Page 85 of The Missing Pages
“It’s a necessary excursion,” she said. “I’m not sure I’ll be coming back to Philadelphia again, and I just need to make sure I make it there.” Then, a bit quieter, she continued, “And, actually, my train is not until six o’clock. I must have misspoke earlier with Dr. Rosenbach.”
Ada watched the Pennsylvania landscape unfurl outside the taxi’s window. As the city vanished in the distance, she welcomed the sight of canopied roads created by verdant budding trees and first bulbs of spring. As they approached Elkins Park, the taxicab slowed down.
“I’ve actually not been out this far in quite some time,” the driver said. “It sure is pretty. Makes sense you’d have to have a lot of money to live out here.”
“I’m sure,” she said.
“The Widener family is one of the richest around,” he said. “This house was in all the papers when it was completed. Largest mansion in the whole area. Like Buckingham Palace.” He let out a big laugh. “Never been to England, so you’ll have to tell me which one is nicer.”
“I would suspect King George’s,” she said, “but I haven’t been inside there, either. So your guess is as good as mine.” She smiled.
“So terrible about their tragedy,” the driver mused. “Father and son lost at sea. Guess the adage is true. When you come right down to it, there’s just some things that money can’t buy.”
After a few more minutes’ drive, he slowed down the cab as it approached the black iron gates.
“Well, this is it, Miss.”
The enormous neoclassical facade was impressive. Built in limestone with a Palladian roofline and two majestic columns flanking the door, it stretched out across the vast manicured acreage like a falcon spreading its wings.
“I’ve taken you as close to it as I can,” the driver said. “Unless, of course, you have an appointment with the Wideners.”
Ada eyed the small gatekeeper’s house that ensured no unwanted guests entered.
“No, unfortunately I don’t. But I needed to see it,” she sighed. “It meant so much to someone I loved.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
The next morning, Violet decided to stop in and see Lottie at the flower shop. Over the past couple months, she had popped in every now and then to thank Lottie for helping her pick out the weekly flower delivery. Now, with Thanksgiving coming at the end of the week, she wanted to make sure that tomorrow’s arrangement reflected the warmth of the holiday, even if she would be heading to Philadelphia in the afternoon and unable to see it.
A little bell on the door sounded her arrival, and Lottie came out from behind the back in her green work smock holding a bushel of bells of Ireland.
“Violet!” she said. “Aren’t you a lovely sight to see!”
“Thank you, Lottie. It’s always nice to see you and all of your flowers…” Her eyes fell on the refrigerator case with buckets of long-stemmed roses in different hues and asters, dahlias, and lily of the valley.
“And it always smells so good here!”
Lottie’s blue eyes sparkled beneath her crop of short white hair. “The two best places to work are a bakery and a flower shop for just that reason.”
“True,” Violet agreed. “I was just in Leavitt and Peirce yesterday, and that was an entirely different set of aromas.”
“Ah, another fixture of Harvard Square. I’m glad it’s stood the test of time. My grandfather and father both got their tobacco fromthere…” she reminisced. “But I’m getting distracted. What do you want to order for tomorrow’s bouquet, love?”
“Well, in the spirit of Mrs. Widener’s affection for her son, I wanted this week’s flowers to feel extra special for the holiday.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, my dear. I couldn’t agree more. Flowers have their own language, don’t they?”
“Yes,” Violet agreed. “And you’re far more fluent than I am.”
“Why thank you. That’s very kind! So let me see… what would I make if I wanted to honor my son’s memory on Thanksgiving?” She pondered her own question. “Well, I do have some ranunculus that came in this morning.” She put the bells of Ireland down on the brown paper that was rolled out on her workstation and went to the back. A few minutes later she returned, clasping a bunch of ranunculus in burgundy, magenta, and gold. “We could make an arrangement with some astilbe and a little thistle. It would be beautiful.”
Seeing the delicate, jewel-colored blooms in Lottie’s hand, Violet instantly knew it was just perfect.
“Would you like me to send it over at the end of today? I know we normally deliver it to you all on Wednesdays, but you’re probably leaving tomorrow for the break?”
“That would be perfect,” Violet said. “Madeline usually doesn’t want anyone delivering the bouquet to the room but me. So I was going to have to ask her to pick them up at the front desk and take them inside. This is much easier.”
“Wonderful,” Lottie remarked. “It’s a shame they still haven’t found that person who’s been destroying those books in the library. I read that article in theGlobeabout the police coming to investigate.”
