Chapter One: You Finally Came Home
Myra
“Holidays suck big hairy monkey balls,” I grumbled as I punched the button on the radio. New Year’s had already come and gone, but the local station was still playing Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas is You.
The radio station, like the rest of this podunk town, was behind the times. I hadn't been back to Mount Tabor for almost ten years, and yet it seemed like nothing had changed. Same badly maintained roads. Same old brick buildings.
It was like a perpetual quaint winter scene caught in a snow globe.
I hated everything about this town, and nothing on hell or earth could have persuaded me to come back… except Aunt Dot.
And even then, if it hadn’t been a matter of life and death, I would have found an excuse to stay away, just as I had done every year for the last ten years.
My heart twisted with guilt as I drove past Main Street with its weird narrow road, which had clearly been designed for a horse and buggy. I passed the café, straight on through town to the Happy Pine’s Nursing Home. I parked in a spot designated for visitors, grabbed the slightly wilted bouquet of flowers and hurried into the white clapboard building, slipping and sliding on the ice. I narrowly avoided falling on my ass before I reached the automatic double doors.
I was relieved that the nurse at the front desk was a stranger. She was short and plump with dyed purple hair and a name tag that said Nurse Tammi.
“Hi! I’m here to see Aunt Dot. I mean, Dorothy Kent.” I said a little breathlessly.
The nurse smiled, “We all know Aunt Dot. She’s in room eleven, down the hall, to the left.”
Yes, Dorothy Kent was everyone’s “Aunt Dot.” In fact, I wasn’t even related to her, but when my life was falling apart, she took me in.
She was the closest thing to family that I had.
I found eleven and lightly knocked on the door jamb of the open door before I stepped into the room. It was painted pale blue, and looked like a cross between a cheap hotel and a hospital room. The wide window sill was already crowded with bouquets of flowers, get-well-soon teddy bears, and mylar balloons that were running out of helium. It was a visual testament to Mount Tabor’s most beloved woman.
Aunt Dot was on the hospital bed, propped up on pillows, napping, with her mouth slightly open. She snored like a chainsaw.
I stood and stared.
It had been ten years. Of course, the old woman had only gotten older. But her frail appearance startled me. Her hair had always been white, for as long as I could remember. Cut short and parted on the side, with natural waves. But now her hair had grown so thin I could see her pink scalp, and she had a bad case of bed-head. Her skin looked pale, dry and papery, and her skinny arms were covered with bruises from recent IV needles.
She didn’t look like the formidable old woman I knew. She just looked old. And terrifyingly fragile.
No wonder she had called me back to help her. Clearly, she was not able to continue to run her beloved café and bakery, Dottie’s Place.
She was way past due for retirement.
Beside her bed, a portable heart monitor silently tracked her rhythms, her blood pressure, and oxygen saturation. According to Aunt Dot, she had suffered a “minor” heart problem, and she had just undergone surgery to have a pacemaker installed. Now she was stuck at Happy Pines for cardiac rehab.
I moved closer to the bed, and gently touched her hand. “Aunt Dot? It’s Myra. I’m here.”
She choked on her last snore, and blinked awake. She turned her head slowly to look at me. “Myra? Is it really you? I don’t know where the hell they’ve put my glasses, I can’t see a goddamn thing. Come here! Come closer!”
I leaned in, and she put her hands on my cheeks, touching my face like she was a blind woman trying to identify my features. Her baby-blue eyes watered. “You came. You finally came home!”
I cringed at the word home, but let it slide. “Of course I came!” I swallowed hard and shoved the flowers toward her. “I brought you some flowers, but it looks like you already have plenty.”
“Oh, aren't they lovely!” She fawned over the bouquet like it wasn't just a cheap mixed-flower arrangement I had hastily picked up at a supermarket on the seven-hour drive over. “Can you put them in the window with the others? I just love looking at them all, they really cheer me up.”
I didn’t have a vase, but I found a bunch of carnations that were turning brown in a nice pink ceramic cup and swapped them out for mine. I dumped the old flowers in the trash can.
I returned to her bedside and pulled up a chair.
“So, where are you staying?” Dot asked sharply.
“I thought I’d go down to Katy’s Kottages…”
“Oh dear, that won’t work,” Aunt Dot said. “Katy’s closed down last year. The place was falling apart. She couldn’t keep up with the maintenance, poor dear.”
“Oh, okay. Maybe the Victorian Inn then.” The Inn was a bit pricey, but it was the only other place in town. Otherwise, I’d have to drive all the way back to Rutberg to find a hotel, and commute forty-five minutes each way.
Aunt Dot shook her head. “This time of year? With the holidays? The Victorian will be booked solid straight through Valentine’s Day.” She reached out and took my hand. “You can stay in the apartment over the bakery. It’s been empty for quite a while, but it’s still furnished.”
The apartment over the bakery. The place I had lived until I graduated from high school and made my escape. That wasn't weirdly nostalgic or anything. But, whatever. It was only for a few weeks. I would help Aunt Dot get the bakery sorted and sold, and then I could go back to my studio apartment in Rochester.
“Alright then,” I agreed. “Where can I get a key?”
Her hand tightened around mine. “You’ll have to get it from Tony.”
My heart stumbled in my chest so hard I thought I might also need a pace-maker. “T-Tony? Anthony is around?”
Aunt Dot smiled happily. “Tony is always around! He came back to Mount Tabor after he finished school, and he’s been here ever since! He’s been running the bakery for me since I went into the hospital.”
“Wait! Running the bakery? Why didn’t you just shut it down?” I didn’t mean to sound quite so disapproving, but my brain was still struggling with her last statement.
Tony is always around.
If she had told me that on the phone two days ago, I might have thought twice about rushing back to Mount Tabor.
“I couldn’t shut it down! The holidays are our busiest time of year!” Aunt Dot protested.
“Aunt Dot, if you are worried about money, I can spot you until the bakery sells.”
She dropped my hand like she was a little disgusted with my answer. “My dear girl,” she said firmly. “It’s never about the money.”
