Joy in the Journey

by Diane Greenwood Muir

  "Yeah. We could do it here, maybe. Do you ever rent this out after hours?"

  "We could," Polly said with a nod. "How many people are you expecting?"

  "Just, like, the people who work here, my dad, my brothers and their families, and you and your family. That's why I want it around Bellingwood, so I can say thank you to everybody who helped me get this far."

  "What if we had a party at the Bell House?"

  Tears came to Shelly's eyes. "That's where I wanted to have it, but I didn't know how to ask. You guys did so much for me already. It feels weird to ask you to do one more thing."

  "Tell you what. Ask your father if it would be okay, then the three of us should talk about a date that works. We can use the grill and help you decide what kind of side dishes you want to serve. If you and your father want to figure out the food and decorations …"

  "There won't be any decorations," Shelly said. "I don't want to make a big deal out of it. It's just a time to say thank you and to celebrate that I’ve come this far." She blinked back tears. "When I was in that basement, I wondered about my future. Graduating from high school wasn’t even something I dreamed about. There was no way I’d get to do that."

  "You made this happen, Shelly," Polly said. "I would love to invite you all to the Bell House. We love you and we are all so proud of you. As long as this is what you and your father want to do, the rest is easy."

  Shelly pulled her into a hug. "Thank you, Polly." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "You saved my life. I owe you everything."

  "You're paying me back by moving forward, honey," Polly said. "Someday you’ll change the life of another person who needs it and that will be an amazing gift to me."

  Sylvie came out and put her hand on Shelly's back. "Did she tell you the good news?"

  "About being finished in a few months?"

  Sylvie frowned at Shelly. "No, though that's great, too. The other good news."

  Shelly lit up. "Oh. Contingent on me completing my equivalency, I'm accepted this fall to the nursing program in Boone. I'm really doing it."

  This time Polly couldn't help herself and hugged Shelly. Then she stepped back. "This is such great news. All of it. We're going to have a heck of a party in July."

  "Thank you, Polly." Shelly turned to go back into the bakery, embarrassed at the attention. "I'll check on those loaves of bread."

  Sylvie nodded. "She's worked hard to get here. It's been a tough year, but you should be proud."

  "I am," Polly said. "Shelly has done all of this work on her own, though. Did you hear Rebecca's news? I need to thank Andrew for letting her know about that job."

  "Look at them," Sylvie said. The two kids were talking animatedly, though in low enough tones that their words couldn't be heard. Both of them were smiling and laughing. "It's like last year didn't happen."

  "Except it did. I'm glad for that, though. At least they’ve discovered they can still be friends, no matter how much bad stuff they go through."

  "What's up with your new hairdo?" Sylvie asked, popping Polly's hair up from her shoulder. "That's some pretty fancy stuff."

  "Good fancy or weird fancy?"

  "It's nice. I like it. Has Henry seen it yet?"

  "Not yet. I hope he likes it."

  "He will. You're beautiful. This is kind of radical, though. People are going to think you're eighteen again."

  "I doubt it," Polly said. "But thanks."

  "Eliseo says they're hiring a new custodian at Sycamore House. He likes the guy."

  "So do I. It will be good to get him some extra help."

  Sylvie glanced into the bakery. "I wish Andrew had the time to work with him at the barn. Not that my boy would enjoy it, but Eliseo would be good for him. I'm so grateful that Jason learned how to work alongside Eliseo. It changed everything for him."

  "How's Andrew doing with his writing program at the university? I haven't heard him say much."

  "That's because he's working all the time. He loves it and has met some interesting people online. They make him think outside the box and I believe it's really helping him focus." She shook her head. "Both he and Rebecca are going to have a hard time because of their passions."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Jason fell in love with your horses and was able to turn that into a job with Elva. Once he’s through the vet tech program, he can go anywhere and do anything with his degree. Andrew and Rebecca don't have solid career paths that come from the arts. At least not obvious career paths. If they want to be artists, they'll have to work hard to not only create their art or write their stories, but then to promote themselves. I see why parents want their kids to have real jobs to fall back on. I'm trying to not be that parent, but it isn't easy. Is Andrew going to be a struggling writer for the rest of his life?"

  Polly chuckled. "I think it's become easier now that there are new online avenues for authors and artists."

  "Yeah, that's just what I need. Andrew becoming a big YouTube star and bringing out the crazies."

  "You're kidding, right?"

  "Kinda." Sylvie shook her head. "Oh well, I can’t fret over this today. He has two years of high school, four years of college, and who knows, maybe grad school. Then, we can worry about what he does with his life. Before that, though, my boy needs to earn enough money to not be a leech."

  "Sylvie," Polly scolded.

  "I'm not stressing about this. I'm not stressing about this."

  "Stressing about what?" Andrew asked as he walked with Rebecca out to the hallway.

  "Life. Have you finished unloading the shipment that came in?" Sylvie asked him.

  He nodded. "On it. Congratulations, Rebecca. Talk to you later?"

  "Yeah. See ya." She turned to Sylvie. "Thanks for letting me tell him about the job."

  "Congratulations. When do you start?"

  "Mr. Greene said I could come in tomorrow at ten. Maybe just for four hours. And then another four hours on Friday and again on Saturday. Once I'm comfortable being in the store by myself, he said that means he can get out and find more artists that will use the gallery to show their work. This is going to be fun."

  "That's terrific," Sylvie said.

  "We'll see you later." Polly steered Rebecca back down the hallway. "Lunch here or somewhere else?"

  Rebecca eyed the menu board. "Since we're celebrating, will you let me have an iced caramel latte?"

  Polly coughed. "When did you start drinking coffee?"

  With a side-eye glance, Rebecca said, "Cilla and I might get a coffee every once in a while in Boone when we go downtown between school and rehearsals."

  "I see. And you like the stuff?"

  "It took a few times to get used to it, but I do now. It's the same thing as drinking pop."

  "We don't have pop at home either."

  "When I first started coming to your house, you had Mountain Dew all the time. Now you drink coffee. Why can't I?"

  "Because you are still developing."

  Rebecca glanced down at her chest. "You mean I'm not done getting boobs yet?"

  Polly nearly choked. "I meant your brain is still developing. As for the rest of your body, I don't know enough about your family history to say."

  "Well, so can I?"

  "This is one of those things I'm not going to handle well," Polly said. "It makes me want to ask how many other things you've tried and haven't told me about."

  "You don't want to know."

  "I probably don't, but I should." Polly grinned at her. "Maybe it's time for me and Andrea to sit down with you girls and discuss the ins and outs of becoming an adult. We can talk about our expectations and explain how we plan to enforce those."

  "You wouldn't."

  Polly sighed. "You know, it's funny. When your closest friends were Kayla and Andrew, the only time I worried was when you and Andrew were alone. I knew Kayla would never set you up to do things where you had to question if I’d approve. Cilla has her own ideas of right and wrong and while I trust the two of you compl
etely, you are both creative and independent enough to explore ideas and try things that make me nervous."

  "Really? Like coffee?"

  "No. There are worse things than coffee out there."

  "I can have one?"

  Polly realized that one coffee was no worse than those energy drinks advertised to kids. This was killing her. She took a deep breath. "No. Not today."

  "Why not? That's not fair. We're celebrating."

  "Honey, I don't believe it's right for you to be drinking that much caffeine at this age. If you feel that you must sneak one when I'm not around, I can't stop you. But I can still wrest a little control back when you’re in my space."

  "Fine," Rebecca snapped. "We might as well go home. I don't feel much like celebrating." She stalked toward the front door.

  Polly ran to catch up to her and snagged her arm. "Are you kidding me? You want to sulk because I won't let you drink coffee in front of me?"

  "When are you going to believe that I'm no longer a kid?" Rebecca asked, yanking her arm away from Polly. She walked outside and headed for the car.

  "Honestly. When you stop throwing tantrums because you don't get your way," Polly said, striding to keep up.

  "This isn't a tantrum."

  "Call it what you will," Polly said. "But this behavior right here tells me that you aren't old enough, nor mature enough to take responsibility for yourself."

  "Whatever."

  "I'm not driving you home. I want to have lunch, and the kids and Cat have already eaten. I'm going back inside the coffee shop and order a sandwich. If you'd like to join me, I will buy your lunch. If you'd prefer to go home, you can walk. I’ll call Cat to let her know that you're on your way. If you aren't there in a reasonable amount of time, I'll come looking for you and there will be an entirely new set of consequences you'll deal with."

  Rebecca walked down the street and Polly turned to go back to the coffee shop. She took a deep breath so she could smile at Gia, who had come down from the salon. Just set it aside, Polly. She thought to herself. Set it aside.

  "Hi there, Gia. How are you?"

  "Okay." Gia looked away.

  "Are you going in for lunch?"

  The girl nodded and allowed Polly to open the door. She appeared to be uncomfortable as they walked together toward the front of the shop.

  About halfway there, Gia stopped and spun on Polly. "Would you leave me alone?"

  Polly snapped her head back. "What?"

  "You’re following me everywhere."

  "I'm sorry," Polly said. "I was just walking beside you. I didn't mean for it to feel as if I was following you."

  "No, I mean, you are everywhere. I didn't do it."

  "Didn't do what?"

  The girl's voice dropped to a low whisper. "I didn't kill him."

  Polly's mouth dropped open. "Kill who?" she whispered. She took Gia's arm and, finding the least populated spot, took her toward a booth where no one could hear them. "Kill who?"

  Gia looked frantically around, her eyes darting from person to person. "I know you suspect me. I didn't do it. I swear."

  "Are you talking about Mr. Baxter?"

  "Yes. Who else would I be talking about? I know that Nonni told you she gave me a key to the new place. Just because I had it, doesn't mean I wanted to kill him."

  "Why would you kill Keenan Baxter?"

  Gia's agitation had grown. She began breathing faster as Polly pushed her into the booth, then sat down across from her.

  Polly closed her eyes to think. There had been something odd about a couple of things the girl had said earlier at the salon. She thought through the conversation and it hit her.

  "Which was it? Were you busy or sick yesterday?"

  Gia frowned. "Why?"

  "You told us you had something else going on yesterday and then you told us you were sick. Which was it?"

  "I just didn't want to come in and do your manicure after you found him. There was no way I’d be able to act like nothing happened. I shouldn't have skipped out though. That's when Nonni told you, isn't it?"

  "Nonni did do our manicures," Polly said. "Why did you ask her for the key?"

  Gia dropped her head and loudly breathed in and out through her nose. She looked up, her lips pursed in frustration and she shook her head. "I didn't kill him. I swear it."

  "Do you know who did?"

  "It wasn't me." Gia said as she shook her head. "I wanted to talk to him, but he was dead when I got there. He was just lying on the floor with blood on his head and he wasn't breathing. It was awful. I can't get it out of my mind. But I swear. I didn't kill him."

  "You wanted to talk to Keenan Baxter? Why?"

  "He was my father."

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Sliding into the booth beside Polly, Rebecca mouthed "Sorry," at Polly’s questioning look. Then she leaned across the table to Gia.

  "Sorry about your dad, Gia."

  "How do you know they were related?" Polly asked.

  "I'm online. Everyone knows. Bellingwood is a small town."

  Gia shook her head. "That's why I figured you thought I was the killer."

  Rebecca sat straight up and snapped her head to Polly. "You thought Gia killed her own dad?"

  "No," Polly said. "I didn't think anything like that. I had no idea they were related. Gia, when did you move back to Iowa?"

  "Two years ago," Gia said. "My mom’s friend works at the beauty school in Des Moines, so when I started looking for a place to go, she worked it out. Then I found this job in Bellingwood. Mom wasn't happy with me moving up here, but after all these years, I didn't think it would matter. I wasn't ever going to see him." She shook her head. "It isn't like he'd recognize me."

  "Unless you look like your mom when he knew her," Rebecca said. "Do you?"

  "I kinda do, but I wear all this makeup and my hair is way different." Gia said. She was right. Her hair was much different than most everyone else. Green and blond on the top, short blond around the rest of her head.

  "Polly would never let me do that to my hair," Rebecca said, sliding Polly a knowing grin.

  "Mom isn't happy with it either, but that's the thing," Gia said. "Hair grows out. If I want to treat it like a canvas, I should be able to. Now that I'm on my own, I also want to get some tattoos. Since she's not paying for anything anymore, I get to make those decisions. I talked to Mina about learning to do tattoos someday and maybe opening a business inside the salon. There's nothing like that in Bellingwood."

  Polly had nothing to say to any of this. She did, however, feel extraordinarily old. Was she ever that creatively rebellious? The answer was most definitely no. Not that she remembered even considering those things. Her father wouldn't have stood for wild hair or tattoos, but he was the first to admit that people got to live their own lives. As long as they didn’t live under his roof, it wasn’t his business.

  "When did you find out he was your dad?" Polly asked.

  Gia’s eyes grew big. "Mom finally told me who he was a couple of months ago. I couldn’t believe it, but I found him online and asked if he had any kids. Then he messaged me. That was, like, the Saturday before we met. It happened really fast. We were going to meet at a restaurant in Boone, but I didn’t want anyone to see us. Not yet. I told him I worked in Bellingwood and he said that he’d be in town on Monday. I was at work and Nonni told me we should keep it private and meet out at the new salon."

  "I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to talk to him," Rebecca said.

  "I have to go," Gia said, getting out of the booth. "I just came down to pick up our lunches. When I saw you again, I panicked. I've been doing my best to avoid you, but Mina told me I had to show up this morning, no matter how sick I was."

  "But you aren't sick," Rebecca said.

  "I know." Gia turned and headed to the front counter.

  "What was that about?" Rebecca asked.

  "You know as much as I do. Why aren't you on your way home?"

  "Because I'm an idiot. I w
as just making it worse for myself by walking away. Sorry about that."

  Polly looked at her.

  "Okay, I'm sorry I sulked and pouted. That was dumb of me. I still don't understand, but I shouldn't have stalked off."

  "Here's the deal," Polly said. "I don't believe that an addiction to caffeine is good for someone your age. You are still young. You need your sleep, and you need to focus on your day without additional chemicals flowing through your bloodstream. When you get to college, just like Gia's mom, I won’t be able to stop you from making your own choices about what you do to your body. You’ll have to decide for yourself."

  "But you drink coffee all the time."

  "An adult brain is much different than the brain of someone your age," Polly said. "You're right. I probably drink too much coffee. But this isn't a goose and gander situation. It's not even apples and oranges."

  "You're weird."

  Polly grinned. "That may well be. Tell me that you really like the taste of coffee."

  "It's fun to drink it with all of the fun flavors, but coffee is kind of bitter."

  "So a chocolate shake with caramel would be just as good?"

  "Can I have one of those?"

  "I suppose. See, you don't even like coffee. You like the fluffy fun flavors. Would you drink black coffee?"

  Rebecca turned up her nose. "I don't think so."

  "Exactly. Here's what I think. You and Cilla thought it would be fun to sneak in something that neither Andrea or I would approve of. Would you have felt the need to have this discussion with me had the two of you had chocolate caramel milkshakes?"

  "Probably not." Rebecca looked away. "I'm never going to get away with anything, am I?"

  "Not if you keep telling me about it," Polly said, laughing. "Here’s the deal. I'm not going to start letting you drink coffee drinks in front of me. Not yet. When you turn eighteen, I won't stop you. If your brain hasn't developed enough by that point to handle a caffeine addiction, well, college is going to be rough."

  "Are you going to tell Cilla's mom?"

  "It will probably come up. I won't intentionally try to get Cilla in trouble, but we do talk about things and this is one of those stories that makes me laugh and cringe all at the same time. Now, before we embroil ourselves in something else entirely, what would you like to do about lunch?"