Read River's Song - The Inn at Shining Waters Series Online

Authors: Melody Carlson

Tags: #Melody Carlson Beautifully Tells A Generational Story Of A Family Living Alongside The Banks Of Oregon'S Siuslaw River.

River's Song - The Inn at Shining Waters Series (9 page)

Anna found an old board and while painting the words in white, she realized that Grandma Pearl was similar to a real pearl. Her grandmother's early life had been full of hardships, just like the rough sand that sneaks into an oyster, irritating and rubbing against it. But like an oyster pearl, her grandmother had been polished smooth by her challenges. Anna had never known a sweeter, kinder, more generous soul than her grandmother. She had been a pearl!

10

When Babette arrived, Anna hurried down to meet her at the dock. "I'll take this up to the house,"Anna said as she lifted the covered basket from Babette's arms. "You go and see the cabin."

"Oui! I cannot wait."

They went their separate ways and Anna felt eager to hear Babette's reaction to the completed project. Anna had been nearly unable to tear herself away from the cabin after she'd put the last bit into place. She'd just wanted to stand there and stare and stare, as if she could absorb its sweetness into her being. For some unexplainable reason the accomplishment of transforming that cabin into a usable space was very fulfilling.

As Anna went into the house, she smelled something delicious waft up from the basket. Babette was one of the best cooks on the river. In fact, she often gave Anna and Dorothy cooking lessons when they were in high school. But Mother never wanted much of Anna's help in the kitchen, so it wasn't until Anna married that she was able to attempt some of Babette's recipes again. Of course, Anna's meals never turned out quite like Babette's, but there had been a brief period of time, before their lives were permanently interrupted by the war, that Adam had appreciated her efforts. "Not only is she beautiful," she'd heard him brag to his buddy Earl once, "but she can cook too!" Back then, she had brushed off his praise and compliments. Had she realized how limited those words would be, she might've welcomed them more.

"Oh, chérie," Babette gushed as she burst into the house. "It is so sweet! Delightful! Your friend Hazel, she will be pleased." Babette removed her hat, hanging it on the hook by the door." And the flowers you put in the pretty yellow pitcher on the table.
Perfect!"
She came over and kissed Anna on the cheek." You respect the value of beauty. You make good French girl."

Anna laughed. "I'm too old to be any kind of a girl."

"Non!" Babette held up her hand. "Do not say such a thing. You are as young as you feel
inside."
She smiled. "And you will get younger each day if you stay here on the river with me. I will personally see to it.

Anna laughed even louder at that. "I almost think you would."

Babette came closer, peering into her eyes. "That mother-inlaw—she maybe try to steal the beauty of your soul, but she no get eet. I see . . . eet ees still there, chérie."

As Babette put the covered baking dish in the oven to warm and saw to some other preparations, Anna started to set places on the humble kitchen table, then changed her mind. Instead, she decided they would eat in the dining room, which wasn't exactly a room, but an open area where a table that could seat up to ten people was situated by a large window that looked out onto the river. And since her guest was Babette, and because Anna felt festive, she opened the china hutch that Daddy had made when Anna was small, carefully removing her mother's good china.

"Ooh, how lovely," Babette said when she saw the table. "I feel very special."

"Good." Anna smiled at the ivory dishes trimmed with narrow strips of gold and black. "You should." Now she told Babette about her first year of her marriage. "I thought about you a lot during that year," she confessed.

"Moi?"

"Yes. I remembered the way you cooked and kept your home—you know, with things like fresh flowers on the table or candles burning just because you liked the light they gave out, not because you needed them, since you already had electricity."

Babette chuckled. "Your mother, God bless her soul, thought I was wasteful."

"I'm sure she simply wished she could've afforded to be wasteful too."

"Life ees too short not to enjoy. My first husband, Pierre, the miner who died too young but left me my fortune, he never got to enjoy much. When I marry Bernard, I tell myself that each day I enjoy ees gift from God . . . and Pierre. Ees good way to live, no?"

Anna nodded as she set the butter dish on the table. "If you can do it, it's very good. But once Adam came home, well, in the condition he was in . . . it seemed impossible to enjoy much of anything."

Babette tapped her head. "His mind . . . ? Eet was unwell, no?"

"Very unwell. He blamed himself for the deaths of the men serving under him. So many died. And I know Adam felt he should've died too. I'm not even sure why he didn't. Besides losing his arm, he had some injuries from shrapnel that should've killed him."

"Oh, my."

"It was due to his education and age that Adam went into the army as an officer—although I still wonder why his superiors felt he was qualified to lead young boys into a bloody battle like that. It still mystifies me."

"Nothing prepares a man for war. Nothing."

"But before the war, Babette, we were happy. I never realized at the time how short-lived our happiness would be."

"That ees why the Good Book say—live today for all eet ees worth, for we do not know about tomorrow."

"At least I can say that I lived like that for awhile—before the war stole it all away. After that, well, it seemed to take all my strength to simply make it through a single day. I'd go to bed and almost wish there wouldn't be another one." Anna went to the drawer where her mother used to keep "emergency" candles now. She pulled out a couple of old yellowed ones then got out the silver candelabra that Daddy had given Mother one Christmas. It needed some polishing, but that could come another day. She stuck the candles into place and lit them, and, setting the candelabra in the center of the dining table, she smiled. Too bad she hadn't thought to pick a bouquet of wildflowers for the house. Although, that could come later too.

Babette removed the baking dish and soon they were seated at the table. "Very beautiful, chérie. You like I say blessing?"

"Thank you."

They both bowed their heads and Babette asked a sweet simple blessing and then they began to eat the tartiflette casserole Babette had prepared. Once again, Anna felt sad to think how much her mother would've enjoyed this . . . but perhaps she was smiling down from heaven.

"Everything was delicious,"Anna told Babette as they cleared the table. "Just like I knew it would be."

"Merci."

Anna was aware this wasn't an economical meal. The cheeses and wine were not cheap. She could imagine her mother commenting on this extravagance—after Babette was gone, of course—but this reminded Anna about her own concerns over finances. "Did you have time to order my groceries yet?" she asked as she carefully rinsed a plate.

"Oui. Your order ees placed and will be delivered the next time Henry comes upriver. Maybe tomorrow even."

"Oh. . . ." Anna was disappointed, wishing she'd planned this better. "I just hope you didn't order too many groceries for me, Babette. It's embarrassing to say this, but, well, my funds are rather limited."

Babette's brow creased, as if confused, or perhaps she assumed Anna had the same kind of assets that she did— unlimited. "Oh . . . I am not sure of the total cost, chérie." She cocked her head to one side with a curious expression. "You know about the teapot, no?"

"The teapot? Oh, did you want some tea?"

Now Anna was puzzled. "You mean the teapot with the bad crack in the back?"

"No, that ees not what I mean. I mean the teapot with the pink rosebuds?"

"Oui. That ees eet."

Anna nodded, but now felt more confused.

"You mention money. Do you know about the teapot?"

"What do you mean? Is it valuable?"

Babette laughed. "No, no, not on the outside, chérie."

"What?"

"Go—go and get." She pointed to the china hutch. "Eet ees on top, left-hand side, hidden behind cups and saucers."

Anna opened the left cabinet door, carefully moving the dainty teacups until she spotted the old teapot. Anna and Daddy had gotten this teapot at the mercantile in town one year, a surprise for Mother's birthday. But it had cracked the first time Mother put hot water in it. Daddy had wanted to take it back, but when Mother heard it was the only teapot like that in the store, she wouldn't let him return it. Mother adored pink rosebuds—and so she decided to keep the teapot around just to look at, using her old white crockery one to make tea. And sometimes she used the cracked teapot as a vase.

"Here it is." Anna carefully pulled it out. But she could tell by the solid feel of it that there was something inside.

"Open eet!"

Anna set it down on the table and removed the lid to see what looked like a large bundle of bills. "Oh!"

"Your mother's secret savings account in the First National Bank of Teapot." Babette laughed. "She told me of eet a few years ago, after she closed the store. In case there was ever emergency. I almost forgot."

Anna unrolled the bills to see mostly twenties and tens and a few fives. "There must be several hundred dollars here."

"Ees that all?" Babette sounded disappointed. She came over to look more closely. "Oh, I thought the bills would be bigger. Still they are good, no?"

Anna laughed. "I'm not complaining, Babette. This might not be that much to you, but it will help me a lot."

"Très bon! Now for dessert."

As Babette served two dishes of chocolate mousse, Anna complimented her on her culinary skills again. "You're an inspiration to me."

"Merci."

"I want to improve my own cooking abilities. I used to try to imitate you in the early years of marriage, but then life changed and I lost the desire to do more than just the basics. So I've never really mastered French cuisine."

"I will teach you."

Anna nodded eagerly, but then realized it was probably useless.

"Why unhappy? You no want Babette to teach you?"

"That's not it. I just imagined cooking something like this for my mother-in-law. She'd probably complain about it."

"Oh, no, no, no!" Babette waved a warning finger in the air." I will no teach you if you cook for that nasty witch woman. Babette's food too good for her."

Anna laughed. "I agree."

"Do you really cook for her—every day?"

"Cook, clean—you name it, I do it—every day."

"And now? You are not there? Will she starve?" Babette's tone was skeptical.

"I've tried to teach Lauren to cook. Between the two of them, they'll get by. But it won't be anything like this." She waved her hand over the table. Now she told Babette about how Lauren liked to have friends over and how Anna worked hard to make it nice when she did. "Although it's a bit like running a boarding house. Or a small inn." She chuckled. "In fact, my mother-in-law sounded a bit distressed when I spoke to her yesterday."

"Good. She should be distressed. Maybe she appreciate you."

"I hate to imagine what the kitchen must look like by now. Or the bedrooms. You know there are six bedrooms in that house and sometimes when Lauren has her friends over, every single bed will be slept in. And then there are the bathrooms— three of them. And the towels. Do you know how much laundry that makes?"

"Oh, my." Babette just shook her head. "If I have my way, chérie, you will never go back to that workhouse.
Never!"

"What about Lauren?"

"She will come here." Babette made a firm nod, like it was settled.

Anna sighed. "I don't know—"

"If she love her mama, she will come."

Anna was planting the last of the seeds, tucking the fat pumpkin seeds into the small hill mounds just like Mother used to do, when she heard the sound of a boat engine chugging along. She paused, listening to see if it was simply passing by or stopping at her dock. And then she realized it was the sound of a larger engine. Maybe it was Henry.

Henry's boat was just pulling alongside her dock as she came around from behind the house. And there, waving from the stern, was Hazel. Hello-hello!" she called cheerfully. "I'm back!"

Anna waved, returning her greeting, as she went out on the dock.

"Anna Pearl," Henry called back. "You look almost like your same old self today."

She laughed as she caught the end of his rope, holding it while he helped Hazel out of the boat.

"With them pigtails and coveralls, why I'd swear you was just a young'un when you was running out to meet us. I think our sweet river air is good for what ails you, girl."

"Thanks, Henry. It sure is great to be here."

He went back into the boat now, returning with a wooden crate that he passed over to her. "I brung your grocery order 'long with me. Greeley said he put it on your bill and you can settle up with him later." He nodded to Hazel. "And the missus here covered the delivery fee, so if you don't need nothing more, we'll get this stuff unloaded and I'll keep moving along. Lots of deliveries to make today."

Anna stood next to the boat, just like Daddy used to do, as Henry handed out boxes and luggage and some heavy cases, and she set them on the dock.

"Reckon that's everything. If'n it's not, you'll see me back here again 'fore the sun goes down."

"Thanks, Henry," she threw him back the rope.

He nodded toward Hazel now. Already loaded down with suitcases, the older woman was already on her way. He winked at Anna. "Now that one there, she be a talker, that's for sure."

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