Cape Menace by A.M. Reade

Author:A.M. Reade [Reade, A.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pau Hana Publishing

Chapter 11

“I don’t know,” I said. “I have not thought about it yet.”

Richard was silent, perhaps knowing I would continue talking after a time.

“Pappa’s apothecary was his life’s work,” I said. “I would very much dislike seeing it fall into disuse and neglect.”

“I am sure your father would agree with that,” Richard said.

“What do you think I should do?” My question surprised even me. I had not intended to ask Richard’s opinion, but now the question had escaped my lips and was hanging in the air between us.

He raised his eyebrows, evidently as much surprised as I was by the question. After several long moments he spoke.

“I should not offer you advice, but I will share with you my observations. It seems to me that you know the apothecary quite well. Your father must have taught you about his business from an early age.”

“He did,” I agreed.

“And it seems to me that you are quite adept at knowing what remedies to administer under certain circumstances, so you apparently listened well to your father’s instructions and teachings all those years.”

“That is also true.” I sensed where the conversation was going.

“As I said, I cannot provide you with any advice. But I can suggest that you search your heart and try to discern what is there. You may find the answer you seek.”

I looked up at him while I pondered his words. I knew he was telling me that I might consider following my father into the apothecary. But could I, a woman alone, manage such a thing? That would require business acumen I wasn’t sure I possessed.

“There’s something else I would like to ask you, if you don’t have any objection,” Richard said, cutting into my thoughts.

“What is it?” I asked.

He took a deep breath. “The night your father died, I heard what he said to you in his final moments. He beseeched you to find out what happened to your mother.” He stopped talking, as if to ascertain whether I was amenable to discussing such a topic.

I remained silent as I walked beside him, though my body stiffened somewhat. He noticed.

“Is this topic upsetting to you?” he asked anxiously.

“I do not know yet. I do not know where your words are leading,” I replied.

“They are leading to this: would you tell me what happened? Will you tell me what your father was talking about?”

I considered his questions for a long time. Richard may have thought I was ignoring him, but I merely needed time to think about what I would tell him.

I finally decided to tell him the entire story, from the time we knew she was missing to the awful realization that she wasn’t coming home. I told the version of the story which left out the anguish, the sadness, the fear and confusion, but I felt quite sure he sensed those things.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured when I had finished. By the time I had told the story we were at the door of my house. I invited him inside, not caring whether it was appropriate or not.

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