"Martha Looks Back"
  

Martha stared in dismay as Mrs. Muir closed the front door behind herself.  The echo of her employer's too cheerful parting words sounded in her ears.  ‘You have enough to do with your packing and the kids are going to have to get used to my cooking anyway.'  What had happened to the tearful woman who had hugged her so closely just yesterday afternoon when Evelyn had first phoned to say that Martha was needed in Florida to live with and take care of their mother?

"Well," said Martha out loud, "it's nice to leave a family that doesn't cry its eyes out."  But her own eyes were pricking
suspiciously.  She wondered how she was going to bear leaving the Muirs and Schooner Bay.  Well, it wouldn't be THAT hard leaving Schooner Bay — the place was a far cry from Philadelphia!  And Gull Cottage was ... different.  No, she wouldn't miss the place quite so much as she knew she was going to miss Mrs. Muir and her two children.     This moping about would never do!  Martha instantly dialed Claymore's number.  Maybe if she invited him up tonight, she would feel a little better about leaving.

But a few minutes later, Martha hung up, dejected again.  In the beginning, Claymore had sounded properly upset about her imminent departure.  Then he had checked his calendar and had promptly declared that he found himself tied up, so would mail out her policy to her.  So much for THAT ‘dear friend'!

Taking a deep breath, Martha dialed Ed's number.  Although she was under no real illusion about Ed's feelings for her versus her cherry pie, his attention was very flattering.  Alas, Ed, too, was busy.  He had said he would drop by ‘if he had the chance' today, otherwise would call in the morning.  As she hung up, Martha thought sarcastically to herself, ‘Don't strain yourself -- pie doesn't mail well... let alone go over phone lines.'  It would serve Ed right if she never made him a cherry pie again!  Her resolution wavered.  She WOULDN'T be making him one!  A sob caught in Martha's throat.

Then the phone rang.  Maybe it was Ed calling back to say he had changed his mind!  Martha picked it up quickly.  Long distance.  It was her sister again, sounding almost hysterical.

"Martha, please, we need you earlier!  Harry thinks he should leave tonight!!  I don't know why they leave everything until the last minute to tell us!  We can't possibly be ready in time, and Mother is just being impossible!  She thinks we're simply abandoning her to die, and she won't believe that you'll be here tomorrow!  Please, Martha, can you come earlier?"

"Earlier?" Martha's heart sank.  But years of looking after her younger sister and the rest of her family were ingrained in her. 
"Well, I suppose I can get a plane this afternoon.  I guess I'm  not needed here as much as I thought."

"Oh, THANK you, Martha!  I knew we could count on you!  You're so steady and dependable!"

As Martha walked into the living room, she reflected on Evelyn's words.  Steady and dependable.  What wouldn't she give to be called exciting and wild?  The ‘last of the red hot mamas'?  But no, she was steady and dependable.  Plodding.  Boring.  It had always been this way.  Harry and Evelyn had travelled the world with their family.  He had joined the Navy to see the world, and he certainly had!  Martha had remained at home to look after her mother who was ailing and couldn't be left alone.  Finally Harry had become the Chief Petty Officer in Pensacola, Florida.  Evelyn had consented to take their mother, and Martha was "free".  But after all this time being housebound, she didn't know how to do anything but cook and clean and
look after people!  So she had applied to an agency and, for almost eight years, found various jobs as a housekeeper.  Then, two and half years ago, Mrs. Muir had gone to the agency.  Martha had been between jobs at the time, and the two hit it off instantly.  Looking after children was different than caring for the elderly.  They certainly MOVED a lot faster!  And as for Mrs. Muir ...

Martha blustered a lot, she knew, but she harboured a very sentimental streak that not even her family had seen very often.  She
had learned to love the Muirs so deeply that she would have done anything for them.  She had learned to live in Gull Cottage, hadn't she?  And put up with the drafts and the faulty window and door latches, the strange noises that Mrs. Muir assured her were part and parcel of old houses?  Why, she would even miss dusting "that ogre"! 

Martha's gaze rose to the portrait of Captain Gregg.  From the stories she had heard about the old goat, he'd have paid no attention whatsoever to her.  Except to maybe call her a confounded nuisance if she happened to be in his way.  He had been a womanizer and a philanderer, without a doubt!  Yet she admitted that Mrs. Muir had had the right of it, calling him a magnificent man.  Jonathan had certainly built up a real friendship with his imaginary pal!  In fact, now that Martha thought about it, Candy had begun playing those games with Jonathan in the last year.  Even Mrs. Muir humoured him.  Just a little too much, in Martha's humble opinion.  Him and his wanting a special birthday cake and party for the Captain!!  Martha confessed to
herself that eating too much mince pie before bed this past Christmas had brought on such a vivid dream about the portrait that she could almost swear she would know the man anywhere!  What a shame she couldn't have stayed asleep until the wedding ... she would have liked to see Mrs. Muir married to a man such as he!  At least then Martha would know the family would be properly looked after when she was gone.

Knowing she should begin to pack, Martha absentmindedly went into her room and sat on her bed, thinking again of her employer.  Mrs. Muir was beautiful, but clueless.  Well, about a lot of practical things like cooking, that is!  She was willing to try to fix water pipes and gas heaters, but mechanics wasn't her forte either.  Nor was changing car tires, or even valves!  She WAS a good writer, though, Martha conceded.  With a grin, she remembered her favourite story, ‘Maiden Voyage", that Mrs. Muir had written, then acted as if she had never seen it before when it finally came out!  What a fuss over a perfectly lovely story.  A little risque, of course, and not exactly what she would have expected from an apparently sedate, demure widow
like Mrs. Muir.  But Martha's opinion of writers wasn't high at the best of times.

Mrs. Muir, of course, was different.  Oh, she had many of the eccentric habits usually attributed to writers.  She seemed to float
around in a dream world half the time.  She talked to herself, and very often didn't make sense when she did.  It was as if she was holding half a conversation!  Very puzzling to be sure, but it all endeared her to Martha.  Because when she was paying attention, Mrs. Muir was the kindest, most caring person Martha had ever encountered.  She seemed to genuinely sympathize with what Martha was thinking and feeling.  Until today, that is.  No one else in Martha's family had ever bothered to find out.

When Martha had flown to San Francisco to organize the final details and attend her niece's wedding, Mrs. Muir had urged her to go, had helped her pack, and had been so very glad to see her back!   Mrs. Muir had even tried to further Martha's futile romance with Dr. Rodman -- a man so tied up in his momma's apron strings that he'd never be weaned!  She had tried to encourage Martha by praising her good points ... her FEW good points, Martha thought grimly.  Well, at least Mrs. Muir hadn't said she was steady and dependable!  SHE had concentrated on the "warm, witty" aspects.  And being a good cook!

Martha had often had to cover for Mrs. Muir when she "went off in one of her writer's fits" -- mooning about the place and talking about bygone days, cotillions and such nonsense.  The past seemed to fascinate her.  When Schooner Bay had put on a Centennial Day, Mrs. Muir had thrown herself enthusiastically into the project.  Martha conceded that she had enjoyed it as well.  It had made her feel young again.  To be honest, younger than she had ever been.  Usually she was steady and dependable.

Gritting her teeth, Martha got up from the side of the bed.  She would NOT carry on like this!  So what if it seemed that the Muirs  were going to be quite able to carry on without her -- without even MISSING her?  Then she caught sight of the picture of the Muirs which stood on her dresser.  She picked it up, and said aloud, "At least I'm going to miss YOU!" and the tears came.  She sobbed for a moment, letting some of the pain out.

As she put one of her dresses into her old, battered suitcase, Scruffy pushed open the door and bounded up onto the bed.  He whined a little, then proceeded to do some of his tricks.  No doubt he had sensed her mood and wanted to cheer her up.

"Well, it's nice to know ONE member of this family cares I'm leaving." Martha spoke to him.  "Oh, you sweet thing!"  She reached over and hugged him, her tears falling onto his fur.  Scruffy wriggled free and ran out.

Returning to her packing, Martha suddenly stopped, confused.  Hadn't she just packed her dark blue print dress?  Where was it?  She looked under a pile of tops, then back at the closet.  No, there it was, still on the door.  Frowning, Martha turned to get the dress, and began to fold it neatly.  Again she halted, her incredulous gaze on the suitcase.  Now the tops weren't there.  Where had she put them?  She looked over at the bureau, and found them in their usual drawer.  She was so upset, she had no idea what she was doing!  Shaking her head, Martha muttered to herself, "I should have listened to that employment agency ten years ago.  ‘One family's the same as another!  Don't get attached!'" She looked at the picture again, and her sobs overwhelmed her once more.

Scruffy came scooting back into the room, and with one hand she patted his head, crying into her handkerchief.   Then came a voice which at first she foolishly attributed to Scruffy, so dumfounded was she.  Slowly she turned ... and there stood Captain Gregg!  Martha' s eyes rolled back in her head, and she knew nothing more.

When she opened her eyes, Martha was perplexed.  Why on earth was she lying on her bed when she had so much to do?  The sudden remembrance had her sitting up abruptly.  She looked around fearfully.  "Did I see what I THOUGHT I saw?"  Nothing.  No one.  It had been all in her imagination.  But it seemed so ... so vivid!  And why did she still have his voice ringing in her head?  The same voice she remembered from her dream!  The voice had been insistent that she not leave today, but instead she was to phone Evelyn and tell her she couldn't make it until tomorrow.

Martha staggered to the phone and called her sister.  The quaver in her voice convinced Evelyn that indeed Martha WAS a little under the weather, and couldn't possibly make the plane today.  Evelyn was so surprised by Martha's uncharacteristically weak voice that she agreed, albeit reluctantly, to put off her departure until the next day. 

After making the call, Martha got a water bag from the closet and filled it with ice water, went back to her room, moved her suitcase off the bed, got into her housecoat, and lay on the bed with the cold pack on her head.  SOMETHING was obviously wrong with her.  Probably from living in such an isolated spot.  She was finally cracking up, after all these years.  Snapped.  Gone off the deep end.  Now she would be no good for anything.  No one would want her around.  A low moan escaped her lips.  It was a good thing the Muirs didn't need her anymore.  What use would she be?  Seeing things ... and at her tender
age!  Why, she hadn't even been into the cooking sherry, but who would believe that?

The Muirs weren't likely to be home until late ... and Mrs. Muir seemed quite willing to get their supper herself.  Martha would stay here.  If they really DID care, they would come to ask if she wanted something to eat, at least.  If they didn't show up, she would know ...

Martha heard the commotion when the children and their mother arrived home, but she stayed resolutely in bed, her eyes closed and the ice pack firmly in place.  She strained her ears to hear someone walking down the hallway towards her room, but heard nothing.  Fine.  They were actually glad to see her go.  Well, she wouldn't care, either.  But the tears seeped out of her tightly-squeezed eyes.  Martha was so preoccupied with her self-pity that she almost missed Candy's arrival in her room.  Then she put out a hand weakly, telling Candy she couldn't possibly join the family.  She wanted to have Candy plead a bit.  To Martha's shock, Candy disappeared.  Then Mrs. Muir arrived, very solicitous.  Martha again shook her head when Mrs. Muir
wanted her to join the family for the evening.

"I hate to see you looking so pale." Mrs. Muir commented, her green eyes shadowed with worry.  "You look as if you had just seen a ghost."

At that word, Martha shot off the bed, her eyes wide and scared.  She stared off into space, wondering how she could ever explain such a thing to her employer.

"Martha," Mrs. Muir came up behind her, somewhat hesitantly.  "HAVE you ... seen a ghost?"

"Mrs. Muir, you're not going to believe it, but I think I HAVE seen a ghost!"

Mrs. Muir seemed to relax slightly, and a smile crossed her face.  "Martha, I don't know how to tell you this, but ... if you think you have seen a ghost ..."

"Yes?"  Maybe Mrs. Muir had a reasonable explanation ... Martha certainly hoped so.

"You've seen a ghost." Mrs. Muir's words were spoken wryly, but very firmly.  "It's Captain Gregg.  He's been with us two years.  Ever since we moved in to Gull Cottage."

"Whaaa..?"

Then Captain Gregg appeared again, talking briskly as if nothing could be wrong.  Martha was sure she was having hallucinations again, but Mrs. Muir assured her that SHE could see the Captain, as well.  Then she asked if Martha felt better ... better enough to join the family in the living room.

"I guess I always felt there was a ghost here, Mrs. Muir." Martha confessed.  "I just didn't want to admit it."  Then, deciding that
perhaps some alcohol might give her a bit of courage, she followed Mrs. Muir to the other room -- to be overwhelmed by the surprise party that the Muirs had planned.

No wonder they had seemed so distracted and happy today!  They hadn't been happy to see her go; instead, they had been busy planning this for her!  Martha beamed around at all of them.  She was even in the mood to be magnanimous with Claymore when he gave her flight  insurance and a box lunch in the tourist section of the plane!  Ed's gift of his grandmother's pillow touched Martha deeply, and the look in his eyes boded well for her future.  All in all, everything seemed to be looking up.  If ONLY she didn't have to leave them all!  How she was going to miss everyone!

Then the Captain appeared and announced he had a gift for her, too.  Martha jumped, not being used to him yet, but realizing that the  others were quite comfortable with him.  Well, not Claymore ... but then, he had been insisting on the presence of the ghost since the beginning, and Martha had paid no attention to him!

The Captain's gift, the phone call from Evelyn saying the orders had been changed and that Martha wasn't needed in Florida after all, made Martha ecstatic.  Then Ed had intercepted her the minute she got off the phone.  Martha had her dreams just like any other woman -- never mind being steady and dependable!  And many of her dreams lately spun around this man.  She KNEW what he was going to say in the foyer, but she had no time to listen.  It figured, she thought wryly to herself, even as she rushed into the living room.  After telling her joyful news and accepting the congratulations and adulations of the group, she was able to give her attention to Ed, hoping to hear that he loved her and couldn't possibly live without her and wanted to marry her ... Now, however, she saw him gulp and hastily say that it could wait.  With a quick nod and a knowing grimace, Martha turned
away from Ed.  Her time, and HIS!, would come.

After the men had left and the children had gone to bed, Mrs. Muir helped Martha carry her presents to her room.  Then Mrs. Muir came up with the startling suggestion that she still go to Florida, just for a visit.

"But I only have an hour!" Martha protested.

Then Captain Gregg appeared, and with a slight movement of his hand, packed her new suitcase for her.  Mrs. Muir grinned at Martha's expression when he disappeared again in a hurry, and she offered to drive Martha to the plane.  The Captain would stay with the children.

"Oh, good for a babysitter, too, is he?" Martha snickered.

"Just don't TELL him that!" Mrs. Muir cautioned.  "You know all that strange weather we have around Gull Cottage?"

"That's HIM?"

"Right."

"Like all men, he needs to be pampered, I suppose."  Martha chuckled.  "I'll have to see if I can figure out how to get him to help me with the housecleaning.  I wonder if he likes cherry pie?"

Mrs. Muir laughed.  "You'll come up with something, Martha, I'm sure.  Oh, I'm SO glad you're staying!"  Once again, she enveloped Martha in a fierce hug.

As she was sitting on the plane, thinking back over all the startling events of the day, Martha suddenly realized that now she KNEW about Gull Cottage's resident spectre, she wouldn't be able to stay TOO long in Florida.  Remembering some of the dreamy expressions on Mrs. Muir's face at various times over the last two years, and now having met the Captain and seen how he looked at her employer, Martha realized the dream she had had at Christmas was nearer to reality than she had thought.  It was very obvious the two were in love!  So she, Martha, would have to hurry home to Gull Cottage.  No telling WHAT hanky-panky the ghost and Mrs. Muir would get up to while she was away!