“Sounds like we might have a lot to catch up on tonight.” Jane picked up the swatch and compared it to the ribbon on the centerpiece again. “How about we meet at Splash? We can find out how Bridezilla liked the centerpieces, and Maxi can update us on her call with Chandler Vanbeck.”
Chapter Five
Andie was getting used to Tall Pines, the memory care facility her mother, Addie, now resided in. It was a nice place, set up to look more like a giant home than an institution. Addie's room had been decorated to resemble the way her room at Tides had always looked. It was clean, comfortable, and since it faced south, always bright with sunshine.
Andie had to admit she was surprised at how well her mother had adjusted. Addie was always happy and interacted with the residents, and just like when she ran Tides, she seemed to keep busy. At Tides it was with guest registration and overseeing the cleaning. Here it was with playing cards and word search. It was a huge relief.
Today Addie had been working on a small puzzle at the table under the window when Andie came in. She turned and smiled, recognition lighting her face. She was having one of her lucid moments, which Andie was learning to treasure more and more. Who knew when those would start to become few and far between?
“Are all the guests at breakfast?” Addie asked. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t totally lucid. It wasn’t unusual for Addie to think that she was still at Tides, though Andie wondered if that didn’t have a lot to do with the fact that they’d replicated her room.
Andie took her hand, frail with skin like parchment. “Jane has everything under control. Don’t worry.”
“Jane’s a good girl. You need to help her.”
“I’m trying, Mom.”
Addie chuckled. “She is a bit stubborn, I know. But she’ll come around. After all, everyone should be able to do what they love.”
“And Jane loves running Tides?” Andie doubted that, given the way her sister hated dealing with the guests.
“Oh sure, who wouldn’t? ButIrun Tides. Jane is just helping.” Addie turned curious eyes on Andie. “And what about you? You love Tides, too, don’t you?”
Andie pressed her lips together. She did love the old place. It held most of her fondest childhood memories. Her work on restoring the garden at Tides had been invigorating. She’d loved gardening with her mother as a kid but had gotten away from it with being in the city. She’d forgotten how much she loved plants and flowers. And being back here had changed her. It had made her see that maybe some things she’d thought were important really weren’t.
“I do love Tides, but I also really love antiques. Antiques are my passion. There’s something exciting about digging around in old trunks and attics, anticipating an important find.” Andie sighed and patted her mother’s hand. “But all the good antiques are in the city, so if I want to work in that field, I can’t stay in Lobster Bay.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that. These old New England towns have the best finds,” a voice boomed from the doorway. Andie turned to see a woman in a wheelchair. She had curly gray hair and looked to be ninety if she was a day.
“Oh, Sheila, this is my sister Bridget,” Addie said. Addie often thought Andie was her younger sister Bridget, so the mis-introduction didn’t bother Andie much.
Apparently it didn’t bother the woman either. She winked at Andie then wheeled into the room and extended her hand. “Rita Duvalle.”
“Andie Miller.” Andie shook her hand then lowered her voice. “Addie’s daughter.”
Rita smiled and nodded. “I live here at Tall Pines in the independent living section. I like to come over to the memory care unit and help out with the activities. My body might not work so good anymore, but the brain needs to stay active.” She tapped the side of her head with a gnarled finger.
“Rita is very good at painting too,” Addie said, glancing at the paint-splotched paper hanging on her wall. It was one of Addie’s creations, which she was very proud of.
“Sorry to barge in,” Rita said. “But I couldn’t help but overhear you mentioning antiques. I was an antique dealer my whole life. Miss all that old stuff. It has a way of getting into your blood, doesn’t it?”
“It sure does.” Andie was enjoying helping with Tides, but she had to admit the pull to get back to her world of dusty old pieces of furniture and long-forgotten family heirlooms was strong. “I work at Christies as an appraiser.”
Rita’s brow shot up. “Oh, how interesting. I thought about going that route but found that setting up shop here in town was much more interesting.”
Andie was intrigued. “Really? How so?”
Rita tilted her head as she considered the question. “I guess you’d say it’s the people. The connection to the families. The opportunity for undiscovered finds.”
“Undiscovered finds? I wouldn’t think there would be much of that in a small town.”
“You’d be surprised. There’s actually a better chance. These frugal New Englanders never throw anything out, and unlike in the big city, it’s not all picked over.”
“I guess you have a point there.” Most of the collections that Andie appraised had been carefully curated, and there weren’t many surprises to be found. Could Rita be on to something? But there was no big auction house around Lobster Bay.
“But the thing I liked the most is the stories. People would come into my shop and ask me to hoe out their attic. Every item had a personal story. You wouldn’t believe some of the things I found! Civil War papers, old diaries. It’s so rewarding to connect with the actual ancestors of the people who owned the items.”
“So you had a shop here in town?” Andie didn’t remember any antique shop, but then she hadn’t really paid much attention to what was in town for the past thirty years.
