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Authors: Terri DuLong

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BOOK: Postcards from Cedar Key
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“My goodness,” Maude said. “I had never heard of this either. Do you know if you have it, Berkley? Have you been tested?”
I nodded. “My mother's doctor highly recommended that I go through the genetic testing not only to see if I had it but also to determine if I was a carrier. Because sometimes if it's only inherited from one parent, you don't necessarily have hemochromatosis, but you can be a carrier and pass it on to your children. But I tested negative on both counts. Thank God.”
“And why isn't everyone just routinely tested during an annual physical?” Liz questioned.
“Hmm, that would be great if that could be done, but I'm afraid that as with most things in health care, it has to do with money. Early detection and treatment would be very effective, and many researchers, educators, and advocacy groups have suggested widespread screening. But a simple, inexpensive, accurate test for screening doesn't exist. The genetic test does provide a definitive diagnosis, so I was fortunate to have good health insurance that covered that.”
“Gosh, such a shame,” Dora said. “To think that if your mother had known she had this . . .”
“Exactly, and the thing is, when I think back, she had the classic symptoms of the arthritis and fatigue. She was fairly active, but she always complained of being tired. After so many years of complaining about it, everyone just thought she had low energy. What's really disturbing, though, was the cause of death on her death certificate—cirrhosis of the liver.” I let out a deep sigh and shook my head. “My mother barely drank her entire life. Sure, she'd have a glass of wine or gin and tonic now and again, but a drinker? Not at all, and yet that was the cause of death, because hemochromatosis destroyed her liver.”
“I'm really sorry to hear about all of this,” Maude said. “But thank you for sharing it with us, Berkley. I think you're doing a great service to your mother by sharing your knowledge and allowing people to be aware.”
I nodded. “There is an American Hemochromatosis Society, and strange enough, it's located right here in Florida, in Lake Mary. But of course, I didn't even learn about it until after my mother died.”
Dora stood up and patted my shoulder. “I think it's time for some of the delicious monkey bread that Corabeth brought this evening. The coffee and tea should be ready to enjoy with that.”
“I'll help you serve,” Chloe said.
No, I hadn't shared about my mother being here in Cedar Key. And no, I wasn't any closer to solving my puzzle. But I did feel a sense of
completeness.
I hadn't realized that I'd had a need to share any of this part of my mother's story—but I now knew differently.
8
I
had just finished cleaning the shop when I looked up to see a young girl standing outside the door. Damn. Most likely a customer, and the floor that I'd mopped was still wet. It was only nine-thirty, a half hour before I was due to open. She was looking toward Second Street and not inside the shop, so maybe she wasn't a customer.
I went into the back room to check on my stock for the weekend, but when I returned just before ten she was still there. I flipped the sign to Open, unlocked the door, and opened it, causing her to jump.
She swung around and faced me. Tall and painfully thin, she looked like she could use some chocolate for the calorie value alone.
I sent her a smile and said, “Sorry if I startled you. Were you waiting for me to open?”
“Yeah,” was all she said as she entered the shop.
I saw her glance at the gems on the table before she focused her attention on the display case filled with chocolate.
“What can I get you?” I asked.
She flipped a strand of her long honey-colored hair over her shoulder. “Oh, I'm not here to buy anything. I was, ah . . . wondering if maybe you needed somebody to help in your shop?”
“You mean like a job?” I questioned, and she nodded. “Oh, I'm afraid not. I just opened recently, and I'm not busy enough to hire any staff. Do you live on the island?”
She looked to be about sixteen or seventeen, so I wondered why she wasn't in school.
“We just moved here. We live out on Twenty-four. I could really use a job, though.”
“Wouldn't it interfere with your school studies? I'm Berkley, by the way,” I said, extending my hand.
“Oh, I'm not in school anymore,” she said, returning the handshake. “My name is Paula. Do you know of anybody else in town that might be looking for help?”
I knew the economy was bad across the country, and I also had a feeling that this girl wasn't out of school by choice. “What type of work are you looking for?”
“Anything,” she said without hesitating. “I can do cleaning or work a cash register. I tried the restaurants, but they didn't have any waitress jobs.”
There was a sense of eagerness about her along with a hint of desperation.
“So you live here with your family?” I questioned.
“My mother and my younger sister. We're staying at the Low-Key Motel. For now.”
A family of three living at a motel? I knew there was more to her story, but I didn't want to keep prying.
“Gosh,” I said, letting out a deep sigh. “I wish I could help you, but I'm not in a position to hire anybody just yet. Have you tried the yarn shop down the street?”
She shook her head.
“Well, I honestly don't know if they need any help. But Miss Dora and Chloe own the shop. You might want to pop in there and check.”
A smile crossed her face along with a hopeful expression. “Gee, thanks. I appreciate that. Can I tell them that you sent me?”
I laughed. “Sure. You can tell them you stopped by here and I don't have any work right now.”
“Thanks again,” she said, and turned to go.
“Oh, hey, Paula. Wait a sec. You said you have a younger sister?” I went behind the counter and slipped on a plastic glove as I removed some chocolates from the case to fill a small box. “Here,” I said, passing it to her. “On the house, and welcome to the island. I bet your sister might like some chocolate.”
“Really?” she said as her hand slowly reached across the counter. “Thank you. That's really nice of you.”
“And check back with me now and then. I might eventually end up needing some part-time help.”
“I will. Thanks again.”
I watched her walk out the door and felt a stab of sadness. Here I was trying to search for answers, but this young girl seemed to be looking for survival.
 
Shortly before five I locked up the shop and headed down the street to Yarning Together. Flora had given me a pattern the night before for a pullover sweater, and after I got home I discovered that I'd misplaced my number eight needles. I was also curious if Paula had stopped by there to see about work.
“Hey,” Chloe said, turning from the cubbyhole where she was arranging scrumptious colors of yarn in rainbow shades. “Done for the day?”
“Yup, and I need a pair of size eight needles.”
“Hi, Berkley,” Dora said, coming out of the back room. “Size eight, huh? Right here.” She pointed to the revolving stand. “Bamboo? Circular or straight? Take your pick.”
“Thanks.” I removed a pair of the Addy circular needles. “I like these. I'm not sure you actually knit faster with them, but that's what the label says.”
Dora laughed as she rang up the sale. “Guess it's what you get used to.”
“Did you have a girl stop by here today looking for work?” I asked as I passed her the cash.
“We did,” Dora told me. “That's a sad story.”
I should have known that somebody in town would have the information. I was quickly learning that news spread fast in small towns. “She stopped by my shop, but unfortunately I don't have any work to give her.”
Dora passed me the bag and nodded. “We're going to see what we can do for her. I told her to give me a few days and maybe I can come up with some odd jobs. She lives with her mother and sister out at the Low-Key on Twenty-four. They came here from the Orlando area. Flora works at the Food Pantry, and she met the mother there a couple weeks ago when they first came here. The mother's divorced, but seems she had a pretty good job for a company in Orlando. They owned their own house, but then the company downsized, she lost her job, the ex-husband took off for parts unknown, and then the bank foreclosed on the house.”
“How did she end up here? Does she have family here?”
“No,” Chloe said. “Flora told me that she's originally from Chicago, but her parents are both gone and there's nobody to help them. She'd been here a few times with her husband when they first got married and knew she could keep their travel trailer somewhere on the island and it wouldn't be too expensive.”
“Right,” Dora said. “They were staying in a motel in Orlando, but that got way too pricey for them. It was tough on the kids too, going to school from a motel room. So they drove the travel trailer here, and I think Carol and Pete are giving them a weekly break at the RV space.”
I shook my head. “So the three of them are living in a small travel trailer? No wonder the older girl is looking for work. I guess she's not in school?”
“No, she quit,” Chloe said. “Her mother begged her not to, but she's almost seventeen and she said she wanted to help with the finances and get a job instead.”
“What a shame. Now I feel even worse that I had nothing for her.”
“Well, I'm going to speak to Monica,” Dora said. “She just mentioned the other day that with the triplets getting bigger she could really use a pair of extra hands and might consider hiring a babysitter. Actually, she called it a
nanny
. In my day, they were babysitters.”
I laughed. “Oh, that would be great. Paula struck me as a responsible girl, and if she has a younger sister, she's used to kids.”
“Right. So hopefully this will work out for her. Well, time to close up, Chloe,” Dora said, walking to the door to flip the sign.
Chloe glanced at her watch. “Yeah, it's almost five-thirty. Hey, Berkley, I'm heading over to the Pickled Pelican to grab some dinner. Wanna join me?”
I had planned to have some leftover lasagna, but the escargot and a salad that I knew was on the restaurant menu tempted me. “I think I will. Sounds good.”
“Dora?” Chloe questioned. “Why don't you join us?”
“Oh, thanks, but no. I have to get Oliver home for his dinner.”
At the mention of his name, the dog lifted his head and looked at Dora questioningly.
“Yes, Oliver. You put in a good day at work. Time to go home and rest. Not that you don't get plenty of resting here all day.”
Chloe and I laughed as we left the shop and headed to Dock Street.
 
“That sure beat leftover lasagna,” I said when we finished dinner.
“My chicken was excellent too.” Chloe took a sip of wine and glanced across the railing over to Atsena Otie. “Such a pretty night to eat outside.”
My eyes followed a flock of pelicans as they swooped to the water, catching their own dinner.
“Yup. And I never get tired of looking at the scenery here.” I let out a deep sigh. “I can understand why my mother came here,” I said before I even knew what was coming out of my mouth.
I saw the look of surprise that covered Chloe's face across the table. “What? Your mother came here? So you
have
been here before?”
I shook my head and took a sip of my cabernet. “No. I was never in Cedar Key until last year. That was my first trip here.” I avoided looking at Chloe as I rolled my paper napkin in a ball. “Actually, I wasn't quite honest with you when I met you at the coffee café.” When she remained silent, I went on. “It's a long story, but my mother came here back in 1972. For the summer.”
“Oh,” Chloe said. “Without you?”
I nodded. “Right. Without me. I stayed with my grandmother in Salem.”
“Did she come here for work?”
“I have no clue why she came here,” I said and then proceeded to fill Chloe in on my story.
“Wow. So both your mother and grandmother would never tell you why she came here? It all sounds so mysterious. I mean, gee, there had to be a reason, and it doesn't make sense that even when you got older they refused to talk about it.”
“Exactly. None of it ever made sense to me.”
“And the only way you finally found out
exactly
where she went was from the postcards she sent to your grandmother? That's amazing.”
“Yup. If I hadn't found those postcards after my mother died, I never would have known that this is where she came that summer.”
“Why was it such a secret, I wonder. Do you have any idea why she would have come here without you?”
I laughed. “Yeah, a million ideas but no answers. I wondered if maybe she was pregnant—as unlikely as that scenario was. I thought maybe she just didn't want to raise a kid anymore, came here, thought better of it, and then went back to Salem. I also wondered if maybe she was ill, but when I got here last year and saw there were no hospitals or even a doctor on the island, I knew that couldn't have been why she came.”
“How about the postcards? No hints there as to why she ended up here?”
“Nope. None. Just short messages from my grandmother telling her that I was doing okay. And my mother only wrote back updates on the weather here or that she was fine. That's pretty much it.”
“So you're really here to try and find some answers.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Sometimes I think I don't even have a right to know. That it was my mother's life, not mine. They used to tell me that too, my mother and grandmother. But as I got older, I realized that her leaving me for an entire summer had affected me in many ways.”
Chloe reached across the table and patted my hand. “I can understand that. Well, then, we'll see what we can find out. There's enough locals still here that lived on Cedar Key the summer that your mother was here. So we need to start talking to them.”
I squeezed Chloe's hand as I felt the moisture in my eyes. She had said
we.
For the first time I was going to have some assistance trying to put the pieces together.
BOOK: Postcards from Cedar Key
9.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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