Romancing the Rogue (74 page)

“
Doctor? I suppose I do feel somewhat light-headed. Perhaps Dr. Johnston will come. Would you call him, please?
”

“
Dr. Johnston is in Manhattan. He
’
s not going to come to Wildwood. Dr. McManus is nearby. I
’
ll call him.
”

“
McManus? I don
’
t know him. I don
’
t want a stranger looking at my body!
”
The door started to close.

“
Do
n
’
t be silly. Dr. McManus just examined you last week, after I found you asleep on the stairway.
”

“
He did? I-I don
’
t remember…
”
She moaned and swayed.

C
r
ying
out
, Rose
pushed the door open
and
cushion
ed
her
mother
’
s fall.
S
he
tugged and pulled, trying
to drag
Lily to the bed and
nearly lo
st
her footing when
the
weight
was suddenly lifted from
her
arms.

Charlie
held
Lily
as if she were a rag doll.
“
Pull down the sheets and I
’
ll set
her
on the bed.
”

Rose closed
her
gaping mouth and tamped down the butterflies taking residence in
her
stomach. She raced to the bed and turned down the covers, grateful to have an excuse to hide
her
burning face. Goodness,
she
’
d
never once given a second thought to the young men
she
’
d
known during her college days, even though her friends had giggled and gossiped about them. But the sight of Charlie in her mother
’
s bedroom left a strange yearning inside.
Pushing the thought a
way
, she focused on her mother. There would be time
to think about
the strange feelings
later.

Charlie gently placed Lily on the bed. When
he
straightened,
he
spoke quietly.
“
Connor and I will leave. We can go to my usual spot on the Boardwalk for today.
”

Rose nodded gratefully.
“
Wait! Why don
’
t you leave the larger oil paintings in the parlor. That way you won
’
t have to bring them back and forth. If mother is better later
,
I
’
ll come and let you know.
”

“
All right. Would you like me to see Doc McManus and send him over?
”

“
That would be wonderful. Thank you, Charlie. For
—
everything.
”

An hour later, Rose paced a path in the front parlor
,
waiting for the doctor to arrive. Hadn
’
t Charlie been able to persuade him to come? Had
he
forgotten
to summon him?
No,
she reminded herself. Charlie wouldn
’
t forget.
He
was a good man
who
cared about people. She had to believe that.

The knock, when it came, made her jump, even though she
’
d been waiting for it. She greeted
the doctor
with a nod and led him up the wide stairway.

Doctor McManus had a gentle bedside manner and soon calmed Lily
’
s fears. He spoke quietly, making general observations about the weather,
her
home, and then gradually
asking
specific questions.

Finally the doctor straightened.
“
Rose, your mother and I could use some tea. Would you be so kind as to get some for us?
”

Tea? At a house call?
Rose nodded.
“
Of course, doctor. Right away.
”
She
hurried down the stairs to the kitchen and turned the burner on under the kettle. While
waiting
for the water to boil,
she
took out a large plate and covered it with an array of snacks
—
finger sandwiches and desserts.
The
cookies
she
’
d
made just a few days ago were nearly gone.
She
’
d
have to bake more
soon
.

As soon as the kettle whistled,
she
poured
the tea
into a teapot and placed it on a tray with three cups, cream and sugar, and the plate of treats. Then
she
carried it all up the stairs.

Mother
had
sat up, a pillow propped behind her. She still looked pale, but her expression brightened when Rose entered.
“
Oh, how nice of you to bring us tea! And what a lovely spread you
’
ve brought. You
’
re so talented in the kitchen. Doctor, would you be so kind as to pour for us?
”

The good doctor obliged but declined any of the snacks.
“
I
’
ve got other patients I need to see. But I want you to eat
.
R
emember, you must have more than just the sweets.
”
He turned to Rose.
“
Would you see me to the door, please?
”

Knowing there was more to his request than courtesy,
she
nodded
and
led the way down to the sitting room
.
Holding
her breath
, she
braced herself
for the doctor
’
s prognosis.

“
Rose
, your mother is not eating enough.
L
ack of nutrition is affecting
her
memory as well as
her
health. I thought perhaps you needed help buying groceries, but
she
says
she
simply
can
’
t eat when you
’
re not here.
”

“
Can
’
t eat? I leave her food every day. There
are
usually leftover
s
she can eat
.
”

“
Have you ever seen your mother open the refrigerator?
”

She thought.
“
I suppose not.
”

“
I asked if there was food in the refrigerator. Her answer was,
‘
Which box is the refrigerator?
’”

Rose
’
s jaw dropped.

“
I told her it was the large white contraption that kept food cold
,
”
the doctor continued.
“
Apparently
she
couldn
’
t figure out how to
get into
it.
She
tried pushing buttons and turning the handle but
gave up when
it didn
’
t
open
.
”

Rose felt the
room
spin, and
she
reached out for something to steady herself. Doctor McManus gently guided
her
to a settee, and
she
sank into it,
put
ting
her
head in
her
hands.

“
I had no idea
Mother
was so helpless. I know
she
can
’
t cook and can
’
t do laundry. But I really thought
she
could get food for herself while I was away. I worked at the hotel for almost
a year
while
she
fended for herself during the day. And now that I
’
m working at André
’
s, I
’
m gone most of the morning.
”

“
Don
’
t blame yourself. She
’
s been pampered all her life and hasn
’
t had to worry about things like this. Someone just has to show her how.
”

He patted her shoulder.
“
I
’
ve heard about all the hard work
you
’
re putting into making this house into an art gallery. I think it
’
s a marvelous idea. If it succeeds,
you
’
ll have the perfect solution, since
you
’
ll be here all day. And I, for one, will be glad to see Charlie Brannigan
’
s artwork featured here in his hometown.
”
He sat back
.
“
I know
you
’
ll need to leave the house
for your job and to
conduct business. Perhaps someone
could
stop in with meals for her while
you
’
re away? I can recommend someone.
”

“
Thank you, doctor, but I can
’
t really afford a housekeeper or companion for Mother right now.
”

“
I don
’
t think she needs a companion, at least not in the sense you might be accustomed to. What I
’
m suggesting is more of a friend
.
S
omeone who can come over and make sure she
’
s getting nourishment
and
also engage
her
in conversation. Someone who has had some of the same experiences as your mother and can connect with
her
. Just on the next street is Mrs. Linden, a widow whose youngest child recently married and left the house. She is at a loss, as
her
life up until now has been
her
family. Perhaps we could introduce them to each other.
”

A companion
—
a friend
—
for her mother?
“
That sounds wonderful! But how—
”

“
In addition to her cooking, Mrs. Linden is also well
known among Wildwood residents
for her
beautiful embroidery work. Might there be a place in your gallery
for some of her creations
?
”

“
Oh, what a wonderful idea! Where does Mrs. Linden live? I
’
ll make sure Mother
’
s settled for the afternoon and visit her. And could
you
suggest
anyone else
in case Mrs. Linden is not agreeable to such an arrangement?
”

Charlie
balanced
at
the top of
a ladder in the center of the dining hall
.
S
everal light bulbs in the large chandelier
needed replacing, and he was the only person in the house tall enough to reach them
. Rose hovered at the bottom of the ladder, unsure of how best to assist him. What if he should fall? What if the ancient ladder they
’
d found in the gardener
’
s shed should break?
She
couldn
’
t bear the thought. But without the new bulbs
,
the room was far too dark to properly feature the displays.
S
o
she
held
tightly
to the ladder, praying
for
the strength to keep it steady.

Once word of the art gallery became known, Rose had met with a steady stream of artisans and crafters, all begging to be included.
She
’
d
accepted a few, like Mrs. Linden
’
s embroidery and Erin Grady
’
s weaving, but most were trinkets and small items more suited for the souvenir shops on the Boardwalk. Her heart still ached for those
she
had to decline. Their hopes had been so high, and their disappointment had been palpable.

The wide double doors behind her creaked, and Rose, assuming her mother had come to inspect their work, spoke without turning her head
.
“
I
’
ll have lunch ready in a few minutes, Mother. I just want to make sure Charlie doesn
’
t fall.
”

“
Excuse me, are you open for business? I
’
m looking for some artwork for my new tea room,
”
a woman said.

“
Oh, forgive me!
”
Rose cast a smile toward the woman but held tight to the ladder until Charlie came down. Then she turned her full attention to the potential customer.

“
Good afternoon, and welcome to the Sheffield Gallery. I
’
m Rose Sheffield. What sort of pictures are you looking for?
”

“
I-I
’
m not sure. I
’
m hoping you can help me.
”

“
Of course. What is the name of your tea room, Mrs
…
”

“
Mrs. Johnson. Dora Johnson. I plan to call it
“
Dora
’
s Delights.
”

“
Excellent. What sort of decor will
you
have? Do
you
have a color scheme or a theme for
you
r establishment?
”

The woman faltered.
“
I-I
’
m not sure,
”
she replied.
“
I just got the approval from my husband to start decorating. I hadn
’
t thought that far. It
’
s going to be a wonderful place, just off the
B
oardwalk on Spencer Avenue.
”

“
What a perfect location. What kinds of food are you going to offer? Will you have sandwiches and other lunch items, or just appetizers and desserts?
”

Charlie listened as Rose worked with Mrs. Johnson. Keeping his eyes averted,
he
listened closely to the women
’
s exchange as
he
folded the ladder and put it away. Rose
was an excellent hostess and savvy businesswoman.

“
Your restaurant sounds wonderful. I
’
d like to suggest some still
life paintings Mr. Brannigan created during his time in New York.
”

When Mrs. Johnson found the still lifes too expensive for her budget, they moved on to his smaller oils and then finally to his watercolors. All the while, she engaged the new restaurateur in conversation, asking questions not only about the new business venture but her own life, as if they were destined to be the best of friends. Even if this visit didn
’
t end with a sale today, Mrs. Johnson would likely return.

“
Young man, could you help me get these paintings to my restaurant?
”

Charlie looked around for a young man then realize
d
the woman had spoken to him.
“
Er, yes of course, ma
’
am. As soon as Miss Sheffield finishes packaging them. We wouldn
’
t want them to get dirty from all the construction going on.
”

“
Oh, that
’
s a good idea. I know exactly where I want to hang these, too. I
’
m so glad Miss — Sheffield, is it? I
’
m glad
she
was here to help me pick them out. I hope Mr. Brannigan appreciates how good
she
is at selling his paintings.
”

“
I know Mr. Brannigan appreciates all that she does, but I will be sure to pass along your comments to him.
”

Rose finished wrapping the paintings and handed the bundle to Charlie with an impish smile. Her eyes sparkled with amusement.
“
Here you go, Charlie. Thank you for helping Mrs. Johnson with her purchases.
”

Charlie responded with a nod, though their gazes met in understanding. He escorted the lady down the
B
oardwalk to her
restaurant,
where she proudly gave him the grand tour and insisted he take a dime as a tip
.
Charlie let the woman ramble on about all the plans she had.

His return trip took him past the ice cream shop where he had first set up his paintings. If Rose hadn
’
t walked by that day, would he still be standing
t
here trying to sell his watercolors?

“
Could I interest you in some
ice cream,
Charlie? It
’
s a nice sunny day, perfect for
a cold treat
. I
’
ll give you a special deal and throw in a sundae for Miss Sheffield.
”
Bernie, his old friend, stood in the doorway.

“
Two for the price of one? That sounds like a great deal. Why are you so generous today?
”

“
I heard about the arrangements Miss Sheffield is making with different businesses for her
G
rand
O
pening. I
’
d like to be a part of that, too.
W
ould you t
ake her some of my ice cream? And
could you
tell her that I can fix a special treat for people who come to your grand opening? Maybe I can print up some coupons for her to give to
your visitors
.
”

~~~~

Returning to
the
gallery
,
Charlie
found Rose helping yet another customer.
Sales`
had been steady since he
’
d moved his
business
here, and
he
’
d
resigned himself to the big event
she
’
d
planned.
He
was amazed at all
she
’
d
been able to accomplish without spending a dime. But at the rate his things were selling,
he
’
d
run out of paintings before the Grand Opening.
Three or four
new
paintings
, including the one for Erin and her family,
would be completed
that
night
.
If there was enough daylight left, perhaps he
’
d
sketch out a few more. With the money Mrs. Johnson had
given
him,
he
could pay Rose her percentage, buy more supplies
,
and still have plenty to give to Ma. The thought cheered him
,
and
he
walked
with a bounce in his step.

Once Rose saw her customer off,
Charlie
put his arm around
her
shoulders and led
her
to the sitting room,
in front of
her
treat.

“
Eat this before it melts. It
’
s from Bernie
’
s Ice Cream Shop.
”

Rose sat, but she examined the bowl of creamy goodness before picking up her spoon.
“
Are you sure, Charlie? This is such a huge sundae, it must have cost a fortune.
”
Rose stared at the mound of vanilla ice cream, covered with chocolate syrup and whipped cream and topped with a cherry.
“
I
’
ve never eaten so much ice cream in one sitting, even when
—
even when we could afford it.
”

“
Eat up. You deserve it.
Bernie gave me a special deal. Since
you
’
ve brought so much business to his part of the Boardwalk he wanted to show his appreciation.
He
’
s also
hoping
you
’
ll allow him and his business to be part of the Grand Opening.
”

She paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth and frowned. Charlie began to wonder what thoughts spun around inside that lovely head. Did she not consider ice cream appropriate for her event?

“
Bernie
’
s
ice cream is delicious, and I
’
m sure the guests would love it
,
but how would we serve it? If you and I are busy greeting guests, we
’
re not going to be able to scoop ice cream as well. Does he plan to give a voucher for our guests to go take to his shop, or will he or one of his employees come here to dish it out? And how will he keep it cold enough?
”

“
He mentioned printing out coupons for your visitors, but I didn
’
t discuss the details
.
I think he just wants to be
included
somehow. This plan of yours is getting everyone in town excited
,
and they all want to be
involved
.
Why don
’
t you finish your sundae and
then
go over
to
discuss it with
him?
I
’
ve got plenty to keep me busy here.
”

She
nodded and tucked into the sundae. Charlie
really did have
things to do, but somehow they didn
’
t seem quite
as
important as watching Rose eat.
She
attacked her food the way
she
did everything else
—
with purpose and determination. When
she
made up her mind to do something,
she
gave it her all. He hid a chuckle when a drop of the melted ice cream got on a tendril of hair.

Finished with her sundae
, she stood.
“
Was there something you need
ed
before I go?
”

Charlie reached for
his
handkerchief, thankful
his
mother had insisted he take a clean one that morning.
“
I
’
m sure Bernie would be pleased to know that you enjoyed
his
ice cream, but I don
’
t think he expects you to wear it.
”
Before she could react
,
he wiped the glob from her hair and then moved to her chin, where a few melted drops had dribbled.

She
stood still, staring at him with wide eyes. Was that fear
he
saw in them? Or was it surprise?
He
moved the cloth gently across
her
face, giving
her
time to back away, hoping
she
wouldn
’
t.

And then the smoky gray darkened to a charcoal hue as awareness took hold. He stepped closer, still
moving
slowly,
his
handkerchief now trailing up
her
cheek, across
her
nose.
His
other hand rose to cup the other cheek,
his
thumb caressing her soft skin. He lowered
his
head, and
her
eyes closed,
her
lips parted, and—

“
Rose, dear. What do you think of — oh!
”
Lily
stood at the doorway, holding a selection of crocheted doilies.

Rose gasped and stepped back. The flush on her cheeks bothered him more than he cared to admit. Was
she
embarrassed to be caught in an almost
kiss with him? He
’
d known a few high
society women who liked to flirt with him but saw artist
s
as bohemian
s
, totally unworthy of any kind of
permanent
relationship. Rose was no longer wealthy, but
she
’
d been raised in that atmosphere. Did
she
consider him beneath her?

Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Charlie turned to Lily with a courteous smile.
“
Was there something you need
ed
, Mrs. Sheffield?
”

The older woman beamed.
“
Not a thing, Charlie. Not a thing. Carry on.
”
S
he swept out as silently as she
’
d come in.

Rose cleared her throat.
“
I
’
ll be going now. Er, is all the ice cream gone from my face?
”

He used his handkerchief to wipe an imaginary spot off her nose.
“
All clean. Perhaps after you get back from talking to Bernie, you
’
ll join me for a hot dog on the
B
oardwalk?
”

She hesitated, and he guessed at the reason.
“
I
’
d be honored if your mother would join us.
”
His heart started again when she nodded.

“
That would be — very nice, Charlie. Thank you.
”

W
atch
ing
her hurry out
,
he
realized
he
couldn
’
t wait
for her to
c
o
me back.

Only a few months ago
,
he
’
d looked forward to summer so that
he
could sell his paintings. Now
there was
so much more to look forward to.