Previously Loved Treasures (Serendipity #2)(17)

When they got to the bottom of the staircase, Ida opened the front door and they hauled the coverlet to the curb. Since it was way too big to fit in the garbage can, Wilbur tied the four corners together and closed the bundle.

As they started back to the house, Wilbur said, “You got another new boarder coming?”

Ida gave a wide grin and a nod. “I sure do. My granddaughter.”

“So you got hold of her, huh?” Wilbur replied. He looked almost as happy as Ida.

~

Once the room was emptied out, Ida began thinking about how she’d decorate it. The rosewood bed would have been perfect, but, of course, it was now sitting in Laricka’s room. If Laricka were a woman with a single suitcase Ida might ask her to switch beds, or maybe even switch rooms, but with all those trunks…

Thinking of the rosewood bed made Ida remember the Previously Loved Treasures shop. Peter Pennington said he’d have whatever she needed. Okay, Ida mused, Let’s see if you can come up with another beautiful bed, Mister Pennington.

Ida looked forward to returning to the shop. Although she had only been there once it held a strange fascination, a kind of magic calling her back. It wasn’t a fancy store, but stepping inside was like losing yourself in a dream. It was something she wanted to share with a friend, so she called Roberta Maslowski.

“Remember that Previously Loved Treasures shop I told you about?” Ida asked.

“I remember,” Roberta said, “but I’ve never been there.”

“Well, I’m going back today. Want to come along?”

“I’ve promised to watch my grandbabies today, but if you was to go tomorrow…”

“It’s got to be today,” Ida said. “I need a few things for my granddaughter’s room.”

Roberta had been friends with Ida for forty years, and this was the first mention she’d ever heard of a grandchild. “What granddaughter?”

Ida told her the full story of Sam Caldwell’s search and finding James’s daughter. “She’ll be here on Friday, and the room has to be perfect.”

“Well, I’ve got a perfectly good bunk bed if you need it.”

“Bunk bed? Why, that’s used furniture! I need something special for Caroline.”

They spoke for a few moments longer then hung up. Roberta was left wondering what exactly the difference was between a used furniture bed and a previously loved bed.

Ida called two more friends, but Deb Vaughan had to work and Ilene Goldberg had a bridge game. In a last-ditch effort to find someone to come along, she asked Laricka.

“So sorry,” Laricka replied, “but today is my day with the boys.”

The boys, Ida knew, were Laricka’s two noisy grandsons who banged in and out of the front door a dozen times a day. “Can’t you skip seeing them for one afternoon?”

“No, no, no,” Laricka replied. “Children grow up too quickly. Miss one day of being with them, and by the next day something’s changed.” She told Ida of a time five years back when she’d missed seeing the boys, and it turned out to be the very day one of the lads lost his first tooth. “I’ve never forgiven myself for missing that,” she said with a sigh.

“Okay.” Ida shrugged; then she walked off. Laricka’s comment had struck a nerve and resurrected thoughts of all the things she herself had missed, all the days of being together that could never be recaptured. At that point, Ida was no longer interested in having company. She climbed into her car and drove crosstown alone.

~

Peter Pennington stood in front of the store, almost as if he was expecting her. “Welcome, welcome,” he said and took her hand in his.

As they walked into the store, Ida said, “I’m hoping you have another beautiful bed.”

Peter stopped, turned, and looked at her with an expression of puzzlement. “Bed? You don’t need a bed, you need a lace coverlet and a lamp.”

While it was true that she’d need a new coverlet, Ida replied, “I do so need a bed.”

Peter shook his head. “The four-poster you have is fine. All it needs is a coat of polish.”

Ida’s mouth dropped open. “How did you know…” Before Peter could answer she shouted, “Roberta! Roberta Maslowski told you, didn’t she?”

“No one told me.” Peter gave a mischievous grin. “As I’ve said before, I have a gift for understanding what customers need and don’t need.”

“So you’re an expert on what people need?” Ida said facetiously.

“Actually, yes. People often confuse wanting and needing. It’s my job to make that distinction. When a person says I need this, that, or the other thing, they honestly believe if they get what they’re asking for they’ll be happy.”

Ida, a practical woman not easily tricked, found herself drawn into the conversation. “And are they?”

“Once in a while,” Peter said, “but more often than not they simply move on to wishing for something else.”

“Well, you may be right about other people,” Ida replied, “but I really do need a bed. My granddaughter is coming to live with—”

“I know,” Peter interrupted. “But once it’s polished the four-poster will look fine, and she’ll appreciate that it was her father’s.”