Find Wonder in All Things

chapter 16

Laurel decided to take her brothers and her sister Spring with her to the annual Woodland Arts Festival. Dylan always enjoyed the woodworking booths, Spring loved the jewelry, and of course Crosby loved to talk to anybody and everybody about the beautiful and competitively-priced building lots down by the lake that just happened to be listed by his real estate company.

All kinds of vendors attended the festival, great local food was available, and it brought together many local artists. Since it was only about an hour’s drive from home, Laurel brought a few crates of her pottery, as well as a few of the brochures Crosby had designed for her. She hoped that attending this year would have the added bonus of taking her mind off James Marshall.

But it was not to be. Laurel had no sooner set up her booth and sent Spring off to get a couple of sodas, when she turned to find a woman standing at the next booth looking at her name with interest. While her companion, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a crew cut, talked to the wood-burning artist next door, the woman approached her.

“Good morning,” Laurel began, smiling.

“Good morning. Your work is beautiful.”

“Thank you. Is there something in particular I can show you?”

“Something for my brother, I think.” She chuckled. “He’s just moved into a new house down the road from us. It’s a temporary arrangement, and I’m trying to get him to stick around permanently. Do you think a house-warming present for a single man is a bad idea?”

“Hmm,” Laurel replied. “Let’s see. A bachelor might use a big bowl — you know, for chips or pretzels or something. You could get a smaller bowl to hold dip. It would be sort of a set.”

“That’s a marvelous idea.”

“I think I might have something back here.” She stepped around the table and looked through a couple of crates. “Ah, here it is. And there’s a small one just like it on the shelf there.”

The woman took the bowl and turned it in her hands. “Yes, it’s lovely and good quality too. Just like the potter.” The woman’s eyes twinkled in her tanned face. “You’re Laurel, aren’t you?”

“I am. I’m sorry, but have we met?”

The woman’s face broke into a wide smile. “Not exactly, but I do feel as if I know you from your sister Virginia’s description and — ” She held out her hand. “I’m Susan. Susan Murtowski. My husband and I met your sister when we were buying our house on the lake. Of course, I’ve known her husband, Stuart, for years — since we were kids really. He’s my little brother’s oldest friend.”

Laurel’s eyes flew open wide. “You’re Susan Marshall,” she stammered, “I mean Murtowski, of course. Yes, Ginny told me about meeting you, and James said — ” She broke off, her stomach dropping. “He said you were living in the area now.”

So, this was James’s beloved sister. Now that she looked more closely, Laurel could see a family resemblance in the green eyes and the engaging smile. She took a deep breath and shook Susan’s hand. “It’s good to meet you.”

Susan’s laugh had a musical lilt to it. “Right back at you. I’ve been waiting quite a while to make your acquaintance, although to tell the truth, we actually have met before.”

Laurel tilted her head and smiled, confused. “We have?” She didn’t remember Susan ever coming to the Pendletons’ boat when they were growing up.

“Gary and I came to an art show where you were displaying your pottery last year in Tennessee.”

“Really?”

Susan nodded. “I didn’t make the connection then. I — ” She stopped again. “Well, I finally put it all together when Ginny and I were talking.”

“I wish I remembered meeting you. The Tennessee show was a madhouse.”

“There were at least a couple of thousand people there that day. I’m not surprised you don’t.”

“Well then, I guess it’s good to meet you again.”

“I bought one of your vases at that fair, and I just love it. Not only is your work beautiful, it’s durable too. You know, Midwestern girls like me appreciate that. We have that practical streak.”

Laurel blushed at the compliment. “You’re very kind.”

“Do you have any new designs this year? I might just need to get something for myself as well.”

“Oh, of course.” Laurel indicated her display, stepping back and gesturing with her hand. “Look all you like, and let me know if you have any questions.”

After a few minutes, Laurel ventured cautiously, “So, how do you like the lake area? Are you settling in?”

Susan looked her directly in the eye the way James used to. “We absolutely love it. After Gary retired from the Navy, we wanted a place to put down some roots. Kentucky is close to my parents” — She leaned over and whispered in a knowing tone — “but not too close if you know what I mean.”

So she was blunt like James too. Laurel smiled. “I think I might.”

“And Gary doesn’t have any family still living, so anywhere quiet was fine with him. Now, if only we could get my brother somewhere on this side of the country, I’d be happy as a clam.”

Susan turned and called to the man who was with her. “Gary! Come meet Ginny Pendleton’s sister.”

A man who was maybe ten years older than Susan strode up to the booth. He was rugged in appearance, not especially handsome, but he had a smile that was warm and friendly. His graying hair was cropped close to his head, apparently a holdover from his years in the military, and his sky-blue eyes were striking in his weathered face. He held out his hand and gave Laurel a hearty handshake.

“Hello!” he boomed. “Gary Murtowski.”

“Laurel Elliot.”

“Ah yes, the famous Laurel Elliot. Your sister sings your praises, and my wife loves your work.”

“Thank you.”

“You from around here?”

“No, Gary,” Susan cut in, “Remember? She lives in our neck of the woods in a cabin above Uppercross Hollow.”

“That’s right, that’s right. You’re a neighbor. I have to say, I really like the neighbors around our new place. Nice people.” He winked at her. “Present company, included. My brother-in-law, James, said he knew you, but he neglected to say how pretty you are.”

“Gary, you’re an awful flirt! You’re embarrassing her.”

“Aw, surely not,” he insisted.

Laurel laughed through her blushes. “Don’t be too hard on him, Susan. It’s not hard to make me self-conscious — really no challenge at all.”

Spring returned then, handing Laurel her soda and her change. The Murtowskis introduced themselves and began a conversation with Spring about her college plans. Normally, Spring was tight-lipped with adults, but Susan and Gary’s engaging personalities made it easy to speak with them, regardless of the age gap.

Susan turned to her husband. “Best drag out your wallet and pay for my purchases, Gary. I’m sure Laurel has other buyers that need her attention.” She nodded toward a clique that was making its way up the row.

“Oh, no please,” Laurel replied. “Consider them a welcome gift.”

“Nonsense,” said Gary. “We insist. We remember the struggling artist scenario. James lived it for a couple of years, didn’t he, my dear?”

Susan nodded. “I worried about him constantly. Still do, but that’s what big sisters are for. You know how that goes, being a big sister yourself.”

Laurel put her arm around Spring’s shoulders. “Yes, I can relate.” She turned to her money box. “Here, let me get you a receipt.”

As she wrote out the slip, Susan invited her to have lunch one day next week. They set a date, and in a whirl, the Murtowskis were gone.

Laurel sat down with a thud, her face flushed and her heart beating rapidly.

“You okay?” Spring asked.

“Just hot.” Laurel reached over, grabbed her soda off the table, and took several swigs.

After that, the sisters sat under the tent, fanning themselves with programs and listening to the murmur of conversations as people strolled by. Laurel answered questions from a group of women who stopped to look and, therefore, was completely unaware that she was being watched. Spring nudged her and surreptitiously pointed to a man standing a couple of booths down, looking intently at the two of them.

“Who is that, Sis?”

“I’m not sure.” Laurel squinted. “Hmm, I know the face, but I can’t quite place him. He’s too old to be a classmate. Maybe he docks at the marina? Or used to?”

“Oh, shit, he’s coming over here.”

“I wish you wouldn’t use that kind of language. It isn’t becoming in a girl your age.”

Spring rolled her eyes. “Whatever . . . Oh, darn, here he comes.’”

Laurel pursed her lips in maternal disapproval, but she was stopped from any further comment by the man’s approach.

“Laurel Elliot. I can’t believe it; it is you.” His face broke into a dazzling smile, and he held out his hand. “I’m Cooper Edwards, a friend of your father’s from his university days, but I also teach history at Benton College.”

“I thought I recognized you! How are you, Dr. Edwards?”

“Cooper, please. No need to be so formal.” He clasped her hand in both of his. “I’m fine, just fine. And you’re doing well, I see.”

“Yes.”

“How’s your father?”

“He’s good — still at the marina of course.”

“I haven’t seen him in ages. I remember when he wrote me you were coming to Benton, but I never had you in class.”

“I’m not much of a history buff, I’m afraid. I took the bare minimum requirements, and I was out of there. I think I had Dr. Pinehurst for those.”

“Yes, well, you’re forgiven if you spent your time learning to make this beautiful pottery. May I look?”

“Oh, of course.” She gave him the spiel about natural dyes and lead-free glazes.

“Are you living here in Lexington now?” he asked, turning a pitcher over and looking at the price on the bottom of it.

“No, I’m still living in the same area where my family is. In fact, this is my younger sister, Spring.”

“Hello, Spring, how are you?” He gave her a friendly, but disinterested smile.

Spring bobbed her head in a curt nod. “Hi.”

“And my brothers are around here somewhere.”

“Ah, yes — the mischievous twins. I’ve heard some great stories about them.”

Laurel laughed politely and took in the appearance of her father’s friend while he looked over her work. Cooper Edwards was handsome for an older man. About her height or maybe a wee bit taller, his dark hair was trimmed short and streaked elegantly with gray at the temples. A goatee and wire-rimmed glasses gave him a scholarly appearance. He was fit; he looked like he might have been a runner, and his slender hands had a manicured, well-kept look to them.

“I think I’ll take this one.” He held a pitcher out to her. “It’s lovely.”

“Thank you. It’s one of my favorite designs, too. I love the blues and greens in it.”

He fished out his wallet and paid her in cash. “I’ll have to get down there to see your father sometime soon. You’ll tell him I asked after him, won’t you?”

“I will. I’m sure he’d be happy to hear from you,” she said in an absent-minded manner as she wrapped and bagged his purchase.

“Well, take care then.” He took her hand in both of his and winked at her. “It certainly was good to see you again.”

“Bye.” Laurel stood and watched as he walked away, looking once over his shoulder and tossing her a final charming smile.

“Well, he seemed nice.” She turned back to her pad of receipts and put the carbon between the next two sheets of paper.

“I didn’t like him.” Spring wrinkled her nose in disdain.

“Why not? He was friendly.”

“He creeps me out.”

“Oh, Spring, you’re just being obstinate. He’s a friend of Daddy’s.”

“Hmm,” Spring said noncommittally. “Whatever . . . ”

“Boy, I’m starting to hate that word,” Laurel mumbled under her breath.

“Who was the old dude holding your hand?” Crosby bounded up and picked up an orange and red bowl. “Oooh, I like this one. I haven’t seen it before.”

“He said he’s a friend of Dad’s from school, and he teaches at Benton.”

“An old prof of yours, then?”

“No, I wasn’t ever in his classes.”

“How did he know you?”

“Well, my name is on the front of the table. And I think I met him once or twice a long time ago.”

“You doing any good today? Sold any dishes?”

“Yeah. How ’bout you? You get any leads on prospective landowners?”

“Got several interested in the new development that’s opening up across the lake — you know, next to the newer, bigger marina. Gave out a bunch of my cards too. Maybe something will come of it.”

“We can hope.”

On the drive home, as Crosby and Dylan slept and Spring buried her nose in a book, Laurel considered her new acquaintances. What different feelings they provoked in her! Susan and Gary were very nice but stirred up a fevered kind of anxiety inside her. It was hard to talk to them without constantly remembering their connection to James, but with time, maybe she could overcome that. She was glad she’d met them and could see why James was so fond of them. Like him, they were good people — forthright, plainspoken, and yet, kind too.

In contrast, Cooper was a bit of an enigma, and somehow, that also drew her interest. Her father would be glad she had spoken with Dr. Edwards. She believed they once had been great friends although, over time, they had drifted apart.

Laurel had to admit she was charmed by the man. He was pleasant, well mannered, and probably quite interesting to talk to. She wondered though . . . He had asked after her family but hadn’t mentioned any family of his own. But that intriguing train of thought was interrupted when Dylan woke up and put in a CD, and the two of them had a great time belting out ’80s tunes all the way home.