’s time we were going, Mayda. Thanks for dessert.”

  Aunt Mayda smiles. “And thank you for dinner. Sorry to end the evening on a sad note.”

  She goes upstairs for our jackets. I pretend not to watch when she and Daddy say good night. They hug. Kiss each other on the cheek. Nothing romantic about it. Still—

  “What time are you leaving tomorrow?” Daddy asks her. “The Halloween party’s next week, and I need your input on the decorations.” He winks. “Especially since you’re the hostess.”

  They’re off and talking again. The anger in my chest flares up. I want to scream at Daddy and Mayda to stop being so—so fixed on each other. Instead, I let out a noisy sigh. I sigh again. They pay no attention and keep on talking.

  “Let’s go.” Robby tugs at Daddy’s jacket.

  I open the front door and stand with my arms crossed, glaring.

  Aunt Mayda looks at Robby then at me, as if she’s surprised we’re still there. Then she blinks, embarrassed. “Sorry. I suppose we got carried away.”

  I don’t answer.

  “Good night, Robby. Good night, Vannie.” She hugs me, feels my stiff body that doesn’t hug back. “Is everything all right?” she asks, her voice uncertain.

  “Just tired.” I turn away from the question in her eyes.

  Daddy, Robby, and I get into the car. Daddy’s clearly annoyed with me.

  “Vannie, you were rude to Mayda just now,” he says as he starts the motor. “That’s not very nice, considering all she’s done for us.”

  Now I’m furious with Daddy for taking her side.

  “Aunt Mayda! Merrymount Gardens! That’s all you care about. Why don’t you get a life—a separate life—so we don’t have to live here anymore!”

  Daddy stops the car and turns to me. “But I thought you were getting to like it here.”

  “Well, I don’t! I hate it!”

  I burst into tears. When we get to the cottage, I storm upstairs and slam my bedroom door shut. I wake up hours later and realize I’ve fallen asleep with my clothes on.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  I change into my pajamas and robe then go downstairs to use the bathroom. The act of brushing my teeth comforts me because it’s something I’ve been doing for as long as I can remember. The rest of my life is spinning out of control. I’ve lost my mother and my home, and now I’m about to lose Daddy.

  I want Daddy and Archie and Aunt Mayda to be happy, but I can’t deal with any more changes. It isn’t fair of them to turn my life topsy-turvy. It isn’t fair!! I plan to write it in huge block letters in my notebook.

  I need lots of space and fresh air. I grab my jacket and rush outside.

  “Meow.”

  I stumble as something soft and furry wraps itself around my ankles.

  “Theodore!” I whisper.

  I bend down to stroke his back. Even in my unhappiness, I’m touched that he’s allowing me to pet him. But only for half a minute. Theodore steps back and meows again.

  “Hungry, are you? Wait here and I’ll get you some food.”

  I swear he understands every word I say. When I come out with a box of dried cat food, he follows me into the shed then watches while I fill his empty dish.

  “You are the smartest cat,” I tell him.

  Theodore doesn’t answer. He’s busy eating. I stroke his back a
gain and he doesn’t flinch.

  “You’re going to make Robby a great pet, aren’t you? Just as Tammy said you would.”

  His answer is a rumbling purr.

  I’m too wide awake to sleep. I walk along the moonlit path in the opposite direction of the duck pond. The trees cast giant shadows, but they don’t frighten me. No one’s here at MG except Daddy, Robby, Aunt Mayda, and me. And Archie, who’s got to be the least scariest ghost in the world.

  I’m approaching Casey’s workplace, The Shed, when a blast of cold air passes before me. Archie’s here, and for once I wish he wasn’t.

  “Good evening, Vanessa, or is it good morning?”

  “Hi,” I say, and keep on walking.

  Archie falls into step beside me. “Isn’t this rather an odd time to be out for a stroll?”

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  He turns and gazes into my eyes. “Something has upset you.”

  I squirm because I have the awful feeling he can see into my head and read my thoughts. “It’s been a funny night.”

  “Funny? In what way?”

  “Weird funny.”

  For a moment he doesn’t answer, then he says, “Let’s stop and talk about it, why don’t we?” He points to a bench a few feet away. “That looks like the perfect spot.”

  He’s all take charge and serious for once, and I know he won’t take no for an answer. And so, though talking about my father and Mayda is the last thing I want to do, I sit down on the bench. Fine. I’ll tell Archie exactly how I feel and get this over, once and for all. As Tammy said, he can’t make me do anything I don’t want to.

  “Where did the four of you dine?” Archie asks.

  “At the Thirsdale Inn. Aunt Mayda knows the owner.”

  “That sounds pleasant. Did you enjoy your meal?”

  “Yes.”

  Archie paces before me. I’m surprised. No back flips. No handstands.

  “And what of your father and Mayda? Did they seem amiable toward each other?”

  “Sure,” I say. “They’re real amiable.”