Beth clutched her teddy bear. “I’m glad to be here. I love you both very much.”
Her father nodded and left, pulling the door closed.
Beth settled underneath the covers, enveloped by their freshly laundered scent. Sparrows chirped outside her window amongst budding trees and a gentle breeze. She placed her teddy bear aside and closed her eyes, listening to their merry tune.
My, how far she’d come in such a short amount of time, and at such a young age. In Hollywood, she was thrust into a world where she had to grow up quickly, but in fact, she was only nineteen years old. It was ironic, wasn’t it? She had left Clarkson to find herself, and her journey led her back here.
Before she moved to L.A., Beth envied those with the ability to take flight and travel to new and exciting places whenever they pleased. Granted the opportunity to spread her own wings, she’d learned that reaching even the greatest heights left something to be desired, and the allure of descending back to Earth was as enchanting as soaring up to the sky. It was inevitable. Everything needed to come down sometime.
Chapter Twelve
Beth awoke to sunlight streaming in through her window—a rarity in Clarkson, but welcome after living in shadow since Aidan left. According to her bedside clock, she had slept for over twelve hours. No wonder she felt so well rested.
She stood from the bed and winced. Her reflection in the vanity mirror contradicted how she felt. Her wrinkled dress hung from a body that was thinner than normal. Tangled, matted hair framed bloodshot eyes. Aidan had sported a similar look on Halloween. If he could see her now, he wouldn’t have abandoned her. She was certain.
Tears stung her eyes, but she wouldn’t give in to her sorrow. She bathed, dressed, and by the time she joined her parents in the kitchen, she felt much more confident in explaining what happened while keeping her composure.
“Good morning, Mama. Good morning, Papa.”
Her father looked up from his newspaper and studied her with an inquisitive concern that made her regret leaving him to stew overnight about what might be wrong. The sense of security she was accustomed to in her youth enveloped her, infiltrating the holes in her heart. She was loved here. For the first time since her return, she felt whole.
“Good morning, Marie.”
“Hello, sweetie.” Mrs. Bates set her teacup on the table. Always the most patient and altruistic member of their family, she smiled with carefree ease and provided no insight into the concern that surely had kept her up most of the night. She was an active member of the Clarkson Women’s Social Club and often volunteered in the community, especially helping those in need, but nothing took precedent over protecting the well-being of her husband and child. “What would you like for breakfast?”
Although Beth’s appetite was still diminished, her parents’ expectant expressions made it impossible for her to admit it. “Do we have oatmeal?”
Her mother stood. “Absolutely. Have a seat and I’ll make some for you.”
Beth sat across from her father. He folded his newspaper and put it away, offering his undivided attention. There was no point in delaying the inevitable.
“Papa, I want you and Mama to know I’m all right.” Beth phrased her next words carefully. If she shared too many details, her father would never allow her to leave the house, never mind Clarkson. “There was an issue at work. Nothing you need to worry about. Just a disagreement with Mr. Mertz. Golden Gloves was shut down and my studio contract was terminated.”
“Was Aidan the cause of this disagreement with your boss?” Her father’s nostrils flared. “And where is he now that you have no job? No way of supporting yourself?”
“Aidan isn’t to blame. Mr. Mertz and I…we didn’t see eye to eye on something. Aidan tried to rectify the situation, and this resulted in the termination of our film and my employment at the studio. As for Aidan’s whereabouts—well, he’s giving me some space.”
Her father leaned back in his chair, though his shoulders never lost their tension. “During my visit to Los Angeles, I spoke to Aidan about his lack of respect toward authority. I knew his attitude would get him in trouble one day. I just didn’t think he would bring you down, too, given how strongly he said he felt toward you. Are you certain he didn’t tell you to argue with Mr. Mertz? You don’t need to protect him, Marie. I’m your father. I deserve to know the truth.”
“No, Papa. Aidan tried to help me after the fact. If anything, he taught me to stand up for myself. The whole experience has been harrowing, but I’m a stronger woman because of it. My fragile appearance may project otherwise, but that’s only because everything happened recently. I will get through it. I know I will.”
“Are you moving back to Oregon? It’s not too late to attend Teachers College in Portland.”
Beth sighed. Abandoning acting was a painful but likely choice. “Right now, I’m not sure what I’ll do. I need time to process everything before I make a decision.”
Her mother placed a glass of apple juice and a bowl of oatmeal drizzled in honey on the table. “Here you are, dear. Enjoy.”
Beth smiled. “Thank you.”
Mrs. Bates reclaimed her chair. “I’m going to the market this morning. You’re more than welcome to accompany me.”
“I’d love to.” Beth picked up her spoon and dug into her oatmeal.
Thankfully, her father seemed satisfied with her answers—for now. He resumed reading the newspaper while her mother drank a fresh cup of tea.
After Beth finished her breakfast, she returned to her bedroom to prepare for shopping. She met her mother in the foyer and they walked to the station wagon together.
“Mama, how have you been?”
Her mother backed out of the driveway. “Oh, you know, nothing changes much around here. I’ve been well. But I’m a lot better now that you’re home.”
“I appreciate you telling me that.” Beth looked to her lap. “I didn’t want to be a burden.”
“You could never be a burden. You’re our daughter. We love you, and you always have a home with us.” Unspoken inquiries lingered between them. It wasn’t until they turned onto the main road in the direction of downtown that her mother lifted the veil. “Marie, what really happened between you and Aidan? I know it’s not customary for a daughter to speak with her father about such things, but you can speak to me.”
“Aidan broke up with me.” Beth’s shoulders sagged. “Not because he wanted to, though. I think he blames himself for what happened at the studio, even though it wasn’t his fault. So after he confronted Mr. Mertz on my behalf, he left, believing it was best for me. I haven’t heard from him since.”
“I’m so sorry, Marie.” Her mother parked at their destination and pulled her in for a hug.
Beth closed her eyes and breathed deeply, easing the ache in her chest. There was nothing like her mother’s scent. Prell, wildflowers, a hint of vanilla. It was the scent of her childhood, of afterschool baking, weekend adventures in the park, and cozy bedtime stories.
“Don’t give up on your relationship, sweetie. From what I gathered during my trip to Los Angeles, Aidan is very taken with you. With a love as strong as yours, the bonds don’t sever easily. Perhaps after some time apart, some reflection, you two will reunite.”
“I want that more than anything. I suppose I’ll just have to be patient.” Beth exited the station wagon and joined her mother in front of the market.
The sky had clouded over. It was a typical Sunday morning in Clarkson. Women socialized and shopped while men smoked and shared casual conversations on the sidewalks. Beth blinked back tears and held her head high. A leisurely day occupied by quality time with her mother was exactly what she needed to get her mind off Aidan’s absence. In particular, she couldn’t sulk and give the townspeople a reason to question the motive behind her return.
“Barbara!” Mrs. Foster waved at Mrs. Bates on her scuttle across the road. In her late seventies, the baker’s wife had a few more wrinkles than Beth remembered and a plum
per figure that nearly filled in the loose skin she used to have hanging from her jowls.
“Lorraine.” Mrs. Bates added a nod to her greeting. “It’s lovely to see you. How are you?”
“I’m fine. Thank you.” Mrs. Foster gestured to the garment bag draped over her arm. “I’m dropping off a dress for dry-cleaning and then popping in to see Mrs. Marthery. We started a knitting group this winter, you know. Presently, we’re making sweaters to donate to the church’s Easter clothing drive. You should help us if you have time. We could use the extra hands. Anyhow, what brings you to town this morning?”
“My daughter and I are going to the market.”
Mrs. Foster’s gaze landed on Beth for the first time since her approach. “Marie, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you. I didn’t recognize you.” Her lips curled, distorting her welcoming grin into a grimace. “You’ve been living in Los Angeles, correct?”
Beth’s polite smile masked her wariness. Mrs. Foster was Clarkson’s own Hilda Hooper. It was best to be on guard around her. “Yes, ma’am.”
Mrs. Foster’s grimace deepened to a scowl. “I saw your film, Sparkling Meadow, under encouragement of some fellow Clarkson residents—you know, to support our local talent. The kiss in the barn between your character and that young man—two unwed individuals—really pushed my moral limits. Why on earth would you participate in such debauchery, and for the entire world to see?”
Beth gulped, though she should’ve expected Mrs. Foster’s criticism, given the woman’s staunch Christian beliefs. “Well, I—”
“Hollywood is a wicked, wicked place.” Mrs. Foster wagged her finger in Beth’s face. “It was only a matter of time before those movie folks forced you into compromising your good character. I’m just glad you changed your name professionally, so there’s a chance you haven’t ruined Clarkson’s impeccable reputation.”
“I was only acting.” Beth’s retort remained civil. However, her frown revealed her irritation. “And the kiss was filmed tastefully.”
Mrs. Foster huffed. “Just the fact you agreed to display affection onscreen appalls me. Many young girls watched that film, including my granddaughter. I hate to think they now believe it’s acceptable to sneak off with a young man, unsupervised. You should have invited your gentleman friend to dinner with you and your parents or attended a church service with him instead.”
Beth’s annoyance yielded to amusement, but she suppressed her giggle out of courtesy. Mrs. Foster had over seven decades of religious teachings ingrained into her. There was no way to convince her that her views were old fashioned, nor did Beth have a right to devalue her opinions on the subject.
“When I return to Los Angeles, I’ll be sure to let the studio know your concerns.”
“Good. Meanwhile, you should stop in to see Reverend Redmond during your stay and repent. There’s still hope for you yet.” Mrs. Foster turned back to Mrs. Bates. “Barbara, it’s nice to see you. I hope your Christian influence expels the sins from your daughter’s soul and helps her see the light. I also suggest you educate Marie on the importance of asking God for guidance before she makes decisions that could ultimately damn her to Hell.”
Mrs. Bates’ lips twitched, indicating she held back laughter, too. “Yes, Lorraine. I will.”
“Excellent. Good-bye!” With a hearty wave, Mrs. Foster took off down the street.
Beth cast a tentative glance at her mother. “My performance in Sparkling Meadow didn’t shame you and Papa, did it? Mrs. Foster is radical in her opinions, but many of the older population in town share the same views.”
Her mother’s smile calmed her fears. “You’ve never brought shame upon our family. I’m proud of your performance and you should be, too.”
“That means a lot to me, Mama. Thank you.” Beth linked arms with her and they entered the market.
While they shopped, many townsfolk greeted them. Beth was asked about Los Angeles and various movie stars, and if she didn’t have nice things to say, she fibbed so she wouldn’t crush their excitement. As for her personal experiences, she kept her responses vague. It was still difficult to discuss Hollywood and the studio without getting upset.
Although Beth was grateful she was still welcome in Clarkson, she couldn’t identify with many of the housewives she spoke to, even those close to her in age. While she discussed her film projects and purchasing her own house, the women discussed their children, their duties to their husbands, and what meals they were preparing for dinner with enthusiasm she didn’t share. There wasn’t anything wrong with their interests, and she certainly didn’t think she was better than them. They merely reminded her of why she had left Clarkson in the first place.
While Beth wanted to see the world and explore her options, these women settled into small town life happily. Whether that was by choice or if they just didn’t believe it was possible to do anything else, she wasn’t sure. Perhaps her ambitions were farfetched, but she couldn’t give up on her dreams. If she didn’t return to acting, she would become a teacher, maybe attending college in Portland like her father suggested and relocating to another big city after graduation.
After gathering all the items on their grocery list, Beth and her mother made their way to the checkout. A fair-haired young woman stood in line, carrying a basket of produce. Gentle in her features, dainty in poise, and dressed in a conservative cotton dress, she radiated warmth and beauty that made even the cloudiest morning in Clarkson seem like a Southern California afternoon. Not Hollywood beauty, but honest–to–goodness prettiness that didn’t require cosmetics or designer clothing for one to recognize and appreciate it. Beth couldn’t believe her eyes. Emma Stacy hadn’t changed one bit since high school.
“Emma!”
Emma’s hand flew to her chest. “Marie! It’s so good to see you!” She blushed. “Forgive me. Perhaps I should call you Elizabeth.”
Beth hugged her. “Marie is fine.”
“Goodness. There’s so much to catch up on.” Emma released her. “How long are you in town for?”
Beth’s smile wavered. “I’m not sure.”
“Well, we must meet up soon. How about we have shakes at Mr. Kent’s drugstore? I can give you my telephone number and you can ring me up when you’re free.”
Mrs. Bates stepped forward. “Marie, you and Emma should catch up now. I’ll finish here and meet you back at the house.”
Beth motioned to her mother’s overflowing basket. “Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you to put all the groceries away on your own.”
Her mother nodded. “Of course I’m sure.”
“I can drive you home,” Emma said. “I have the car because Neil is busy fixing our eaves trough. It’s been leaking since God knows when—probably the turn of the century when the house was built!”
“Neil?” Beth’s eyes widened. “Not Neil Russell?”
Emma giggled and raised her left hand to show off an engagement ring and a wedding band.
“My, we do have a lot to discuss!” Beth kissed her mother’s cheek. “Thank you, Mama. I’ll see you at home.”
Emma paid for her produce and they left the store.
Mr. Kent’s drugstore was a smaller establishment than Schwab’s Pharmacy and didn’t attract celebrity clientele, but his chocolate malts were the best Beth had ever tasted.
They claimed their usual seats at the far end of the counter and set down their belongings. Mr. Kent rushed toward them. He’d always reminded Beth of James Stewart in It’s A Wonderful Life. Not only did he resemble the actor in appearance, even though he was much older, but he was also gregarious and kind and always willing to go out of his way to help anyone in town like George Bailey did in the film.
“Marie, what a surprise! You look so grown up.” He gestured to her with gusto. “Last I heard you were living in Los Angeles. What brings you back here?”
Again, Beth kept her reply simple. “I missed Clarkson.”
“Really? I can’t imagine you’d find anything interes
ting here after all the exciting things I’m sure you’ve experienced since leaving town.” Mr. Kent placed two napkins on the counter. “So what’ll it be? The usual?”
They nodded.
“All right. Two chocolate malts coming right up.” Mr. Kent left to prepare their orders.
Beth was curious about what brought Emma back to Clarkson, but she also hoped taking control of the conversation would keep the focus off her. “Please tell me everything that’s happened since we last saw each other.”
Emma’s eyes twinkled. “Well, I attended the Portland Teaching School for Women for one year with the intent of staying in the city after graduation. But fate had other plans. I was walking home from class one afternoon and ran right into Neil—literally. My books fell to the ground and he helped me retrieve them. He asked if I would like to have a soda with him and the rest, as they say, is history.”
“What was he doing in Portland?”
“He was on a delivery. After high school, he committed to working full time at his family’s furniture business. I never gave him the time of day growing up—we seemed very different—but that afternoon changed everything. We got married six weeks later.”
“Six weeks!”
Emma giggled. “Yes. We knew we were going to be together forever, so why not? After our wedding, since I was still in school, he visited me every weekend. Then two weeks before I graduated, he informed me that Mrs. Cooper passed away.”
Beth gasped. “Oh, no. She was so lovely.”
Emma nodded. “When she died, a position opened up at the Clarkson schoolhouse. I applied and they offered me the job right away. It was perfect because Neil’s job is based here, so I would’ve had to return regardless. I didn’t mind moving back to town, really, even though it wasn’t my initial plan. I’d follow him anywhere.”
“How do you like teaching?”
Emma’s expression brightened with almost the same intensity as it did when she spoke about her husband. “Oh, Marie. Teaching is superb! I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. It’s been such a rewarding experience, and it’s helped me become more comfortable around children, which I hope will come in handy when I’m raising my own kids someday.” A frown crept upon her lips. “Neil and I have been trying to conceive for over a year. Unfortunately, we haven’t been successful.”
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