Note: Chapter five is actually two chapters in one. I know I said I would only lightly edit, but boy…. Basically I hit one of the reasons I shelved this novel. The two chapters were long and chock full of description that didn’t advance the plot one single bit. It was boring. Like, seriously boring. So I cut them down to one. It’s probably why this romance was 136,000 words. Which, if you’re not a writer or a reader of the genre you may not know it’s bat-poop crazy. In the end, the chapter now does what it needed to, it gets Kennedy to Coventry, introduces Kate, and hints at some new characters while firming up the setting. It’s not necessarily better. If I was writing this from scratch, it’d do it entirely different, but this is an improvement and hopefully makes it more readable.

And speaking of the setting, that’s another reason this is a bit of a muddle. Coventry is fictional, Cape Ann is not. I live here and wanted to set a novel here, but I didn’t want to be tied down by real borders, roads and scenery. I wanted to lift the small New England villages of my youth and stick an amalgamation of them next to the city of Gloucester which is very real and is dear to my heart. For local Massachusetts folks who are wondering “Where the heck is Coventry?” it’s in my head. This is fiction kid, relax.

Kennedy sat in the passenger seat of Auntie Beth’s ancient Volvo station wagon with most of her worldly goods in the back and her favorite chair strapped to the top. She looked out the window as they drove north from Boston, watching as the view changed from city streets to trees and rocks. About forty minutes into the drive Beth turned off the highway onto a road that was lined with houses and more trees. Before long they were going over a bridge with a river below, marsh grass on either side.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Beth nodded to the view.

Kennedy looked out at the afternoon sun glinting on the water, the houses nestled on the far shore, and a boat motoring by. It could have been a postcard. She wondered if the rest of Cape Ann was this quaint.

  “We’re surrounded by marshes and rivers. Some of these little roads flood with shocking regularity.”

“Does your house flood?”

“Never. We’re on a hill for starters, and a mile inland. You’ll see when we get a bit closer. We’re in the center of town. It’s more woodsy than anything else. If you want the seaside experience, you need to go to Gloucester. They have beautiful beaches and a working harbor. Or Rockport with its shops and restaurants. To me, it’s a bit too touristy. But, while you’re here you’ll have to do some exploring in town. There’s miles of marshes and a walking path that circles the town. There are historical landmarks as well. The Coventry Preservation Society has a great library of maps and tour books. I’ll have to get a few for you.”

Kennedy wasn’t sure she was down to tour old houses, but the marshes sounded interesting.

“You’ll find us a bit more gentrified than the last time you were here.”

Kennedy laughed a little at this. The last time she was here she was eight.

“We now have a coffee shop called something ridiculous – Bean There I think, a bakery and deli that our friend William owns; you’ll meet him on Sunday.”

Kennedy looked out the window. They were driving through what was probably ‘downtown’ Coventry. They passed the town green, a large lawn with a bandstand at one end. It was ringed by colonial houses on one side and the town hall, church, bank and police station on the other. It could have been printed right off a Norman Rockwell painting.

Beth slowed the car down just past a large white church and Kennedy saw a turn she thought she recognized. A squat little mailbox perched at the edge of the sidewalk painted with morning glories around block text that read ‘Parker House’. The mailbox was like a faint bell ringing far away, a memory buried at the back of her head slowly surfacing.

The driveway was long and twisted through a thicket of trees effectively hiding the house from the road. If not for the mailbox you wouldn’t think anyone lived back here. As the driveway ended, the house appeared almost as a surprise. There was a little barn off to the left, but Beth pulled the car as close as possible to the house. “We’ll park here to unload.”

Kennedy looked up and the place was exactly as she remembered it, if maybe in need of painting. The traditional Colonial was white with an imposing black front door and a glass enclosure off the end facing south. It had the stately feel of an antique, but it looked lived-in, like it was meant to be that way. The path from the driveway led up to the front entry, but Beth headed to a smaller door off the side. It had a tiny porch over it presumably to keep the rain off.

Before they could open the door, it was flung wide and Auntie Kate appeared in a blue, cotton dress with a cherry print apron over it, the edges covered with ruffles. Her white-blond hair was pulled back into a braid that she had wrapped around like a headband. She rushed forward and pulled Kennedy into a hug. A puff of light perfume, something gently floral surrounded them before her aunt stood back, holding her at arms-length and smiling wide.

“I am so glad you’ve come.” Her cheeks were flushed, her blue eyes bright and despite her age, she had a kind of girlishness about her. Taking Kennedy’s hand, she led her inside. They passed through a little entryway and into the kitchen.

Kennedy stood for a moment and inhaled what seemed like a memory. The house smelled of old wood, linen, and something else she couldn’t name, but it reminded her powerfully of summer. Maybe it was her memory waking up, but the house felt friendly. She might not remember it, but it seemed safe and welcoming.

She turned down the Aunties offer of help unpacking and brought what she’d need right away into the house. The rest could stay in the car until they’d decided where to keep it.

“First things first.” Beth held a finger up. “Bedrooms. We have three available, two on the second floor and the attic room. Let’s start the tour.” Beth led her upstairs to the second floor. The first room on the right was the yellow room she was pretty sure she stayed in as a girl. A white, iron bed stood against a wall, with a daisy chain of sorts made of faucet knobs painted like flowers and strung together with wire hanging over the bed.

Beth was an artist well-known for her watercolors in her youth, but she’d switched to what she called found-object art years ago. Her mother had called it ‘creative trash’ although not in Beth’s hearing. The daisies must have been one of her pieces.

“Um. I don’t love yellow.” Kennedy offered and they moved on to room two.

This room was painted blue and overlooked the drive. It had a strange bureau standing in the corner. It was huge, floor to ceiling high and painted a 1980s shade of puce. Kennedy just shook her head on this one. The last two rooms on this level were Kate and Beth’s so they climbed the stairs to the attic. This had been off-limits when Kennedy was little.

Beth opened the door at the top of the stairs and Kennedy stepped into the room. In one look, she knew it was the one she wanted. It was big and the ceiling was higher than she would have thought for an attic. The walls and ceiling had been sheet rocked and painted white. The floors had been left wood but sanded down and finished. There were two windows; one octagonal on the side of the house that faced front and a large arched one on the opposite wall overlooking the lawn at the back of the house.

That window was nice, but it was the bed that sold the room. It stood at the center of the space on a round braided rug. It had four posts that looked like huge branches, their tops intertwined together at the peak to form a canopy. “That is the most amazing bed I have ever seen.”

“This is one of my favorite pieces.” Beth laid a hand against one of the posts. “It wouldn’t fit in any of the lower bedrooms, it’s too tall. So, it ended up here.”

“Auntie Beth, it’s stunning.” Kennedy sat on the mattress and bounced.

“I couldn’t fit a traditional mattress to it.” Beth explained. “So I used the springs out of a camp bed to make a foundation and topped it with the mattress.”

Kennedy stroked the coverlet. “It’s super soft though.”

“The secret is the feather bed. I picked up in Switzerland. It’s divine. Seeing your face I going to assume this is the one?”

Kennedy nodded.

“Let’s get your things.” Beth’s smile dimmed a little as she headed to the stairs. “Maybe we can leave some of your books downstairs in the library?”

Kennedy chuckled. “No worries, Auntie, I’ll haul it all up on my own.” She brought up her boxes and left them on the floor in front of the large wardrobe opposite the bed. The attic room was not the full length of the house, there were storage areas on either side, but it was still an incredibly large bedroom by her standards. Looking out the large arched window she marveled at the size of it. The sill was at her knees and the top reached over her head. The window faced full West over the backyard. She could see the garden below and a long lawn running downhill to a small pond with woods beyond.

After appreciating her new view, she looked around the space trying to figure out what would go where. Her modest possessions wouldn’t take up a lot of space. Obviously, she was going to park her chair by that window. To the left was a squat little bookcase so she grabbed the boxes and piled them up next to it. It would take some time to put them away in an order that made sense.

The wardrobe painted sky blue with fanciful clouds all over it; probably another work by Auntie Beth. It was a very basic wardrobe with three drawers and a rod for everything else, but it was big enough and her clothes sparse enough that they’d all fit.

Little by little she began to spread out her things, which produced a kind of gentle pleasure. This place was totally new and all hers; every inch of it. Something about that was luxurious and kind of sinful. She now had a bedroom that was larger than some of the apartments she’d lived in. Finishing up, she began to feel something a lot less pleasant. It was a familiar twinge, a jolt of sadness and a rush of guilt.

How can you be happy when your mother is dead?

Feeling like a failure, she left the rest of unpacking for another day and went to find the Aunties. Downstairs Beth and Kate were at the little table in the kitchen with fruit, cheese, crackers, jam and bread laid out. Kate was at the stove sauteing something in a pan that definitely involved garlic. It smelled heavenly. Suddenly she was starving.

“Hungry?” Beth used her foot to push a chair out for Kennedy.

“Starved. Are we having Girl Dinner?”

Kate frowned. “What is that?”

“Basically a collection of snacks that you call dinner. It’s considered a girl thing.”

“Oh, I like that. Girl Dinner.” She slid what looked like pirogi and caramelized onions on a plate and added them to the table.

As they ate, the Aunties listed all the local museums, libraries, and shops they thought she’d be interested in. Beth suggested she drive to Gloucester to sun herself on Wingaersheek Beach, but she’d have to pay to park.

“Uh, I don’t think I’m going to have to worry about the parking – I can’t drive.”

Beth looked up, frowned and then nodded. “Of course. You’re a city girl.”

“She could always use one of the bikes to get around town.” Kate suggested. “Coventry is small enough to bike right through and we can always drop you off for the day in any of the nearby towns.”

“That sounds great. I do know how to ride a bike. I think I’m going to spend a few days getting to know the area and then I have to get a job. I can’t just mooch off you.”

Beth set her fork down and gave Kennedy one of her piercing stares. “You are not taking advantage here. We are happy to have you for as long as you want to stay. Don’t feel guilty for taking the time off that you truly need.” She paused. “We always meant for your mother to come to us at some point. We would have loved to have you both for however long you wanted.”

The warm feeling Beth’s words created was chased with the cold reality that her mom would never return, she’d never be here. Kennedy would never have her mom show her the best beaches or show her the places she hung out as a teenager. Any stories she had or memories she might have shared died with her.  

“You’re thinking of her now?” Beth asked.

Kennedy nodded, her eyes on the table in front of her. She didn’t trust herself to respond in words. She hated crying. And as nice as the Aunties were, she didn’t want to break down in front of them. It didn’t feel safe.

“One of the most distressing things about grief is how it sneaks up into the most banal of moments and hits you, full force.” Beth reached out and patted Kennedy’s arm. “I hope you have some happy moments here, but don’t feel like you must act happy for us. We know what you are going through.”

The phone rang and Beth left the room. Kennedy appreciated the break. It gave her a chance to pull her act together. “Kate, these pirogi are awesome.” She stabbed one with her fork.

“It’s the onions. If you give them time to caramelize, get all nice and jammy, the combination is heavenly.”

“How serious were you about getting a job?” Beth had leaned her head back into the room, holding a phone on an actual cord.

“Pretty serious. Why?”

Beth leaned back out again, and she could hear her talking to someone on the phone.

A minute later she returned. “That was Beatrice Hughes. She’s looking to hire someone with museum or library experience for a project at her home. It’s the Georgian Brick house at the head of the green. Mrs. Hughes called me since I’m on the preservation committee, to see if I knew anyone suitable. I let her know I knew someone with both time on her hands and the credentials needed.” She raised her brows at Kennedy.

“Oh,” A burst of panic flooded her senses. “But I didn’t finish my degree.”

Beth waved a hand as if that fact was nothing. “You don’t need a Masters to help with this. She was keen to get a college student anyway.”

“But, I’m not a student. I dropped out.” It’s not that she didn’t want a job. But, she was thinking of retail, maybe a receptionist. The failure of dropping out still clung to her. She wasn’t sure what she was up for anymore. The ambitions she’d had were all gone now.

“Work with me here, child. You are technically still a student. You didn’t drop out so much as take a sabbatical which under the circumstances, is perfectly reasonable. When you have gaps in the resume, you need be creative in your thinking.”

“You mean lie.” Kennedy rolled her eyes. Beth was too much.

“Letting people think the best of you isn’t lying.”

Kate snorked out a laugh and tried to hide it as a cough.

“Anyway, she’d like you to email her your resume and set up an interview. It’s part-time so not a large commitment.”

“I don’t know…”

“Just sending a resume isn’t committing to anything.”

This was true. And she really did need a job. It wouldn’t hurt to at least get the details. “Okay. I can put something together and send it to her.” At least that seemed to satisfy Beth. She sat back at the table with a prim smile on her face. Beth liked to win.

In one day Kennedy’s life had utterly changed; a new house, new people and now maybe, a new job. It was a lot of change in an incredibly short amount of time. After months of inertia, sitting on the couch, watching the world go by, it was dizzying to be actually doing something again. She hoped it would start to feel normal. Right now, it her life was a Tilt-a-Whirl.

Image Credit: Marcelo Novais via Unsplash.

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