Spitfire (Puffin Cove) (6 page)

K, well, be cool
. Have fun. See you this summer.

Love you.

Kev

Laura laughed. How could two boys, from the same womb, raised in the same house, be so wonderfully different? She couldn't wait until they came out to see her this summer.

To: Kevin Patterson

From:
Laura Spencer

Subject:
Re: Hey

Hi sweetheart
. Things are great here. I definitely did the right thing. I miss you guys like crazy already, but summer will be here before you know it and we'll have a blast.

Go easy on your brother
. He takes everything so much more seriously than you do.

Bought a brand new Touareg
. Na-na-na-na-na! I might let you drive it when you come out. Staying at a B&B right now, but will have to look into getting my own digs before too long.

If you end up dating calculus girl, WEAR A SOCK
!

Be good
. Don't drink and drive.

Love you so much!!!!!!

Mom

xoxoxo

Most mornings after checking her emails and having breakfast with Moira and
George she wandered the town, getting to know the area. On her first morning out she discovered Blood's Garage, and had a brief, hilarious conversation with Landon and his apprentice, Brook. Landon drooled over Laura's VW, promising to take good care of it when the factory warranty ran out. Her heart had done a little flip when it hit her that she might just still be here when that happened. She turned down no less that three propositions from the blonde lothario, one of which was downright explicit, but had her howling.

She attended church on Sunday with Moira and
George. She was enchanted by the pure white wooden church on the hill, its Presbyterian ways coming back to her in waves of fond memory. A recollection so keen it brought tears to her eyes, of being a part of the church choir as a child, clutched at her heart. She was suddenly sorry now that she hadn't kept with it after she had grown. It pleased her greatly to see familiar faces in the congregation and occasionally she would catch sight of the sexy, crusty Kane. After church many of the Sullivans' friends came to greet them, and to meet the new lady in town.

She ate lunch frequently at the Bluebird Café, the savoury soups and decadent desserts making her mentally promise to start her running routine again
. Soon. She sifted through the antique shops, paying for and having stored a weather vane that inexplicably had called to her. It had been well used and needed some work, but her mind's eye could picture it mounted, somewhere, restored to its original function and importance. She also bought a secretary desk, for no other reason than it reminded her of the one that had always sat in her mother's and dad's foyer. She didn't have a house to put them in yet, but that would come when it would come.

The craft shop delighted her, and she bought a set of mahogany knitting needles and some locally spun wool
. She rubbed the wool between her fingers, thinking of the spinning classes she had indulged in one winter. She loved the crafting and creating of the wool, and the subsequent socks and mittens she had knit with it. Lola kept warm in the winter courtesy of the "little black dress" complete with pearl necklace, that she had knit the first year she had had her. Her boys had razzed her for a week when she showed them.

"
She looks dumb," Kevin had judged. "Look at her, even she thinks so." Lola had, indeed, looked quite chagrined for a few days, but eventually dragged her 'dress' out of her basket of toys and sweaters now and again to be put on when she was in the mood. A long-dormant idea began to filter through Laura's brain, about sheep and spinning and dyeing.

Dinners were frequently at Sweeney
's, where she met a few of the families in town. The odd early tourist, trucker or business man travelling through would be there, but the pub stayed generally quiet throughout that first week of Laura's indeterminate future.

Moira and
George had generously offered to share their lunches and suppers with her, saying that she was already more like a daughter to them than a guest. She graciously refused, not wanting to put them to any extra trouble. But also, she didn't want to be held to a schedule, or feel the need to check in, or out.
"Won't be home for supper tonight, Moira"
. Uh-uh. Best not to start down that road. They didn't seem offended, and were likely relieved. Retirees generally didn't like to stick to a schedule either. But bless their hearts for asking. A bed and breakfast was supposed to be just that.

She paid for the full week after her first night in the wonderfully cozy bed
. She felt no burning desire to explore beyond this town just yet. Waking up in the morning with the windows wet with mist exhilarated her. The sea was right
there
. In front of her bedroom window. Lola had been behaving, too, so they weren't evicted yet.

The cry of the gulls through the open window woke her up early on her first truly clear day
. An unsuspecting morning that became an experience of a lifetime. She had awakened in time to see the sun rise.

Oh, she ha
d seen sunrises at home lots of times, but never through sea-kissed windows. And never the earliest, most spectacular sunrise in the whole country.

Her head propped up on feather pillows, she watched as dark sifted into pre-dawn
. As the sky lightened, a tiny dot of light appeared on the line between sky and sea, winking its cycloptic good morning. She watched, expectant, as the dot grew and ripened, sending peaches and pinks and roses bleeding across the horizon, until it popped up over the waves, trumpeting its silent arrival with rays of light and warmth.

Laura
clutched the quilt to her chest, breathing heavily for no other reason than having witnessed the majesty of a new day. Fleetingly, she wished she had someone to share the spectacular moment with. Over the years she had had those occasional moments of keen longing for a companion, but with her life so busy with the boys, work, and her houses, they were few and far between. Besides, now that she was into the next chapter, she was realizing more and more that life was too short to wish it away. Carpe diem was her new motto. Seize the day!

Later that day, she sat at
'her' table by the Bluebird's dessert case. She didn't want to sit near the window. It was too…aloof. She would rather be near the action, chatting with Arlene, the shopkeeper, or people-watching as they made their agonizing decisions - an éclair or a thick wedge of pie, or maybe that tall, flaky Napoleon. Laura would dutifully chose a delicious green salad or vegetable soup for lunch each day, but then couldn't help but indulge in a little sweet to go with her tea.

The
bell over the shop door tinkled and a lovely, delicate blonde came in to the café, with the prettiest child Laura had ever seen trotting just behind her.

"
Hey, Arlene. How's business?" she trilled. She had a sweet, soft voice. One that Laura wanted to hear again.

"
Hey Jill, Miss Shannon. Right as rain, me duckies. Pies selling like hot cakes, as always."

The ch
ild giggled at the comeback she had probably always known. Laura sipped her tea, her eyes smiling at the little girl.

Shannon
gasped and tugged on her mother's coat.

"
Momma," she whispered loudly into her hand, her eyes wide with wonder. "That lady's purse is moving."

Laura
looked down to see that, indeed, her bag was moving. She had cleared it with Arlene the first time she had come in to the café. She promised that Lola would stay in the bag while Laura had her lunch, and Arlene thought that it would be alright, as long as none of the other customers complained. That would
never
have been allowed back home. No-one had ever seemed to take notice, until the half-pint picked it off thirty seconds into the room.

Laura
smiled at the pretty blonde, was nodded silent permission, and lifted up her bag.

"
Oh, my goodness! What on earth could be in my purse? I wonder if it's a horse!"

"
Naw, you can't gets a horse in a purse," Shannon chided.

"
Well what could it be? I hope it's not a lion!" Laura's eyes widened in mock fear.

"
What is it? What is it?" The girl hopped from foot to foot, zero to sixty on the excitement scale in two seconds flat.

God
, Laura missed kids. She unzipped the bag and Lola's head popped out.

Shannon
shrieked, "A puppy! A puppy! Momma, she gots a puppy in her purse! Can I pet her? Can I hold her? What's her name? Don't she get hot in there? How does she breathe?"

Jill
's clear laugh tinkled out and Laura chuckled as she pulled Lola the rest of the way out of the bag, asking and receiving a mouthed
okay
from Arlene.

"
This is Lola. And you must be Miss Shannon. Lola, meet Shannon. If you are very, very good, Shannon might hold you for a minute, as long as her mommy says it's okay."

"
Please, Momma?" Shannon gave her mother an
I'll be good for the whole rest of the day
look.

"
Alrighty, but don't hold her too tight. She's just a wee one. May I?" Jill indicated the chair across from Laura.

"
Of course, please." She held out her hand. "Laura Spencer."

Jill
took her hand and they clasped, and a new friendship was born.

"
Jillian Bainbridge, and this shy little waif is my daughter, Shannon." Her eyes sparkled as she watched Shannon gingerly petting the tiny dog.

Laura
caught her breath and swallowed a quick lump of emotion. She cleared her throat and shook off the stab of long dormant pain.

"
Bainbridge Baked Goods? That's you?" At Jill's puzzled nod Laura continued, "Wow, you're responsible for three extra miles a week, thank you very much. Your desserts are amazing!"

"
That's not why you caught your breath. Have I upset you?" Jill's sky-blue eyes looked into Laura's green ones.
It's okay
, she telepathed.
You can tell me. It's an old hurt but a hurt just the same.

Laura
quirked her head, and said something that she rarely ever spoke of. She didn't want anyone's uncomfortable pity. "My oldest son, Kyle. He was a twin. My daughter, his sister, died the day after she was born. Her name was Jillian."

They smiled sad smiles at each other and
Jill squeezed Laura's hand across the table.

"
Well, that blows."

Laura
's jaw dropped…and a husky laugh rolled up her throat.

When she recovered her composure, she looked over at the tiny version of the small woman across from her
.

"
Shannon, your mom's a card."

"
Yeah, I know," she chimed. "She should be dealt with."

Laura
's laughter escalated into snorting guffaws as Jill and Arlene chuckled and shared a knowing glance. Laura was charmed. Clearly, there were grandparents at work here.

The three girls strolled up the sidewalk from the café, Jill and Laura arm-in-arm, Shannon's one hand clasped in her mother's, the other importantly gripping the pink leash of the dog. Jill had spontaneously invited Laura to her cottage for the afternoon and supper, and Laura marvelled again at the warmth and acceptance offered to a stranger in a strange land.

A spiffy black convertible blew past them, bramped the horn, and a leather-clad arm waved from the driver
's seat. Jill unlooped her arm from Laura's, twisted her body, and waved back.

"
Whoa, nice wheels. High roller in town, eh?" Laura appreciated the low rumble as it faded away behind them.

Jill
giggled, and hooked her arm back into Laura's. "Oh, no. That's just Kane."

Kane
. Hm. The sexy grump from the bar. "Nice looking. Too bad he's so moody."

"
Moody! Kane? Not really. Have you met him then?"

"
First night here. Tore me a new one at Sweeney's then took off like his ass was on fire. Although I must say, it is one very fine derriere." Laura fanned her face and puffed out a low woof, winking at Jill.

"
This I gotta hear. Follow me, my place is just out of town." Jill and Shannon got sorted in their car, pulled away from the curb, and Laura tailed them in the Touareg.

She passed houses and farms, most lovingly kept,
some run down and the odd one downright derelict. Newfoundland had had its share of hard times, but their economy had been slowly picking itself up and dusting itself off. The natives seemed to have a way of taking everything in stride. Those who couldn't had moved on. To Ontario, Alberta, farther. Many of the islanders still called the Rock their home, but spent weeks and months thousands of miles away in mines or tar sands or on rigs, making a living for their families down home. It seemed that a lot of them led hard lives, but Laura would never have known it by the dispositions of those she had met so far.