The Lincoln Penny Page 2

  CHAPTER THREE

  “You do what?” Jane washes down her last bite of nutty granola bar with lukewarm Starbucks coffee left over from her trip into work. Her co-worker is busy tackling a pile of documents on her desk. She has just been assigned to the preservation project team for Old House Museum in Savannah’s historic district.

  “I belong to a group of reenactors. Come on, don’t act so surprised,” Sophie Downing giggles. It is easy to tell she is pleased about sharing something that caught Jane completely unaware. The two had been working together for a while. Other than now, the reenacting thing hadn’t come up in conversation.

  Jane knows about reenactors, but never pictured Sophie as one, “What do you reenact?” After all, there are reenactors for just about every significant period in history, from Vikings to Pirates, the American Revolution to the Civil War to World Wars I and II.

  “The Civil War, of course,” Sophie drawls in her most sugary southern accent. “Mah husben’ and I happily take our plesha a few weekends a year. Mostly in the spring and fall when tha weatha’s nice.”

  When they say opposites attract, you couldn’t find two more opposite people than Jane and Sophie. Unlike Jane’s quiet and conscientious personality, Sophie is a vivacious, outgoing twenty-seven year old with ambition and a quick wit. She has the type of personality that turns heads when she walks into a room. Having curves in all the right places doesn’t hurt either. You know, the kind of body and style that makes all the guys take a second glance.

  Sophie’s childhood was spent traveling the world with her family as an Army brat. Kid Nomad is how she jokingly describes her young self. Her dad’s career as a major in the Armed Forces generally meant moving the family to a new duty station every two or three years. Whenever tongues clucked about the lack of stability she had growing up, Sophie would smile tolerantly. Truth is, she absolutely loved the experience and believed the benefits of growing up in other countries and among other cultures far outweighed the drawbacks.

  While her travels abroad gave Sophie a completely different perspective on life she would not trade for anything in the world, moving from place to place did, however, created a deficit. A dearth in forming long-term relationships. This grew obvious when an early marriage, which started with the best intentions, ended up slapping her with a “failed” label and tainted dreams. It was just after the young divorcee became totally convinced holy matrimony was an outdated tradition she didn’t need, when Sophie’s true soulmate came along.

  Benjamin Downing literally swept her off her feet, as the old cliché goes. After a whirlwind courtship and steamy romance — champagne, fireworks, long walks in the park, flowers, song, and all that jazz — it was time to give marriage another try. Sophie wears a modest half-carat diamond solitaire and simple platinum band on her left hand. It encircles her third finger where her Ben says the ancient Egyptians believed the vein of love runs directly to the heart. Sophie promises, this time it’s for keeps. And anyone who sees the couple together would agree, she is as they say in England, spot on.

  Jane met Sophie right after she started her job in Savannah. Everything was so new and she needed a friend, someone to talk to. Leaving Vidalia and making life-altering decisions was not the easiest thing for her, but “come hell or high water,” as Bryce put it, Jane was determined to make it on her own. This was a new beginning. And anyway, you can’t live at home forever, right?

  The year or so prior to Jane’s relocation to Savannah was a tough one. To her parent’s chagrin, she made a totally uncharacteristic move by dropping out of college in the middle of her junior year as an Art History major, and dropping out of a yearlong relationship with her not-so-serious boyfriend. Her family was encouraged to see Jane show interest in someone other than Bryce, and in fact, was quite taken with the guy. Personally, Jane was not. To her, Gage was a disappointment. What feelings she might have had at the start, the essence of budding love full of song and promise, turned to discord and swiftly withered and died on the vine. In the end, she had made up her mind it was an utter waste of time.

  On top of that, the whole living at home thing wasn’t doing it for Jane any more. Although she seldom complained about her mundane lifestyle, rarely testing limits, never a burden, and respecting family rules, adult living at home didn’t make an ideal situation. Jane is crazy about her dad and all the things they have done together, but sorry to say, her poor manic mom was driving her crazy. Without a doubt she loves her deeply, but no matter how much Jane tried she had never been able to find common ground, the happy zone with her mom.

  One day Jane woke up and, as simple as brewing her morning coffee and popping a bagel into the toaster, decided this was no way to live. She needed a change. A complete one-eighty. Time to break the mold, take a big jump even if it felt like a free fall, and introduce her folks to the life of empty nesters.

  It was an epiphany of sorts. A striking realization she was free to do what she wanted with her life, to live it her way and not as others would expect. For a total of fourteen months and twenty-six days Jane tested her skill in creating the perfect resume, threw herself into two jobs, and gave new meaning to a shoestring budget. During the week, she worked at the Vidalia-Toombs County Library in town, and on weekends, the community animal shelter. If there was overtime to be had, she was the first to volunteer. Just short of twirling a sign on the corner of Main and Jackson, she was open to just about anything that would help her achieve her new desire for independence.

  Of course, Jane’s dad could always use an extra hand at the shop. As soon as he got wind his daughter had hit the refresh button, Art insisted on paying Jane for the hours she put in.

  Art was a little surprised at Jane’s change in direction, but he trusted his daughter’s good sense and wanted to support her in any way possible. “Sometimes you need a new lease on life, a new direction,” he would easily explain. Art knew his daughter well and he felt it was a matter of time. Vidalia, the people and life in their small town wouldn’t be enough for his Janie. When her closest friend went off to university it sort of sealed the deal. There was nothing to keep Jane from setting out on her own.

  About the same time Jane had saved up enough money to be able to stand on her own two feet, and as luck would have it, she landed her dream job. She would start work as a research assistant for the well-established architectural firm, Copperfield and Brine, headquartered in Savannah, Georgia. The firm specializes in conservation work and the historical preservation of heritage sites, national trust properties, churches, and historic houses. It is the perfect job in a field that Jane loves. It will even help pay for her to finish college, which she has on her bucket list among other items like, make a snowman, learn how to play the violin, marry and have children, travel to Stonehenge, and book a sleep-over at the Smithsonian National Museum of American History.

  Jane follows Sophie into an adjacent room where a lot of important files are kept in massive fireproof cabinets. She waits patiently for her co-worker to take a quick call before she can finally ask, “How in the world did you get involved in the Civil War thing? I don’t see you as the type.” It seemed like a strange combination. From shopping the fashionable Paris Champs Élysées Sophie so buoyantly described, to roughing it in a homemade replica of nineteenth century women’s clothing. Doesn’t fit somehow.

  Although Jane had never known a reenactor personally, she is familiar with reenactments. And Savannah certainly has its share of tour guides dressed in period costumes. They are permanent fixtures around the city. Jane had even applied for a job at one of the more popular tour companies one time just for kicks. The small business said they were looking for someone who had actually grown up in the city, so it didn’t pan out.

  “Will you hold this a minute? Thanks.” Sophie hands Jane a couple of folders and with an armful herself, they head back to Sophie’s desk. “It was Ben’s doing. His father is a reenactor so he’s been around it a good part of his life. When we met, I wasn’t enti
rely interested, although it ended up being something we both really enjoy doing together. There are a lot of husbands and wives in the group and just as many singles. Just a bunch of people, all kinds, who love living history. Ah! Here they are!” Satisfied she had found what she was looking for, Sophie grabs up a number of papers and wheels over to the printer to scan them onto her desktop.

  The two girls talk more during their brief fifteen-minute break and then again at lunch.

  Sophie has never seen Jane get so excited about anything, much less over a bunch of grown ups that get together on the weekends to play make believe. She could tell starting a new job in a new place on her own had been a real stretch for Jane and honestly, Sophie admires her spunk for making such a radical move. A hobby is what Jane needs.

  After emptying her tray and tossing an empty Sprite Zero can into the recycle bin, Sophie extends an invitation, “You can see what it’s all about, firsthand. We always welcome people who have a love of history and want to give it a try. It’s like stepping back in time. You’ll see. An event is coming up soon . . . next month, in fact. And the lucky part, it’s not far from here. Fort Clinch in Fernandina Beach is a great starter event. Not too hard.”

  Contrary to Jane’s philosophy, never make quick decisions on the spur of the moment, she leaps, “Are you sure, because I’d really like to go.” OMG! What in the world am I thinking? Going to Florida. Really! She tingles with renewed excitement she hasn’t felt in a while. It’s time to mix it up a bit. Time to try another something new.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The phone rings and she recognizes the number the instant it appears on the liquid-crystal display. Jane quickly hits ‘Save’ on her desktop and takes the call. “Copperfield and Brrr . . . oops, sorry Dad! It’s a habit,” she laughs apologetically and takes him off speaker. “It is so good to hear from you!”

  “How are you, honey?” Art drawls on the other end in a velvety baritone; the resonate voice of an announcer that Jane adores.

  He sounds okay. Still, all Jane’s alarms go off. “Is Mom okay? Are you okay,” she asks in a child-like whimper.

  “We are both fine, Carrot,” Art quickly reassures. “I’m so sorry to bother you at your job.”

  “Don’t be silly. Please Dad, bother me any time.” Jane smiles into the mouthpiece, while she is thinking all the time her dad hasn’t used his pet name for her in ages. The name that signified he was about to let her down easy. “Carrot, there’s no park today. Carrot, Mom wants you to clean your room first. Carrot, no TV until your grades improve. Carrot, that’s a restriction, hand over the car keys.” Not good. Without a doubt, something’s up.

  “Can you get away for lunch with your old Dad? I’m in town today.”

  “Are you kidding? Of course!”

  Jane meets her dad right before noon at the popular Fancy Fork Diner down the street.

  “Dad! You look great. I’ve missed you so much!” She gives him a warm smile and a big hug. “So what’s up?” There’s no use beating around the bush. Her dad hadn’t been to Savannah in a number of weeks and although they had caught dinner and a movie on a couple of his visits, meeting for lunch was not the usual routine. Both are pretty busy with their work during the day and Jane usually packs her lunch to save money.

  “Can’t a dad come and see his one and only daughter once in a while without getting the first degree?” Art grins and eyeballs the room for a place to sit.

  “For real.” Jane bumps her dad playfully, follows his directive and slides into the empty booth by the front picture window. Her dad joins her on the opposite side of the table. The two peruse their menus. They are very much in sync and it is hard for either one of them to concentrate.

  Jane orders a burger, medium-well and fully involved, fries and a Coke. Art quickly adds, “Same here . . . make that one check please.”

  In the minutes following, Art casually rearranges the salt and pepper shakers and napkin holder. Seconds later he is absentmindedly straightening the small table tent that advertises Friday’s Karaoke-Night Specials.

  “What, Dad?” Jane gently coaxes, leaning forward with both elbows on the table.

  With one deep breath expelled in a puff, Art finally looks up to meet his daughter’s watchful expression, “Janie, I hate to tell you this, and there’s no easy way . . . I’ve left your mother.”

  “Oh man,” didn’t see that coming. Butterfly ripples of shock stream through Jane’s body, the kind that make your head buzz and chest tighten. “Dad, I’m so sorry.”

  On the street right outside their window a big white delivery truck, with an airbrushed bouquet of assorted flowers on its side, grabs their attention. It has decided to park in such a way as to completely block the narrow thoroughfare. Drivers in the other cars around it are making a considerable amount of noise, honking and waving their fists.

  “That’s city life for you,” Jane chuckles and rubs her forehead, focusing back on her dad, “Do you feel like telling me what happened? Can you talk about it?”

  Art gives his little girl a steady look. She deserves some kind of explanation, but this is really hard for him. He would never in the world do anything to upset her. Even though kids usually know when their parents are on the skids, and even with Jane all grown up, it still can’t be easy to accept or adjust to.

  “After you left home, your mother hasn’t been quite herself.” Art is thinking it is way more complex than that. He continues on the best way he knows how, “Well, I just think it’s time I moved on. This doesn’t have anything to do with you, honey. We both love you very much, but you must know your mother and I have,” he pauses, having trouble with the words, “you know, differences.” His excuse for breaking up their family makes him sick no matter how he puts it.

  Jane thinks a minute. Sure it’s a shock, yet is it such a big surprise? Not really. Jane’s dad never actually talked much about his marriage and relationship with her mom. Her parents kept that part under wraps, although it’s clear they aren’t very happy. Hadn’t been for a long time. And Jane would be the first to admit her mom has a pretty nasty habit of being impossible at times.

  “How’s Mom taking it?” Jane is suddenly guilty for not checking on them recently. The move to Savannah and learning the ropes at her new job has really been keeping her busy. But that’s no excuse. I should have known something. Been there.

  “She’s going to be okay. Your mother has just about everything. I’m thinking she should get along just fine. Luckily she has that job she likes. And who knows, maybe she’ll be happier. I would want that for her.”

  Jane wonders how her mom is taking it. Kay Peterson always boasts about being fiercely independent and not needing anyone. “I don’t need you, you need me,” is one of her more famous lines when she is having a particularly bad day. In all reality, though, she is the most dependent person Jane has ever known.

  “Where will you go, Dad? You can stay with me, of course! I have an empty bedroom that has your name on it.” Her apartment’s second bedroom is super-teeny, but she is sure they can make it work.

  Art takes a sip of his Coke, smiles at his daughter and reaches across the table to pat Jane’s hand, “There is nothing I would like better than to spend time with you, Jane. But see, you’re a young woman now. Just getting a start in life with the whole world ahead of you. You don’t need your old dad slowing you down.”

  When Jane starts to protest, her dad holds up his hand and continues, “I’ve decided to go see my brother, your goofy Uncle Billy, in Houston. Set up house with him for a spell. He’s by himself, you know.”

  OMG, that’s way too far! Jane is troubled by the thought and thinks maybe, “Can you stay for just a few days then?” She hopes this might give her dad a little time to think about what he’s doing, a sort of cooling down period. Is he so sure it’s the right thing for himself, for all of them?

  “No, honey, I’ve thought about this long and hard and it’s time for me to move on. It’s better this way. You k
now, until the dust settles a bit. If I end up staying in Houston longer than planned, just give the word and I’ll get you the airfare to come see me any time. Your trip out would do us all good. And of course, I’ll need to make it up this way too.”

  Geez, now he’s implying it might be a more permanent thing. “But what about the shop, Dad?” Jane cringes. Dude, what a stupid question! Her dad’s life is falling apart, he is moving hundreds of miles away, giving up everything, and all she can think to ask is what about the business.

  Art’s eyes twinkle understanding and a deep connection to his daughter, “Now don’t you go worrying about that, sweetheart. Larry is real good with things. He’s always been a responsible kind of guy and said he is more than willing to take over for a time. Larry knows the business up one side and down the other. We have an agreement, so it’s all squared. There will be loose ends to tie up, of course. I have all my junk in storage right now.” Art always referred to his treasured collectibles lightly. “One thing’s for sure, you can be a picker just about anywhere. It might be nice having new territory to explore.”

  This isn’t on impulse or because one of her parents stormed out after one of their fights. This isn’t because she left home, which honestly did cross her mind. Instead, it is a serious move on her dad’s part. A well thought out decision and she respects that.

  Jane finishes off the last of her fries. Chewing helps squelch the tightness in her throat. She remembers her own decision to move to Savannah and start her own life, “I guess you need a change too, huh?” Jane gives her dad her best face, stubbornly fighting back the tears working their way to the surface. She grabs her napkin and glances up at the red metallic clock on the wall over the counter. It’s twelve-fifty. Time is up for lunch and ironically, time’s up on her family. As dysfunctional as it has been, it is all she has known and is changed now forever.