Rosemary Run Box Set

by Kelly Utt

  The twins laughed knowingly as if they were still middle-school girls. In fact, Bea thought they looked like middle-school girls, giggling in the rain under matching plaid umbrellas. Their coordinating rubber boots completed their outfits.

  Bea was two years younger and often the butt of her sisters’ jokes. Thankfully, Ruth and Natalie lived in Sacramento now. Even though it was less than a two-hour drive, the pair seldom came home to Rosemary Run for a visit. Ruth was married with a couple of kids, while Natalie’s life seemed to be in suspended animation, waiting to begin. It didn’t help matters that the twins were joined at the hip. Bea had always figured that only so many men would go for such a setup. And, truth be told, she’d wondered why Ruth’s husband, Steve Robeson, had. But who was Bea to judge? Her marriage to John was far from perfect.

  “You two scared me,” Bea said, the meek demeanor she exhibited around her big sisters taking over. Her change of disposition was probably a good thing. Bea knew she needed to calm down and think. “Is anyone else out there with you?”

  “Just us,” Natalie said. “Who were you expecting?”

  Bea eased her head outside the studio door and looked around. Satisfied, she slowly lowered her hand and returned the paintbrushes to their resting spot on the easel. “Come in,” she said. “You’re getting all wet out there.”

  “Oh,” Ruth responded without moving to enter the studio. “We were hoping we’d entice you to join us in the house. We were just there, having tea with Mom in the living room.”

  “Until the phone rang...” Natalie added coyly. Ruth jabbed her twin in the side with an elbow. Another inside joke for the two of them.

  Bea’s innards turned to mush as a fresh wave of nausea moved through her body. Did they know? She put an arm out to steady herself against the door frame. She could feel the color drain from her face.

  “What is it, Bumble?” Ruth asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Bea shook her head, trying to shake it off. “Nothing’s wrong,” she said in the most convincing voice she could manage. “I’m… fine.”

  “You sure about that?” Ruth pressed, peering into the studio. “It looks like you spilled some paint.”

  “Fine,” Bea assured. “Tea with Mom sounds lovely. I’ll just get my umbrella.”

  Bea closed the door behind her and leaned hard against it. She tilted her head back and looked up, willing herself to hold it together. She stayed like that for a few moments until the ceiling stopped spinning. Then she collected her umbrella, exited her studio, and followed her sisters through the back door of her house, stepping over Marmalade along the way.

  3

  “Everybody’s here!” Ruth chirped as the family gathered in the living room. Ever the ringleader, she acted like it was her home instead of Bea’s.

  Lena Denton was sitting in her usual easy chair with a blank look on her face. Bea couldn’t tell from her mother’s expression whether she had been the one listening on the telephone line. Max was there, too, apparently cajoled downstairs by his aunts. Bea thought at age fourteen, her son would be easy enough to decipher. But not so. She couldn’t tell if Max knew something. The suspense was excruciating.

  “So, what brings you ladies in from Sacramento?” Bea asked. She hoped her nervousness wasn’t too obvious to the others. She tended to be nervous around her sisters, even during the best of times. “You two rarely visit during the middle of the work week. There must be a special reason you’re here today.”

  Ruth was a high-earning real estate agent, blissfully busy with clients, showings, and contracts. She could set her own schedule and successfully tended to the needs of her kids as far as Bea could tell, but she never liked to be away for long. Natalie owned a title and escrow company which both benefited from the steady flow of business Ruth referred and provided a reliable foundation for the real estate powerhouse to lean on. To see both Ruth and Natalie away from their bustling, symbiotic businesses like this was unusual.

  “Yes, my loves,” Lana added, breaking out of her trance. “To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?”

  Bea was relieved to hear her mother speak. Judging by her voice, it didn’t seem like Lana was rattled. If she had been listening to the call Bea received, she would most definitely have been rattled. Or so Bea thought.

  Ruth and Natalie looked at each other and grinned. They were up to something, that was for sure. Bea was curious, but had a lot on her mind and wanted to get whatever pomp and circumstance the twins had up their sleeves over with as quickly as possible.

  “Go on,” Bea prompted. “You obviously have something to say. Whatever it is, spit it out.”

  Max looked down at his hands impatiently and popped a few knuckles. There was probably a video game he’d rather be playing right now. He had only been out of school for a little while and would need to start on his homework soon. Bea thought he looked bothered. She hoped it was because of missing out on a game and not because he had overheard her telephone conversation. Her son was growing up fast. But Bea knew if he had been the one listening in, bringing up such a tense topic would be a chore for Max. He was a quiet introvert who didn’t like conflict any more than his mother did. Whatever genes allowed John his ease in the spotlight had not been passed on to his child. When Max spoke up, it was because something was very important to him.

  “We have an announcement!” Natalie exclaimed, practically jumping around the room.

  “That’s right,” Ruth confirmed. “We’re visiting in the middle of the work week because we are doing work, right here in Rosemary Run.”

  “Wait,” Bea said, raising a hand in anticipation of what she suspected was coming. “What?”

  Lana and Max weren’t piecing it together yet. Both were clearly confused.

  “Are you working from our house today?” Max asked. “You could use my laptop.”

  Bea shot a loving glance at her sweet boy. He was such a generous soul.

  “No, not exactly, but that’s a nice offer,” Natalie said to her nephew. Bea had always thought Natalie was better with kids than Ruth, even though she hadn’t given birth to any of her own. She had a way with them that was plain to see. Max smiled back. He loved his aunts, despite considering them dramatic and crazy.

  “Then what?” Max asked.

  Natalie and Ruth looked at each other again, reveling in their shared secret. It seemed as though they almost didn’t want to tell it, for then it would be out in the open rather than hidden, theirs to share alone.

  “Well?” Lana prompted.

  “Okay, okay,” Ruth said with a smile. “We won’t keep you in suspense any longer. Natalie and I are opening an office for the real estate company and the title company right here in Rosemary Run! And we want Bumble to run it.”

  Bea was floored. Was this a cruel trick?

  “Well,” Ruth added. “I don’t mean Bumble would run it all by herself. We wouldn’t expect that. Natalie and I will come into town from time to time to check up on things. And we will be in close touch via phone and email. But Bumble will be Office Manager, if she wants the job.”

  Bea tried to hide the shock on her face, but wasn’t successful. Her twin sisters had picked on her and talked down to her for so many years. The only saving grace was that they didn’t live in town and thus didn’t have involvement with her day-to-day life. This new arrangement threatened to destroy the carefully constructed sense of peace Bea thought she had carved out for herself. Not to mention, she was insulted at how Ruth and Natalie thought she needed their pity. Bea had a career as an artist, though no one in her family seemed to take it seriously anymore.

  “Say thank you, Bea, dear,” her mother urged after a moment of tense silence had passed.

  “Don’t tell her what to say, Grandma,” Max interjected. “She can speak for herself.”

  “It’s okay, son,” Bea finally said, finding her voice.

  Bea thought it was actually a good offer. She might have considered taking it if she wer
en’t faced with being persecuted for her crime. Her art career had, in fact, stalled, even though she hated to admit it.

  For a time, before John came into her life and Max was born, Bea had exhibited in swanky New York City galleries. She had routinely packed posh lofts with wealthy patrons, leaving standing room only. She had often sold out of every piece of artwork she had on hand, then had created new pieces on spec. Those were the days. Life was simpler by comparison.

  Bea could not have realized how her world would change when John walked into her gallery. He was in town on a business trip to the Big Apple and just so happened to stumble in. He was older at nearly forty, while Bea was in her mid-twenties. She surprised herself by being interested in an older man. There was something about John that made her feel all grown up and appreciated. He had a charisma which couldn’t be denied. And he treated her nicely. Coincidentally, John lived in the wine country town of Rosemary Run, California. The very same Rosemary Run where Bea had grown up and where her parents still lived. It felt like fate. The pair had barely been dating six months when Bea agreed to pack up and move back home to the West Coast to be with her beau. Besides, her father’s health was failing, and she wanted to be nearby for what little time he had left.

  “Hello? Earth to Bumble Bea,” Ruth said, putting a hand on one hip and snapping her little sister back to the present. “We’ve just made you an offer you would be foolish to refuse. What’s the problem?”

  Bea noticed how Max bristled at the nickname. Perhaps her son saw family dynamics more clearly than she did.

  “Mom already has a job,” Max said solidly. “She’s a famous artist. She has an art degree and everything.”

  Bea felt a hand shoot up to cover her mouth. Something about Max’s sincere adoration made her suddenly feel like she was falling apart. When it came to her love for her only child, everything else paled by comparison. She didn’t care if she sold out art galleries anymore. Not really. She didn’t care that her sisters teased her. Or that her marriage had become a mere shell of its former self. She’d gladly trade it all for simple days with Max. Mom duties such as washing his clothes, making her boy dinner, and talking with him about what had happened in school were fulfilling in a way that nothing else had ever been. Bea just wanted more of the same, uninterrupted. After all, in four short years, Max would be off to college and their days of easy togetherness would come to an end. Assuming Bea wasn’t taken away sooner to pay for what she’d done. She knew she had to focus all her energy on finding the person who knew about it.

  “Nat, Ruthie,” Bea began, the nicknames she’d given them not carrying near the same weight as her own. “That’s a wonderful, kind offer. It means the world to me. Honestly, I never thought you would extend me such an opportunity. I’m honored.”

  “She’ll do it!” Natalie said, getting ahead of her little sister.

  “Not so fast,” Max quipped. “She isn’t done.”

  Bea took a deep breath. She knew her sisters would be prone to act badly if she didn’t cooperate with their every whim. Bea certainly didn’t want to get into the middle of a dramatic scene today, of all days.

  “Humph. She’s actually going to turn us down,” Ruth muttered under her breath. “That little…”

  “No need to call names,” Lana said quietly. She wanted her daughters to get along, but she had never been able to make it happen. Her husband, Freddy Denton, had been the disciplinarian.

  “I’m so sorry,” Bea said sheepishly.

  4

  Thanks to the Denton twins, full-blown chaos had descended on the Hughes household by the time John returned from work. He was home earlier than usual. Bea wondered if someone had urged him to come early. She wondered if the robotic voice had called him and told him about what she’d done. After all, if the caller had her home number, they surely knew how to reach John at the office.

  “I see we have company,” John grumbled as he came in the back door. The sounds of Ruth and Natalie’s loud gabbing took over the space and were impossible to ignore. John gave his wife an obligatory peck on the cheek as she scooted over to greet him.

  “We do,” Bea whispered, facing John to catch him up privately. “A surprise visit.”

  John shot her a look of disdain as he set down his briefcase and loosened his tie. “I prefer planning things ahead of time. You know that. I’d say I’ve been more than accommodating by letting your mother live with us. Isn’t that enough? And what are you wearing? You have dried paint all over yourself. Come on, Beatrice, make an effort.”

  “I know,” Bea replied, pleading with her eyes in the hopes he wouldn’t make a scene. She couldn’t tell him about the phone call which had caused her to spill paint. She couldn’t tell him about any of her personal struggles. There was nothing new there.

  “Don’t mind us, John,” Ruth said, boisterously, from across the room. “Natalie and I are heading back to Sacramento shortly. We came to make your wife a generous offer. In true character, she refused.”

  “How sad,” John said, kissing Ruth, and then Natalie, on the cheek. He flashed his best megawatt smile and turned on the charm for their benefit. Bea hated how the three of them treated her like a child. She hated how they talked about her like she wasn’t there. “What was the offer?”

  “We should probably let her tell you herself,” Natalie piped in. “Ruth and I have spent enough energy on our ungrateful little sister today. Suffice to say, we handed her the perfect opportunity to get out of that miserable shed and do something productive with her life. Only heaven knows why she wants to stay in such a rut.”

  Bea shook her head, but so slightly that no one else noticed. She wasn’t sure they would have noticed no matter what she did. A familiar, docile feeling washed over her, pinning her arms at her sides and her mouth shut with its invisible, gooey binding. Bea was used to staying quiet and out of the way. She knew she had lost herself at some point, but her doormat responses had become a habit. A crutch. A punishment even. Maybe she was punishing herself for the bad thing she had done. Either way, it was what everyone expected of her now.

  “I’m sorry,” Bea said, running her fingers over a section of hard, cracked paint on her blouse.

  “Yeah, you said that already,” Ruth replied with a snarl. “Your gravelling doesn’t make it right. You’ve disrespected your family, Bumble. Have you no shame?”

  In the early part of their marriage, John would have come to his wife’s defense. He would not have let her sisters talk down to her like this. But things had changed. While other people were watching, John was prone to acting like he was a real peach of a guy and that everything was okay, albeit less than perfect. Behind closed doors though, it was another story. His quick temper and cutting insults were dispensed regularly in Bea’s direction.

  Bea had tried to leave John once. In fact, she had started up an affair with a good and kind man who lived in a neighboring town by the bay. Travis Earl had been the real thing. The chemistry between them had been off the charts, probably in no small part because he was Bea’s age and she thought of him as a peer rather than a father figure. Travis was tall and muscular with a plush head of thick, dark hair which appeared vibrant and oh, so gloriously youthful as compared to John’s gray, receding hairline and withering frame. Travis owned his own business building handcrafted furniture and selling it out of a quaint showroom. His back was broad and his hands were strong in a way that John’s could never be, given his daily work behind a desk. Travis stirred something deep within Bea. Being with him felt right. Maybe it had something to do with their shared love of creating with their hands. Whatever the case, if circumstances had been different and the incident hadn’t happened, Bea could have seen herself splitting up with John, marrying Travis and living happily ever after. It would have been a drastically different existence from the one she was trapped within now.

  “Leave her alone,” Max said, making his way into the room and hugging his mother’s neck. Bea didn’t want to lean on him too much
. He was still a child. But his attention was her lifeline.

  “It’s okay, Max,” she said to her son. Her voice was strong and calm when she spoke to him. She could hear the difference. A fleeting thought occurred to Bea that her body was like a barometer of sorts. It knew what was right and good. Maybe someday she’d have the courage to listen to it.

  “Good evening, sport,” John said to his son, walking over to give him a high five. John was usually careful that Max didn’t see or hear his ill treatment of Bea. And Bea thanked goodness for that. In Max’s young mind, his aunts were the only adversaries Bea needed defending from.

  “Hi, Dad,” Max replied timidly.

  Young Max was irritated with his aunts for picking on Bea. And Bea realized her son was probably frustrated that he had to come to her defense. A part of her knew that she should stand up for herself because it would be better for Max if she did so. The thought of it sent a shiver down her spine. She didn’t want to fail her son. Of all the things she didn’t want, it was that most of all. But she was just so immobilized with guilt that had turned into shame. She didn’t know how she would find her way out.

  “Are you hungry, son?” John asked Max.

  “Yeah, I am,” Max said. He was smack in the middle of that notorious teenage-boy growth phase and he was always hungry.

  “Have you prepared anything for dinner?” John asked, turning to his wife and shooting a dirty look in her direction.

  Bea’s face turned red under the scrutiny of John’s words. She had been so caught up by the fear of the anonymous caller and then the drama with her sisters that she hadn’t even thought about dinner. She felt like a bad mom. And a bad wife. Yet she wondered how she could expect herself to function normally knowing that her world might crumble at any moment. With another ring of the telephone or a knock on the door, it could all come to an end. The realization was terrifying.

  “No, I’m sorry,” Bea said, her shoulders slumped forward. “I’ll get something together.”