Home for the Summer

by Holly Chamberlin

  “I guess I never thought that . . .” Bella shook her head. “I never thought that things would change again. That it might not always be just you and me. I don’t know why. I know that life is always changing, even when you don’t want it to.”

  Frieda sighed. “Oh, Bella. If only life were simple and stationary, but it never was and it never will be. That’s the supposed glory of it. Let me tell you something. After Tony died and my father left us Grandma became even closer to Phil than she had been. They became virtually inseparable. At one point I thought about what it would be like if they got married. I know, Phil is gay, but I thought about it all the same. And as much as I loved Phil and considered him a friend, the thought of it not being just my mother and me frightened me. I didn’t want anyone else in our little world, not even someone as wonderful as Phil.”

  “Yeah.” Bella nodded. “I can totally understand that.”

  Frieda reached for her daughter’s hand again. “We’re sacred, the two of us, Bella,” she said. “Don’t ever worry that it won’t always be you and me even if one or both of us get married at some point. I mean no disrespect to our other meaningful relationships, now or to come. I just mean that our relationship can’t be violated. Our love for each other is a constant.”

  Bella nodded. “It’s like you said the other day. Love never fundamentally changes. I thought about that. You might be angry or upset with someone you love, but that doesn’t mean you don’t love him.”

  “And I love you, Bella, with all my heart,” Frieda promised. “I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. Please believe that. And I truly don’t believe that my trying to be happy again will hurt you. All new things feel strange at first, but it doesn’t necessarily mean they’re bad.”

  “I know, Mom.” Bella smiled. “This is so weird. I never thought I’d be talking to my mother about her dating. I always assumed you and Dad would grow old together and that someday Ariel and I would be giving you guys a fiftieth-anniversary party at some nice restaurant where everybody would make a speech about how great it was that two people had been married for so long. But now . . .”

  “I thought so, too,” Frieda said. “That your dad and I would celebrate anniversary after anniversary . . .” Frieda realized that she couldn’t go on.

  “I’m sorry I tried to keep you and Jack apart, Mom.”

  “There’s no need to apologize,” Frieda assured her, wiping a tear from her cheek. “Just promise me you won’t make any more threats to do something scary and unspecified. My mind was coming up with all sorts of horrid scenarios. Remember what we were saying the other day at lunch about how hard it is not to imagine?”

  Bella laughed embarrassedly. “I can’t believe I made a threat like that. It was ridiculous. I would never do anything . . . anything stupid. You have to believe me. I could swear on a Bible or something, like they do in court.”

  “There’s no need for a Bible, and anyway, it’s in the past. Besides,” Frieda admitted, “it wasn’t entirely because of your discomfort that I told Jack I couldn’t spend time with him. I was feeling as if I were betraying your father by even thinking about another man. But I’ve had some heart-to-heart talks with your grandmother and with Phil. They’ve been encouraging me to respect life by embracing it.”

  “Funny,” Bella said. “I was just saying . . . I mean, I was just thinking the same thing. That life is pretty awesome, so you should enjoy it while you can. But not everyone agrees that life is worth living. I guess you can’t judge them because you don’t really know what’s going on inside their head and their heart. Still . . . Still you wish you could convince them otherwise.”

  “Yes,” Frieda agreed. “You can’t judge, but you can try to help. So, assuming that Jack wants to see me again, I’d like you to meet him as soon as possible.”

  “Good. Mom? Is Jack like Dad? I mean, does he remind you of Dad?”

  “No, he doesn’t remind me of your father in any specific ways. But that’s not to say I don’t find myself comparing and contrasting the two on occasion. I know it’s normal, but it’s not necessarily healthy, not if you don’t pretty quickly accept the fact that no person replicates another.” Frieda smiled. “I feel as if I’m not making a lot of sense.”

  “I think I know what you mean,” Bella told her. “Still, does he have some of Dad’s good qualities, like is he honorable and hardworking? Does he respect women, I mean really respect them? Not like those guys who say women are equal and then turn around and make sick jokes about their bodies or something.”

  “Yes,” Frieda said. “I can absolutely assure you that Jack is a good man. Phil agrees, and you know how tough he can be about a person’s character. And I have your grandmother’s word for Jack’s being honorable. Remember, Grandma was a friend of Jack’s wife. She was a witness to their relationship in good times as well as when Veronica got sick.”

  “Okay,” Bella said. “So, when are you going to call him?”

  “Soon. Wish me luck?”

  “I wish you luck, Mom. Honestly. Um, Mom?”

  “What is it?” Frieda asked.

  “Don’t look to your left,” Bella directed. “Seriously, don’t look. Stanley’s back and he’s got something brown and furry in his mouth.”

  Chapter 67

  Frieda got to the café a few minutes before the time she and Jack had agreed to meet. She ordered an iced drink and took it to a counter along one wall where she gave herself a little pep talk while she waited.

  If a romantic relationship between her and Jack was to develop it would not be one born of a “there he is!” moment as her relationship with Aaron had been, but it would be valid nonetheless. Relationships came about in all sorts of ways. What was really important was mutual love, affection, and respect, as well as mutual intention. Frieda clearly recalled what Jack had told her the evening they had gone to the beach with a picnic. He said he liked being in love; he said he liked being a husband. Well, Frieda thought, she liked being in love, too, and she liked being a wife. Surely that counted as mutual intention?

  The door to the café opened and Jack walked inside. He was wearing his ubiquitous aviators. Frieda felt her heart race as he came over to her.

  “Thanks for agreeing to meet me,” Frieda said. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you said no.”

  “There was no chance of my saying no, Frieda,” Jack said. He removed his sunglasses and smiled. “I like you. I’ve liked you since we were kids and you used to wear those braids looped up on either side of your head, like some old-time Bavarian milkmaid.”

  Frieda laughed. “I can’t imagine why I wanted to wear my hair like that! And I can’t believe you remember it.”

  “You stood out from the other girls, and not only because of the braids. Look, let me grab a coffee. I’ll be right back.”

  Frieda watched him order his drink from the unsmiling heavily tattooed barista. Her heart was still racing but now with hope. When Jack rejoined her she smiled. “Since when did coffee become so serious?” she asked.

  Jack took a seat on the stool next to hers. “It must have happened when I wasn’t looking. So, what is it you wanted to talk about?”

  “Us,” Frieda said. “I wanted to say that I would like to spend time with you again.”

  Jack nodded. “Right to the point. I like that. And I would like to spend time with you again, too.”

  “Even after how badly I acted when we last spoke? Jack, I’m so sorry for what I said about your not knowing what it was like to be a parent. A person can understand other lives; of course he can. It’s called sympathy and empathy. It’s called imagination.”

  “You were scared,” Jack said. “None of us act perfectly when we’re scared. Forget about that conversation, Frieda. It’s over.”

  “Still, I’m sorry for running away, which is exactly what I did. I used Bella’s discomfort as an excuse to act on my own discomfort. It wasn’t only Bella who felt I was betraying Aaron by getting to know you.”

 
“Understood. And perfectly normal.” Jack took a sip of his coffee. “Hmmm,” he said. “Nice but not worth the four bucks. Look, have you talked to Bella about our—how should I put it?” Jack smiled. “About our picking up where we left off?”

  “Yes,” Frieda told him after taking a sip of her own coffee. “She said she was sorry she had tried to keep us apart and I believe her. We’ve spent some quality time together in the past few weeks and I think she’ll be okay from now on with my attempting to rebuild my life. There will be bumps in the road, but that’s to be expected.”

  “Time helps,” Jack pointed out. “It’s not a magic bullet, but as time passes we get used to the new normal. And I think that habit counts for a lot of living successfully, and by ‘successfully’ I mean moving purposefully through each day and on to the next with some degree of hope and satisfaction.”

  Living successfully, Frieda thought. It’s something I very much want to do. “I need to be entirely honest with you before one more minute goes by,” she said. “I want you to know what you’re in for with me.”

  “Then tell me,” Jack said quietly.

  “You’ve had so much more time to get past the shock of Veronica’s dying than I’ve had to get past the shock of Aaron’s dying. Sometimes I feel as if he died just last week. Jack, I’m worried that if we go forward now I’ll wind up disappointing you or hurting you again.”

  “I’ll decide what I can and cannot handle,” Jack said firmly. “And you’ll decide what you can and cannot handle. One step at a time.”

  “Are you sure?” Frieda asked. “Really sure?”

  “Yes, I’m really sure. Don’t try to do my thinking for me, Frieda,” Jack told her. “Assumption is a dishonest practice. It allows a person to find just the excuse he needs not to face the future or take a risk.”

  “I never really thought of it that way,” Frieda admitted, “but you’re right. When you assume someone is going to react a certain way you cheat him out of his freedom to surprise you.”

  “Shake on our renewed friendship?”

  Frieda laughed and gave Jack her hand.

  “Good. Now, I’d like to finally meet Bella.”

  “And she wants to meet you,” Frieda assured him. “You know, Bella was always such a positive person until the accident flattened her spirit. But I think I see some of her old spirit coming back. I hope I’m not wrong about that.”

  “I doubt that you are,” Jack told her. “You’re her mother. Who knows her better?”

  Frieda smiled. “Should we plan dinner at The Razor Clam?” she suggested.

  “Why not? All human interaction proceeds more smoothly when food is involved. Plus,” Jack added, “the coffee there is way less expensive.”

  Chapter 68

  Bella, her mother, her grandmother, and George were gathered at the kitchen table. Though Bella was psyched for the big reveal, she couldn’t quite get thoughts of Clara out of her head. I just want to enjoy this moment, she thought, without worrying about what crazy or frightening thing Clara is going to say or do next.

  “Okay,” Ruby Hitchens announced, popping the lid off the plastic container in which she had stored their latest attempt at homemade ice cream. “This is the big moment. Ready?”

  George drew himself up. “As I’ll ever be.” He scooped some of the ice cream into his bowl and with a dramatic gesture he put a large spoonful into his mouth.

  “Well?” Bella asked. “What do you think?”

  “Don’t keep us in suspense, George,” her mother said.

  George swallowed and sighed. “Perfect. You guys did it.”

  “Success at last!” her grandmother cried. “Or maybe just a bit of luck.”

  Bella laughed. “It wasn’t luck. It was my taking charge!”

  “Pride goeth before a fall, Bella,” her mother teased.

  “So,” George asked Bella, spooning out bowls for the others, “was it worth all the effort?”

  “Absolutely. But I’m not giving up on Ben and Jerry’s just yet.”

  “Come on,” her mother said with a laugh. “This is way better than anything you can buy in a store. What flavor should we make next?”

  “Maple walnut,” George suggested. “Just saying.”

  “That might be a bit of a challenge, but you know how I like a challenge. Frieda, Bella, are you in?”

  “Yup,” Bella said. “We’ll nail it.”

  Frieda nodded. “Consider it done, George.”

  Ding ding!

  Bella’s heart began to race. She quickly turned away from the others and pulled her phone from her pocket, half expecting a desperate cry for help. Half dreading . . .

  “Who is it?” her grandmother asked.

  Bella read the message on the screen and sighed with relief. “No one,” she said, turning back. “Just Verizon wanting me to upgrade my service or something.”

  “Good. I mean, for a moment there you looked like you were going to faint.”

  “I’m all right, Grandma,” Bella said, stuffing her phone back into her pocket. “I’m fine. Really.”

  * * *

  Later, when the others had gone out to the front porch to enjoy the sunset, Bella set out to visit the spring Ariel had so loved. She walked along Kinders Lane and then turned onto Grove Hill Lane until she reached the Jernigans’ property. It was a beautiful evening. The sky was various shades of deepening blue. The air felt soft. That Clara—that anyone—could choose to leave all this loveliness behind . . . There were so many simple pleasures in life, like eating ice cream you had made yourself and watching delicate butterflies flitting around colorful flowers and finding an awesome pair of earrings on sale and holding a cuddly baby and hearing a really cool band perform live and watching your favorite movie for the thousandth time. How could anyone want to leave all that good stuff voluntarily?

  But depression was real and it could lead people to take desperate measures. But Bella didn’t know if depression was what was going on with Clara. One thing she did know. No matter how seriously depressed she had been after the accident, she had never wanted anyone else to come to harm. Sure, at Phil’s Independence Day party she had felt resentful of the other guests’ joy, but she hadn’t demanded they stop having fun. Still, Bella had realized with a pang of shame that the “misery loves company” experience was a pale version of Clara’s wanting a companion in suicide. To resent the happiness of others, to presume they were or should be as miserable as you were, was simply not right. It was probably a feeling or a state of mind all human beings experienced, but it definitely wasn’t something that should be indulged.

  And Clara had indulged her need for others to suffer as she was suffering. An argument could easily be made for Bella’s walking away from Clara entirely and for good, but . . .

  Bella breathed a sigh of relief as the spring came into view. Immediately a sense of calm descended upon her and she shivered in the pleasant coolness that always seemed to permeate the air around the spring. She thought of Ariel saying how people in ancient times believed the water of sacred springs could cure illnesses; sometimes people made offerings to appease the god or the spirit associated with the water. It was a superstitious practice, but . . . Why not? Bella thought. She scanned the grass-covered ground for something she could offer and her eye caught sight of a gleaming white pebble, almost perfectly round. It was pretty enough to wear on a chain around your neck.

  Bella crouched by the spring and let the pebble drop into the gently gurgling water. “To the spirit of the spring,” she whispered. “This is a gift for you. Look over my sister, Ariel, please. And if you can, look over my friend Clara, too.”

  What she had just done might result in nothing tangible at all, but Bella felt no embarrassment or remorse. In fact, offering the pebble to the spirit of the spring could probably be seen as an act of prayer. And people who knew about such things said that prayer never hurt anyone. Bella got to her feet and turned in the direction of home, where her loved ones were waiting.
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  Chapter 69

  Sitting in a rocking chair on the shaded front porch of your home on a beautiful summer day, all alone and reading a book by one of your favorite writers, was as close to heaven as one might hope to get on this earth. Close, Ruby thought, but not for long, for there was Frieda’s car turning onto Kinders Lane and, a few moments later, pulling into the driveway.

  “What, ho, Frieda!” she called.

  “Watching British television again?” Frieda asked as she climbed the porch steps and dropped into the chair next to Ruby.

  “No.” Ruby indicated the book on her lap. “Rereading some P. G. Wodehouse. Where were you just now?”

  “With Jack. There’s an exhibit of old local maps at the historical society in Wells. It’s a lovely old building. I’d never been inside it before; can you imagine?”

  Ruby looked closely at her daughter. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind other than old maps.”

  Frieda smiled. “There’s never any use in trying to hide things from your mother. I don’t know why I even try. It’s just that now Jack and I are spending time together again I’m a bit worried I’ll start using him as a crutch. How can I tell if I’m really falling in love or if I’m just grateful to have someone I can depend on to ‘fix’ things like Aaron used to?”

  “Might I point out,” Ruby said, “that you and Aaron were a team? You were partners. You ‘fixed’ things for him, too.”

  “But that was then,” Frieda argued. “Things are different now.”

  Ruby nodded. “I know.”

  “Right before I asked Jack if he was interested in resuming our friendship I told myself that I didn’t have to prove to anyone that I was tough enough to stand on my own. I told myself that wanting a marriage was not a sign of weakness.”

  “And it’s not,” Ruby said. “It can be a sign of maturity.” So what does that say about me? she added silently. Running from it like it’s the plague.