CHAPTER 1

"Sarah Katherine Bowers," boomed the voice over the loud speaker.Sarah, dressed in a black cap and gown, stepped on the stage ofBroughton High School and walked slowly toward Miss Harris,her senior homeroom teacher.

"Congratulations, Sarah," she murmured, handing the girl her diploma.She continued across stage, down the steps and joined her classmates.Before turning and once more facing the stage, she glanced quickly overthe audience, searching for her family. Several rows back she saw hersister, Amy, waving and blowing kisses. Beside Amy sat James and PeggyBowers, proudly watching their older daughter. Her brother, Joshua, attwelve years, seemed self-conscious over his little sister's behavior. Her"Raleigh" grandparents, George and Sylvia Bowers, smiled broadly, andsitting beside them were her mother's parents, Jewel and Tom Mitchell.They arrived that afternoon from Beaufort, NC, bringing with them herfriend, Nancy Russert.

After the ceremony, all were anxious to leave the stifling heat of thecrowded auditorium. "Why don't we go to the Sir Walter Restaurant andhave a nice, cool lunch," suggested James. "I know Sarah's melting underher black cap and gown."

"It's one of the few restaurants that is air conditioned," added Peggy,her blonde curls damp. After taking pictures of Sarah with each familymember, they drove the short distance to the Sir Walter Raleigh Hotel."I'll ride with Granny Jewel and Papa Tom," offered Sarah. "I know he'snot used to big city traffic, and might get lost."

"Me get lost?" her grandfather said, pretending to be indignant. "I'venever been lost in my life. Why, during the Great War, when I was inGermany...."

"Thomas, we don't have time for one of your war stories," interruptedGranny Jewel. "I'm anxious to feel some of this air conditioning we'vebeen hearing about."

"It's just a fad, Jewel," said George Bowers. "People weren't meant tobe cool in summer. Sweating is good for you. It cleanses the pores."

"Nevertheless," sniffed Jewel Mitchell, "I'm curious to know howwarm air can be made cool. I understand cold air can be warmed by a firein the fireplace, but how is it possible to change hot air to cold?"

Each was surprised and pleased by the cool, dry air as they steppedthrough the revolving door. A hostess wearing a black dress with longsleeves seated the family in the stately dining room. The tables were coveredwith heavy damask cloths and matching napkins. Waiters wore black slacksand white jackets. Paintings in ornate gold frames graced every wall.

While each ordered from the menu, Sarah turned to Nancy. "Howdoes it feel to be a high school graduate?"

Nancy, her dark curls framing a pale face, brown eyes and turned upnose, looked determined. "Sarah, it's a stepping stone, nothing more. Ithink of my high school diploma as a ticket to the outside world. I had tofinish high school in order to go to Julliard." Her expression brightened."Can you imagine what it will be like to live in New York City?"

"Oh, Nancy, my happiest memories are of summers spent with mygrandparents on the coast."

"Summers aren't as boring as the cold, bleak winters. If I didn't havemy piano, I'd be utterly miserable." Nancy folded and refolded her napkin."Sarah," she said quietly, "I know I'm not a prodigy, or some kind ofmusical genius, but I can compensate by playing a composition perfectly.I have achieved that by dedication and hard work."

"Have you applied to Julliard?"

"Yes, I've done all the paperwork, and auditioned before a committeein Charlotte, NC."

"That would scare me out of ten year's growth."

"Not if you're disciplined, and ready," replied Nancy, primly.

"How do you think you did?"

"I never missed a note, and my timing was perfect."

The waiter made his way to their table, arms laden with a tray ofdelicious looking food. "I'd like to propose a toast," announced JamesBowers, holding a glass of iced tea. He turned to his older daughter."Congratulations, Sarah. You are a high school graduate. I know it soundstrite to say, but it seems like yesterday you were in pigtails roller skating onthe front walk. The first little boy brave enough to come courting, got asmack on the head with your majorette baton, and I hope you'll keep thatbaton handy until you finish college."

Sarah grinned at her father. "That was the only use I ever got from mybaton. I never made the team in high school."

After the laughter, the father's expression grew solemn. "Sarah, yourmother and I have always felt God blessed us when you came into our lives.We're proud of you, and love you very much."

When father sat, Sarah stood slowly. "I don't want the food to getcold, but I want to say I feel God blessed me by giving me such wonderfulparents, and grandparents. I have grown up surrounded by love, and I hopeas an adult, I will prove worthy of your devotion."

"Me, too!" piped Amy. "My mashed `taters are getting cold."

At home, Sarah turned to her parents. "I don't want to wait until theend of the week to go to Beaufort. If it's all right with you, I'll go homewith Papa Tom and Granny Jewel. Nancy and I can sit in the back seatand get caught up on all the news since last summer."

"I want to go with Papa Tom," declared Joshua when he saw his sister'ssuitcases in the front hall. "It's not fair for her to go and not me."

"Joshua," said his mother at breakfast, "I'm going to need you to gowith Amy and me at the end of the week. If something happens to the car,I'll feel better having a man along."

Pleased by his mother's words, Joshua sat straighter, wearing a smugexpression. "Sarah wouldn't be much help in an emergency."

After several tries, Papa Tom successfully closed the trunk lid. "Shewon't hold another thing, ladies. If there are any more suitcases, you'llhave to sit on them."

"Phew," breathed Sarah, leaning her head back on the seat. "I hatesaying goodbye. I won't see Daddy until the Fourth of July, because he'sso busy at Bower's Chemical Company. Even then he can only get awayfor a few days."

Soon, the city of Raleigh was far behind. Sarah, watching the fieldsof corn and tobacco race by, felt herself relax. Cool, country air poured inthe open windows. In the front seat, her grandparents were singing alongwith a melody on the car radio. Granny Jewel turned and looked at the twoyoung women in the back seat. "Sarah, do you remember last summer wetalked about giving Joshua your little room behind the kitchen?"

"I do remember. You said I could have the front room across the hallfrom your bedroom."

Granny Jewel turned, almost facing the back seat. "Well, dear," she saidenthusiastically, "Mr. Fuller, with Mackie's help, painted your little roombehind the kitchen a medium blue that reminds you of an autumn sky.I stored your flowered bedspread and curtain in the attic in a cardboardbox. I knew pink flowers wouldn't be suitable for a boy. When the plasterhad been repaired in what is now your room, your grandfather, Mr. Fuller,Mackie and I decided on a creamy beige for the walls, with white for thewood trim and mantle."

"Gosh," interrupted Sarah. "How were you able to get four people todecide on the same color?"

"That was easy, honey," spoke Papa Tom. "Mr. Fuller, his son Mackieand I were discussing the color. I wanted dark green with white trim. Mr.Fuller chose a light gray, and Mackie insisted on a bright yellow. Yourgrandmother heard us arguing, took the paint chart and pointed herdainty finger at a color chip that looks like mud at low tide. "This is thecolor," she declared. "Mr. Fuller, you may begin painting any time."

Sarah leaned forward, patting her grandfather's shoulder. "With suchhigh ceilings and big windows, dark green walls would have been verydramatic. How do you like the new color?"

"Well, Princess, it's not exactly the color of mud, more like a sandybeach."

"Sarah," Granny Jewel continued, "we hung new shades, and sheerwhite panels which reach the floor. Ramie polished the brass bed, and itis dazzling in the morning sunlight."

"I know I'll love it, Granny Jewel, especially since you planned it."

Sarah turned to her friend. "Nancy, catch me up on all the news. Howis Leland? Is he still doing portraits?"

"He stays busy. All mothers want him to do their children's portraits,and he photographs almost every wedding. I know he'll be busy now,because June is such a popular month for weddings." Nancy glanced at herfriend. "Do you remember our portraits on display in the window? Well,all his clients hope their picture will be in the window."

"What became of our pictures?"

Nancy's eyes grew big, her hands across her chest. Sarah knew from thisdramatic gesture earth-shaking information was forth coming. "Sarah,"she whispered, "do you remember the wall behind the desk as you firstwalk in? He hung one of his mother's oil paintings there when the studiofirst opened."

"Yes, I remember."

Nancy lowered her voice and leaned closer. "He has all your picturesin a group. The one of you staring at the camera through a stand of seaoats, he enlarged. It hangs in the center. The other poses hang around it.My favorite is you standing in ankle deep water, listening to the oceanthrough a conch shell."

"He did lovely pictures of you at the piano. Where are theyhanging?"

Nancy snorted. "My pictures are nowhere in sight. Of course, I haven'tchecked the walls of the bathroom."

"Nancy! That's a terrible thing to say!"

"Not only that," Nancy continued, "every time he sees me, he asksabout you. He doesn't say, `Hi, Nancy, how are you today?' Oh, no! Thefirst thing he says is, `Have you heard from Sarah? Is she going to spendthis summer in Beaufort?' So, one day, during Easter, I said, `I don't knowhow Sarah is doing, Leland, but I'm doing just fine, and I plan to be inBeaufort all summer, just like every summer. Thanks for asking.'"

Sarah stifled a giggle. "What did he say?"

"He turned, and walked away." Nancy slowly shook her head. "He'sa strange one."

"I agree. There's only one Leland."

"Oh, something strange happened last Sunday."

"What was that?"

"I decided to walk to church since it was such a pretty day. I passedthe house where your cousin Marnie stays summers and saw a car in thedriveway with Greenville tags. Before I could continue, someone called myname. I looked up and saw her sitting in the window. She was holding thecurtain so all I could see was her face. "When is Sarah coming down?" sheasked, never saying `hello', or "How are you, Nancy?"

"What did you tell her?" asked Sarah, filled with dread.

"I told her you were coming soon after graduation. She said, `Tell SarahI have to see her.' So, I told you."

"I hope she'll soon be going home. If she stays, my summer will beruined. How could she think I'd speak to her after last summer! I can'tstand her," Sarah hissed.

For the next ten miles, the girls lapsed into silence. The breeze pouringin the windows grew steadily warmer, giving the promise of a hot summerday.

When they reached Kinston, Papa Tom said, "Let's stop for a colddrink."

"That's a good idea, honey. Let's find a drug store with the penguinsaying, `It's kool inside.' I'm beginning to like this air conditioning."

While they were enjoying a tall glass of ice cold Coca-Cola, Sarahstared through the large window at her grandparents' automobile. It wouldsoon be a year old and still looked as it did the first day she saw it in theshowroom of Paul Motor Co. on Front Street in Beaufort.

"Papa Tom, are you glad you bought that beautiful car? Do you regretnot buying a plain, practical one?"

"Let me answer that," spoke Granny Jewel. "He spends every Saturdaysweeping out imaginary dirt...."

"Let me interrupt," said the grandfather, "Do not refer to that finemachine as an `it.' Please say, `she.'"

"Yes, dear," said Granny Jewel patiently. "Anyway, he sweeps and duststhe inside, then washes the outside. Does he use plain old soap and waterlike we do? Heavens, no! He has a bottle of special soap from the hardwarestore, guaranteed to preserve `her' shiny red paint. He has a special brushand another kind of soap to wash `her' white-walled tires. The woodenparts on the doors and trunk are rubbed down with a special polish usedon the wooden decks of fancy yachts."

"Does your car have a name, Mr. Mitchell? All boats have names, andyour car should have one, too," instructed Nancy.

"If `she' wasn't made of wood, metal and rubber, I would be jealous,"said Granny Jewel, stirring her drink with a paper straw. "There are timeswhen I can think of many names I'd like to call `her.'"

Nancy sipped her drink daintily and declared, "We must think of aname for that glamorous creature. Who wants to go first?"

No one spoke for a few minutes. "OK, then I will." Nancy stared at thecar gleaming in the sunlight. "I think her name should be, `Spirit,' becauseshe lifts her owner's spirits when he goes driving."

"That's very poetic, Nancy." Papa Tom looked around the table. "Arethere any other suggestions?"

"`Strumpet' comes to mind," said Granny Jewel wryly.

"Oh, my, Mrs. Mitchell," breathed Nancy her eyes like saucers. "Isn'tthat a little harsh?"

"When a husband's head is turned by a gorgeous younger woman,that name fits perfectly," returned Granny Jewel, glancing at the driverof the car.

"My mind is blank," said Sarah. "All I can think of is what Clara isfixing right now for our lunch. We have the whole summer to find a namethat fits."

Two hours later, Tom Mitchell turned onto Marsh Street. As theystopped in front of a charming Victorian cottage, the screen door opened,and Nancy's mother, Mrs. Cora, stepped out. "How was your trip? Was ithot in Raleigh? Did Sarah graduate with honors? Nancy did, you know."

"Our trip was fine, Cora, and yes, it is hot in Raleigh, and Sarahgraduated with honors. We're very proud of both girls."

Remembering her manners, Nancy turned to her friend's grandparents."Thank you for a lovely visit. It's such a treat to go to the city." She turnedto her mother. "Did I get a letter from Julliard?"

"Not yet, honey, but it will probably come tomorrow."

"Good luck, Nancy," said Sarah, hugging her friend. "Call and let meknow when you hear something."

"Clara!" called Sarah stepping in the wide, front hall of her grandparent'sstately Victorian home. Her sandals slapped against the wooden floor asshe hurried toward the kitchen.

"Whose lovely voice do I hear? It must be an angel calling my name."Clara appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, drying her hands on thehem of her apron. "Lordy, child! I didn't think it was possible for you toget any prettier, but you did! Come give old Clara a big hug."

Sarah rushed into the waiting arms of Clara Parks, the Mitchell's cookand trusted friend. The girl was shocked to realize she was now taller thanthe woman she had loved and feared her whole life.

"Where are my other two babies? You didn't leave them in Raleigh,did you?"

Sarah laughed. "As a matter of fact, we did! I couldn't wait anotherminute to get here, so I came with Papa Tom and Granny Jewel. Mama,Amy and Joshua will be coming in a few days."

"Humph," snorted Clara, "I'm surprised you could talk that boy intocoming later. He ain't happy unless his shoes are in the closet and he's gota fishing pole in his hand."

Sarah smiled. "Mama told him she'd feel safer if there was a man in thecar when she drives down. You could see him struggling, but he couldn'tresist being considered a `man.'"

"I can see him now, chest all puffed out, firing orders at your motherand little sister."

"Don't worry, Mama will take him down a notch or two if he gets toobossy." Sarah looked at the dining room table. "Clara, don't tell me youmade creamy, thick clam chowder with your special corn bread that hasreal corn."

"I certainly did. After two whole days of eating up-state, I knew yourgrandparents would need some fresh seafood."

"Clara," said Sarah hugging the older woman again. "I have to helpPapa Tom unload the car. I can't let him lug my suitcases upstairs to my'new' bedroom."

"Oh, Child," said Clara, lowering her voice. "You can't imagine howyour granny has fussed over that room. After Mr. Fuller finished painting,she got busy washing windows and hanging new curtains. Every few daysshe'd holler downstairs, 'Clara, can you stop what you're doin' and comeup here? I want your opinion on something.' So, I'd go dragging up there,fussing about how was I supposed to cook meals from way upstairs? 'Clara,'she'd say, 'it has to be a room befitting a young lady. Our Sarah isn't alittle girl anymore.'"