The Letter(2)
She touched the letter again, wondering who had sent it, and who Josephine Amaud had been. Maybe searching for the answer was not such a bad idea after all. Maybe a split from everyday life was just what she needed. Okay, to be honest, maybe she was running away. Away from the stress and loss and emptiness. She might be all grown up now, but she still felt like a little lost orphan.
~ * ~
Never one to put off action after she’d made a decision, Madeline left early the next day and headed south on Highway 55. Maybe she could find out what had happened to Josephine and her mysterious letter writer. Her boss had been happy to accept her vacation request. Perhaps a bit too happy, but she wasn’t going to think about that.
The tension that had held her so close for so many weeks began to fade away as the miles rolled by. She’d always liked driving. Road trips were so much more enjoyable than flying. A chance to see the country. Besides, she absolutely lusted after a break from the gray dreary winter weather they’d been having in St. Louis. Piles of dirty snow had lined the street for weeks in her neighborhood. It was so nice to drive south and out of the snow.
The high temperature in Mississippi was supposed to be seventy degrees today and sunny. She’d checked on the weather app on her phone before she left. After hours of driving, she drove out of the snow and cloudy skies in Missouri and into the sunshine in Tennessee. The temperature warmed a bit with each state line she crossed.
She stopped occasionally for gas or coffee or just to stretch her legs. She climbed back in her car, and her GPS lady would guide her back to the highway. She loved her British-accent GPS lady—she had named her Eleanor. Eleanor was always ready with some helpful guidance. She found herself talking to Eleanor, thanking her, and arguing with her when she thought Eleanor was wrong.
Madeline decided she was a nutcase these days. She doubted many people carried on conversations with their GPS lady—much less named her.
Finally, at the end of the afternoon, Eleanor graciously told her when it was time to head off the highway and take the back roads towards Comfort Crossing.
It was nightfall when she pulled into town and turned onto the main road through town—appropriately named Main Street. The road was paved in brick cobblestone and her car made a rackety noise as she drove down the street.
Part way down Main Street she saw a sign on a large white house with a wide front porch. The words Sweet Tea Bed and Breakfast were carved into a fancy wooden sign. A vacancy sign hung below it. That worked. She hadn’t thought to make reservations or look up a place to stay. She pulled her car into the circular drive.
She grabbed her bag from the front seat and headed up to the front door. The door knocker made a clanking noise through the warm night air. The door opened and light spilled out onto the front porch.
“Welcome to the Sweet Tea.” A woman, probably in her fifties, stood in the doorway. She flashed a warm smile and tucked a flyaway piece of graying hair behind her ear. “You looking for a place to stay?”
“I am, but I’m not sure how long I’ll be here.”
“Well, come on in. I’m Rebecca, by the way.”
“Madeline. Madeline Stuart.”
Rebecca led her over to a desk in the corner of the front room. “Let’s get you all signed in. I have a nice corner room available. It overlooks our backyard gardens. Still a few things blooming out there. I think you’ll like it. We have three other guests right now. Breakfast is between seven and ten. Whatever time works for you, just come on down to the dining room.”
Madeline let the stream of conversation wash over her. The B&B was decorated with antiques and overstuffed chairs that begged a person to come and sit down. It all looked so homey and welcoming, which was comforting and disconcerting at the same time in her current frame of mind.
Rebecca interrupted her thoughts. “Here’s your key. Do you want me to take your bag?”
“No, I’ve got it, thanks.” Madeline trailed behind Rebecca as the woman practically bounced up the stairs. She’d be so lucky to have that much energy at that age. Heck, she’d be lucky to have that much energy now. The last month had taken its toll.
Rebecca opened the door and handed Madeline the key. “Here you go. Let me know if you need anything. I usually have coffee going by six in the morning if you want some before breakfast. Tomorrow is french toast, but if that doesn’t work for you I can cook you some eggs or whatever you want. Always have fruit and some kind of pastry.”
Madeline looked around the room, so prettily decorated with antiques. A vintage white chenille bedspread covered the queen sized bed and she broke into a smile. Her grandmother had owned a bedspread just like it.