Look Always Forward (Bellingwood Book 11) (4 page)

"This is quite a facility you have here," Alistair said as they passed through the main foyer.

"It's ..." Polly wasn't quite sure what to say. Most words seemed trite in comparison to the depth of feeling she had for Sycamore House. "It's a wonderful place."

"If you are in charge, it must be," he said. Stopping in front of the door to the auditorium, he asked, "May I?"

She nodded and opened the door. He stepped in to the empty room, his eyes resting on the stage. He caught sight of the display cases.

"A fascinating collection of pop culture," he said.

"We discovered crates in the basement the first few months we were here - things that students had lost while the school was open. A custodian kept everything together year after year."

"A person could get lost in memories," he said, reaching up to touch the glass in front of a pair of black and white saddle shoes.

"We've offered to let people come in and take back any of their personal items, but not many have claimed them," Polly said. "I think they like knowing this piece of history is here."

He shook himself from his reverie. "Perhaps it is time to move on." He pointed to the back of the building and said, "To your trusty steed?"

Polly chuckled. "Let's go through the kitchen so I can introduce you to a couple of my friends."

"You are a woman who has many friends, aren't you, Ms. Giller," he said.

"I suppose I am." She led him through the auditorium and opened the door in front of the kitchen. They stopped at the counter and Sylvie glanced up from an oven.

"Hello there," Sylvie said. Her hair was pulled back and yet a few tendrils fell in front of her face. Her cheeks were red from exertion and the front of her apron looked as if something had exploded.

"You are a vision of perfection," Alistair gasped.

Sylvie looked down at herself, glanced at Polly and then at Rachel and said, "Who, me?"

"Your natural beauty shines through the work that you do." He turned to Polly. "Have you ever seen anyone so lovely?"

Polly shrugged. "He's right, you know. You are quite lovely in that getup. Sylvie Donovan, this is Alistair Greyson. He's staying at the Inn."

Sylvie stepped forward and put her hand out. Polly wasn't at all surprised when he turned it to kiss the back of her hand.

"Oh," Sylvie said. It shouldn't have been possible, but her cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red.

"Might I inquire as to whether you are free this evening?" Alistair asked. "I know it's short notice, but I don't feel that I can go another day without learning more about you. You are exquisite."

"I. Don't. Think. So," Sylvie said evenly.

"I apologize," he said. "I've pressed too quickly. But I've never..." He stopped and said again, "I apologize. Ms. Giller, shall we leave now?" His confidence was gone and he stammered out, "It was nice to meet you."

Rather than taking him through the kitchen, Polly pointed to the auditorium door. He went through it without waiting for her. She shrugged at Sylvie and followed.

"I do apologize," he said. "I've never met anyone so lovely. Please express to her that I did not mean to frighten or startle her." He quietly spoke to himself. "Sylvie Donovan. 'Tis a beautiful name."

"I'll let her know," Polly responded. "My truck is right through here." She led him into the storage room and out into the garage. It felt wonderful to be able to have her own vehicle.

Greyson walked into the garage and stopped in front of Henry's Thunderbird. "It seems that I am to be exposed to great beauty today," he said. "My mother told the story that my father married her for her T-Bird. This is very nice."

"It's my husband's. I've been driving it for the last few months, but we got my new truck just yesterday."

He trailed his fingers across the hood of the T-Bird as he walked around it and then turned his attention to the truck, climbing up into the passenger seat.

Polly opened her door and let Obiwan jump up and in. He leapt to the back seat before she had her seatbelt buckled.

"It's just a short drive to the city yard," Polly said.

"Then I probably could have walked."

"That's not what I meant." She was flustered. "I guess I was just making conversation."

"I'm grateful for the ride."

They rode in silence the few blocks to the yard. His battered truck was inside the fence. A gate opened when Polly pulled in front of it and she drove in and over to the truck.

"Hello!" a man said, coming out from a small building. "Are you Ms. Giller and Mr. Greyson?"

Polly jumped down and said, "Yes, that's us. He wants to get the last of his things."

"For what it's worth, it's all locked up. Here are your keys."

Alistair took the key ring from the man and pocketed a few after removing them. Opening the back of the truck, he drew out a long stick and leaned it against the side. He climbed into the bed and pulled out two white five gallon buckets. One was empty, the other heavy with a lid tightly clamped down.

"I just need to get a few things from the front. It will be only a moment." After two attempts, the passenger door finally opened. He dug underneath the seats and in the glove compartment, dropping things into the empty bucket.

"That should do it," he said. "There is nothing more in that faithful vehicle of any importance to me. It has earned its rest." He patted the back of the truck before picking up the second bucket. "I appreciate you saving my life. It isn't every vehicle that can be said of."

Alistair Greyson glanced at the long stick, as if trying to discern whether he would be able to take it up in his hands while carrying the two buckets. Polly smiled at him and put her hands on it.

"Let me open the back of the truck," she said. "You can put your things in there."

After putting the buckets in, he took the stick, stroked the wood, then laid it in the bed and waited for her to shut the tailgate.

"Thank you, kind sir," he said to the man who opened the lot for them. "I will speak with your Chief about the paperwork. I appreciate your care of my vehicle."

The man nodded, a slow smile stealing across his face. "Nice to meet you." He tilted his head at Polly. "Ms. Giller."

"Thanks," she said and got back in her truck, then turned to her passenger. "Would you like lunch?"

He nodded to the back seat where Obiwan was seated quietly. "You won't be able to take him into the diner."

"It's a beautiful day. He won't jump out of the truck if I leave the windows open. We can eat."

"Then I would feel quite privileged to share a meal with you. And please, allow me to express my thanks by bearing the cost."

"We'll see," she said.

CHAPTER FOUR

Unless she got an emergency call, Polly had nothing to do late that afternoon. She'd just returned from dropping the kids off at the coffee shop. Jeff promised to bring them back when he closed for the day. He and four new employees were finishing setup. Sylvie had introduced him to a woman she knew who could train them all in the basics of coffee and tea. Polly overheard some of it and chose to ignore it. She didn't need to understand the magic, it was enough to know that it worked and she got coffee to drink. Beyond that, they could learn how to froth, mix, bubble, or even swim in the coffee for all she cared.

Before moving the kids around, she'd dropped Alistair Greyson off in front of his hotel room. He'd gathered his two five gallon buckets and his stick and watched as she drove away.

He was such an odd duck. She didn't know what to make of him. His speech patterns were just a little off. It was right for him, but no one else spoke the way he did. Trusty steed? Faithful vehicle? And what was up with his sudden infatuation with Sylvie?

If Sylvie and Rachel weren't so busy in the kitchen, Polly would love to hear what they thought about it, but there was too much going on. When she'd picked Kayla, Andrew and Rebecca up, they were ready to get out of Sycamore House. Sylvie had fed them lunch, but apparently she'd been short-tempered with them. No one said anything, but they were glad to be gone.

"What do you think about it all, Obiwan?" Polly asked her dog. "Is there something I should be doing? Jeff told me I didn't need to stay at the coffee house, we have a strange new man in town, Sylvie doesn't want anyone in her kitchen and I don't want to sit in the office and twiddle my thumbs."

He rolled over on his back on the sofa and nuzzled her elbow. Polly obeyed and rubbed his belly. "You aren't helping. And by the way, what was up with all of that attention you gave Alistair Greyson? You're my barometer. Is he really a good guy?"

Obiwan's eyes closed and his body relaxed beside her. "Fine," Polly said quietly. "Sleep. You're useless."

When her phone rang, Obiwan's paws twitched, but he didn't move until she twisted to retrieve the phone from her back pocket.

"Hey there, what's up?" she asked Henry.

"I just drove past the inn and that guy we're putting up is outside pulling weeds," Henry said.

Polly chuckled. "He's what?"

"He's pulling weeds underneath the sign and it looks like he's been working his way down the front of the building. Do you know what's up?"

"Uhh, no. I took him over to the city yard to get the rest of his belongings from his truck this morning and then we had lunch, but I have no idea why he's doing yard work." She wondered if he and Jeff had talked about this. "Let me call Jeff. Maybe he knows."

"It's no big deal. He's doing a great job. I just thought I'd ask."

"What are you doing out and about?" she asked.

"Dad sent me to Ames to pick up supplies. I'll be at the shop for a while. Do we have plans for tonight?"

"No, it's quiet and since it's warm out, I thought we could spend it outside again."

"Sounds good. I'll see you later."

"I love you. Thanks for checking up on the inn," she said.

"I love you, too."

They hung up and she dialed Jeff's number. It went straight to voice mail, so she figured he must be busy.

Polly jumped up from the couch and Obiwan startled awake, his feet hitting the floor right behind her. He gave a bark and she looked down. "Sorry, bud. Didn't mean to freak you out. I can't sit still. I have that brand new truck in the garage and I want to put some miles on it. Do you want to go for a ride?"

There were a few phrases that the dogs recognized immediately and 'go for a ride' was one of them. He wagged his tail and trotted through the house to the back stairs. Polly poked her head in the main kitchen and left when she saw Sylvie run her hand across her forehead. Rachel was kneeling in front of the open oven and both were frazzled. Polly had tried to help in the past and had learned a quick lesson: Sylvie would ask for help when she needed it. Otherwise, Polly needed to stay out of the way when they were under stress.

Polly and Obiwan got in the truck and she backed out and drove toward the inn. She had to see this for herself.

She pulled into the parking lot and didn't see Greyson anywhere, but there were small piles of weeds in the parking lot. Polly drove around the building, pulled up under the canopy and rolled her windows down, telling Obiwan to stay. She opened the front door of the hotel, startling everyone as Grey was coming out, carrying a broom and a small trash can.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm gathering the weeds," he responded, as if it were quite normal for a guest to work on the property.

"But..." she started.

"Ms. Giller, I intend to stay for a goodly length of time. Remaining in that room, beautiful as it may be, with nothing to keep me occupied, would serve none of us. Please excuse me?"

She backed up and held the door for him. "You could find many other things to do in town, though. There's a library and several restaurants."

"You are correct, Ms. Giller, but this needed to be done and so I set my hands to it. In just a few minutes, it will be swept up and then won't it look beautiful?" He nodded back toward the inside of the building. "I assisted two of your guests with questions regarding their stay. You will find notations for all that I did."

"On the computer? You were able to access the computer."

He stopped and bowed his head. "I apologize profusely if I overstepped my bounds. It was quite simple and I was able to serve them without concerning any of you. You are all quite busy."

"Not that busy," she protested. "Wasn't Stephanie here?"

"Aye, that she was. But she had a multitude of calls come in demanding her attention. Once the admissions were complete, I assured her that all would be well."

Polly shook her head. "I guess all I can do is say thank you."

He bowed. "I am grateful for the opportunity. Now if you will excuse me, I would finish this project."

She watched him sweep up the parking lot, astounded at what was happening. But he wasn't about to let her stop him, so she got back in her truck and tried to decide what to do next.

"Come on, Obiwan. We have another stop to make."

Polly drove up town and parked in front of the coffee shop. She didn't know whether to be furious or grateful. Did the man assume too much or was he just being helpful? She snapped a leash on Obiwan's collar and they went inside.

Rebecca gave her a little wave when the bell on the door announced their entrance. Polly's heart surged with love. They'd talked a few times about Sarah's death, but Polly knew that she still cried herself to sleep some nights. As much as the girl missed her mother, it still overwhelmed Polly when Rebecca publicly acknowledged her. She knew it was silly, but that didn't stop her feelings.

"Where's Jeff?" she asked as she walked over to the kids. Seventy-five percent of the books had been shelved and while Polly could change their arrangement, making room for knick knacks and signs, they'd done a nice job.

"He's in the back room with everybody," Andrew said.

"Everybody?"

Rebecca glanced at the back room. "There's like six people with him. They got everything organized and ready and he started training them on the register and stuff. I heard him say that a delivery was coming in tomorrow and if enough of them learn how to make the drinks they could maybe open this weekend. Wouldn't that be awesome? We could come here after school."

Polly slowly nodded. She hadn't thought about that. Sal wouldn't be thrilled that this place filled up with elementary aged kids in the afternoons. It made her chuckle. Hopefully the kids weren't drinking coffee yet, but hot cocoa would be a popular item when the weather got cold. The coffee shop was only a few blocks from the school and on a direct path to the library. Maybe Sal could work here during the early part of the day and spend her afternoons somewhere else. It made Polly chuckle. This could get interesting. Then again, she doubted that many parents would pay for coffee shop drinks. Maybe they'd be fine.

"What you three have done looks good," Polly said. She'd worry about kids and the coffee shop another day.

"You can put a lot more books in here," Andrew said, gesturing around the room. He was right. There were plenty of empty shelves. But all of that would come in time.

"Maybe you should donate some of yours," she responded with a smile.

His eyes grew big as he looked at her in shock. "Mine? I'm keeping my books."

She shrugged. "It was just a thought."

"It was a terrible thought. Don't have that one again, okay? Especially in front of Mom."

Jeff came out of the kitchen with six people in tow. She recognized the two kids who had stopped in the other day. There were two other young people, a woman about Polly's age, and then an older woman she'd seen in town.

"Polly!" he exclaimed and strode across the room. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet one of the owners of the shop. This is Polly Giller. She owns Sycamore House and you might have seen Sycamore Inn out on the highway. Polly, do you remember Rena Acosta and Skylar Morris?"

She nodded and smiled at them, then put her hand out to shake theirs.

Jeff continued. "This is Benny Wilson and Julie Smith." He gestured to the other pair of young people and then put his hand on the woman who was Polly's age. "This is Camille Specht, who will be managing the coffee shop and then this," he got the attention of the older woman who had wandered over to see what the kids were doing, "is Helena Black."

Helena Black rushed back over and thrust her hand in front of Polly. "It is so nice to finally meet you," she said effusively. "We hear all about the famous Polly Giller and I've seen you around town, but I just haven't had the chance to introduce myself to you. My husband is Donnie. He farms out north of town, just down from your husband's aunt and uncle. They're awfully busy and we don't see them as often as we'd like. I heard all about your escapade a few months ago. How awful. To be kidnapped and held like that. You'd think they would have better security in those psychiatric places. You know, I had a great uncle who worked in Clarinda, back when it was for the criminally insane. He had a lot of stories, he said, but then he told us that he'd keep them to himself because he didn't want to give us nightmares."

She took a breath and Jeff stepped in. "What brings you up here, Polly?"

"I didn't realize you were so busy," she said and turned back to Helena Black. "It was very nice to meet you. In fact, it was nice to meet you all. I hope you enjoy working here."

Helena took a breath and opened her mouth, but Jeff said, "Excuse me," and took Polly's arm, guiding her and Obiwan away from the group.

They walked back outside and Polly giggled. "You're going to let her loose on customers?"

"She's a nice person," he said sheepishly. "But Camille assures me she can handle it. I like her. She'll be a great manager."

Polly shook her head. "I'm so glad you are handling all of this. You're so much better at looking past first impressions. Camille and Benny aren't from here?"

He chuckled. "What gave you that idea?"

"Because I didn't know we had any African Americans living in Bellingwood." Polly grinned. "It's our job to just stir these folks up, isn't it."

"I didn't hire them because of that, but if it's a side effect, all the better. They got used to Eliseo and they got used to me. This should be easy. And Camille is good. She's run a coffee shop before, but for the last three years, she managed a college food service. She wanted to move back to central Iowa and thinks this could be fun. I think she'll be a great help to Sylvie, too."

"They've met?"

"Sylvie introduced us. I think they met at a food conference. Now, did you need me?"

Polly creased her brows together. "I forgot. No. Wait. I remember."

"Helena has that effect on us." He laughed at his own joke. "No, that's not nice. Okay, enough. What's up?"

"Alistair Greyson was pulling weeds at Sycamore Inn." Polly put her hands in her pockets.

Jeff wrinkled his forehead, "Oh no! Were they special weeds?"