“That’s the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard.”
“Not as bad as ‘I know you from somewhere.’?”
Callie laughed.
As the bidding concluded, the audience applauded. Marta rose from her chair and headed to the podium.
“What? You’re not speaking this year?” Emily smiled at Towner.
“Very funny,” Towner said. Reading Callie’s curious look, she added, “Public speaking is not my forte.”
“Public anything,” Emily joked. “It runs in the family.”
“What does that mean?” Callie asked. She was tired of not being in on the joke.
Emily smiled. “Towner’s family tends to shy away from public forums. May Whitney hasn’t left her island for, what is it now, five years?”
“Almost,” Towner said.
Marta said a few words of greeting, thanking people for coming out on such a rainy night, thanking them for their ongoing support. Then she lowered the microphone and moved closer to it, softening her voice as well until all residual conversation ceased, leaving only the occasional clink of cup on saucer.
“My message this evening is brief but to the point. Twenty fourteen has been a challenging year for the shelter financially, as you all know. Yellow Dog Island usually shelters about fifty women annually. But this year they have seen a hundred percent increase in guests.”
There was an audible gasp from the crowd.
“The reentry program that Towner Whitney runs at Eva’s Lace Reader Tearoom has funded itself and is able to provide some money for the shelter. But we need more help. Hard times can bring out the worst in people. Abuse increases as employment falters. Violence is on the rise.” She paused and took a breath, then smiled at the audience. “For most of us, times have greatly improved in the last few years…For most of us. But not for everyone. There’s a growing number of people out there for whom the economy has not improved. Nor have their lives. We need to remember that. You know the work we do out there, and you know what we need from you. Your pledge cards are on the table. Thank you.”
“Short but sweet,” Emily said as Marta sat down at their table. “Well done.”
When she saw the pledge card, Callie was embarrassed not to have brought her checkbook. “I’ll contribute tomorrow,” she said quietly to Towner.
“Don’t be silly,” Towner said. “That’s not why I brought you.” Towner raised a glass to Marta. “For all of your help this year,” she said. “We couldn’t have survived without your fund-raising skills. We don’t thank you nearly enough.”
Slowly everyone raised their glasses and toasted Marta.
Everyone sipped except Marta herself.
“You’re not drinking?” Callie said.
“One doesn’t drink when one is being toasted,” Marta said.
Callie quieted. Emily noticed her embarrassment and turned to her conspiratorially. “One doesn’t drink, and one doesn’t ever clink,” Emily said to Callie. “Nor does one ever toast with water. Oh, the many things right and proper we’ve learned from Marta! They could fill a book that would rival anything written by Emily Post or Miss Manners.”
She said it with a smile, but Callie noticed an edge to her tone.
Marta took the cue and didn’t say anything else but, instead, turned her attention to Callie. She was staring at her intently.
Callie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying to look away, but she could feel Marta’s eyes on her the whole time.
“I meant to tell you, Callie. The Whitings and Marta are next-door neighbors,” Towner said, to fill the awkward pause. “Their family histories go back generations, all the way to the Salem Witch Trials.”
“Marta moved back to the ‘provinces’ a few years ago,” Emily said, her air quotes showing she was still annoyed by Marta’s rude correction of Callie. “She’s far too sophisticated for us. I’m sure we bore her to distraction.”
“Not at all,” Marta said, recovering her composure and smiling sweetly at Emily. “Actually, I find Essex County both exciting and rather decadent.”
Before Emily had time to reply, Towner tried to redirect the conversation. “Callie recently moved here,” she explained to Emily and Paul. “Though we don’t yet know if she’ll be staying.”
“I’ll be staying for a while at least,” Callie said.
“Marta’s mother left her a beautiful First Period house,” Towner said. “Marta, you should show it to Callie.”
“I’d be happy to,” Marta said.
Towner continued, turning to Callie. “You really should see the place. Emily and Marta always host a holiday house tour to benefit local charities. Combined, the properties have buildings and outbuildings from five different architectural periods, though Marta’s 1630s saltbox and Pride’s Heart are the only two opened for the public to tour.”
“What is Pride’s Heart?”
“Pride’s Heart is the Whitings’ mansion in the very ‘heart’ of Pride’s Crossing,” Marta indicated with air quotes of her own.
“It’s really quite remarkable. The land is part of the town of Beverly now but was once considered Salem. It’s picture perfect over the holidays. We go to Thanksgiving dinner at Pride’s Heart every year,” Towner said.
“You should join us this year,” Paul said. “Mother, don’t you think Callie should join us for Thanksgiving?” He wasn’t looking at Emily but was keeping his eyes on Callie and grinning. He was playing with her.
“You really should,” Marta chimed in quickly. “Emily’s Thanksgiving feast is legendary in these parts.”
Callie saw a look pass between Towner and Emily.
“You’d be more than welcome,” Emily said.
“I appreciate the invitation, but really I don’t even know if I’ll be here on Thanksgiving—”
“You’ll love Pride’s Heart,” Towner added.
“Come for the weekend,” Paul said. “Towner and Rafferty always do.”
“Don’t you go to see May on Thanksgiving?” Callie asked Towner.
“We go out to Yellow Dog Island for a few hours first, but we always arrive back in time for dinner,” Towner said, in a coaxing voice.
“It’s a very generous invitation, but I’m not sure…” Callie said.
“Oh, you must come,” Marta said, jumping in. “I’ll pick you up myself.”
“Wow,” Callie said, not quite certain whom she should address but choosing Emily. “Can I let you know in a day or two?” The minute she posed the question, she heard her mistake. Rose had corrected her almost daily. You can, but you may not. Now Callie corrected herself; “I mean, may I?”
“Of course,” Emily said. “Take your time. And don’t let my son talk you into something you don’t want to do.”
“I’d like to,” Callie said. “Really. I just need to check my schedule.” She knew she sounded both inane and rude. What person doesn’t know whether or not they have plans for Thanksgiving when it’s less than a week away?