Chapter Four: The Two Lovebirds
"I just don't get it." Andy set down her empty glass with a sigh. "Miranda is manipulative, demanding and insanely unreasonable. She's also really controlling! But for some reason, the more she demands the more I find myself trying desperately to please her. Whereas with Nate it's just the opposite. He's warm and tender and really considerate of my needs. But there's no spark there!"
"Not even in bed?" Abigail's question popped out almost accidentally. Instantly the sweet old lady put a hand to her mouth.
"Abigail!" Marty tapped her longtime partner lightly on the wrist. The two little old ladies were perched like lovebirds on the parlor sofa in their tiny New England cottage. They looked very fresh and crisp in their matching floral-print dresses. Dark-eyed Andy had just dropped in for a chat after biking around town all morning. Thanks to the heat, all she had on was a pair of ragged cut-off jeans and a torn white t-shirt. Miranda's slim, youthful assistant had just put her feet up in the easy chair facing the sofa.
"It's all right, Martha. Nate and I are definitely in a rut." Andy gave a lazy shrug of her shoulders, as though it was too hot for secrets. Dropping in on the two lovebirds was an escape from her hectic routine. Miranda always let her bring them a present, a pair of glass earrings or a copper necklace. The two retired school teachers were her best customers, and they adored Andy.
Marty's strong, deeply lined features wore a no-nonsense look. "You need to put some distance between you and Miranda."
"Ooh, yes! A vacation is what the poor girl needs. A break from Nate and Miranda." Abigail's round and kindly face was beaming. "Would you like some more mint tea, my dear?"
"Yes, please." Andy needed something to pick her up. She'd been running errands for Miranda all morning. Biking all over town was no fun in the middle of a heat wave. The girl in the recliner yawned, grateful for the air-conditioned coolness of the parlor. She really wasn't getting very much sleep these days. Since moving in with Miranda the nights of newfound passion had been even more exhausting than her long, demanding days!
"General Schuyler T. Vanderwyk!" Marty's triumphant cry broke the silence of the sleepy afternoon. Her wrinkled face wore the look of satisfaction she always got when an idea came to her.
"I beg your pardon?" Andy fluttered her lashes, a little bewildered. She'd only closed her eyes for a moment, imagining the long, hot day was over and picturing all the pleasures night would bring. But the work day was not over. Andy forced herself to sit up straight, hoping the mint iced tea in her glass would wake her up.
"Nearly two hundred and fifty years ago, General Schuyler T. Vanderwyck summoned all the patriots of New England to his small farmhouse high in the Green Mountains of Vermont. There they planned the daring campaign that defeated the British!"
"You're talking about the American Revolution." Andy sipped her tea, lounging in her recliner and wondering how anyone could get so excited on such a hot day. Marty still had the teaching bug, even though she'd retired years ago. Andy admired her, though she also suspected that teaching kids who didn't want to learn for thirty years had made her a total crackpot.
"The farmhouse is a bed and breakfast now," Abby explained. Her blue eyes were twinkling, as if she was used to people looking dazed when her partner gave way to her historical passions. "What Marty is saying, Andy dearest, is that you could help with the summer fundraising for the local historical society. You could travel up there as our representative and escape this awful heat!"
"Oh, I'd love to. But Miranda would never leave the shop. And if I just went on my own, she'd probably kill me." Andy shuddered, picturing the look on Miranda's face if she asked for a vacation. Miranda felt that her dress shop was a holy calling for all of them.
"You leave Miranda to me," Marty instructed. The look on her face told Andy that she wasn't intimidated at all. Marty loved a challenge. She actually enjoyed matching wits with Miranda.
"The old Vanderwyk Inn is the most romantic spot in New England!" Abigail sounded almost dreamy. Andy got the picture. When she closed her eyes she could see the two lovebirds making a regular trip to their special place, returning to the same spot year after year. Andy pictured it all, but with Miranda by her side. Walking the woodland trails hand in hand, making love in a real four-poster bed. Forgetting all her worries, Andy fell asleep with a wistful smile on her face. Maybe someday . . . someday . . .
"Abigail," Marty said softly. "I think Andy will be staying for a while."