The Kiss: An Anthology About Love and Other Close Encounters(59)

“A few I’ll bet. Here, let me get you a cup.”

Vicki relented as she wiped the dirt from her hands, the wet cloth nearly black from the grime. Holly nodded and with a quick turn of the head, slipped back into the kitchen, her daughter-in-law in tow. They each sat down in their familiar chairs, looking across the table at each other.

“Now, what’s on your mind?” Holly leaned back in the chair, her back coming to rest against the spindles, and brought the steaming cup to her lips.

“It’s surprising how well you know me. My own mother never knew me that well.”

“Your mother only knew you as a child. I know you as an adult. That makes for a very different person.”

“I’m not sure how you will react.” Vicki set her cup down on the saucer and leaned back. “I have a job offer.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Mind? Of course not.” Holly leaned forward with a gracious smile. “Besides, we can use the money.”

“But that means you’ll be watching the kids more often.”

“I think I can handle it, Vicki.” A turn of the head downward with raised eyes was a knowing gesture to her new daughter. “I’ve raised kids before, you know. Who’s offering?”

“It doesn’t pay much. It’s the county office down on Walker Street. I would be the receptionist for them.”

“Why, that’s wonderful.”

“You haven’t heard the pay yet.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s more than we have coming in now. We’ll manage.”





Chapter Three: A Lost Past


The rain stopped just long enough for her to dash from her parking place to the drab, stocky building two blocks away. Like many buildings constructed along the coast, it was built to withstand the harsh realities of New England weather in all seasons. It made a suitable government office, drab and dreary. But it was a job, a paying job.

“May I help you?”

Vicki turned back to the small office after she closed the door, the rains erupting just as she stepped inside. She dropped her umbrella into the can, slipped off her coat and hung it directly on the hook above the radiator heater.

“Oh, hi Vicki. Glad you could make it.”

“Hi George. I’m just not used to so much rain.”

“That’s what comes from living in these parts.” George laid the papers he had been scanning back down on the tall counter and slid around its side, out into the small room. He pushed through the two-way panel-door holding both a big smile and a welcoming handshake. “Welcome to government work.”

“Thanks,” Vicki replied with a big smile of her own. “My husband is a captain stationed overseas. I’m used to government work.” Her hand met George’s and she felt like she was home.

“I’m going to give you some quick, hands-on experience. Where do you live?”

“Why?”

“I’ll show you.” George put up his hand and motioned with his finger. “Come.”

They walked behind the counter and stood over a wide, square table covered with all manner of drawings and permits for buildings around the town. George tidied up the pile, stacking the drawings in an organized manner.

“Where do you live?”

“Over on Front Street, number 45.”

George moved over to a series of gray steel cabinets lined up against the rear wall. As he rifled through the drawers, she let her eyes explore her new office. The walls were painted a stark government white but they were clean. The heating ducts were large and exposed and kept the room comfortable, at least for now. She was sure a heady New England winter would change that. George was back at the table within minutes, a fistful of documents in his hands.

“What’s all this?”

“This is the history of your current home.” He spread the papers out and sorted them. “These tell who owned it and when, if there were any permits taken out for significant structural changes or repairs made, such as electrical upgrades or things like that.”

“And you’re telling me this, why?”

“Because this is some of what you will be doing for others who may have questions about their home. Look these over and you can get a sense of what some people may be looking for.” He stepped back and motioned with the wave of a hand. “I hate to throw you into the deep end on your first day, but I need to step out for a few minutes.”

“What?” Vicki’s face went pale as she stood staring at George, her mouth hanging slightly open.

“Oh, now don’t be alarmed. I won’t be gone but for an hour or so. If anyone has any questions, which I don’t think they will, just tell them I’ll be back shortly.”

“Whatever you say.” Vicki looked at him, her eyes as wide as pie plates.

“I’ll be back soon.” George was quickly at the front wall and lifted his coat off the hook that was nailed to the old slat-wall. She sighed as her new boss slipped on a slicker that looked every bit of twenty years old, then turned and nodded with a gentle smile. His face was full, but aged as that of an old sea captain. He looked like a true New Englander, almost an old salt if there ever was one.

The hour passed quickly as she dug into the paperwork. To her, it was like looking back into an hourglass of time. She walked back through each owner, the deeds taking her back over fifty years. There were a few gaps, a noticeable one during the war years. She was started as the bells above the door tinkled, the steel top pushing past. She hadn’t even noticed them when she came in to start the day.