by Diann Hunt
I blink. “Uh, no, I’m sorry.” I take a deep breath and look at him. “Listen, Peter, I care about you. I really do, but—”
He holds up his palm and sighs. “You don’t have to say another word. It was written all over your face when he came to the door last night.”
His comment makes me blink.
He glances at his watch. “There’s still plenty of daylight for me to get on the road.” Settling back into his seat, he starts the engine. “To tell you the truth, I already checked out of the hotel. I had a feeling it would go like this today.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I came down to scope out some land, see a good friend, and now I’m going home.”
We smile at one another, and he turns on the radio, cutting off further conversation. With my face toward the passenger window, I struggle to keep the tears in check. I’ve lost a friend in Peter, and I’ve lost Russ.
Peter soon pulls us up to Janni’s house, puts the transmission in park, and turns to me. “Look, you scope out the possibilities for the Scottenses. You know the area better than I do anyway. If something opens up, let me know, and I’ll get the paperwork in order.”
I nod.
He grabs my hands. “Listen, Charlene, we can still be friends, right? There’s no reason this has to affect our professional relationship, is there?”
He’s worried more about the business than the romance. “No reason.”
“Great. See you back at the office.” He releases my hands. I say good-bye, close the car door behind me with a wave, and watch him drive off.
“Russ has been trying to reach you. Said your cell phone must be turned off.” Janni wipes her hands with a dish towel and turns to me.
“I’m surprised he called.” My hand digs into a box of store-bought cookies, and I take a bite of one.
“No way. You’re eating store-bought cookies?” Janni’s eyes could match that of any Hollywood star caught in a horror movie.
“Peter bought them. I’m desperate.”
Janni slides into the chair across from me. “What’s wrong, sis?”
“Peter went home.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Char.” She takes a cookie from the box.
“It’s all right. It’s better this way. If you don’t mind, I really can’t talk about it right now.” Reaching into the basket, I start to empty it.
Janni nods. “You guys didn’t eat lunch?”
“We didn’t get that far.” I put the wrapped turkey sandwich into the refrigerator while Janni pours us both a glass of iced tea.
We sit back in our chairs. “How’s the syrup coming?”
“They’re busy as little bees down there.”
“Do they need me?”
Janni shakes her head. “There’s no room even if you wanted to go down there.”
While Linda and Gail huddled in bathrooms with other high-school girls to talk about me and Eddie, Janni was surrounded by friends who remain loyal to her to this very day.
“I went to the doctor today.”
I stop chomping on my cookie and look up. “How did it go?”
“They’re checking into that hormone thing.”
“And?”
“We talked over the different options, and he’s starting me on some things that should help with the thyroid and mood swings.”
“You’ll be good as new in no time.”
“I hope so. I want to feel like my old self again.” Janni twirls the ice in her glass with a straw. There’s no question all this stuff with Stephanie has taken its toll on her. “Stephanie, Carol, and I are going shopping tonight. Do you want to go?”
“As tempting as that sounds, I think I’ll pass. You three need time to see how you all fit together. Plus, I could use the time to think through some things of my own.” Janni’s family just keeps expanding while mine, well, doesn’t.
“Suit yourself. But you’re welcome to come along.”
“Thanks. Have you told the guys or Mom and Dad yet?”
“No. There’s been no opportunity. I have to do it before the boys leave, though.”
We talk awhile about the boys, Carol, and Stephanie, and then I stand. “Well, if you don’t need me, I think I’ll go rest for a little while in my room. I didn’t sleep all that well last night.” After emptying the contents from the picnic basket, I put it back in its place on the shelf. “Thanks for letting me borrow this, by the way.”
“No problem. Sorry it didn’t work out.”
That seems to be my life’s mantra.
“Psst.” Someone calls to me when I step out of my bedroom after my nap. “Char, over here.”
Daniel pulls me just inside Blake’s room.
“Your dad told me Gertie called and said her son is considering selling his motorcycle. Since Janni seems to be enjoying it, I asked Dad to check with Gertie to see if her son would sell it to us.”
“Are you kidding?” I’m shocked to the core that Daniel is actually considering it. I’m also worried that Mom will find out Dad talked privately to Gertie.
“Well, Janni just lights up at the mention of that bike. I want to get it for her.” He tucks his thumbs through his belt loops. “It just seems, oh, I don’t know, with everything that’s been going on around here, I figured she could use a little pick-me-up.”
All this—after Janni’s big secret—and without a coupon. Now that’s love. “She will adore it, Daniel.” I give him a hug. “You’re the greatest.”
“This should buy me a few more years, don’t you think?” He chuckles.
“I sure do.” Clanging noises from the kitchen waft up the stairway. “I’d better get downstairs and see if they need help with anything.”
“Okay, don’t tell Janni.”
“Mum’s the word.” I smile and edge down the stairs, thinking once again how blessed Janni is to have such a husband and family.
“Well, there’s the slacker,” Blake teases, giving me a sideways hug. “How’s my favorite aunt?”
“Tired.” I yawn. “What time is it?”
“You missed dinner, but Mom saved you some. Turkey stew in a bread bowl. My favorite.” He rubs his belly.
“Everything’s your favorite.”
He flashes the ornery grin that curls around this aunt’s heart every time. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“How’d the syrup go today?”
“We had to pass up about twenty gallons of sap that smelled bad.” He makes a face.
“Why don’t you just tell me the Dow Jones took a major plunge in the world today? Same difference.”
Blake gives me a deadpan stare. “Boy, you do take this syrup thing seriously, don’t you?”
Janni enters the room. “Don’t get her started.”
“Where are Mom and Dad?” I ask.
“They went to the grocery, I think. Mom’s on her potato-salad kick.”
“Well, keep her away from the syrup.”
Janni grins, then thinks a moment. “You know, she hasn’t had many sweets lately. She must be getting tired of the sugar.”
“That clinches it. I’m adopted. I never get tired of sugar.”
Janni laughs and shakes her head.
“So when are you going shopping?” I ask, sitting down in a chair.
“We’re not. Stephanie got called in to work. I offered to take Carol, but she wanted to wait until Stephanie could join us. Says she has some knitting she wants to get done, a scarf or something she’s knitting for Stephanie, so she’s up in her room working on that.”
“We’re going bowling, me and Ethan. Want to go, Aunt Char?”
“No, thanks. I’ve seen how you two play. I don’t need that kind of pressure. I might go to the coffee shop awhile. Want to go?”
Janni plops in a chair, allowing her legs to hang over the side like a teenager, and smiles up at me. “I can’t. Daniel ran to the store, but he’ll be right back; then we’re going to a movie. You’re welcome to go with us.”
“That’s right,” Blake chimes in.
Janni laughs out loud and waves me away.
“Do I look too stupid in this ponytail?” My fingers reach up and tuck in a few stray hairs.
“No, you look cute in your boot-cut jeans, white top, ponytail, all of it.” She shakes her head. “You’re forty-seven, and you can still pull it off.” She sighs. “And you have a cottage overlooking the sea. Life just isn’t fair.”
“Whatever. You have a family that adores you and friends who stand by you through thick and thin. Money can’t buy that.” My voice sounds a little too serious, and she looks my way. “But I’ll take what I can get,” I say with a laugh and a swish of my ponytail. I stand. “I think I’ll go on over there.”
Alone.
twenty-seven
“Hey, Char,” Stephanie calls out with a wide grin when she sees me step into the coffee shop.
“How’s my favorite barista?” I whisper, careful not to let the other girl hear me.
Stephanie smiles. “It’s always better when you’re here.”
“Okay, you are definitely my favorite niece.”
She laughs. “Safe answer.”
I lean into the counter. “Everything going all right?”
She smiles. “I think everything will be fine.”
Wish I could be that confident with my own problems.
“We’ll see how Grandma, Grandpa, and the boys react,” she says.
When the other barista moves within earshot, we change the conversation to business at the coffee shop, and soon Stephanie has my macchiato ready.
“Thanks.” I head over to an empty table, wondering how long Stephanie will stay with Janni and Daniel. They are enjoying their new-found relationship. All this time, I thought it would be too much for Janni to find out about Stephanie, but instead, this little revelation seems to have given Janni new enthusiasm for life.
After placing a couple of calls to clients, I pull the Real Estate magazine from my bag and settle in to relax. The tension melts away with my first drink and flip of the page.
I’m halfway through my magazine when the bell jangles over the door, and I glance up to see Linda Kaiser stepping inside. Major mood dive here. I tuck my head further into my chest and keep my eyes glued to the magazine, though I don’t know why. It’s not as though she’ll want to talk to me or anything.
“Charlene, do you have a moment?”
Then again, I could be wrong. When I look up, Linda is standing by my table.
“Uh, yeah. Sit down.” I’m asking her to sit at my table, why? The woman who stole my husband, had the baby that should have been mine ? Saying nothing of the fact that she was with Russ last night.
“Thanks. So how have you been?”
“Fine, thanks.” Can we get this over with, please? She probably wants to gloat about her and Russ. Of course the difference here is that Russ does not belong to me. Another twinge. These little twinges are making me mad.
“Listen, I’m not sure where to begin.”
I cut her off. “How’s Carissa?” How about we just stick with the weather, kids, that kind of thing, and get on with our lives?
She stops and looks at me. “Huh? Oh, she’s fine. How did you know her name?”
“Word gets around.” For a fraction of an instant, I enjoy watching her squirm with the realization that people in this town talk. She knows all about that. She and Gail could win the “Rona Barrett Gossip Award” for as much as they talked. About me. All the time. She was so jealous of me and Eddie, she couldn’t see straight.
Just then Stephanie brings over Linda’s drink, and Linda thanks her before turning back to me. She fiddles with the jacket on her cup. “Listen, Char, I know that Gail and I stirred up plenty of trouble in high school, but those days are behind me.” When she sees I’m not so easily convinced, she says, “You may not believe it, but this whole thing with Eddie has changed me. Unfortunately, I have a past I’m not proud of.”
Well, duh.
“I know this is a little late, but I want to apologize to you. I’ve been a total idiot.” A gentle vulnerability seeps through her comment.
What she says startles me to the core, but I’m not feeling soft right now. Steel wool comes to mind. With absolutely no effort on my part whatsoever to make it easy on her, I simply stare.
“I took your husband away from you and that was wrong.”
Oh, now there’s a newsflash. “It wasn’t you, Linda.” Why should I give her the satisfaction of thinking she won him away from me? “He was primed and ready for anyone”—definite emphasis on the “anyone” part—“who would give him the time of day.” Uh-oh, fangs showing. Still, I don’t want her to think she is all that. Eddie was waiting for any woman who would take the bait.
“Yeah, I can see that now.” She looks back into her cup.
Well, that wasn’t exactly the catfight I was expecting. A pang of remorse hits me, but only for the flash of a millisecond.
“He was vulnerable, I bumped into him one night. We started talking about old times, and one thing led to another.”
Eyes boring into her, I say, “Spare me the details.”
Linda sighs. “You’re not making this very easy.”
“Easy? You want me to make this easy, Linda? He was my husband. My husband. We lost a child together. We were both hurting—and we handled it . . . differently. I retreated into myself. He had an affair. With you.”
“I had some challenges of my own at the time.”
“Oh, and so that makes it all right to steal another woman’s husband?” What is wrong with me? I thought I had worked through all this, that I had forgiven both of them. Poison is dripping from me like spoiled sap from a tree.
A filmy haze shadows her eyes. “What do you want from me, Char? Blood?”
No, I get queasy at the sight of blood. But I might settle for broken bones.
She sighs and turns the ring on her finger. “I know I can’t undo what’s been done, but, well, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for the pain I caused you.”
The way she says it takes the fight right out of me. I want to be angry—to free all the words that have festered in my heart, but when I look at her at that very moment, I feel pity. She made a bad choice that hurt a lot of people, but it takes two to tango, as Mom always says. And now Linda is hurting the way I did, because another woman stole Eddie from her.
“I’m sorry I bothered you.” She starts to get up.
Suddenly, revenge doesn’t seem so sweet. I grab her hand. “Wait.”
She looks at me and sits back down.
“Look, this isn’t easy for either of us. We won’t get through it without lots of prayer, but I’m willing to try. It’s in the past. Let’s leave it there.”
“Have you?” There is no accusation in her voice. She asks the question as though she really wants to make sure she’s forgiven.
“I’ve tried to.”
“I’m not sure if anyone has told you, but I’ve moved back, and Eddie is remarried.”
“Yeah, I heard. You’re better off without him.” Eddie’s left his mark on both of us.
“Will I get there one day, with the forgiveness, I mean?”
When I look into her eyes, I realize I’m seeing myself not so very long ago. Wounded and bleeding. Who am I kidding? That’s still me. “You’ll get there.”
She nods. “How long did it take you?”
A knot swells in my throat. I merely shrug.
“Thank you, Char. Thank you for giving me closure. For bringing peace.”
This is so not the way I saw this play out in my mind over the years. Doesn’t she need to know the pain she has caused me? The endless nights when I cried myself to sleep? Yet somehow when I look at her and see the shadows in her eyes, the dark c
ircles, I realize . . . she does know.
Linda takes a drink from her cup. “This has been awful hard on Carissa.”
“I’m sorry.” And the thing is, I really am. I’m thankful I never had to put a child through that. Funny. That’s something I hadn’t thought of before now. I’ve been so caught up in the pain of being childless that I never saw it as a blessing. Still, the idea of it causes my heart to stumble. “I’m sorry, too, for how I acted when we bumped into each other.”
She lifts a weak smile. “We deserved it. By the way, I was going to talk to you last night when I saw you, but you were with that guy, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“That’s all right. He’s just a friend.”
“I’m sure Russ will be glad to hear that. He’s crazy about you, but then I guess you know that. I ran into him here last night too. Did you see him? He was upset about something, but wouldn’t say what.”
My heart leaps here. It makes me feel better to know Russ just bumped into Linda out here last night and that he didn’t tell her what he was upset about.
Maybe I will call him back.
Though it ’s late and cold, I walk to the woods to clear my head. The thing that keeps me from weighing five hundred pounds from all the cookies I eat? Walking. Though I don’t do it for the exercise benefit, that’s just a bonus. It clears my head and settles my nerves. And right now, my nerves pretty much resemble porcupine needles.
The calm wind makes the cold air bearable. A flutter of bird wings in a nearby tree startles me as I wind my way through the trees. Having grown up here, I have no fear of getting lost. I know this forest as well as I know myself. Although right now, I’m not doing so great on that part.
All these years I’ve been satisfied with my spiritual journey. I survived that whole affair thing, after all. Who wouldn’t be a little bitter? It didn’t seem out of line; it seemed human—or so I told myself. Still, the seedling of bitterness took root in my heart and began to grow, while I tended to other things and hardly noticed.
I step over a fallen branch. Who am I kidding? The only “thing” I tend to is work. It’s not as though I help out anyone, really. Oh, I might offer a token lunch now and then to a friend, but when is the last time I took dinner to someone who was sick, picked up groceries for some-one homebound or watched children for a tired mom?