by Debby Mayne
“It wasn’t a bit of trouble. I want you to relax.”
“That looks so nice.” Aunt Mary lifted a cup and poured herself some tea. “It’s not easy talking about what happened, but I suppose it’s time you knew.”
Bethany prepared her own cup of tea and then chose a chair adjacent to the sofa so she could face her aunt. “I have to admit, there have been times I’ve wondered if something happened to make you . . . um . . . I don’t know . . . not want to come back to Bloomfield.” She gave her aunt what she hoped came across as a loving smile. “I’ve been worried about you.”
Aunt Mary flipped her hand from the wrist as Naomi often did, and Bethany glanced down at her own hand, wondering how often she might have done that herself. “You never have to worry about me.” She took a sip of her tea and grimaced. “I just have these inner demons I need to deal with periodically.”
“We all have our demons.”
Aunt Mary set her cup and saucer on the end table and nodded. She folded her hands in her lap. “Ready to hear about mine?”
Bethany nodded. “I guess.”
“Okay, here goes.” Her aunt sighed and sank lower into her seat. She closed her eyes, moved her lips as though in prayer, and finally looked Bethany in the eye. “It happened a long time ago. One of your mother’s younger friends held a belated wedding shower for Andy’s wife Cheryl. They’d been planning a wedding but decided to elope because the guest list and the arrangements had gotten so out of hand.” She cleared her throat as tears formed in her eyes. Her chin quivered as she looked at Bethany.
Alarms went off in Bethany’s head. “Aunt Mary, you don’t have to talk about this if it’s so distressing.”
“No, that’s okay. You probably need to know. I wish my sister had told you, but I think she might have been afraid it would change your opinion of me, and she knows how well we get along.”
Now Bethany wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear another word, but she didn’t want to upset Aunt Mary more than she already was. She nodded and lowered her head for a few seconds before looking back at her aunt.
Aunt Mary continued. “Since Cheryl and Andy lived fairly close to me, we agreed she would ride with me. When I got to their house, she said she wanted to drive because their car was bigger and could hold the gifts. I agreed.” She sniffled, so Bethany handed her a tissue from the box on the table. “Everyone was having such a good time, and the shower ran later than expected. I needed to leave early, because I had to go to work the next morning. Cheryl got her keys to leave with me because my car was at her house. Since the shower was in her honor, that didn’t seem right. Your mother offered to drive me to her house to pick up my car, so I told Cheryl to stay.”
Bethany could see where this was going. “You don’t have to say any more.”
Aunt Mary held up a hand. “No, I need to get this out. It’s been bottled up inside me for so long, I feel like I might explode.”
“Okay, I understand.” Bethany took a deep breath and slowly let it out, hoping her aunt couldn’t hear how shaky it was.
“Anyway, Cheryl actually argued with me and said she really didn’t mind leaving. I finally put my foot down and insisted she stay.” Her lips quivered as she tried to smile. “I even played the guilt card, saying she had to stay since she was the guest of honor, and it would be rude to leave before the rest of the guests.”
Now Bethany understood why Aunt Mary had such a difficult time dealing with this. It wasn’t rational, but guilt generally wasn’t.
“Your mother drove me to my car, and then I went home and went straight to bed. The next morning . . .” Her body shook as tears streamed down her cheeks. “The next morning, I was awakened by the phone call . . . the one informing me that Cheryl had been in a fatal car wreck on her way home from the shower.” Her body shook as she lowered her head into her hands.
Bethany got up from her chair and sat down next to her aunt. As she placed her arm around the woman who’d been living with guilt for nearly forty years, she understood so much more about situations that had happened over the years—the main one being why Aunt Mary had avoided Andy. There were other situations Aunt Mary had avoided as well—like participating in garden club social events and bridal showers for other friends. Knowing Andy, he never would have placed the blame on her aunt, but that didn’t make things any better for her.
Aunt Mary pulled back and turned to face Bethany. “If I hadn’t insisted on her staying and your mother driving me to my car, Cheryl never would have been in the path of that drunk driver who crossed the median and killed her.” Her chin quivered as she continued. “She’d still be here, living in Bloomfield, probably a happy mother of a houseful of Andy’s kids.”
“Maybe not.”
“She and Andy couldn’t wait to have children.”
Naomi’s advice rang in Bethany’s head, so she repeated it. “There are so many what-ifs in life that if we dwell on them, we can make ourselves crazy.”
“I know all that. Your mother and I heard it all our young lives from our mother. But don’t you understand why this is different? It’s not like things just happened. I argued with her. My last words were intended to make her feel guilty if she left the shower.” Her body shook as she buried her face in her hands. “It was supposed to be a celebration. I played on her guilt, and look how things wound up.”
Bethany took Aunt Mary’s hands in hers and squeezed them. “But don’t you see? Your last words to her are making you feel guilty, which is ludicrous because your intentions were so honorable.”
She half shrugged and then nodded. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“You were,” Bethany said. “You can’t look back and worry about things you can’t change.”
“But look at what happened. A beautiful, smart young woman was killed because I thought things should be a certain way. My bossiness caused her to die in a flash, her sweet young husband to be widowed before their lives together had a chance to gain traction, and—”
“Sweet? Are you talking about Andy?” Andy had quite a few positive traits, and she had seen the occasional softer side, but she wouldn’t use the word sweet to describe him. He was honorable and kind, but he also had a gruff demeanor that was much saltier than sweet. “He’s a grouch.”
“I think I caused his grouchiness. After Cheryl died, he went into a shell and didn’t bother with anyone, that is, until Pamela’s husband passed away. Some of the folks from church encouraged him . . .” She made a face. “Or rather pushed him to be there to comfort her, and next thing we all knew, they were an item. I’d already left town by then, but your mother tried to use that to bring me back saying Andy was over his grief.”
“But you weren’t over your grief . . . or guilt.”
Aunt Mary instantly stilled, blinked, and finally nodded. “You’re right. And I’m still not over it.”
“Obviously.”
“So that’s why I may not be able to stay in Bloomfield. Being here brings back too many bad memories. You understand.”
“Yes, I do, but being here should bring back good memories too. Remember when you and I used to hang out at the soda shop in back of the drugstore?”
Aunt Mary grinned. “Of course I do. Your mother used to fuss at me when you wouldn’t eat your supper, because I couldn’t say no when you wanted French fries and sodas.”
“And the times when we went to festivals together? Mom was always working hard with the garden club and didn’t take time to have fun with me. But even though you had stuff to do, you didn’t seem to mind kicking back and laughing with your needy niece.”
“Yes, but remember I didn’t have a family to tend to like your mother did. Between her family and garden club commitments, there was little time left for fun.”
“True, and I understand that after having my own daughter.” Bethany sighed. “But that doesn’t take anything awa
y from our relationship. I would love for you to move back here so we can recapture some of those happier days.”
“I don’t have to move back for that.”
True. Bethany reached for her aunt’s hand. “Why don’t we say a prayer? We’re both obviously dealing with things that are bigger than we can handle on our own.”
“Good idea.”
They bowed their heads and prayed in silence for a moment before Bethany spoke. “Lord, I pray that You work on our hearts, help us to forgive, and allow others to forgive us. Show us the way You want us to go.”
When she paused, Aunt Mary took over. “And Lord, thank You for this time I’m able to spend with my sweet niece Bethany who has always given to others without regard to what she wants.” After they both said, “Amen,” they opened their eyes and smiled.
Aunt Mary placed her hand on Bethany’s shoulder. “Now it’s my turn to give you advice. Stop trying to recapture happier days from the past and start enjoying the present.”
Bethany held her aunt’s gaze for several seconds. “That sounds good, but it’s not so easy, you know?”
“Yes, I do know. When the past is painful, it’s difficult to see the beauty and joy of the present and future.” She waved her hands around the room. “I suspect that’s why you’re having such a hard time getting rid of some of this clutter.” Her lips quivered as she smiled. “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”
Before Bethany could comment, a knock sounded at the door. “I better go see who that is.”
Aunt Mary’s playfulness returned as she picked up a pillow and pretended to hide behind it. “If they’re looking for me, I’m not here.”
Bethany laughed at the common line she and Aunt Mary used to share back when times were happier and simpler. She got up and went to answer the door.
“Hey, Bethany.” Pete grinned at her. “Mind if I come in?”
She took a step back and made a sweeping gesture toward the foyer. “Come on in and join the party.”
He gave her a curious look as he hesitated. “Party? I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”
Aunt Mary stood. “You’re not interrupting a thing, Pete. Come on in. I was just leaving.” She avoided letting Pete see her reddened eyes as she leaned over and gave Bethany a hug and kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for everything, sweetie. Give me a call later, and I’ll come back to help you sort through some more of your stuff.”
Pete sensed something he couldn’t describe as he followed Bethany through her house. Her aunt had smiled and tried to act normal, but whatever happened before he arrived created tension in the air. Once again his timing was off, but how could he have possibly known?
“It’s been quite a day, hasn’t it?” he said once they reached the kitchen.
She set down the refreshment tray on the counter beside the sink and started unloading it without looking at him. “It sure has. I don’t understand why Andy can’t just leave his bird at home.”
Pete lifted his hands, palms up. “You saw what the bird did in the community center. I can only imagine what he’s done to Andy’s house.”
“True. But I would think that if he wants to take him out in public, he could train him to behave . . . or put a lock on the cage.”
“Not that I know this first hand, but according to rumor, Murray gets so mad when he’s alone for any amount of time, he can be heard squawking and kicking up a fuss a block away.” Pete chuckled. “I suspect that’s why Andy carries the bird around. He even takes him to the fire hall when he’s on duty.”
“Too bad his sister didn’t leave him a Dalmatian.” Bethany wiped off the tray and stuck it in a cabinet before turning around. “What does the bird do when there’s a fire?”
“I’m sure he hangs around the firehouse waiting for the crew to return.”
As they chatted about Andy’s parrot, Pete realized this conversation was more about keeping the subject safe. He sensed Bethany’s discomfort whenever he mentioned anything related to feelings or the past. Immediately after Charlie’s passing, he understood, but enough time had elapsed, and he felt she should be willing to move on with her life. The problem was, he didn’t know how to change the subject without being obvious.
“Do you want something to drink?” Bethany folded her arms as she looked at him.
“No, as a matter of fact, I can’t stay long. I just wanted to stop by after I heard what happened. I thought you might need consoling after all your stuff was broken.”
Her body tensed, but she shook her head. “It wasn’t my stuff anymore.”
“I know, but still . . .”
She forced a chuckle. “I’m okay, but it’s too bad we have fewer prizes and rummage sale items to lure people to Bloomfield.”
He noted the sarcasm and nodded. “Yeah, we might lose a few people who had their hearts set on a bunch of ceramics. We’ll just have to think of something else to lure them with.”
“I agree with all the garden club members. I think Bloomfield has a lot to offer, and maybe if Pamela would relax a little and enjoy some of our amenities without worrying about the population, it would happen on its own.”
“You know that’s not going to happen. Pamela will never leave anything to chance.” Pete took a step back. “I best be leaving, but before I do, would you like to do something later?”
“I don’t know.” She gave him a contrite glance before looking away. “I mean, I’m really busy, and I’ve never been much of a night person, and it’s getting late . . .”
Pete let out a sigh of exasperation. He wished he knew what it would take to get through to her—to bring back the fun-loving Bethany he once knew. Charlie was a fortunate man, and he knew it. Pete often wished he’d been the one who had asked her out first, but once Charlie laid claim to her, no way would Pete do anything to interfere.
He opened his mouth to persuade her to go out when another knock came at the door. “Want me to get that?”
“That would be nice,” Bethany said as she made one of her funny faces. “Honestly! It’s like Grand Central Station around here lately.” She nodded toward the door. “I need to put the rest of these things away.”
Pete opened the door to Andy, who clung to the birdcage with one hand, a bouquet of flowers in the other, and wore a sheepish expression. “Hey, Andy, what brings you here?”
Andy shot him one of his grumpiest looks. “Are you Bethany’s bodyguard?”
“Does she need one?”
“I don’t know, does she?”
“Maybe.” Pete nodded toward the bird. “As long as he’s around.”
“Touché.” Andy tilted his head forward. “Mind if we come in?”
“I guess that would be all right.” He took a step back and closed the door behind Andy. “Why don’t you and your bird have a seat, and I’ll go get her?”
As Pete took off toward the kitchen, he overheard Andy mumbling something about gatekeepers to Murray. He sure hoped he didn’t resort to talking to birds when he reached Andy’s age in about twenty years.
“Who was at the door?” Bethany asked.
“Andy, and he’s waiting for you in the living room.” He paused. “With his bird.”
Bethany groaned as she wiped her hands on the dishtowel. “What do they want?”
“I think they have a peace offering.”
She gave him a shaky smile as she tossed the towel to the counter. “Okay, I guess that’s probably a good thing. Stick with me, okay?”
“I’ll be right there.”
As they approached the living room, Andy stood and thrust the bouquet toward Bethany. Once she accepted it, he lifted Murray’s cage to put the bird at eye level with her. “What did I tell you to say?”
“Bad birdie . . . squawk . . . bad birdie!”
“True,” Andy replied with a pretend scowl. “But what did I say to tell her?�
��
“Tell the girl you’re sorry . . . squawk!”
Andy glared at his bird. “Say I’m sorry, Murray.”
Murray fluttered his wings, shook his head, and stepped side-to-side on his perch. “Say I’m sorry, Murray . . . squawk . . . Say I’m sorry, Murray.”
Andy put the cage on the floor and cast an apologetic look at Bethany. “I did the best I could in the short time I had. It generally takes hours and hours of repeating the same words over and over before it becomes part of his vocabulary.”
“That’s okay, Andy.” Bethany leaned down and looked at the bird. “As for you, I accept your apology. Just don’t ever do that again.”
Murray hung his head. “Bad birdie . . . squawk . . . bad birdie.”
“Yes, bad birdie.” Bethany straightened to look at Andy. “I appreciate all this, but you really didn’t have to—”
Andy lifted a hand. “There’s something else . . . a favor. I really hate to do this, considering what happened this afternoon, but I’ve exhausted all of my other options.”
A bad feeling washed over Pete. Whatever Andy was about to say had to be a zinger for him to preface it with so much drivel.
“A favor?” Bethany tilted her head.
“Would you mind keeping an eye on Murray for a couple of hours? The bird-sitter I had lined up got sick, and—”
Pete held his breath as Bethany opened her mouth. He hated the fact that Andy had put her on the spot, but he was helpless to do a thing.
“I’m so sorry, Andy, but Pete and I have plans to go out in a little while.” She smiled. “Maybe some other time?”
Chapter 10
Once they were settled in Pete’s truck two hours later, he stuck the key in the ignition, but then paused and turned to her. “I’m glad you decided to go out with me. I have to admit, though, I was surprised.” He grinned. “Still am, but I’m not complaining. You look pretty.”
He’d told her to wear something nice, so she took a little extra time getting ready. She smoothed the sides of her satin blouse but didn’t look directly at him. “Surprised?”