Change of Heart (The True Heart Series Book 3)

by Layce Gardner

  “Sweetie, I have my little birds.” She wagged her finger at Susan. “You need to remove Carrie from your life.”

  “That would take an exorcist.”

  “Then get one,” Mrs. Branson said. She gave Susan a good-natured wink and walked out the door.

  ***

  Tess was at work when Edna appeared in her doorway. Tess was surprised by the unannounced visit. She only vaguely knew Edna as part of Millie’s coterie of friends.

  “Is now a bad time?” Edna asked, quietly shutting the door behind her.

  “No, not at all. What can I help you with?” Tess asked. She jumped up and moved a stack of file folders from a chair so Edna could sit. “Sorry, I don’t have many visitors. Would you like some tea? I was about to make myself some.” Tess placed the pile of folders on top of an already towering stack.

  “No, I can’t stay that long. The Red Shoe March is starting soon and I don’t want to miss that,” Edna said.

  “All right.” Tess looked at Edna expectantly.

  Edna folded her hands in her lap, cleared her throat, and said, “I want you to know that I’ve thought long and hard about this. I didn’t come to it lightly, but I think what’s happening to you is very unfair. Everyone’s trying to keep it from you isn’t right. Now, I don’t want you to hold it against anyone, especially your friends, who love you dearly. They counted on Susan telling you, but she hasn’t. She lost her opportunity and something has to be done. I know people will think I’m meddling, but Susan’s life has been filled with subterfuge and now it’s happening again,” Edna paused. “To you.”

  Tess’s stomach clenched. Her mouth went dry. “I don’t know what you’re…” Tess stopped. She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. The fact was she did know what Edna was going to tell her. Just because she didn’t want to hear it, didn’t make it so.

  “Maybe I’ve made a mistake,” Edna said. She started to get up but then her face changed. “No, I’ve got to do this. I can’t let another soul suffer. I’ve done that too many times in my life and I refuse to be a party to deception once again.” She gripped the arms of her chair and leaned forward. “Can I tell you a story first?”

  It took everything Tess had not to scream at the older woman to spill before her internal organs burst—beginning with her heart. She got a hold of herself. “Is it like a parable?” Tess didn’t know if Edna was churchy, but older people seemed to grasp at God the closer they got to their imminent demise.

  “No,” Edna said. “It’s more like something from Jerry Springer.”

  “Oh, my god,” Tess breathed.

  “God has nothing to do with it. Let’s get you that tea. You look like you need it.” Edna got up and shuffled over to turn on Tess’s electric kettle that sat on top of a file cabinet. “Oh good, you’ve got chamomile. It’s supposed to soothe your nerves or something like that. Millie swears by the stuff.”

  Tess refrained from banging her head on her desk repeatedly. Instead, she did what she told her frightened clients—she practiced mindful breathing.

  “Can I have a cookie?” Edna asked, shaking the box of ginger snaps she found by the kettle.

  “Help yourself.” The deep breathing was working. She gave herself a little pep talk. Whatever this was, she could handle it.

  Edna didn’t speak until the kettle boiled and she finished making the tea. She handed Tess her cup, then took a ginger snap and her cup and sat back down. “See, isn’t this better? You’ve had a chance to calm down.”

  “I don’t know about that.” Tess blew on her tea.

  “Now, I’ll tell you the story of my best friend,” Edna said.

  Tess hoped this wasn’t going to be one of those stories where Edna went all the way back to her childhood and moved chronologically forward.

  “Now, my best friend… Sissy was her name. I loved her like a sister. She got real sick, cancer of the cervix. I never liked her husband, Walter, but I always kept that to myself. When she was sick, he took up with the neighbor lady. It started with casseroles. She brought him casseroles while Sissy was in the hospital. Then you know how men are.” Edna chuckled. “Well, then again, I suppose you don’t. Anyway, they think with their peckers. The husband and the neighbor took up with each other. Lots of us knew, but we kept our mouths shut. We, including myself, didn’t think Sissy would make it, so there didn’t seem too much harm in it. Well, Sissy rallied and she kicked the cancer. Sissy was a fighter. That only left the Walter problem. She was fixing to come home and Walter hadn’t broken it off with the neighbor and didn’t look like he had any intention of ending it. What was I to do? Should I let my best friend move back in with her cheating, no-good husband? I went to talk to Walter. He told me to mind my own business. He said he had needs and with the sickness in Sissy’s lady parts, he wasn’t going anywhere near it. He didn’t see a thing wrong with keeping a little on the side.”

  Tess knew where this story was going. She blurted, “Are you trying to tell me that Susan’s having an affair with Carrie?”

  “Let me finish.” Edna took a bite of her ginger snap. “I haven’t had one of these in years.”

  The wait was excruciating. Tess sipped her tea.

  “I knew I had to tell Sissy, otherwise what kind of friend was I? I got myself together and told her before she came home from the hospital. I told her I had a room all set up for her at my house and I’d take care of her. You know what she did?” Edna asked.

  “What?”

  “She told me she never wanted to see me ever again. That Walter wouldn’t do that. I was lying. Trying to ruin her happiness. Talk about shooting the messenger.” Edna shook her head. “She never spoke to me again. A year later the cancer came back. Even then she wouldn’t let me see her. After she passed, Walter wouldn’t allow me to go to the funeral. You know what I did?”

  “No,” Tess said.

  “Before you get all righteous on me, I want you to know that the statute of limitations is passed.”

  Tess was alarmed. “You didn’t kill him?”

  “No, but I wanted to. I waited until he was next door carrying on with the whore and I burnt down his house—right to the ground. Best thing I ever did. He moved. I’m pretty darn sure he knew I did it. He left town and took Casserole Woman with him, which was a good thing because she had been shunned right good. Not one woman in town would talk to her.”

  “Is Susan cheating on me?”

  Edna ignored the question. “Nobody ever knew what started the affair. Was it the casseroles or had Walter been carrying on before then? No one ever knew for sure.”

  “Edna, please tell me what’s happened. I want to know. I need to know. I won’t hate you and you can come to my funeral, I promise.”

  “I hope you’re not planning on dying of a broken heart.”

  “I’m tougher than I look,” Tess said, sitting up straighter in her chair.

  Edna took a deep breath and said, “Susan cosigned on a bank loan for Carrie. You know, for that driving business she’s getting together. It’s definitely a much-needed service, I’ll grant her that. Now, I’m not saying that Susan’s having an affair… maybe she is and maybe she isn’t. But either way, I thought you should know. If you won’t talk to me anymore then that’s the cost of my coming forward and I’m perfectly willing to accept it.”

  Tess sat quiet. Susan had done this and not told her. She’d helped the woman who’d broken her heart, run off, and now still toyed with Susan’s emotions. Why would Susan help Carrie? Was she still in love with her?

  Tess thought back to their lovemaking last night. She cringed. Susan had known what she’d done and still made love to Tess? Was she even thinking about Tess while they did it? Maybe she was imagining Carrie the whole time she was making love to her.

  “How long ago was this?” Tess asked.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes.”

  “Long enough that she should’ve told you.”

  Tess nodded.

 
; Edna dunked her cookie in her tea and quickly finished it off. She drained her tea and said, “I’m going now.” She got up and put her tea cup on the tray next to the kettle. “Can I have another cookie?”

  “Sure,” Tess said. “And Edna?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you. Thank you for telling me.”

  “Don’t burn down Susan’s house.”

  “She doesn’t have one.”

  “Good thing. Although I found out that arson is very cathartic, it’s still wrong. I do hope the good Lord knows I was temporarily out of my mind.”

  “I can’t promise that I won’t kill Susan, though,” Tess said. She had meant it as a joke, but it came out sounding more real than funny.

  “I’m old enough to remember the Twinkie defense when that deranged man killed Harvey Milk. Maybe you could use a ginger snap defense,” Edna said. “You know, you’re a ginger and you snapped.” She chuckled.

  Tess managed a weak smile.

  “Will you be at the Red Shoe March?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll be in the mood.”

  “It should be good for some comic relief. I’ll save you a seat just in case.”

  Tess’s thoughts were a blur. It was all she could do to respond. “Thanks, Edna.”

  Edna took another cookie and left, closing the door gently behind her.

  ***

  Comic relief didn’t even begin to scratch the surface of the Red Shoe March. Several hundred men walking a mile down Main Street in red, high-heeled shoes was funnier than Millie had ever imagined.

  Millie and Bernie had the best seats on the parade route. They had brought their camping chairs and set themselves up curbside so they could applaud the men limping down the road.

  Clementine was the grand marshal of the march. She rode in a red convertible and waved at the people lining the parade route. Jeb ran along beside his wife’s car—no easy feat when you’re wearing heels—handing out flyers that red Clementine for Mayor! Luke was on the other side of the car in his own heels and matching sequined evening gown, handing out more flyers.

  Every men’s group in town had signed up for the Red Shoe March. There was the Lion’s Club, the Elk’s Lodge, and the Shriners. Even the Methodists and the Lutherans were marching.

  Bernie stood up, stuck two fingers in her mouth, and whistled when the fire department walked by. There was nothing funnier than seeing a dozen big, hulking men dressed in their firefighter’s gear walking in red high heels. Their pants were rolled up to their knees and their hairy legs looked pale and spindly in the bright sunlight.

  Sal walked along proudly in his heels. He waved grandly at the the spectators and blew kisses—until his ankle suddenly twisted and he went down in a tumble. He reached out for help as he was falling and snagged Eric by the sleeve. Eric teetered on his own heels, then fell on top of Sal. They rolled around, trying unsuccessfully several times to get up, but getting up while wearing stilettos proved to be too daunting.

  Another firefighter rushed to their rescue. He held out his hand to Eric. Eric took the offered hand and tried to pull himself up. Instead, he ended up pulling the other man down with him. Now there were three firefighters on the ground.

  Millie and Bernie laughed so hard they doubled over, holding their bellies. The other onlookers hooted and hollered, laughing until they cried.

  The men of the police department were marching right behind the firefighters. And because they had vowed to protect and serve, they rushed over to help the firefighters. Chief Bob Ed was the first to go down. Afterwards, he would accuse Sal of ambushing him and dragging him down to save face for his own fall. Sal, however, had his own version of the truth. He said Chief Bob Ed’s heel broke at the exact moment he reached up to accept the Chief’s helping hand.

  Regardless of who was telling the truth, everybody could agree on one thing: the ensuing brawl that broke out between the fire department and the police department was better than a Jerry Springer show. They threw punches, tackled each other, and a few even took off their heels and used them as weapons.

  By the time the march was finished, there were over two dozen injured men littered along the parade route. There were a few bloody noses and black eyes, but most of the injuries were twisted and sprained ankles resulting from unstable footwear.

  Like Chief Bob Ed said later to Amy in an interview for the newspaper: “The moral of the story is… Don’t wear heels to a fistfight.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  It didn’t take long to pack Susan’s things. Tess was amazed at how little Susan had brought with her when she moved in. Susan had lots of medical books and some furniture, but she’d put it all in storage “for the time being.” Tess hadn’t known what to make of that, but her house was small and there wasn’t room for much more stuff. Susan had told her she liked the way the house was, and she didn’t want to mess up Tess’s feng shui vibe. Tess had believed her. She’d thought one day they might build a house together at the lake. Then, they’d sort through both their possessions and truly meld their lives.

  Now, Tess discovered that throwing Susan out was almost too simple. It only entailed packing two suitcases and two small boxes. That meant her girlfriend could leave at a moment’s notice. Tess realized that they weren’t the kind of couple she thought they were. Had their entire relationship been mostly in her imagination? Susan could leave her house and within seconds it would be like she had never been there at all.

  After crying and packing and crying some more, Tess sat down on the sofa to wait for Susan. Daylight faded and the house became dark. Tess didn’t even turn on a lamp. The darkness fit her mood. Besides, she felt too tired, too wrung out, to get up off the couch.

  Tess’s phone pinged with a text message. She dug the phone out of the back pocket of her jeans and looked at it. It was from Susan. The text read: “Going to be late. Sorry. Accident. Multiple injuries. Love you.”

  “Yeah, right,” Tess said. She didn’t know whether to believe the message or not. Maybe she was meeting with Carrie. Maybe she had been meeting with Carrie all along.

  She hurled the phone across the room. It landed on the easy chair, safe and sound. She felt cheated. It could’ve at least sustained a dent or a scratch. She realized how futile it was to break her cell phone. It would make her feel better for a half-second, then she would have to spend the next day getting a new one.

  She thought about making tea, but decided against it. That only reminded her of Edna’s visit. Next, she thought about opening a bottle of wine, but nixed that idea, too. The wine would calm her nerves, but she didn’t want to be the drunken, angry girlfriend when Susan got home. She wanted to be clearheaded, hand Susan her belongings, and be done with it.

  Maybe love was overrated.

  Tess had been fine before Susan walked into her life. She had her career, she had her house, she had friends…and for a while she’d had love. How was she going to live in Fenton, wondering when she was going to see Susan and Carrie walking around, holding hands, giggling in line at the supermarket? She would feel like a fugitive, sneaking around, going underground, so they couldn’t see her pain and she wouldn’t see their happiness. Maybe she should move? Go to the city, leaving Fenton and the life she had once loved behind her?

  She was imagining her new life when she heard Susan’s car pull up, the tires crunching over loose gravel in the driveway, the headlights reflecting off the front window of the house. Tess’s stomach dropped and her heart rate sky rocketed. She was in fight or flight mode. This is not how it should’ve been. She should’ve had a glass of wine ready for Susan, rubbed her feet, talked about their day, eaten dinner, made love, but now…now the suitcases were packed.

  Tess rose from the couch as she heard Susan’s key scrape in the lock. Susan opened the door. “Tess?”

  Tess stood motionless.

  Susan flipped on the overhead light and shut the door. She saw Tess and smiled. When Tess didn’t smile back, a frown replaced Susan�
��s smile. She turned her head and saw her suitcases. Her face paled. “What’s going on?” she asked in a breathless whisper.

  Tess felt her tears wet her cheeks. She didn’t even know she’d been crying. “I packed for you,” she said, pointing at the suitcases.

  Susan’s face crumpled. “Let’s talk,” she said. She walked across the room and held out her hand.

  Tess batted it away. “Do not touch me. Get your bags and boxes and get out,” Tess said, her voice shrill. “I want you out, now!”

  “I don’t understand,” Susan said, her face registering panic. “Why do you want me to leave? I love you. We’re building a life together.” Her bottom lip trembled.

  “Don’t lie to me. Do you think I don’t know what’s going on? Do you think I’m stupid?”

  “No, no, I would never think that. Is this about Carrie?” Susan asked. “Because it’s nothing, there is nothing there. I can explain.”

  “Get out!” Tess screamed. She shoved Susan’s suitcases toward her and then ran from the room. She slammed the bedroom door behind her, threw herself on the bed, and sobbed.

  There was a part of her that expected Susan to follow her.

  Susan didn’t.

  Tess heard the front door open and close. She put the pillow over her head and sobbed loudly.

  ***

  Rosa opened the door, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Susan?”

  It was past midnight. Susan had been aimlessly driving around for hours. She hadn’t known what to do, then it dawned on her where to go. She needed her best friend.

  “Susan, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Rosa asked.

  “She threw me out. I got home… and she had me packed and…” Susan began to sob. “I love her.” She collapsed into Rosa’s arms.

  Rosa rubbed her back and cooed, “It’ll be all right. We’ll sort this out. Come inside.”

  Rosa shepherded Susan into the living room and sat her down on the sofa. Steph wandered in, rubbing the top of her head and blinking sleepily.