MSW/Jessica Fletcher and the people of Cabot Cove belong to someone else. (Have no money, make no money - written for something to do over the summer.) The character Tipper Henderson belongs to Anne and is used with permission. Willie Mac (& his kin), Taylor (&her kin) and any others that are not of the MSW world were created by my wild plot bunnies and may only be used with direct permission from me. Thanks Anne for being my Beta!

 

Murder by Skullduggery

Finished July 24th 2006 © Kats

 

Frank looked up from the sofa where he was writing and regarded his mother as she entered into the front parlor of his Aunt Jessica’s home. Lucky looked up as well and thumped her tail as Donna sighed and sat across from him. Frank placed the note book on the coffee table and looked up at his mother.

 

“Honey, it’s a beautiful day out there, why aren’t you with your friends, maybe riding bikes or something? I know Grady said he was going to take you to all the places he used to play when he comes back from moving everything, but that will be next week and I hate to see you cooped up in here all that time.”

 

“Willie and Taylor are still on their honeymoon, and Tipper is working today, as is Dr. Hazlitt. There isn’t far to ride around here on bikes and I - I haven’t made any other friends. There hasn’t been time. I’m still an outsider, Mom - I‘m ‘from away.’ Besides, I’ve taken a whole week off of my lessons and I have to catch up with them. I’m not really into playing sports, and anyone who is my age around here is helping on their parents’ lobster boats.”

 

“Well, if Willie and Taylor were here, what would you be doing with them?”

 

“Carding wool, and learning how to weave – it’s pretty cool. Mom, are we going to stay here in Cabot Cove? Even though it’s quiet, I kinda like it better than the city.”

 

Donna regarded her son. “What exactly do you like the most about Cabot Cove? The people or the seafood?”

 

Frank shook his head. “Um, I’m not wild about the fishy stuff. Moo is better. I’m learning things here, Mum, real things that, well, they don’t teach in school and maybe they should. I’m just a number when I am in the city schools. Here, they know me as Frank Fletcher, son of Grady and Donna Fletcher, great nephew of Jessica Fletcher, and it doesn’t matter that Aunt Jessica writes books, they still like to talk about me at Loretta’s beauty shop, and its not because I stink at English, its because I am a kid.”

 

“There are other things you can be doing, Frank,” she said encouragingly.

 

“I’ve already cut the grass, and taken out the trash, and swept the back porch, and clipped off the dead roses, and swept the upstairs, but I didn’t clean the bathroom yet…”

 

“The last time you were this ambitious with helping was just before you came here, and something was bothering you. Does it have anything to do with the discussion you and Tipper had the other day?” Donna inquired.

 

“No,” he said softly.

 

“Frank? It is, isn’t it…?”

 

“I would rather not talk about it, Mom.” His voice became softer.

 

Donna leaned forward and took his hands into hers. “You know you can tell me anything, honey.”

 

Donna watched the struggle on Frank’s face before he spoke in a soft voice. “She hurts inside, Mom. Someone wanted her to autograph the picture that came out in the newspaper, and it had Faraday’s picture on there. I remember what it was like to wake up in that place, and I know there are people in this town who probably think Fordham was right all along. I even hated Faraday because he made Tipper laugh, and because she looked at him like that. The way you look at Dad some times. I found myself even liking him later. If I keep doing my homework, and the stuff around the house, then I don’t have to think about what happened. I’m eleven and I feel old, Mom. I know you say I can tell you anything, but I can’t tell you everything. Not that you would love me less, but because it would upset you and Dad said we have to keep you calmer than normal,” he said ruefully. “In a way, I don’t want to go back to my old school. I don’t fit in there anymore."

 

A voice called from the kitchen. “Hello?”

 

Both Frank and Donna straightened up. “Aunt Jessica!” said Frank, springing from the sofa and covering the distance to the kitchen in leaping bounds to embrace her in a long hug.

 

“Well, my goodness it’s only been three days!” she said, returning his hug.

 

“I’ve missed you.” The door opened and Mort entered carrying someone.  Frank goggled.  “Ian!” he gasped, softly regarding the sleeping boy over Mort’s shoulder.

 

“In Frank’s room, Mrs. F?”  Jessica nodded. Frank looked at Jessica quizzically.

 

“Ian will be staying with us until Taylor and Willie return. They are in Portland attending to some things, and he will be living with them for a while. It’s been decided that he will be Willie’s apprentice.”

 

“Apprentice? But Aunt Jessica, he’s only nine!” gasped Donna.

 

Frank shrugged. “Willie said he was helping to deliver babies since he was eleven. How come Pattie didn’t come too?” he asked, curious.

 

“Because she is being apprenticed by Gram. Each of them will learn different things, and later Pattie will come here, and Ian will return home.”

 

Frank looked at his mother. “Does this mean Willie will be taking his boards to practice medicine here? He could be your doctor, Mom… I know he could make the baby healthier.”

 

“Honey, I know he is your friend but we’ve talked about this, and about living with Grandma and Grandpa Mayberry,” she said firmly.

 

“Just give him a chance, Mom! Please!”

 

Donna struggled with what she was going to say next. She looked into her son’s earnest eyes and said softly, “I am sure he is a wonderful doctor, but I don’t know him that well, and I don’t know if you would understand this, but there are ways that things are done when having a baby. It’s very difficult to, well … things are very personal.”

 

“If Willie can help save my baby sister, then you need to get over the personal things, Mom,” Frank said evenly. Snagging Ian’s bag he carried it upstairs as Mort came down.

 

Mort looked puzzled between the two women and the upstairs. Donna threw her hands up in the air. “I don’t know what to do with him. He loves it here, and your offer is very kind, Aunt Jessica, but - “

 

“You don’t have to explain, Donna - I understand.”

 

Donna closed her eyes. “Is he a good doctor?” she asked Jessica softly.

 

It was Mort who spoke up as he came down the steps into the room. “I don’t know what is going on, Mrs. F, but I can tell you that when Willie first arrived to claim that sword, I ran a check on him. He is one of the foremost authorities on immunology and he heals with herbs and plants. You don’t know him, but Taylor’s gentleman friend Anthony was in a bad accident, and he nearly died, and Dr. Hazlitt said Willie made a paste that all but cured him. He still has a long way to go, but he is alive. Frank is right - if anything can be done, Willie would be the one to do it.”

 

Donna turned to Jessica and shrugged with her hands in despair. “Aunt Jessica!”

 

“It’s all right, Donna. I understand.”

 

“But you agree with them,” Donna said with a sniff. “Does that make me a horrid mother that I won’t…?” Donna turned around and went into the parlor where Mort heard her sniffing.

 

“I’m sorry, Mrs. F. I didn’t know it was such a sensitive topic.”

 

“Mort, it’s all right. I expect there will be more tears and yelling until things are resolved. It wasn’t the peaceful vacation that was planned.”

 

Upstairs Frank ran to the bed where Ian lay and climbed beside him. He was careful not to wake the young boy with his movements, but he couldn’t help the tears that came or the gulping sobs that he tried to keep inside of him.

 

When Jessica looked in on them later she found both of them asleep, wrapped in each others’ arms. Sighing, she made her way back downstairs to where Donna was laying down on the sofa with a cold cloth on her head. It had been hard for Sara to agree to allow Ian to come to America, and George had been a tremendous help arranging for his passport to be expedited. Gram had been firm, though, and as the head of the house her decision stood for all of the families involved. Healing needed to be learned, given and shared. There were all types of healing lessons, and it was time for healing in many ways to be done.

 

She paused and saw Frank’s open note book that had fallen off of the end table in the excitement of her arrival. Picking it up she glanced at the scrawled writing and sat down as she began to read what he had written:

 

Week three of my summer. It’s hard to know where to begin, when trying to explain what you feel inside. Things you can’t tell adults or your friends because either they worry, or they think you’re strange. I feel ill inside, remembering, trying to fathom how greed and hatred can ruin people. How we take things for granted, and that there are others who live in such conditions that it makes me ashamed to have so much. To have parents who love me, and family who owns up to being related to me with pride. In all of their love and understanding I know I can’t tell them what happened, not all of it.

 

In the middle of celebrating something good and pure, my friends and I were snatched away, and held in a place where others had died. I saw things: things that gave me courage, things I can’t explain. Things that others may not have seen, or understand. I think, sometimes, that I am going mad - maybe it was the moment, or the danger that we were in. I knew if I could not find the way to safety, no one would. Sometimes I wish that moments could float away on the breeze and never be seen again. I can’t speak of what I feel in my heart, yet I know my friend who was there hurts more than I do. I know that things won’t change soon, but I worry about my mum, and my dad, and my Aunt Jessica, that the same people who have done these things would want to hurt them. Or that I would do something, and not know, and it would cause them distress. I am eleven, but I feel old before my time - it’s a burden that I can not fathom, it’s a guilt that I should not have to bear, but I do…

 

I want to be a kid again. I want to do things to get into trouble because I need a reason to be yelled at, so that I have a reason that can justify my tears, and the horrible feeling that has been a monster inside of me. I know my parents will love me regardless, so I need them to be firm with me, so that I have a reason to yell, and scream, and flail my arms around like windmills and maybe break out of what has been hurting inside of me. But I can‘t. I can‘t bring myself to do that because their lives have been up ended as well as mine. They hurt for different reasons, and I can‘t burden them with what has been stabbing through my heart since then. I know, now, why Willie cried when the storms came. I know why there is a haunting in ones heart… I don‘t know where I fit any more…”

 

Jessica closed the note book and placed it back into his back pack, zipping it closed. She regarded Donna as she slept. She understood why Donna would want to go home during this time. Children grow up, and they learn to find order in their lives. It kept things normal. For Frank and Ian, and she presumed Tipper as well, the recent events had ripped the normal away. Under the best of times victims would require years of counseling. Of course, after growing up in the Mayberry household, Frank might need even more counseling than he did from being kidnapped.

 

Settling back on the oversized chair Jessica felt her eyes growing heavy. The time difference was going to take a bit to get used to, and she had informed Donna that they would eat after everyone took a nap. It just seemed like a few heartbeats when she woke to the sound of a scream, pots falling and the distinct sound of Donna being ill. Rising from the seat she hurried to the kitchen and saw Donna clinging to the counter. A carton of eggs was tipped over and a few had rolled across the counter. Donna had knocked the frying pan to the floor. Jessica hurried forward to see what was wrong as Donna swayed and retched again.

 

It was then that Jessica saw the eggs. Every single one of them had things drawn on them. Realistic eyeballs that were bloodshot stared back at her. Some had the words

“Bum Nuts” written on them. One had a set of teeth, another had a boogey nose. One had

“Peep Inside” and another had “U Crack ME UP!” One looked like it had a very realistic worm coming out of it.

 

Donna straightened up. “FRANK FLETCHER, YOU GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!”

 

Frank lifted his head up and looked groggily around. Ian was awake. Frank looked at the younger boy and said, “Best you stay put, mate - she’s got a full head of steam and there will be a lot of shouting.”

 

Going downstairs he peeked into the kitchen and saw Aunt Jessica was trying to calm Donna down, and Donna snapping at Jessica, “STAY OUT OF THIS!”

 

Turning, Donna saw Frank in the doorway and started yelling at him. Jessica saw Frank didn’t flinch, though he wore a slightly baffled expression on his face until he walked forward to the sink to clean up the mess and saw the eggs. He didn’t try to defend himself, he didn’t try to calm her down, he just stood there and listened to her as she berated him. He only turned his head when he heard a catch of a sound in the doorway from the upstairs. She was yelling at him to continue to clean it up as she saw him leaving the kitchen.


“YOU GET BACK HERE, YOUNG MAN!” she thundered following him, then came up short as she saw Frank holding Ian as he sobbed.

 

“I’ll take care of this, Mum,” Frank said softly. “He is just scared.”

 

Jessica touched Donna on the arm and turned her back to the kitchen. “Donna, the eggs came that way.”

 

“What?” Donna gasped turning back to where she saw Frank comforting the younger boy.

 

“It’s a marketing strategy they have been trying out to increase poultry sales because of the cost of shipping the product up here. I tried to tell you.”

 

“Why didn’t he - why did he let me yell at him then?” asked Donna stunned.

 

Jessica glanced back to the room where the sounds had turned to noisy hiccups. “Because he knew that disagreeing with you would upset you more. I understand things are not going well, Donna, and I know how much you want to get things back to what you can deal with. Sometimes you need to accept the help of others, even if your heart yearns for familiar comforts.” Jessica escorted Donna back to the kitchen and into a chair where Donna placed her hands over her face and let out a moan.

 

 “I’m a terrible mother,” she said before bursting into tears.

 

Jessica saw the two boys enter and go to where Donna was sitting. Ian lifted her wrist and began to rub the inside of it gently. “Shhh Mum, tis all right,” he said softly. “Come have a lie about until dinner.”

 

Obediently Donna stood and followed him into the front room where he guided her to lie down on the sofa. In a heartbeat with him rubbing her wrist gently, she was asleep. Frank tugged a blanket over her and then the two boys left the room. Ian looked back at Donna for a moment before following Frank and Jessica into the kitchen to help Frank clean things up.

 

“Tears I understand…the shouting scares me the most. Back home, at the neighbors it was followed by beatings, and screams… and if the Met would come then there would be shootings sometimes through the walls. I didn’t know where to go to hide.”

 

Frank scooped the egg mess into Lucky’s bowl and called her over. In a few gulps and a whirl of her tail, the mess was gone.

 

“That wrist thing, where did you learn that?” asked Frank, curious. He saw a far away look in Ian’s eyes.

 

“Mam’s been ill with every one of the lot, and Grama Rosemary said Gram used to do it for her. I watched, and when Grama Rosemary was working an’ Mam was ill, I would do it and she would settle some. After the crying she did, she’ll nae want to eat eggs, or bacon, or things of that nature…”

 

Jessica came over to the boys. “I will make dinner… Frank, why don’t you take Ian outside and show him around? Dinner will be in about half an hour.”

 

Frank checked the clock on the kitchen wall then nodded to Jessica, and borrowing her cane for Ian, the two boys went out the back door. Ian looked at the rose garden and then buried his nose into one and looked up at Frank. “I read about a place like this, that all they grow is flowers … never thought I would live to see the day, though…” His fingers traced the soft petals of one and he breathed in the scent of the rose again.

 

Taking Ian by the hand Frank led him to the swing and helped him sit on it before sitting down on it himself. “I didn’t see much of Ireland, not as much as I guess my teachers would want me to write a report on, but from what I did see, you’re in for a bit of a shock while you’re here. We have things called ‘malls,’ that are as big as the village with all sorts of shops, and even the grocery stores can be huge. For the most part people here are nice, but there are some here who still follow Fordham and they don’t know any better. Sheriff Metzger is trying to get all of them, but there may be a few that are still hidden. When your leg gets better we can ride bikes about the town. That’s Willie and Taylor’s house, and over there are the Brayber’s. They are nice people. Tipper lives up that way on top of the hill. She has cats. Dr. Hazlitt lives over that way. People don’t drive much - they either walk, or do the bike.”

 

He saw Ian stand up and walk to the edge of Jessica’s property and look into the yard of Taylor’s. “You will be here for the rest of the summer? Will you be returning next summer?” asked Ian.

 

Letting out a careful breath Frank said softly, “I don’t know what’s going to happen to us. I’m not particularly chuffed about going to live with Grandma and Grandpa Mayberry. I want to stay here, but I understand Mum wants to be with her family. “

 

“An’ your da lets her get away with tha’? Back home, it was what the man of the house said, an’ the women listened.” Ian blinked a few times and then looked away.

 

“Was your dad like that?” asked Frank softly.

 

“My Da was a good man. He didn’t deserve to die like he did in the factory. Mum would have been there too - and even with Grandma Rosemary, we would have been sent to the Orphans’ Asylum. The girls would have a chance at being adopted, but, well, I’d be on my own.” Ian dragged a design with his foot in the dirt.

 

“It won’t ever come to that now Ian. You have a huge family now.”  

 

Frank saw the sadness in Ian’s eyes. “It already has happened, me being packed away and shipped here. Gram is 97, she’s nae going to be able to teach Pattie very long. Toot’s been remanded for the killings, though Inspector George says that’s just until the judge signs the papers to release him, an’ that could be ages. With the new babe on the way an’ Margarita, well, even at Mither’s there wasn’t enough room for me. Mum wanted a proper raising for me around a man, nae so many women. I keenly miss Pattie, though. Nae used to sleeping without someone else in the room, even if it is a little one.”

 

The porch door opened and Jessica’s voice came wafting over to them. “Dinner is ready, boys.”

 

It was later that evening that Donna looked in on them. Ian had nestled next to Frank who had his arm around the sleeping younger boy protectively. He looked up at his mother as she crossed the room and sat on his bedside.

 

“Frank, I am so sorry…”

 

“Mom, I love you, but I can’t deal with your problems and mine at the same time. I can’t even handle the thought of moving in with Grandma and Grandpa Mayberry - I want to hide in a corner and rock myself, or throw up, and I can’t breath. I want to scream and throw things. I need to heal inside, Mom. I can’t do that if every time I turn around I get hurt with you yelling at me for things beyond my control. I know you don’t mean what you say, or the anger that comes out. I think that it’s in best interest of our family and my best interest if I stayed here, for good. I ...“

 

He saw Donna shaking her head, and the look in her eyes. Reaching over he took her hand in his and covered it with his own. “Every day for the longest time, months, you’ve yelled at Dad, or me, or the landlord, and neither Dad nor I deserve it. ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t mean anything anymore because tomorrow you will yell, and the next day, and the next day. I can’t tell you what to do, Mom. You have to decide, but if all the doctors that you have seen can’t make you feel well enough to get through a day without causing the people who love you distress, then it’s time to see a different type of doctor, even if it’s one that you just talk with.“

 

Frank saw the tears well up in his mother’s eyes. “I’m scared, Mom. I love you,” he said, sitting up and wrapping his arms about her. “Gabe told me that there are times that we do what is best or what is right and it depends on what is the most important thing. I know its right for you to feel comfortable with the doctors that you know, maybe, though it would be best if you just spoke with Willie. The most important thing is the baby to be born alive, isn’t it?”

 

“Frank, please don’t make this any harder than it already is… you don’t understand,” she said softly.

 

“Help me understand, then,” he said urgently.

 

“The baby won’t be able to breath right, it will probably have many birth defects, and if it does survive, chances are that the baby will be mentally challenged… profoundly…”

 

“That wouldn’t change how we love her,” he said, taking his mother’s hand. “She could be just fine as well. Just think about it, okay?”

 

Donna sighed then nodded. Kissing Frank on the cheek, she pushed him back down on the bed and tucked the covers over him. “Goodnight, honey,” she said softly.

 

“’Night, Mom.  Mom?… I love you.” Frank watched his mother smile as she stood up and stood over the bed.

 

“I love you too, honey,” Donna said, then went out of the room and closed the door.

 

She found Jessica downstairs still up sitting in the parlor with twin cups of tea on the side board. She picked up the tea cup with trembling hands and regarded the dark hot liquid.

 

“Frank used to act up. Now he is soft spoken, and considerate, and responsible. He doesn’t want to come to my parents’ house. What changed him, Aunt Jessica? I used to be able to out think him… now I can’t do that. I feel as if I have lost my son in all of this. I’ve lived my whole life with traffic outside the door, and people who didn’t know you and a place where people are still up at ten pm and the sun comes up at a proper hour. He wants me to talk to Willie, and everyone keeps telling me to do that, and I know I have to be the one to make that decision, but …”

 

“What is your reservation about speaking with him, Donna?” inquired Jessica gently.

 

There was struggle on the young woman’s face. A single tear traced down it.

 

“Is it about the dreams that you had? When we were in Ireland?”

 

Jessica saw Donna close her eyes against the memory. There was pain, greater than Donna had ever had. She heard herself screaming - writhing, to escape it. There was a noise behind her- music that she didn’t understand. She felt hands reaching into her body, and looking up she saw Willie’s face as he lifted something up from her belly. He bent over and then lifted his head. There was blood on his mouth, blood all over him as she felt her world slip away.

 

The same dream had come to her every night even before she had met Willie, even before she had learned she was pregnant. The dream had come to her every night for months, and it was only afterwards that she had a name to put to the face. She had found him kind and gentle, but the memory of the recurring dreams had made her disinclined to consider the thought of seeing him as a doctor. Dreams that she couldn’t confide in anyone, only tell the people who had been awakened by her gasps from the nightmares that it was just a bad dream. Considering all that had happened, it wasn’t unexpected. There were others, too - other family members who had bad dreams when they were together at the bed and breakfast, but none would talk about them. Tipper’s had been the most pronounced, but given the fact she had survived two nightmarish moments it wasn’t surprising.

 

“Donna?” She felt Jessica take her hand in hers. “Are you all right?”

 

Donna opened her eyes and looked at Jessica. “I’m afraid of him, Aunt Jessica.”

 

“Afraid? How?” Jessica asked, perplexed.

 

Donna swallowed. Jessica could see the younger woman’s hands were trembling as she picked up the tea cup and took a sip then set the cup down on the saucer with a clatter. “He is kind, and sweet and charming, and my son adores him. He has a way about him that people listen to, a charisma that makes people follow him and accept him. A sort of magic… I had the same dream, before I met him. He was in the dreams that I have been having. I… I died in that dream by his hand, Aunt Jessica, and so did my baby… and now everyone is trying to convince me to go to him about the baby, and I can’t… I can’t.”

 

“Would it help if Seth was there?” inquired Jessica.

 

Donna shook her head then sniffed back tears. “No. Frank thinks that I should go see a psychiatrist. What should I do?”

 

For a moment Jessica regarded Donna in silence. “How do you feel about seeing a psychiatrist?” she asked.

 

Donna studied the pattern of the tea leaves inside the cup awhile before looking up at Jessica.

“I need to speak to Willie - about the baby, and my dreams, don’t I?“

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Althea Blair strode into Joshua Peabody Memorial Elementary School office briskly and set her briefcase down on the floor as the school secretary finished typing from the list of names the school counselor had provided and glanced up at the young woman.

 

“Hello, Ms. Blair, is it? “ The young woman nodded as the frumpy school secretary extended her hand to her. “Mr. Charles is still away; he was delayed in one of his interviews and is in Portland right now. He is picking up our new vice principal, Mr. Murphy, but he let me know you were arriving sometime today and asked me to fill you in on your duties. Have you found a place to stay? Oh, I’m Kristin, Mrs. Gibby to the kids of course." The older woman stood up and walked around the counter to where Ms. Blair stood and reaching down took the younger woman by the hand to lead her through the school.

 

“Enrollment is down this year, which is sad of course – it’s always nice to see little ones growing up over time. There are still five more weeks of summer left for the students, but it’s never enough time to write the lesson plans and prepare for next year. I know Mr. Charles said that you were going to teach 4th grade, but that may be changed to 5th grade if Jake, um, if Mr. Edger takes over the 6th grade, or they may split it - the budget is a bit tighter this year, and while in the past we had one teacher for each subject, the board has decided to have one teacher per grade this year. It cuts out four head teaching positions, though we still need someone to cover the science department two days a week. The state was pretty firm about that. While your little monsters are having their science lesson, you will be helping cover either lunch or recess for the students, depending on the schedule. Oh, here is your classroom. You should know, no contract with the town has been signed that has a budget that is going to work. The increase in the elderly population has decreased the amount of revenue that we can gather. It used to depend on how many children you had going to the school at one time. Even though you’re told to go out and buy whatever you need for the projects, there is no money to reimburse you. We’re lucky just to have enough paper for the first six weeks. The books are in the storage area, and your students will have lockers 400- 425. Ohhhhh, there he is… There’s Jake Edger!” She said softly to Althea, “Don’t let him break your heart, dear, he’s a horror with women to love.”

 

Althea looked in the direction that Gibby had indicated and felt her heart skip a beat. Jake Edger had peeked from his office by sliding his chair out the door and waved in their direction. Too tall for the chair, his lanky frame sprawled in it. His wavy dark hair was cut short, and his smoldering black eyes were intoxicating even from a distance.

 

Swallowing, Althea nodded. “I know the type.” She saw him unfold his frame and stride down the hall casually until he came to where the two of them were.

 

“Now, Mrs. Gibby, you’re not spreading rumors about me, are you?” he said in a deep mellow voice, flashing a perfect grin in her direction. He turned, regarding Althea. “Hello, Ms. Blair,” he said, extending his hand. “It has been a while.” Shyly Althea took the offered hand and shook it firmly.

 

“You know Mr. Edger?” asked Gibby, raising her eyebrows.

 

“Ms. Blair was one of my students several years ago. One of my top students, one of the three that was able to take my ‘Awful Awful Final’ and receive a perfect score… How is Al’s mother doing?” he asked politely.

 

Gibby didn’t miss the pause in Althea’s voice. “She went into remission. I will let her know you asked about her… she always liked you,” she said, then thought to herself, “When no one else would!”

 

He regarded Althea as she smiled at something Gibby said to her.

 

“Well, we will let you get back to your work, Mr. Edger. Now, Ms. Blair, down here we have the art department. If you want to put on any plays with your students, you will need to work with Cynthia Bohen. She has to account for every ounce of crayon that is used – a pity. Some of the students are quite talented, and there are lots of things they could be doing…so much… but we are stuck with the basics. I would hope to think that we enable the children to use their imaginations to their fullest potential,” she said with a sigh.

 

“Do you have any applicants in mind for the science teacher position, or will that be added to the curriculum that we will be teaching?”

 

The older woman sighed. “Well, our last vice principal was the science teacher as well as the physical education teacher, but his heart attack this spring sidelined him and we haven’t really been able to fill in with someone who can do everything. It was after that the school board voted to return to having each teacher teach everything - it didn’t leave as many holes. Hopefully the person our principal has in mind will accept the position.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Willie Mac exited the brightly lit room and closed the door behind him, shaking his head. He saw Taylor sitting on the uncomfortable studio couch reading a large colorful newspaper. She wore a smirk on her face that widened into a grin as he came towards her. Standing up, she stepped into his arms, giving him a hug.

 

“Well?” she asked, curious.

 

“Don’t know. Oddest way that I have ever had exams before. Thousands of questions and none of them specific. Three ways to end the exam: two an a half hours pass and the screen goes dark on ye, or if out of all of the questions ye answered enough to pass, or enough that you wouldn’t pass. Na a bloody leaf in sight to say, ‘Aye, tha’ would certainly put hair on his chest.’ But the most distracting part about the whole thing was knowing that just outside the door, you were waiting for me…” he said, his voice dropping softly as he pulled her close for a tender kiss.

 

Taking a breath they parted. She glanced at the clock on the wall. “You were only in there for half an hour. That rules out that you exceeded the time, leaving either you failed - and I can’t believe that you would - or that you passed your boards for the State of Maine.”

 

“It’s been awhile since I practiced medicine, Wife. Things have changed and a lot of it is different than what I would do. Prescribing bits in tea wasn’t on what they had as questions. I was thinking in reverse terms in there - I knew the plants, I knew the way to use them and the chemical, but in there they had the chemical, and then how to use them. It was agony. Pill photographs with numbers and manufactures, knowing the difference between colors to tell the dosage, an’ some of the new fangled treatment protocols - an even if I do pass this, it won’t make a bit of difference except the letters after my name that I could put on my checks.“

 

“In three months you could take it again, if you wanted to. You don’t have to, Husband.”

 

“Gram said as much. If I am to be a proper teacher for Ian, though, I ought to be able to have some practice for him with the real live persons,” he said ruefully.

 

Taylor placed her hand on his chest. “About that… You realize that people may view the apprenticeship as being a bit odd …”

 

He gave her a curious look. “Odd? Ohhhh. Well. Nae, we won’t be starting out with much more than learning the plants first - that takes well over two years before they even learn to take a pulse. Pattie may be present when her mother gives birth, but only since Gram will be the midwife.”

 

“And what will happen when our children are born? Will Ian be there?” Taylor asked, regarding him curiously.

 

“Wife, I’ve nae ever delivered triplets. Owing to the possibility of complications, would you be wanting to have the delivery in the hospital, with Seth helping, or somewhere else? If it’s at the hospital, nae, Ian would na be able to be present at the birth.”

 

“I don’t know. Let’s see how today goes, and the months ahead…” She saw the door open and a thin man peek out. She nodded to him, and was a bit surprised when he came out from the room and closed the door, approaching Willie.

 

“Might I have a moment of your time?” he asked, opening the door on the other side of the hall.

 

Willie and Taylor entered the room. There was a desk with a large chair behind it, and three in front. He closed the door behind them.

 

Willie turned to Taylor.  “This is Dr. Norris; he is in charge of the licensing testing. Dr. Norris, this is my wife, Taylor.”

 

Taylor saw Dr. Norris give her a once over, then nod. “How do you do?” she asked politely.

 

Dr. Norris nodded again then indicated they should sit down. “I’m going to be very direct here. I’ve questions for you, and while the board would feel a hearing may be in order, I would rather clear up anything before the results are posted. Quite frankly, you currently hold the fastest time for taking the exam in the State of Maine. Do you know what that implies?”

 

Willie raised an eyebrow. “That your testing system is lame-ass backwards. Ye canna know what’s wrong with someone from general terminology nor understand what really may be wrong with them without caring for the whole of the body. I’ve na been fond of the pills under the tongue or down the throat because they are bits of poison that may do more harm than good, but give me the plant and I can tell you how much would do better than what comes from a man who failed the hard work in medical school.”

 

Willie felt a tap on his arm from Taylor. “Yes, Wife?”

 

“It implies that you had the answers before you took the exam.”

 

“Well, of course I had the answers. Did ye think that I was lollygagging away the years awhile back? An’ if I didn’t know what I was doing then, I shouldn’t a been with a patient in the first place.”

 

Taylor placed her fingertips over Willie’s lips. “Husband, he needs to know how you know. How you learned.”

 

“Oh… My Gram is a healer. All my life I have been around the plants that go into the wee pills, an’ when I was of age I was sent off to formal learn - I knew, though, most of what they were trying to teach everyone, an’ so I spent time in research. I did work in hospitals as a doctor for several years until, well, until I went home and found there had been a great deal of trouble going on. I only applied to take the test today because my wife wished me to be able to practice in your fair state. The outcome doesn’t change how I live my life or what I would do with it. I’ve been told by a young friend of mine that if my name was …” He turned to Taylor – “What is that nonsense word Frank used, Wife?”

 

“Google,” Taylor said, trying to contain herself.

 

“Aye, that’s it. If you would use your computer you could Google my name and see some of the papers that I’ve written. Imagine my surprise to see that after all this time anyone can take a peek at the thoughts I worked out - all over the world an’ nae even be a doctor, though unless you were, or had quite a bit of understanding on the subject, it would be nonsense.“

 

Taylor saw Dr. Norris blink several times. “Is something wrong?” she asked at last.

 

Dr. Norris leaned forward and looked directly at Willie.  “Please explain to me why you took this exam?”

 

He saw Willie frown. “The same reason why everyone takes it: to be licensed to practice medicine in the State of Maine. I called and made an inquiry and was told the first testing date, and I sent my information in. Was there something that happened that is improper about all of this?”

 

“Am I to understand that you have already passed exams for the university that you attended?”

 

“Oh, aye. Top of my class. Top of ‘most all of them, come to think about it…” Willie said, puzzling over it.

 

“I see… Well, thank you for your time - you will be notified by mail of the decision within two weeks. Good day.” Dr. Norris stood and held the door open for them.

 

They heard voices coming down the hallway as they exited the room. Taylor saw Willie’s face change from puzzlement to recognition.

 

“Hullo, Mr. Murphy, what brings you to Portland? Wife, this is Mr. Carol Murphy. He’s the vice principal at Frank’s school. Mr. Murphy, my wife, Taylor…” Turning to the gray-haired, tall man beside Mr. Murphy Willie extended his hand to him. “I don’t believe we have had the pleasure of meeting, sir?”

 

The tall man took his offered hand and shook it warmly. “Gordon Charles, principal of Joshua Peabody Elementary School in Cabot Cove. The pleasure is all mine; I have heard so much about you. I’d heard you would be here and hoped that I might have a moment of your time - I have come to you today with a proposal. We faced the last term with the loss of our vice principal, Mr. Edwards, who was our phys ed teacher as well as the science teacher for the school. I’ve been able to convince Mr. Murphy, who I’ve known since college, to take on the position of the vice principal and phys ed teacher. He recommended you to perhaps take over the position of being the science teacher … from our understanding, your education was directed towards biology, which fits perfectly in our curriculum. It would only take two to three days a week and it would be a tremendous assistance for the community."

 

Taylor regarded Carol Murphy, who was positively beaming at the idea. She knew from the discussion that she had with Frank that Mr. Murphy was one of the few really good people who believed in the students.

 

“Mr. Charles, your offer is tremendously kind. I will have to discuss this at length with my wife and will let you know what has been decided. It was lovely to see you again, Mr. Murphy. Gentlemen, good day,” Willie said, inclining his head to the men. Placing his hand to the small of her back he escorted her out to the car. He opened the driver side door for her, waited until she got behind the wheel then got into the passenger side and buckled himself in. “I’ve got to bloody well learn how to drive on the wrong side of the road, don’t I?” he asked, frowning as she pulled into an open slot between the cars on the road and began the trip home.

 

“You could just walk, or ride a bike to the school if you decide to take the job, or take the bus with Ian. He will have to go to school here, you know.  Maybe when we are settled in, we can arrange to have him tested to see where he fits into the curriculum. I dare say he may be a few grades ahead… Did Gram say what she thought was going on?” Taylor inquired as Willie looked out over the engine of the car, trying to get used to the movement of the traffic.

 

“I was small for my age, too… but even Seth noticed how thin he is. Pattie said he gives the little ones most off of his plate, saying he wasn’t hungry. She’s heavier than he is, and a mite taller too. It’s like he stopped growing two years ago. Sara said that was the last time he had new shoes and they still fit, even his clothes are the same. He may need to snuggle up with us until he gets used to having a room by himself… though I don’t think Aunt Jessica would mind keeping him just one more night while we are on the box - we are, after all, still on our honeymoon…”

 

“Mmm, well, I will leave it to you to explain to Sydney why you’re in my bed.”

 

“Ah, that says a lot regarding your virtue, Wife,” he said, teasing her.

 

“Yes, it does, and you’d better be prepared, because she’s not used to being in a kennel and she may be a bit peeved that you were the reason why.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frank heard the car pull up to Taylor’s house first and happened to glance outside from the windows upstairs as he helped Jessica fold laundry.  “It’s Willie, and Taylor - she must be hurt, he is carrying her to the door…”

 

Jessica looked out the window and saw Taylor with her arms around Willie’s neck, kissing him as he opened the door then closed it. The blinds wobbled a bit as they dropped into place.

 

Frank looked back at Jessica, a bit perplexed. “Why wouldn’t they come over to get Ian?”

 

“They will, probably tomorrow. Willie has had a long day, and I expect Taylor is exhausted as well…”

 

Frank gave Jessica a look.  “Uh huh,” was all he said.

 

Jessica pulled the blind down to give them privacy then tossed a sock at Frank. “Come on, only two more baskets to go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Althea shook the sleep from her mind as she walked up the steps to the apartment that she was renting and gathered the mail that had been pushed through the slot of the door. She knew that Jake taught at that school, knew that in all of the years that she had worked as a teacher, trying to get his attention, that he was a rat when it came to the heart. Sorting through the mail she saw a letter from Al and opened it, dropping all of the other mail onto the table. Al was at the other end of the spectrum. Patent, kind, sweet, he was taking care of his mother, and she had told him she understood. She would wait. He wasn’t dashing, though, and he didn’t have a clue regarding the effects that a roguish grin had on the heart of a young girl. How even going for a simple cup of coffee could set one’s heart a-flutter.

 

Dear Thea,

I hope that this letter finds you well, and that everything is in order for your new job in Cabot Cove. Mother says hello. She is improving slightly since you last saw her, though there is little hope that the improvements will last long. She said I couldn’t possibly abandon her now when she needs me the most. She said you would understand…’

 

She sighed as she stuffed the letter back into the envelope without reading the rest. Althea did understand. There were some women who could use guilt to get what they wanted, and Al’s mother was one of them. Al had been a classmate of hers; both of them had Jake as a teacher at the same time, and it was only Al’s lumbering patience that had prevented Jake’s barbed remarks from upsetting the young man. Coffee had led to going to the movies, but all the dreams that followed were just that - dreams.

 

Glancing around, Althea noticed that half of her boxes still needed to be unpacked. She really was going to do that - sometime or another - it was just that she wasn’t sure until that very day if she could face up to Jake, or flee back home to her parents’ house and give up being a teacher.

 

Teaching had been her life’s dream. Teaching jobs were far more difficult to get: there were far more teachers exiting the universities than teaching positions. Once in a while the school would have retirements, or someone would move on to a different position. Small schools had very little money, but the dangled offer of housing within a mile of the school with utilities included was an incentive she couldn’t resist. She now could offer Al a place to move into - after, of course, his mother died. Althea wondered sometimes if she should worry that Al would perhaps fall in love with the nurse who cared for his mother, and if she should look around herself and find someone to spend the bleak winter hours with… There is always, Jake, she thought to herself, smirking. Even if he was twelve years her senior, the age difference wasn’t that noticeable.

 

Guilt worked both ways. Jake owed her more than he could ever pay back, in ways he couldn’t ever understand. His departure two years ago from the private school three states away had been unexpected to the staff and students who were reeling over the tragic death of two of their classmates when the raft they had been using overturned during the summer vacation. Jake had been grief-stricken and blamed himself for the accident. He had encouraged the girls to try something new, and being young, without fear, they did. Both had life jackets on, but the autopsy showed they had indeed drowned in the river. Why they didn’t have an experienced guide to take them down was unknown. Jake had leant them the equipment, and had instructed them who to contact before they went down.

 

Althea had seen the looks the girls had given him the day school let out, the hugs he had given them and the quick look in his eyes. She had seen that look before, and known the same hugs. The day she turned twenty-one was the day things changed. He became distant, polite, and was seen taking the two girls out for coffee when he had promised that he would take her out for her first big event - going to celebrate her being twenty-one at the local bar. He hadn’t shown, and after two hours of swirling her olives, she decided to walk home. She was in the mood for coffee - she needed something sweet. He never saw her, never looked up to see her standing stunned as his head bent over the table in low discussion with the girls. The accident happened two days later, or rather, their bodies were found two days later. Water deaths were a bit tricky when it came to determining the time someone had died. The caskets had been closed, and in his grief Jake had disappeared up north. Althea was able to follow where he ended up by the subscribing to the peer review circulars that listed job postings. She knew her job was far more important than the feelings lurking in her heart, and she would remain professional no matter what he did, or tried to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The slow chug of the lobster boats leaving the harbor at four am woke Taylor. Willie was sleeping peacefully, a slight smile upon his face. There were things to do - unpacking, laundry, go through the refrigerator, the mail and the arrival of Ian. Softly she kissed Willie’s lips then swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stretched.

 

Willie opened his sleepy eyes and glanced up as Taylor rose from the bed and walked out of the bedroom wrapped in her frumpy robe. Her footsteps took her down to the kitchen where he heard the sound of the refrigerator opening and the beep of the answering machine with a woman’s voice coming over the speakers. The voice was one that he didn’t recognize, but Taylor didn’t let the message get past “Hey Ra-" before skipping to the next one. Slipping on his own robe, he walked down the steps and heard the answering machine confirm that she wanted to delete. She was sitting in front of the fridge with the door open and the trash basket to one side. A few moldy carrots were tossed up on the counter “Science experiment?” she asked, curious.

 

He shook his head.  “Who was that on the answering machine?” he asked, picking up the milk carton to give it a shake. The lumps moved inside of it. “Ooohhh, cottage cheese!” he said before dumping it down the sink, followed by water to rinse down the smell.

 

“Just Jordan.”

 

“Ah… so, you knew what she was going to say without listening to what the message was?”

 

“Yes. Every time she comes around there is trouble, and it winds up being very expensive, both financially and emotionally for me. It only suits her, and the rest of the time, I don‘t exist. From the time stamp on the calls they began right after the story broke regarding the discovery of the treasure.”

 

“It might be something else! It sounded as if she called you a dozen times and you don’t even see what she has to say.”

 

“Three dozen times. I got tired of being invisible. I became tired of having what I did, what I look like, how I dress, criticized as not being good enough. I could never fall in love with the right person, and nothing I did was good enough. If I said anything regarding her behavior I would be curtly informed not to step on her toes. Jordan could hiccup and everyone would rush her off to the hospital. I worked until I dropped, and it was three weeks in the hospital before she noticed that I hadn’t sent her a birthday card. She came into the hospital and began to yell at me because I ruined her perfect birthday. Not to mention that she had forgotten mine for the last eight years… Don‘t be surprised if she shows up, and when she does, you will be invisible too unless there is something that she wants from you. She is mean-spirited, selfish and self-gratifying, and if people don‘t stroke her ego there is hell to pay. Just promise me you won‘t let her into this house.”

 

Willie noticed the small beads of sweat that were forming on Taylor’s brow. He slid her chair back and closed the refrigerator door. “That can wait for later, Wife,” he said gently, taking her hand in his and escorting her to the sofa where he made her recline. “I’ll make a nice cuppa for breakfast, and then we can have a snuggle or two…” he murmured, brushing a stray wisp of her ash blond hair from her cheek.

 

There was a knock at the back door. “I’ll get it,” he said, kissing her lips gently. Striding to the back door he pulled the blinds up and saw Tipper standing on the back porch with Sydney in her arms. He opened the door. “Tipper, come in. Would you care to join us in a cuppa? This is a bit unexpected - wasn’t the kennel arrangements for another two days? Is something wrong?”

 

Tipper entered in the kitchen and placed Sydney on the floor. “Sorry for the early hour - I got a call from the kennel at three this morning. There was a raid on a puppy mill upstate and they are moving the dogs and puppies to the kennel for quarantine, so I thought it best that Syd not be exposed to what they may be bringing in. How did your state boards go?”

 

“Well, I think there is just one more that I have to get through, and then I may well hang up a shingle…though I was approached yesterday by Mr. Charles to be the new science teacher at the elementary school. That would mean more testing, though, and some other paperwork, I am sure."

 

Tipper nodded. “They tend to test you on everything you might possibly have to teach.” There was a faint whirring from her pager on her hip. “Uh, gotta go. I’ll take you up on the cuppa later. Welcome back!” she said brightly before heading out the back door.

 

Willie closed the door and put two mugs in the microwave. It wasn’t the most proper of ways to make tea, but it would do. While the unit counted down, he leaned on the counter and began to sort the mail. It went into two piles, bills in one, circulars in the other. Tossing the circulars in the trash he was about to dump the carrots in the bin on top when he saw the corner of an envelope that had missed his sorting. Curious, he plucked it out and flipped it over to see what it was. In neat script he saw just Taylor’s name and address, and a post mark from Maryland. He opened up the envelope and unfolded the single sheet of paper. It took a second for him to glance at the bottom to see who it was from, then another moment to read the contents of the letter. The beep of the microwave jerked him back from his musings.

 

Folding the letter he pushed it back into the envelope and left it on the counter. Being very careful he dropped two infusers with tea into the cups and dunked them a few time as what he had read worked through his mind. When the tea was done he carried it to where she lay and placed it on the coffee table. She sat up so that he could sit in the corner of the sofa and then laid her head on his chest. His arm went around her waist and his hand rested upon her belly.

 

“Wife?” he asked softly.

 

“Yes, Husband?”

 

“Were you concerned that if you told me about Jordan, I would have invited her to the wedding?”

 

Taylor drew in a long breath then let it out slowly. “I didn’t know, years ago, that what I was feeling in my chest was my body warning me - that my heart couldn’t take what she was saying and what she was doing. I used work to escape - she knew she couldn’t call there - and she would call at the wee hours of the morning to berate me about things. A photo ran of Anthony escorting me to an awards ceremony and two days later at four am she is telling me that the only reason why he was dating me was out of pity, how old I looked in the photo, how I had let myself go, and how desperate I had to be to think that someone like him would actually like me… I went to the courthouse to speak with him that day about his feelings, and I saw him leaning against the wall speaking to the other District Attorney - she’s quite lovely - and he had a smile on his face… and my heart believed what she said, and it broke. The next thing I knew I was in County General Hospital and it was three days later and Gabe is there telling me that he was my new adjunct… After her visit I had a second attack, and I made up my mind that any more contact with her wasn’t a good idea.” Taylor reached over and snagged a sip of tea, then placed it on the coffee table.

 

“So, if she decided to come to Cabot Cove for an extended vacation, how would you handle it?”

 

Taylor looked at him, curious. “Ah, well, the Hill House has vacancies. What makes you think she is coming here?”

 

It was Willie’s turn to take a breath and let it out slowly. “In the mail was a letter, just addressed to you, and I didn’t know if it was a bill, or ad, so I opened it … an’ she is coming with her son and a few others. She said they would be arriving sometime today.  I’m na doubting ye, wife, I just don’t know how the two of ye could have come from the same womb and be so different. Ye could have told me about her, and that you didn’t want her there before we were married, and I would understand…”

 

She rolled on the sofa so that she faced him. “I am afraid for our children… I am afraid what may happen if she tries to get her way and I have to get the brunt of it…I can’t deal with her any more…”

 

“Shhh, Wife… You won’t have to. I‘ll take care of things.” He saw tears beginning to form in Taylor’s eyes.

 

“I don’t want you to get hurt by her…”

 

“Dearest Wife, there’s na much that she could say to me or about me that hasn’t already been said. In all the world, though, there was only one who looked past what others saw first, directly to my heart…The most fairest sight my eyes had seen, and that my life took new meaning for.“ He kissed her gently. “I think today, Wife, you will have a fair bit of resting to do while I play man of the house and wear an apron to do the cooking… if that’s alright with you? Then tonight, you may have your way with me…”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jessica heard the familiar thump-bump of Ian coming down the steps in a hurry as he dragged his small duffle behind him and took it to the door. He was washed and dressed and, she could tell, eager to go over to Taylor’s house.

 

“Whoa, slow down! It’s just five - they may not even be up yet! And you haven’t had a proper breakfast!” said Donna from the corner of the kitchen.

 

Ian turned and saw what she was eating, saw the pot on the stove, and shook his head. “Thank ye, no, I ... I’m na all that hungry this morning.”

 

Frank came up behind him rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Don’t be daft. Lunch is a long way away, and you don’t have to have oatmeal. We have other things to eat, all sorts of cereals and toasts…”

 

Ian shook his head again. “Wouldn’t be right to take more from ye,” he said softly. “Nae while there is good food tha’ ye made.”

 

Frank guided Ian to a chair and helped him get comfortable. “Let’s have a cup of tea,” he said, getting the kettle and placing water in it.

 

Donna was about to say that tea wasn’t proper for young boys to have at all, but then she saw Ian nod, and give a sigh. She looked at Jessica, who was studying the interaction between Ian and Frank with concern. Turning, Jessica opened the bread box and withdrew a loaf from within then pulled the toaster from the corner and popped two slices in. While they cooked, she retrieved butter and orange juice. She poured two glasses of the juice and slid it in front of the boys. Leaning over she said softly to them, “Donna can’t abide orange juice. I thought she would like it. Could you help me finish up the carton?”

 

Ian nodded, his nose twitching at the smell that wafted from the toaster. “What is that, Aunt Jessica?” he asked, curious.

 

“It’s cinnamon bread. It goes very well with tea and juice.”

 

His nose twitched again.  “Does it now?” He watched fascinated as the toast popped upward. Jessica carefully lifted the hot bread out of the toaster and spread fluffy butter over each slice then cut them into fourths before placing the plate in front of the boys. She put two more slices in the toaster and depressed the button.

 

Donna watched as Frank placed two of the squares for starters before Ian. Ian studied the bread, then with his fingers tore off a small bit of the bread and placed it in his mouth. He chewed it for a while before taking another bit off the edge. His eyes widened as Jessica slid the next two slices on the plate besides the first ones.

 

“Oh, ye shouldn’t be going to such fuss, Aunt Jessica. This is a plenty,” he said, pointing to the half he was working on.

 

“Well, Mum’s gone for thirds on the oatmeal, and Aunt Jessica’s had her breakfast, and I can’t finish all of that, so you will just have to help eat it,” said Frank, trying to keep his voice steady. Ian glanced at the sound of a slurp coming from the corner. Frank and Jessica followed his gaze and were surprised to see Donna lowering her bowl from her lips. There were patches of oatmeal on her face and a milk mustache.

 

“Would ye care for some cinnamon toast, Aunt Donna?” Ian asked as his hand went to the plate to offer it to her.

 

Donna gave a shudder. “Noo, noo, noo," she said, waving her free hand. “No thank you. I was never one for cinnamon.”

 

Frank turned back to Ian. “Close your eyes and open your mouth.” Puzzled, Ian did as he was told. Frank lifted the piece of cinnamon bread and placed it in Ian’s mouth upside down. “Bite down now…” said Frank. He saw Ian’s eye brows go up in surprise as he began to chew with increased interest.

 

“Oh, that’s lovely,” he said after swallowing. He took a sip of tea then blinked. “You’re right, Aunt Jessica, it does go well with the tea.” Glancing down Ian saw Frank had slipped the lion’s share of the toast onto Ian’s plate.

 

“I’ve eaten my share, that’s yours,” Frank said, holding up another corner upside down for Ian to eat.

 

In short order the breakfast was finished and the dishes cleared away from the table. Frank saw Lucky lift her head as Sydney moved through Taylor’s garden. “Ah, Sydney’s out, they must be up…”

 

Ian stood up and went to Jessica. “Thank you, I had a lovely time.” Nodding to the others, he gathered his duffle and went out the back door over to Taylor’s house. Frank watched from the door as Willie opened the door for him and issued him into the home.

 

Frank closed the door. For a moment he just stood not moving. When he turned Jessica and Donna saw tears in Frank’s eyes. “He is going to die if he doesn’t start eating more, isn’t he?”

 

Jessica sat down on one of the kitchen chairs. “We don’t know. Willie and Seth are going to do everything they can for him.”

 

“Then with Ian coming here, it isn’t to learn about being a healer, is it?” Frank asked, needing to know.

 

“Oh, yes, Willie will be teaching him everything he can… He is in very good hands, Frank, and I am sure that things will work out,” said Jessica, brushing the tears from Frank’s eyes. “In the meantime, perhaps you could get changed, and take your mother for a walk down to see how much the docks have changed since she was last here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jake Eliot strode past the small tourist shops down to Ye Ole Tyme Mini Mart. Fishing several quarters out of his pocket he approached the pay phones and lifted the receiver. Leaning against the building he turned to watch the people as they strolled along the sidewalks. He heard people calling hello to someone and shifted his interest in that direction. Now there is a dish worth dipping into…” he mused, watching Tipper enter into the mini mart.

 

A short, curly haired young man who was oddly dressed nodded as he stepped into the sweet shop that was next door to the mini mart. A younger boy that Jake didn’t recognize was helping a ditzy blond past the ice cream shop, scolding her for something - she had chocolate on her face and he was trying to get her to wipe it off as she slurped ice cream from the bottom of her cone.

 

His eyes panned the crowd and found his mark. Althea was a creature of habit. In the two days that she had been in Cabot Cove it had been simple to follow her morning routine. Early rise, coffee, and then a brisk walk. She was right on time. Glancing at his watch he knew that things were about to become interesting. He hung up the phone and followed Althea a few paces behind her. He knew she would take the short cut across the lower harbor. He was counting on it and ignored the babble of voices behind him.

 

Feigning surprise he calle