Happy Coincidences by Ellen Dye
Happy Coincidences This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental. Happy Coincidences COPYRIGHT © 2008 by Ellen Dye All rights reserved. This is an “unedited” as is title. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Contact Information:
[email protected] Cover Art by RJ Morris The Wild Rose Press PO Box 706 Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706 Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com Publishing History First Champagne Rose Edition, May 2008 Free Read Published in the United States of America
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Mary Kate adjusted the slender red tube attached to the oil can, and sprayed the almost invisible hinges once again. She was rewarded with a slight wiggle. Elated, she tried again; a spray, a gentle push and then the cleverly crafted door hiding the secret compartment of the antique walnut desk swung open. Eagerly she peered inside, hoping to find some clue to the desk’s origins or maybe information about the previous owner. Something, or anything, which would explain why she’d been drawn to the mysterious roll top, in desperate need of repair, she’d been positively obsessed to own despite it’s high price tag. “Empty,” Mary Kate sighed. She gathered her refinishing tools and tossed them into a plastic milk crate for storage. She was a bit disappointed that she hadn’t unearthed any clues, but she was still elated with her purchase. The desk, as had the many other pieces she’d picked up here and there, seemed to belong in this cottage. Just as the scrubbed oak table had called to her from the flea market stall begging to be placed in the center of the cheery kitchen, the battered roll-top had called to her from the antique shop just asking to be repaired and placed in the front parlor. Without question she’d paid the requested sum, promising herself frugality in the future, and loaded 1
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the desk in her van. As she climbed in the shop owner confided there had been another interested buyer. There seemed to be a lot of that going around lately, Mary Kate mused. She’d only gotten the cottage itself by the sheerest of luck. Fortunately, she’d received a loan approval first and beaten out the other potential buyer; by a hair’s width it seemed. Unable to believe that with all her hard work to get the compartment to open, there’d been nothing in there, she pushed her hand in as far as it would go. Her fingertips brushed something and her heart skipped a beat. She reached in even farther and winced as the skin on her hand pinched. It would be just her luck to get her hand stuck! Carefully, she pulled her find out of its hiding place and into the light. It was a photo, a very old one. Sepia tones worn gentle with time, she thought smoothing out the crumpled edge. A very handsome man in a suit with a high white collared shirt. Next to him was; an exquisitely beautiful woman wearing a long dress with tiny buttons securing the bodice, a large cameo at her throat. Early 1900’s, Mary Kate guessed by the style of their clothing. She stared at the photo, drawn to it in much the same way she’d been drawn to the desk it came from. The tender way the man’s hand rested on the woman’s shoulder, the faded garden in the background, were interesting, but what she saw most of all was something in their expressions. It was as though the pair knew they’d found the love of a lifetime and the photographer had captured that very moment of discovery. Who were these people? She flipped the picture over. Two initials were all she could make out, M. and C. The writing was faint with age and spotted as 2
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though careless drops of water had fallen upon it. Had these people been the original owners of the desk? Could they have lived locally? If they did, maybe the antique owner knew who they were. Without giving herself time to question her actions she grabbed her purse and headed to her van with the photo in hand. A half hour later she parked in front of Downtown Antiques. The instant she reached for the door knob her hopes fell flat. Closed, the sign read. A quick glance at the posted hours told Mary Kate the shop wouldn’t be open again until Monday, two long days away. On impulse she ducked into the bookstore next door. Rare and Antique Books, the carved wooden sign hanging above the door announced. Maybe someone here could help. As soon as the door swung shut Mary Kate was greeted by the intoxicating smell of books. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, savoring. “Can I help you?” Mary Kate’s eyes flew open, coming to rest on a very handsome man. Tall, dark hair, deep brown eyes and a kind smile. She smiled in return, feeling a slight flutter around her heart. “Well, I’m not sure,” she began, then hesitated. “I’ve just opened, the store’s a bit of a mess,” he replied, gesturing with a wave at the large stacks of books piled before oak shelves leading from floor to ceiling. “But if there’s something particular you’re looking for...” he trailed off. “It’s just that I’m not really looking for a book,” she blurted. “Oh?” he asked. “I was hoping to get some information about these people.” She pulled the photo from her purse, handing it to him. “I found it in an old desk that I’d 3
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bought next door.” “So you’re the one.” “The one?” “The one who bought that walnut roll top I’d had my eye on.” Mary Kate blushed furiously. “I didn’t know...” she stammered. He extended his hand. “I’m Colin.” She smiled; his hand was large and warm. “I’m Mary Kate.” He looked at the photo, and excitement flickered across his face. “This is Colin and Mary Manning. They used to own that cottage on Main Street.” “Did you know them?” “They were my great-grandparents, but they died when I was very young. I was named for him.” “I’m so sorry,” she replied and then fell silent reflecting on the now solved mystery of the initials. “And you found this in that desk?” He looked at the photo once more. “Yes.” She suddenly felt guilty as if she’d poached a family heirloom. “I knew that desk had called to me for a reason,” Colin handed the photo back. “If you’d like to buy it...” Colin smiled, brown eyes filled with warmth. “No, something tells me you’ll give it a good home.” Mary Kate grinned. “Did you say they lived in a cottage on Main?” “Yes. The one with the green shutters,” he clarified. “That’s my house,” she exclaimed. “So you’re the one with the pre-approved loan?” Mary Kate’s cheeks flamed. “That’s me,” she admitted, hoping he wouldn’t be too angry. “The place sort of called to you?” He stroked his chin and stared at her. “Why, yes it did.” She couldn’t believe he knew 4
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that! “Then you must belong there.” His smile was warm. “Were Colin and Mary happy in the cottage?” she asked. “Very much. For fifty years.” “You’re not angry, that I bought it?” “Of course not. The property fell out of my family years ago. I’ve been living in the city myself until recently. I just had this urge to come home, to...” “Get back to your roots?” Mary Kate volunteered. “Exactly.” “Me, too.” They exchanged a look of mutual understanding. “Would you like to see some pictures of the place? I have an album?” She nodded and took a seat behind the front counter as Colin pulled a leather bound volume from a shelf. “This is how the kitchen used to look.” He gestured to a worn photo. “It looks the just the same now,” Mary Kate marveled at the photo which was an exact replica of the kitchen she’d just finished decorating. “The kitchen was my grandmother’s favorite room.” “Mine too.” “And mine,” Colin added. Several photos later, he closed the album. Mary Kate felt a sense of loss and wanted to ask him if she could study the pictures closer but it seemed an intrusion. She climbed off the stool and stepped back around the counter. She picked up her purse. “I know we’ve just met but would you like to get a cup of coffee?” 5
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She looked up and smiled. “I’d love to.” Then she frowned. She couldn’t tonight. She glanced at her watch. Would he understood if she asked for a rain check or would he think she was brushing him off? “I’ve got plans tonight though.” “Maybe some other time?” “I’d like that,” she said, hoping he could see her sincerity. Little more than an hour later, after a quick shower and a change of clothes, Mary Kate was pulling into her usual parking space at the diner. What with furniture hunting, refinishing and decorating she’d had little time to cook or make friends but the diner had solved both problems. Susan, the owner, had frequently stopped by the corner booth to chat as Mary Kate enjoyed the nightly special. Lately, she had begun to tell Mary Kate about her nephew- you two have so much in common, she’d say. Finally, Mary Kate had agreed to meet him tonight. As she took her usual seat Mary Kate felt a bit disappointed about the missed coffee date, but she knew Susan was counting on her to be here tonight, and she was a woman who kept her word. Her friend had been wanting to introduce her to her nephew for several weeks and she’d asked her to come tonight to meet him. “There you are,” Susan exclaimed, bustling from the kitchen. “Hi. You’ll never believe what happened today. I met someone,” Mary Kate gushed. Susan rolled her eyes. “It must be an epidemic. My nephew said the same thing. Something about kindred spirits.” “He’s not here?” Mary Kate asked. Maybe it wouldn’t be too late to go back to the bookshop and take Colin up on that coffee invitation. “Oh, he’s here.” 6
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Just then a handsome man with dark hair and a kind smile walked through the kitchen door. “Mary Kate!” he exclaimed. “Colin!” “You two already met?” Susan asked. “Well, it was...” Colin started. “We sort of...” Mary Kate faltered. “Must be the kindred spirit thing,” Susan offered. Both Colin and Mary Kate burst out laughing as he slid into the booth. “Must be,” they finished together. “Or something spoke to us.”
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