by Julie Allan
The Heart Knows It
by
Julie Allan
The Heart Knows It
by Julie Allan
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Copyright © Palmettos and Pearls Publishing, 2016
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All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.
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This book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, character, incidents, and locations within are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.
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Palmettos and Pearls Publishing, LLC
Mount Pleasant, SC
Distributed by Bublish, Inc.
Cover Artwork by Berge Design
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Publisher’s Cataloging-In-Publication Data (Prepared by The Donohue Group, Inc.) Names: Allan, Julie, 1968- Title: The heart knows it / Julie Allan. Description: Mount Pleasant, SC : Palmettos and Pearls Publishing, LLC, [2016] | [Place of distribution not identified] : Bublish, Inc., [2016] | Series: A Lowcountry home novel ; book 2 Identifiers: ISBN 978-1-946229-03-8 | ISBN 1-946229-03-2 | ISBN 978-1-946229-04-5 (ebook) | ISBN 1-946229-04-0 (ebook) Subjects: LCSH: Women--South Carolina--Fiction. | Adult children of aging parents--Fiction. | Cancer in men--Fiction. | Female friendship--Fiction. | Families--Fiction. | South Carolina--Fiction. | Chick lit, American. | LCGFT: Domestic fiction. Classification: LCC PS3601.L536 H43 2016 (print) | LCC PS3601.L536 (ebook) | DDC 813/.6--dc23
This book is dedicated to two women who left this earth well before their time. The first, Veronica Doyle, a feisty Irish woman who was like a second mom to me. The second, Alison Brooks, who fought her battle with cancer with grace. Both women walked in faith and touched the hearts of all who knew them. They are loved and missed. One thing I know for sure is my life was blessed for having known them.
Chapter 1
Lizzie sat on the bench outside St. Luke’s Episcopal Church with Aunt Dorothy. The tall stuccoed walls keeping them in the shade. When the weather was pleasant, the church often had a meet and greet—otherwise known as the coffee and cookie hour—on the front lawn. Her husband Bennett had gone to fetch some coffee for the ladies. Their 12-year-old daughter Dot was hanging out with her friends and their 8-year-old son Sawyer had run off to the cookie table. Lizzie closed her eyes and thought back to the days when she and Bennett had raided that same cookie table as children. Now they were a family, a branch of the Wilson family that had attended St. Luke’s for generations.
Aunt Dorothy looked up at the sky, shielding her Carolina blue eyes with her hand. “What a lovely day.”
“Yes, it really is,” Lizzie replied as she gently tucked a rebellious strand of Aunt Dorothy’s silver hair back into place. Life was coming full circle. Years before Aunt Dorothy would have instinctively fixed Lizzie’s hair and now Lizzie was the caregiver. Lizzie had been part of this church community since she was a little girl. She had been married twice in this church and had attended more than a dozen christenings, two of them were for her children. This is where she had also said goodbye to many loved ones—more than she cared to count. Uncle George—Aunt Dorothy’s husband—had been gone a little over sixteen years. It had been just two years ago when Mr. and Mrs. Lee had passed on within weeks of each other. Lizzie smiled at the thought of the Lee’s. Both of them had been part of Lizzie and Bennett’s life for as long as she could remember. Both had been life-long friends to Aunt Dorothy and Uncle George. Mrs. Lee, back when she was Mrs. McGantry, a rather upright widow, had been their Sunday school teacher right here at St. Luke’s. It was a late in life romance for the Lee’s and Lizzie had been a witness to it. Their love story had encouraged her to believe that it was never too late for her and Bennett. Both of them had been part of Lizzie and Bennett’s life for as long as she could remember. Lizzie felt as if the stones of the church had born witness to so many milestones, blessings, and trials. She believed that they all had become a part of her, or she a part of them. Either way, there was such great comfort in this place.
“I hope my funeral will be a day like this,” Aunt Dorothy said, rousing Lizzie from her tranquil reflections. “What on earth would make you think of something like that?” Lizzie asked, her rising voice betraying her effort to appear calm.
“Oh, child, I think on this often these days. I am weary and ready, whenever the good Lord sees fit to bring me home,” she said, smiling at Lizzie. “I don't want you to worry; I have the whole event from music to reading all planned out, in a file here at the church and in my will.” She lay her frail, almost translucent hand over Lizzie's and with surprising firmness gave a squeeze. “No worries, I have no intention for today to be my last day on this earth.”
“Coffee, ladies?” Bennett said, suddenly appearing as he handed both ladies Styrofoam cups. “Did I interrupt something?” Bennett looked from face to face. “Not a thing dear,” Aunt Dorothy said, smiling up at him before Lizzie could reply.
Amy Wilson Hutchins, Lizzie’s sister-in-law and childhood friend, walked up to greet Aunt Dorothy. Amy was Bennett’s older sister by two years. She had also been a friend of Lizzie’s long before marriage had made them sisters.
“How are your parents getting on?” Aunt Dorothy inquired.
“They’re fabulous,” Amy replied heartily. “Mama is always busy with one club or another, and Dad volunteers to push those he calls ‘the elders’ around in their wheelchairs.”
“So they still like living in the old folk’s home?” Aunt Dorothy smiled at Amy.
“Yes, ma’am. After Mama’s stroke, it seemed necessary, but I truly believe it was the best move for both of them.”
“Well, I suppose I could adjust to that, but since at my age, being by myself has gotten harder, I am so glad that Lizzie, Bennett, and the kids are considering moving in with me.”
Amy raised her eyebrows and glanced over to Lizzie and Bennett. Lizzie smiled and nodded, silently acknowledging Amy’s response and knowing that she would later have to fill her in on all the details. Lizzie had entertained Aunt Dorothy’s invitation to move the family in with her, but in truth, she and Bennett still needed to sit down and talk with Aunt Dorothy about the details, and she found herself dreading it. She had been harboring the irrational hope that if they could just keep things the same, the inevitable outcome of Aunt Dorothy’s declining health could be avoided.
“That would certainly be wonderful for you,” Amy said, patting Aunt Dorothy’s hand.
Amy turned to Bennett and Lizzie, “Did I tell you, Faith just got a job at Sunset House working in the dining room.” Faith was Amy and Scott’s youngest and the last one remaining in the nest. She had been the flower girl at Lizzie and Bennett's wedding and was now a senior in high school. The passage of time baffled Lizzie. How is it possible that I'm facing my 45th birthday and my 15th wedding anniversary? How was it possible that Aunt Dorothy is declining before my eyes? It was hard to witness a once vibrant and strong woman, deteriorating.
“How is Charlie settling in at Clemson?” asked Lizzie. Charlie was Amy and Scott’s youngest son. Lizzie could hardly believe the boy who had been the ring bearer at her wedding was off to college.
“He’s doing great so far,” Amy answered. “It helped that he was able to room with his best friend and that he had visited the campus so many times when Jeremy and Ben were there. I still can’t believe my youngest boy has just finished his first month of college.”
“They should name a building there for you and Scott, considering how much tuition you have forked over,” Bennett said. He turned away to cough into his arm.
“Your time will come, little brother, faster than you think. I still can’t believe my first-born, Ben, has a law degree,” Amy said.
“Well, I for one am definitely not ready,” Lizzie chimed in. “The tween years with Dot have about done me in.”
“Just you wait, if she is anything like my Faith, it will be a roller coaster ride until she is about seventeen.”
"Lord help me!" Lizzie exclaimed.
“He certainly will, child,” said Aunt Dorothy. “That you can be sure of. Now, if y'all don't mind, I am yearning for a more comfortable chair. Is it possible to get me home?”
She suddenly looked tired and frail to Lizzie, and she felt remorseful for not noticing sooner.
“Of course,” Bennett replied, fishing the car keys out of his pocket. “Lizzie, I’ll pull the car around, if you’ll round up the kids. Amy, we’ll be over around five for supper. Do I need to swing out to get Mama and Daddy?”
“No, Jeremy told me he would pick them up,” Amy replied. “Aunt Dorothy, lovely to see you as always, are you sure you won't come for supper tonight?”
“Thank you my dear, but I find one outing a day is about all I can handle. Once I get these old bones home, I want to settle in," Aunt Dorothy said, giving Amy’s arm a squeeze. "Give my best to your mom and dad and tell that Ben of yours, I need him to make a house call sometime this week." Ben Hutchins was a freshly minted attorney and had interned for several summers under Mr. Lee before he had retired. When Ben had been hired by the firm Mr. Lee had founded, Aunt Dorothy had insisted that he become her new attorney. “I will pass that message along.” Amy leaned down and kissed Aunt Dorothy on the cheek.
“I have thought about that, and this house is in need of people and activity. We built this house for a family. When George and I bought it all those years ago, we anticipated a house full of children. That did not happen,” Aunt Dorothy said, the shadow of past grief flickering across her face. Then a smile lit her face back up. “Then, in our fifties, we were more than happy to bring Lizzie home to live with us. Losing my little brother and his lovely bride was so unthinkable, but I will always feel so blessed that we had the joy of raising her.” Lizzie’s parents had died in a car accident when Lizzie was only six years old. They were still young, and Lizzie was their only child.
Lizzie smiled. She had so many fond memories of growing up here. Her parents were just a distant memory. She was glad that Aunt Dorothy and Uncle George had worked to keep her connected to them, but they were still like characters from a favorite story. Her heart told her that Aunt Dorothy and Uncle George were her true parents. She still felt the grief of losing Uncle George flutter across her heart at random moments.
Aunt Dorothy was still talking. “Then Lizzie grew up, George passed away, and even with y'all across the street, this house has seemed empty,” Aunt Dorothy finished. She folded her hands in her lap and looked expectantly at Bennett and Lizzie to pronounce what option she would be taking.
Lizzie spoke up. “We both love you so much, and we love this house. We are more than willing to move in here with you, but I think we need to iron out the details in advance so the transition will be smooth for all of us.” Lizzie was concerned that, as much as they all loved each other, the reality of day-to-day living all under one roof would change their relationship. She also worried about who would assume the role of mistress of the house—she or Aunt Dorothy?
“Absolutely, I want you to make this your home. If we can get the den set up with my favorite things, I want you to change whatever you want everywhere else, paint, curtains, furniture, whatever you want to do,” Aunt Dorothy said.
“Would you like us to paint the den and freshen things before we transform it into your bedroom?” Lizzie asked.
“That would be lovely,” Aunt Dorothy answered.
“We haven't discussed the timeline,” Bennett added. “How soon do you want this to happen?”
“The sooner, the better. Why don't Lizzie and I figure out the den and get me settled in and then you can get the bedrooms upstairs painted and fixed up so you can move in,” Aunt Dorothy answered.
“I will leave you two ladies to talk decorating. Once you have picked the paint colors, I can get a crew over to do the dirty work,” Bennett concluded.
“It’s nice to have a husband who has a construction crew.” Lizzie smiled at her husband, who was taking all of this in stride. Was it possible to love him even more than she did this morning?
Bennett leaned down and kissed both women on the cheek. “I am going to check on the kids and then do a little paperwork. We ought to leave for Amy and Scott's by four-forty-five if we want to be on time for supper,” Bennett reminded Lizzie.
“It's two o’clock now; I should be back at the house by three,” Lizzie answered. “Aunt Dorothy, I am going to grab a notepad and pen from the den.”
For the better part of the next hour, the two women came up with a list of things they wanted done to make the house ready for Lizzie and her family to move in, prioritizing as they went along. “I think if we paint that paneling in the den white and the wall above a soft gray, it will be much more pleasant as a bedroom,” Aunt Dorothy said.
“I agree. But what about the window treatments?” Lizzie asked.
“I say, pick out something you like for the two windows on the front of the house and leave the small windows above the bookcases and the big picture window that looks out to the water alone. Those windows are not a concern for privacy, and I love looking out at the water. You can put my chaise right by the window, and I will spend lots of time there.”
"You are not going to hole up in that room. You will come and sit in the rest of the house just like always. This is still your house.” Lizzie was emphatic about not wanting Aunt Dorothy to hibernate.
“Of course, I won’t hole up in the den, child! I was thinking what a pleasure it will be to sit at that window; that's all. Your Uncle George liked that den—so cave-like—and I have wanted to change it for years. I just never got around to it.”
She took Lizzie’s hand in hers. “You need to embrace the idea that this house is yours to run. Yes, it is my home, but I am more than content to hand over the responsibility of it to you. Besides, you will need to make it your own for Dot and Sawyer’s sake.”
“Let’s say it is our house and we can discuss any changes we want to make or how we are going to run things.” She wasn’t sure she could ever make any changes that Aunt Dorothy did not approve first.
“You will probably want to get that bathroom in my room redone before you move in. It hasn't been touched in nearly forty years, which reminds me, I am having trouble with the cold water tap. I'm sure Bennett's crew can take a look at it.”
“I can take a quick look,” Lizzie responded. “Besides, I should go up and make some notes for Bennett on what I want to be done up there.”
“It can wait for Bennett's men, child. Last time you tried your hand at home repair, I recall a trip to the emergency room was in order."
“That is only because I was foolish enough not to read all the directions. Besides, it’s only a water tap, so I am just going to take a quick look.” She was a bit annoyed that her family always had to throw her missteps and embarrassing moments up at her. “I'll be right back.”
“Okay, child, just hand me the phone before you go up.”
Lizzie handed her the phone and headed up to the master suite. She sat on the edge of Aunt Dorothy's bed and closed her eyes. She recalled rainy morning snuggles and reading together when she was young. She had sat on this very spot many a time, watching as Aunt Dorothy fixed her make-up and her hair at the dressing table on the opposite wall. She opened her eyes and slowly took in the room. The salmon-colored walls would have to be changed. She did not mind them so much, but Bennett would not want to start and end
every day in what he would call a pink room. The wide plank cypress flooring was so beautiful; she hoped Bennett would be okay with not covering it up with a rug.
Lizzie rose and peeked into the wall of closets Uncle George had built with his own hands. So many old houses did not have proper closets, and that is one thing she was glad that Uncle George and Aunt Dorothy had remedied. Next, she opened the bathroom door. It was like stepping back to the late 1970s—the last time it had been renovated. The yellow tub, sink, and toilet, combined with the silver metallic wallpaper, were overwhelming. This is a gut job, Lizzie thought. They could sleep in the guest room and use the hall bathroom for a while, which was in much better shape if Bennett couldn't get a crew on this right away.
Lizzie stepped over to examine the sink. The hot water tap turned easily, but the cold water tap did not budge. Lizzie pushed on it with more force, but nothing happened. She tried again, this time pulling up as she pushed. The handle came off in her hand, releasing a powerful gush of water. Startled, Lizzie lost her balance and fell backward over the edge of the tub, landing in the middle of it, on her backside. A geyser of water was now spewing from the faucet, spraying to all four corners of the bathroom. “Aunt Dorothy!” Lizzie hollered. “Right here, child, and I have already called Bennett. He should be here any second.” She was standing in the doorway, looking in at her soaking wet niece, still in her Sunday best.
“How did you know?” asked Lizzie, struggling to get herself out of the tub.
“I had a pretty good idea when you said you were going to take a look at that tap. That is why I had you hand me the phone before you came up here. You best come on out of there and fetch a towel or two from the linen closet.”
Lizzie had just wrapped herself up in the towel when they heard the front door slam and footsteps running up the stairs, wrench in hand, Bennett quickly shut off the water, took a look around the room and said, “Good thing this is a gut job.”