Wishing for Wonderful: The Serendipity Series, Book 3

by Bette Lee Crosby

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “You ought to eat a hearty breakfast, since you’ll be skipping lunch.”

  “Why would you think I’d be skipping lunch?” Her words were pointy and sharp-edged. They had the sound of an accusation rather than a question.

  “I’ve got tickets for you and your Dad to go to the Phillies game,” Eleanor answered. “It’ll be close to dinnertime when you get back. So I figured we could have dinner about—”

  “You’re not coming? Just Dad and I are going?”

  “Unh-hunh.” Eleanor nodded. “I’ve got a garden club meeting today.”

  Lindsay walked across the kitchen and pulled a plate from the cupboard. “Well, if we’re going to be out all afternoon, maybe I had better eat something.” Although far from friendly, her words no longer had those razor-sharp barbs poking at the air.

  She ate five pancakes and three sausages then hurried upstairs to get dressed.

  Eleanor picked up the empty plate and turned to the sink with a self-satisfied smile.

  Cupid

  Limping Toward Labor Day

  Lindsay is already cooking up schemes to end her father’s relationship. You know it, I know it and apparently so does Eleanor. Although the air conditioner in Eleanor’s car has been broken for well over a month, she drove to Philadelphia on an afternoon with record heat to get those tickets. Instead of telling John how persnickety the girl has been acting, she smiled and waved goodbye as they pulled out of the driveway. Eleanor is bending over backward trying to make friends with Lindsay, but Lindsay is having no part of it. As far as she’s concerned, Eleanor is just trying to squeeze herself into the shoes Bethany wore.

  I’ve looked at the future and things do not look good for Eleanor and John, which saddens me. But bear in mind, the future I see is based on things as they now stand. If something in the present changes, it can change the future. That said, there’s only so much I can do. If I had the power Life Management has…well, then, we’d be talking about another story.

  ~ ~ ~

  The car had barely turned the corner when Lindsay looked across at her father and said, “I’m glad it’s just the two of us.”

  “It is nice,” John answered. He reached across and gave her knee an affectionate pat.

  They rode in silence for a few moments; then Lindsay said, “I’m glad she didn’t come.”

  “You mean Eleanor?”

  Lindsay nodded.

  “Eleanor was the one who suggested we go together. She said it’s good for you and me to spend some time alone together. Why, she even drove down to the stadium to pick up the tickets. That’s the thing about Eleanor; she’s got a good heart, always thinking of other people. She gets happiness out of seeing other people happy.”

  Lindsay’s smile quickly turned to a scowl. “Does everything have to be about her?”

  “You’re the one who brought it up.”

  “Well, I feel like she’s taking over our lives. Every word out of your mouth is about Eleanor. It’s Eleanor this, Eleanor that. Why don’t you ever talk about Mom?”

  “What can I say about your mom that I haven’t said a thousand times before?”

  “So now what, you’re gonna forget about Mom? You’re gonna let this Eleanor person take Mom’s place, is that it?”

  The muscle in John’s jaw hardened. “No, that’s not it. No one will ever take your mother’s place, and Eleanor isn’t trying to—”

  “Yes, she is! You’re just too blind to see.”

  “Listen to me, Lindsay,” he said sharply. “Eleanor isn’t taking your mother’s place, but she is filling a spot in my life that’s been empty for almost ten years. Ten years, Lindsay! Ten long, miserable years!”

  Lindsay opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

  “If heartache and tears could bring your mother back she’d be with us right now, because God knows I’ve shed enough tears over her. I can’t change the past, Lindsay, but I can do something about the future.”

  “Yeah, your future,” Lindsay said.

  “No, not just my future, our future. Eleanor’s going to be part of our family, and if you give her half a chance—”

  “That woman is not part of my family. To me she’s a stranger. Somebody I know nothing about. For all I know she could be an ax murderer or—”

  “Eleanor and I have known each other since high school. In fact, she knew your mom.”

  “Oh, and then a few decades later she just crawls out of the woodwork looking to get married? How convenient.”

  “Eleanor was married to someone else for almost twenty years. He died of colon cancer.”

  Lindsay could think of no comeback for that, so they rode in silence for the next five minutes. When they pulled into the stadium parking lot John switched off the ignition and turned to his daughter.

  “Why do you dislike Eleanor so much?” he asked. “She’s never done anything or said anything—”

  “It’s always about her. It’s like you just forgot Mom.” Lindsay’s lip quivered, and tears began rolling down her cheeks. “You care more for a stranger than you do…”

  She wanted to say “me,” but the word never came because it was held back by a sob.

  John moved across the seat and pulled her into his arms. “Sweetheart, no one is ever going to replace your mom. She was somebody very special—”

  “If Eleanor isn’t replacing Mom, then why is she always at our house?”

  “Lindsay, you’re here now, but you won’t always be. One of these days you’ll meet someone special, get married and move away. When that happens, I don’t want you looking back and feeling guilty because I’m alone. With Eleanor by my side, you won’t have to.”

  “So you’ll stick Mom’s memory in the closet and forget about everything that—”

  “Your mother’s memory will be with me for as long as I live,” John said. “Even if I tried to forget Bethany I couldn’t, because you’re exactly like her.”

  “I remind you of Mom?”

  John nodded. “You certainly do. You look like her, talk like her and at times you even have a bit of her temper.”

  “Mom had a temper?”

  He smiled. “You could say that.”

  When the sniffling subsided, he said, “Lindsay, after I lost your mom, you can’t begin to imagine how miserable I was. You and Bethany were my life. With you away at school and Bethany gone, it seemed like I had no reason to live.”

  When he looked away and stared absently out the front window Lindsay could see the weight of years lining his face.

  “Night after night,” he said sadly, “I sat there all by myself. I didn’t have company and wasn’t looking for any. In the evening I’d come home from work, heat up a TV dinner and plop down in front of the television. I didn’t care what show was on; it was just sounds to fill the emptiness. Some nights I stayed there and slept in the chair, because it was better than climbing into a half-empty bed.”

  He gave a deep sigh then turned back to Lindsay with a look of hopefulness. “I lived that way for almost nine years. Then I ran into Eleanor—”

  “But, Dad, if you were so lonely, why didn’t you ask me to come home?”

  “I thought of it a thousand times, maybe more. But I knew it would be wrong. As much as I wanted to have you home, you had your own life to live.”

  “I would have—”

  “I know you would have. And although that would have been better for me, it wouldn’t have been the best thing for you.”

  He slid his finger beneath her chin and tilted her face to his. “You’re my little girl and I’ve loved you since the day you were born. That will never change. After your mom died, I was miserable and alone, but I loved you enough to let you live your own life. Won’t you please do the same for me now?”

  Lindsay felt a swell in her throat. It was a mix of memories, regrets, sorrow and perhaps a tiny bit of forgiveness. There was so much to say, but she said nothing. Instead she reached across
and hugged her father. It wasn’t an answer, but it was the best she could do at the moment.

  It was the bottom of the third when they entered the stadium. The Phillies had just scored two runs and Hunter Pence was at bat. After three balls and two strikes Hunter hit one over the wall and the crowd went wild. As he rounded the bases everyone in the stadium jumped to their feet, yelling and cheering. Everyone except Lindsay. She was deep in thought and paying little attention to the action.

  After the game they returned to the car and started for home. Although John made no further mention of their discussion about Eleanor, Lindsay couldn’t let go of the memory. The more she thought about it, the more she came to the realization something had to be said. To say nothing would be laying the first brick in what could one day be a wall, a wall so high they’d lose sight of one another.

  As they eased into a line of traffic crossing the Ben Franklin Bridge, she turned to her father and said, “I’m sorry, Dad.”

  “Sorry for what?”

  “Being so selfish.”

  John looked across and smiled. “You’re not selfish, honey. Sometimes change is hard.”

  “Yeah.” Lindsay stared out the window and watched as they drove past colorless buildings and an endless parade of billboards. When she caught sight of a billboard promising “Fun, Fun, Fun!” at an Atlantic City casino, she gave a long and sorrowful sigh.

  “I know I’ve been tough on you, Dad, but it feels like I’m losing everything I care about,” she said. “First it was Phillip, then my job, then the apartment, my friend Sara, and now you.”

  “You’re not losing me. You couldn’t lose me if you tried. I’m your dad. I’ll always be your dad. That’s never going to change. And as for those other things, maybe the truth is some of them weren’t worth having.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” she echoed, but it wasn’t what she was thinking.

  Lindsay was on the verge of returning to thoughts of Phillip when she heard the far off sound of a dog.

  “Did you hear that dog barking?” she asked.

  “Unh-unh.” John shook his head. “Maybe the radio’s stuck.” He reached over and pushed the power button. Music blared. He pushed it again and there was silence.

  “Not the radio,” he said. “Must have come from another car.”

  Lindsay knew the barking hadn’t come from either the radio or another car. She recognized the high-pitched bark. She’d heard it a number of times before.

  ~ ~ ~

  Don’t be lulled into thinking all is well now that Lindsay’s apologized. It’s not. She’s a female with more ups and downs than a rollercoaster. Oh, her apology was genuine enough, but it’s unlikely she can stay with the benevolence she felt at that moment. Jealousy, that’s the problem. Lindsay can’t admit it, because she doesn’t realize it. The issue here is not John’s loyalty to Bethany, it’s that Lindsay is feeling left out. She’s never going to come to terms with Eleanor until she comes to terms with herself. For that to happen I’ve got to increase the distraction factor even more, toss in some confidence and adjust a number of memories. This is way beyond my range of responsibility and if Life Management gets wind of what I’m doing, there will be hell to pay—and I actually do mean hell!

  ~ ~ ~

  During the week before Labor Day, it seemed that Lindsay couldn’t turn around without coming face to face with Eleanor. She was everywhere—in the kitchen, in the living room, stretched out on the backyard chaise. It got so Lindsay began to fear that one morning she would wake to find Eleanor’s face looking up from beneath her bed. Although she tried to avoid being in the same room, it was virtually impossible. Even when Eleanor was absent, reminders of her remained. Gardening magazines were scattered about, a half-finished needlepoint was left in the family room, a ring holder suddenly appeared on the kitchen window sill, and on the bathroom counter there were three bottles of nail polish in peachy-pink colors Bethany would never dream of wearing.

  Although Lindsay did try, she simply could not bring herself to like Eleanor. It was all she could do to hold her tongue when the woman made some affectionate remark to her father. And Eleanor had a habit of calling him “honey” or “sweetheart.” At times she’d even use “sweetie,” which made every last nerve in Lindsay’s body twitch. Bethany had never gone to such extremes. She’d called him John, which was as it should be. Fortunately, after that first day, Eleanor did stick to calling Lindsay by her name.

  On the Saturday before Labor Day, a huge bowl of potato salad appeared in the refrigerator.

  “What’s this for?” Lindsay asked as Eleanor bustled around the kitchen.

  “We’re having a family cookout for Labor Day,” Eleanor replied.

  “Isn’t this a lot of potato salad for three people?”

  “Oh, it’s not just us.” Eleanor smiled. “We’re having the whole family.”

  “What whole family?”

  “Your dad, you, me, my son, Ray, and his wife, Lorraine and Frank—”

  “Aunt Lorraine?”

  Eleanor nodded. “Unh-hunh.”

  “Aunt Lorraine is Mom’s sister.”

  “Yes, I know,” Eleanor said nonchalantly. “Lorraine’s also a member of our garden club. We’ve known each other for years. John and I had dinner with her and Frank a few weeks ago, and we went to this lovely little Italian restaurant…”

  Lindsay couldn’t stop Eleanor from talking but she could close her ears, which is what she did. She watched the woman’s mouth moving and nodded occasionally but refused to listen to another word of the conversation. As soon as she could leave without being deliberately rude, she did so.

  Her bedroom seemed to be the only place that offered an escape from Eleanor, so Lindsay spent much of her time in there. Sitting at the student desk where she’d once done homework, she sent e-mails to friends she hadn’t thought of in over a year, she browsed job listings and, of course, searched every pet adoption site she could find. She knew the dog she wanted, she had the picture of it fixed in her mind, but she had not yet been able to find it. She even telephoned the Small Paws Adoption headquarters to ask about the dog.

  “It’s not one of ours,” the woman said. “I don’t recall ever having such a dog.”

  “It’s probably a Maltese or Bichon,” Lindsay explained. “Grayish-white, scraggly-looking, hair hanging in its eyes?”

  “It’s definitely not one of ours,” the woman said. “We groom our dogs and do a complete health screen before they’re listed.”

  Lindsay thanked the woman for her time, hung up the telephone and went back to the internet. “That dog is somewhere,” she mumbled and started to search again.

  Labor Day dawned with bright sun and clear skies. Lindsay opened one eye and saw the crooked sunbeam cutting across the room. “Darn,” she grumbled. She’d been hoping for rain. Rain would mean Eleanor’s cookout would be canceled, and Lindsay would be spared the agony of the family get-together. She was none too anxious to meet Eleanor’s son, nor was she thrilled with seeing Aunt Lorraine who, as Eleanor’s friend, now seemed to be somewhat of a turncoat. Lindsay skipped breakfast and held off joining the party until her father hollered up the stairs saying she should get a move on.

  When she stepped outside, Lindsay hardly recognized the backyard. On one side was what looked to be a new stainless steel grill twice the size of the one her father previously had, and the lawn was filled with a scattering of snack tables and lounge chairs. She strolled across to where her father was standing.

  “Hey there, sleepyhead.” He laughed then gave a nod to the man standing next to him and said, “Lindsay, this is Ray, Eleanor’s son.”

  “Pleased.” The young man said and stuck his hand out. Although he said pleased, he looked to be nothing of the sort. He had the dour look of someone who wanted to be anywhere other than where he was. Lindsay understood the feeling.

  Turning his body, John said, “And this is—”

  “Shawnee High Cheerleading,” Lindsay said, pointing a fing
er. “Traci Vogel, right?”

  Traci’s face brightened. “Yes, but it’s not Vogel anymore, it’s Barrow.”

  “You’re Eleanor’s daughter-in-law?”

  Traci nodded.

  Other than a few moments of polite conversation with Aunt Lorraine and Uncle Frank, Lindsay spend the remainder of the afternoon talking with Traci. Although they’d been two grades apart and never so much as passed each other in the hallway, Lindsay seemed to remember that Traci was the best of all the cheerleaders and certainly the most agile. Traci in turn recalled how Lindsay had been one of the most popular girls in school. Reminiscing about things that never were as they remembered, the two girls came to like one another.

  ~ ~ ~

  Clever, right? A bit of memory adjustment, but it worked out quite well this time. I seldom use this tactic, because the placement can be rather tricky. In nineteen thirty-nine there was a situation in Philadelphia where I was replacing three months of leading-up-to-divorce memories with some considerably better ones, but instead of going back in time I jumped forward. As soon as that woman realized she knew the outcome of events before they happened she convinced herself she was a psychic. She bought a deck of tarot cards and started a fortune-telling business in the living room of her new apartment. Of course a few weeks down the road she ran out of memories, and that was the end of her predicting things to come. Not only did the business fail, but she was evicted from the apartment for operating a non-authorized business on the premises.

  Individual thoughts are no problem; they’re much more specific and easier to handle. But don’t expect to see another memory replacement anytime soon. Once a decade is more than enough for me.

  Eleanor

  I was pretty apprehensive about the Labor Day cookout, but things went better than I’d expected. I heard Lindsay laughing out loud several times, which really surprised me. Up until then I hadn’t seen her so much as crack a smile.