Chapter 32

Elspeth

Our lives had settled into a routine. Dirk was growing quickly and toddled around nearby as I worked. He knew he wasn’t permitted near the grills but otherwise wanted to help me. It had become a bit too dangerous for my liking to have him underfoot, so I decided to find a daycare for him where he could be with other kids his age and remain safer than he was at the café.

I asked around and heard about a woman named Annabeth Luiton who lived at the edge of town and kept a few children along with her own son, Markus. One evening after we closed, I made my way to her place and found her rocking in a white chair on her porch, a child playing in a sandbox in the front yard.

“Are you Annabeth?” I called to the woman.

She smiled and motioned me forward. “You’re the young woman who works for Sadie,” she said without preamble.

“How did you know?”

She laughed in a very musical sound. “Everyone has heard of you, my dear. You are quite unique.” She had an accent that I suspected was French in origin, but not quite. “I’m Cajun,” she said before I even voiced my question. “And yes, I have the power.”

“The power?”

Rather than answer me directly she stood up. “Come, put your son down to play with Markus, and I will get you a lemonade. Sit here in this chair, and I will return in a moment.” She went inside, and Dirk was already fascinated with what Markus was doing in the sandbox. I put him down into it, and he picked up a shovel. The two were sizing one another up.

“Here we are.” Annabeth handed me a tall glass of lemonade with a slice of lemon on its rim.

She took a seat on a porch swing facing me. “So, you come looking for a place to leave little Dirk while you work?” she asked.

“How did you know?”

“I’ve been expecting you.” She smiled, kind and knowing at the same time.

“I don’t understand…”

“I have the sight, as we call it. It is inherited from my mama and grandmama and many before them.”

I’d heard of such things in books, but had never met anyone who professed to really have it. “Tell me about that?” I invited.

“Not much to tell. Some people here call us sensitives and yet others call us witches. No, no… don’t take that in a negative way. We just have an extra sense that tells us things others may overlook. Sometimes I can pick up on the energy of the person near me and yet at other times it becomes a clairvoyant sight. Nothing to worry about and certainly not scary. It’s a gift, and it can come in very handy at times.” She sipped her lemonade calmly, and I felt nothing that suggested she was strange in the least. If anything, I sensed she was very comfortable in her own skin and awareness and that gave me a subtle feeling of security.

I nodded and sipped my own lemonade as we watched the boys playing together.

“I’m told there are a great many secrets in your life,” Annabeth began. She saw the look on my face and probably the way I tensed. “No, no… do not fear. You may keep whatever secrets you hold dear. I have no intention of prying into your life.”

She looked at me, and I could see a sparkle of deep intelligence and compassionate understanding in her eyes. She looked from my face to where the boys were playing in the sandbox and then back before she said, “Have you considered how you will raise your child while living above a tiny café?”

“Yes, I’ve given that some thought, but it becomes too much to consider the distant future, so I take one day at a time.”

“Very wise,” she agreed. “But I have a suggestion for you, if I may?”

“What’s that,” I asked?

“You and I are very similar in many ways,” she said. “We are both young women with young children and no father or husband. Perhaps it would be to our mutual benefit to look out for one another? I would be your backup and you would be mine. In this way, we would both be stronger and have companionship, but yet we could live our own lives. Would you consider such a thing?”

“I’ve never thought of anything like that.”

“Would you and your son be interested in living here with me and Markus?” she asked in a gentle voice.

“Do you have room?” I asked her, looking around the place.

“Yes, I know from where you sit, it looks very small, but the building is very deep and I have four bedrooms, a kitchen, two bathrooms and the living room. I feel it is too large for Markus and myself alone, but should do quite nicely for four people. We would share a bit of the payment and you could call it your home, just as I do. I would watch your child for you while you were at work, and from time to time, when I wish to go somewhere, you could watch my son for me. How would that sound to you?”

I had never given such an arrangement any consideration. Primarily, because there was no one who offered me such a situation. I thought about it a few moments, and it made total sense. The upstairs over a restaurant was too reminiscent of how Mother and I had lived. The space offered too many dangers for a child and too many ways for the child to be ignored. Dirk had no one to play with.

This seemed to be the best arrangement possible for all of us. “Yes, I would like very much to live here with you and Markus. Could you figure out the details and let me know? I’d especially like to know when we could move in?”

“Of course, I could. It would be my pleasure to have you both with us. We could share the expenses, share the cooking and cleaning and the laundry and it would be as if you had your own home. You could move in immediately. Do you have linens for beds? If you don’t, I have plenty.”

It was if my prayers had been answered. I would no longer be alone, but neither would I need to go to Finn, to Mother, or to anyone else and ask for help ever again. I was excited to get started and picked up Dirk and put him on my hip.

I waved goodbye to Annabeth and called back to her, “Be back this evening with our things. We don’t have that much. Thank you so much for the idea and for the welcome. I truly look forward to this.”

Dirk and I headed back to the restaurant. I was very excited to tell Sadie about what had happened.

As I entered the building, I was shocked to see her feet were all that were visible from behind the counter. Setting Dirk down on the chair, I ran to see what had happened to Sadie. I could tell as soon as I looked at her, that she was dead.

Tears began to pour down my cheeks, and I went to the phone and called the sheriff’s office. I told him what happened and then took Dirk upstairs to put him down for a nap while I dealt with the authorities who were on their way.

There didn’t seem to be any doubt as to what had happened. The coroner was part of the group and as he and the sheriff looked over Sadie’s body, the sheriff said, “She had a good long life and now she’s gone to her reward.”

As hard as I tried, I could not find a silver lining to what had happened. There lay the only person who had truly ever cared for me, unselfishly. She had given me and my son a life we would not have otherwise found.

It then came to me that I no longer had a job, either. Obviously, the café would be closed. That put my plans with Annabeth in jeopardy. I had to trust that something would happen that would make everything the way it should be.

It was the day of the funeral when everything came together. I dressed in somber clothing and walked, carrying Dirk, with most of the people from town up the hill to the old cemetery behind the church that Sadie loved so well. We sang the hymns and we cried along with everyone else. The town had always known Sadie. It came as a shock to realize that her boisterous voice and wisecracks would no longer be a part of our lives.

I let myself back into the café and prepared to go upstairs and pack our things. I had no idea where we would go. Although I did have a bit of money saved, I did not have a job and therefore could not accept Annabeth’s offer.

As I started up the stairs, the café door opened and a man dressed in a dark suit came in.

“I’m sorry, we are closed,” I called to him.

“I’m not here to eat,” he said. “I’m here to see you. You are Elspeth Alexander, correct?”

“Yes, I am.” I wondered where he had come from as I had not seen him in the café before. “How can I help you?”

“It’s more about how I can help you, Ms. Alexander. I am Peter Stephens,” he said. “I represent Sadie’s estate. She asked me to come and see you directly after the funeral. She knew that you would immediately begin packing to leave. There is no need for you to leave.”

“Why is that, Mr. Stephens?” I asked. “What does any of this have to do with me?”

“You are Sadie’s beneficiary.” He set a briefcase on the lunch counter and opened it slowly, withdrawing a manila folder. “She had no other family and has left everything to you.”

“To me? Why me?”

“She said you might ask me that. She told me to tell you that you were the closest thing she ever had to a daughter.”

“Surely, you cannot be serious. She was well loved in the community and many people have helped her over the years. Why would she have chosen me?”

“Again, because she loved you. The café is yours. There’s also the matter of $300,000 in a bank account and another $500,000 in a life insurance policy.”

“What? Wait a minute. Are you telling me that is all mine?”

“Yes, indeed, I am. I have the paperwork here. All you need to do is to sign and date the documents and please be sure to consult an accountant about the inheritance taxes. After everything is said and done, I’d say you’ll end up with just about a million dollars.”

I had to grab the counter because I felt my knees weaken. There had to be some mistake; some cruel joke. There was no way this was possible.

“Are you quite okay, Ms. Alexander?”

“I just don’t know what to say. A moment ago, I was headed upstairs to pack everything my son and I own into two cardboard boxes and leave with nowhere to go. Now you tell me I’m a millionaire?”

“It would seem so. Now, there’s just one more thing,” he said, pulling out an additional paper. “Sadie owned a house, well, more of a farm, really, in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. It’s quite a place. It will also belong to you, but you must sign a non-disclosure as to how you came to have it. Only a court order can nullify this non-disclosure.”

“Why doesn’t she want anyone to know?”

“Well, Sadie was a shrewd businesswoman. She made her money off this café and the crops from the farm. She realized that if the townspeople thought she was very wealthy, the café would suffer. Jealousy and all that sort of thing, of course. So, to protect you, she wants to make sure that no one here in town knows about the farm or how you came to get it. You can tell people you live there, if you want to, but not how you came to get it.”

“I see. Well, that’s understandable, but I still cannot believe that Sadie had all this. She dressed in old cotton housedresses and always looked like she was one step from the bread line.”

“Her strategy, completely.” He grinned at the clever old woman’s surprise. “She was a character, to be sure.”

I signed the paperwork and when he left, I locked the door and sat down to a table to look everything over and try to deal with the enormity of what had just happened.

I looked around the café, at the grill where she’d taught me to fry steaks that enticed people from fifty miles away. I remembered her leaning over the fryer and showing me how to coat the catfish and deep fry it just long enough that it was cooked inside and the batter was completely brown and delicious. The walls were filled with pictures of her posing with all sorts of celebrities who had stopped by over the years, lured by the reviews of her cooking.

Perhaps that was the greatest gift she had left me; the confidence to know I was not just a blog writer, but a woman, a mother, a chef, and someone who could take of herself and a young child. She had taught me independence. I knew I would never forget her round face and twinkling eyes or the sound of her voice as she made up stories about her childhood. She had, indeed, been a character.

I stepped behind the counter and made Dirk and myself some dinner. We had catfish and hush puppies and lemonade from freshly-squeezed lemons. For dessert, there was peanut butter pie. It was a meal, and a day, to be remembered.