Early morning breakfast plans with Mercury, and I have too much on my mind …
I hate to say I told you so, dear daughter of mine, but I told you so.
I don’t remember her room number, so I dial Miller.
“Greetings, Madam, and a good morning to you!”
“Good morning, Miller. Could you please remind me of my dear daughter’s room number? We’re planning an early breakfast.”
“Well, she’s in 321, but she just checked out,” Miller said. “She’s already in the dining room with coffee, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Then I will join her there momentarily,” I tell him. “Thank you Miller, as always. You’re a true friend.”
I can hear Miller chuckling on the other side. “Yes, Madam, until Tuesday, when, per usual, I pick your pockets at gin.”
“HA!” and I laugh for what feels like the first time in a while. “We’ll just see …”
I hang up the phone and take the stairs – no time for a walk today, that’s for sure. I arrive in the dining room where Mercury is seated, sipping coffee, and analyzing the menu.
“Well, you look gorgeous, dear,” I tell her, because, indeed, she does. Her deep blue business suit and smart cream blouse shimmered in the morning light.
Mercury closes her menu and feigns surprise. “Since when does the Golden Pillar do ‘build your own omelet’? What will the regulars say?”
She stands to greet me just as Miller strolls toward us, ushering me to my chair. “Miller, tell my daughter that the Golden Pillar presents only cutting-edge cuisine. That means staying up with the times, and giving the people what they want. Wouldn’t want to be … oh, what do the kids say? … cringe!”
Ever the gentleman, Miller nods toward Mercury. “What your mother means is that we went through a rethinking of our offerings and, it turns out, some changes were in order. I think we’ve hit a nice stride now. Coffee, Madam?”
I nod in his direction and he walks off as I turn to my daughter. “So.” I fold my hands in my lap. “Did Lindy go?”
She nods. “Yep.”
“Did he take the boat?”
She nods. “Yep.”
I grin in her direction. “I see … so, would you like to come stay with me for a spell? You can have the whole East Wing. I rarely visit over there.”
“Well,” she says, crossing her legs dramatically. “Thought you’d never ask. This place is too rich for my blood.”
“Oh, well, how much did you pay for that room again?” I say, laughing. (She, of course, did not pay anything.)
Miller arrives with my coffee. “Madam, here you are … extra cream and sugar.”
“Extra cream and sugar now?” Mercury seems quite mortified. “Is there coffee in there, too, or just hot, white, sweet … ick. Miller, help me out here. Isn’t that just gross?”
Miller grins in her direction. “I serve at the pleasure of the Madam,” he says, then winks in my direction. He bows and strolls away.
Where would I be without MIller?
I pour my coffee, and Mercury takes a deep breath. With her mug in her hand, she sits back in her chair.
“Go ahead, Mother … I know you want to say it, so just say it.”
I shake my head. “Look, I’m not saying a word … I’m terribly sad, and above all concerned about you … about him … about this town … “
I pause and catch a glimpse of Mercury’s face. I can’t swear to it, but I think there’s a tear in her eye.
“Darling, I just have so much on my mind. I am very happy, though, that the most important thing on my mind will be in my house, so I can worry about her in person.”
Mercury nods. “Okay,” and this time she actively swipes a tear from her face, so my mother’s intuition is confirmed. “I think I’m going to pass on the big breakfast,” she says, looking at her watch. “There’s a lot going on at the office today, and I just don’t think I can spare the time. I’ll grab something at the Courthouse with Silas.”
Classic Mercury, burying herself in work. It is, as it always has been, her way.
I lean forward as she puts on her coat. “He has a lot on his mind, Merc … that dreadful Carson, who no one has seen or heard from in weeks. I have to guess this means the magazine is off the table –”
“Yes, Mother, the magazine is off the table. Lindy’s out.”
“ – so, then, I’m right. Maybe he’s got some regrouping to do … and you, you’re back in the saddle at work. Men aren’t great at handling change, dear, but this … well, this is all a lot of change!”
My phone rings. Shirley Scott’s name appears on my handset.
“I’ll let you be, Mother … I should go anyway …”
“No, sit, we’re not done. Just let me get this. … Hello? … Ah, yes, hello Shirley. How can I help you this morning? … Okay … Okay … Wow, that’s amazing. … Well, certainly, many thanks for passing that along. Will we see you at Book Club next week? Cassie’s having quite the spread for us … wonderful! So glad to hear. Thank you again for the call. Enjoy the day!”
Mercury leans in for a final sip of coffee. “Who was that?”
I smile. “Well that was one Shirley Scott, the realtor? You remember her. Crazy family beget an even crazier daughter? Anyway, it seems Elyse Hughes paid her a visit already this morning. She’s selling Carson’s house!”
Mercury places her briefcase on the ground so as to process the information. “So he’s gone-gone then.”
I nod. “Not coming back.”
“I better get into the office and let Silas know. Not sure what this means, but it’s certainly odd.” She stands up and reaches for me. “Thank you, Mother.”
“Oh …” I am suddenly quite distracted. “Of course, dear. I’ll see you tonight. Miller may be by for a spell. Tuesdays are usually our card-playing nights.”
She walks away, and I’m left with my thoughts as Miller approaches.
“Breakfast Madam?”
I shake my head. “No, Miller. Not now. Do you … do you know anything about Carson Sigmund?”
“No, Ma’am, nothing. Certainly he’s been in here with Ms. Hughes from time to time, but my understanding is that they spend more time at the Riverside. … Is everything alright?”
I can feel the pressure mounting in my head. “No,” I say, standing up. I grab my purse. “But they will be this evening. Seven o’clock sharp … and bring your wallet, dear boy! It’s gonna be a wild ride!”
Gunnar Olafsson