I don’t have to be the brunt of the family gathering any longer. I am leaving. Right now. And I don’t care when or if I see any of them ever again. Well, anyone except Piper.
“Chesney, you’ve caught us off guard with the announcement about Grace’s house,” Lyle said as he moved his chair away from the table. “You’ve caught us off guard about the wedding being cancelled, too. We aren’t sure what to think, honey.”
“Can’t I make decisions on my own?” Chesney cried.
“Your decisions always result in drama for the rest of the family, Chesney,” Madelyn growled. “Maybe you are oblivious to the gossip. But we happen to care about our reputation in the community. We happen to want people to view us with respect.”
“We thought you were settled,” Lyle said. “We didn’t know you were canceling the wedding. We didn’t know you were considering a move. You have shocked us with this news, Chezzie, that’s all. We thought you were…well…settled.”
“I haven’t been settled anywhere,” Chesney said. “It’s Charlotte who is settled, Dad, not me.”
“I’m settled because I’m a wife and a mother,” Charlotte broke into the conversation, just to remind everyone that she was the star daughter. The one who did everything everybody understood. Chesney faced her younger sister with a nasty sneer.
“What do you want, Charlotte?” she asked. “A frigging tiara?”
“You’re really quite aggressive,” Charlotte sat back in her chair, with every intention to now play victim. For effect, she grabbed at Cooper’s shirt sleeve as if to silently say that she feared her very unstable and aggressive older sibling.
“Your mistake with buying Grace’s house is the least of our worries right now,” Madelyn said. “We have to face all the headaches for canceling the wedding. And what about Jack? How does Jack feel about what you’ve done?”
None of you really know me. All of you immediately paint me as the villain, and some of that is my fault. Some of it, however, is not my fault. No one here seems to think I am in pain. Why can’t I tell you the truth?
Lyle bumbled across the dining room, wringing his hands. He loathed conflict. He felt certain that he should somehow take a side. He had a long history of passively watching his daughters lock horns. Secretly, he didn’t understand Chesney. Not at all. She was a strange little bird compared to his wife and younger daughter. Frankly, Lyle didn’t know what to do. But doing nothing probably wasn’t a good idea. After all, dinner was spoiled.
“We’re very concerned about your mental state, Chezzie,” he said as he timidly followed his irrational older daughter out of the dining room.
Chesney looked up at her dad as she wiggled her feet into her shoes. What?
“I’m confused that you would leave the place you’ve called home for all these years, to live in that horribly neglected old house in the middle of nowhere,” he continued. “I’m afraid that a stable person might not make that choice.”
“So now you think I’m a wing nut?” Chesney asked. “Is that what you’re telling me? I buy back the property that was in our family for a century. And because of that decision, you decide I should be weaving baskets in a padded room?”
Madelyn and Charlotte followed and lounged on the leather sofa. Cooper stood behind his queen, hands protectively on her shoulders. Madelyn barely blinked while her angel grandchild slobbered on her lap.
“I've been kicked out of my life,” Chesney said slowly. “But none of you can understand that since you don’t know very much about me.”
“You’re such a drama queen, Chesney,” Charlotte said briskly. “Chicago is certainly big enough for both you and Jack. And yes, we do know you. We know you’re always making problems for the rest of us.”
Ignoring her sister’s venom, Chesney hoped to appeal to Dad. “I need to be in Granny Grace's house. I need to be where I once felt happy and complete.”
“I’m sorry, Chezzie Girl. But I don’t think you’re being practical,” Lyle said.
“Neither do I,” Chesney laughed. “And I love it.”
“Your mother and I are very concerned about your judgment.”
“Don’t be,” she smiled. “I am fine.”
That is a lie, of course, too. I am not fine. My heart is broken. I frequently see Jack and Belinda in my dreams, savagely engaging in intercourse. But here’s another secret: I was deeply thankful to catch Jack screwing his assistant. I didn’t want to marry him but I didn’t know how to get out of it without a big drama. Now I force myself to see that I was willing to marry the man whore so I could avoid my family’s wrath. Not good. Not good at all.
“I’ll see you soon,” Chesney lied as she placed her hand on the front door.
“When?” Madelyn asked.
When you can treat me like a human being instead of a circus act.
Without answering, Chesney hurried out the door. She was deeply humiliated that her family had front row seats to witness her failures. They said hurtful things. They used her pain against her. Hell, they had even made her their entertainment. But in a strange way, Chesney loved the fact that no one understood why she wanted Granny Grace’s house. The house could be her secret way to heal, to get better acquainted with herself and to start again. She drove away, thinking about Grace’s house, her house now. When she could not trust the world or anyone in it, she had clung to childhood moments in that house. When she could not breathe another dream about the future, she took refuge in yesterday. Maybe it wasn’t the healthiest option. But it was definitely the only place Chesney could turn right now. At a stop sign two blocks away from the family home, she blew her nose.
Chapter Five
If Grace was still in the world, her family would not have escaped a good tongue lashing for how they ganged up on Chesney. Grace understood Chesney when no one else appreciated her wild imagination, her spirit or her crazy knack at falling in love with the wrong men.
“The world belongs to you, little girl,” Grace said often when she and Chesney walked through the meadow behind the house.“Anything you can dream can be yours.”
Until she got older, Chesney believed Grace’s words. Even through college, she believed in her dreams. When she first began to stumble through bad relationships and disappointments, Grace’s words urged her on to the next beginning. Definitely, Chesney saw many of her dreams become part of her life. Her love for writing became a wonderful career and her life had been blessed with wonderful friendships.
But lately, she questioned Grace’s words.
In front of the entire family, Charlotte ticked off the list of Chesney’s lost loves. Everyone in the family was well aware that Charlotte graduated from college, married a successful engineer, planned a lovely pregnancy, gave birth to a beautiful daughter and never begins the day without make-up. Charlotte drives a tidy minivan with Baby Einstein on the DVD player. Charlotte attends pilates classes. Charlotte is an excellent cook, an immaculate housekeeper and a stay-at-home mom who still finds time to plan elaborate dinner parties. Charlotte lives a lovely life which is easily understood and admired by their parents and extended family, too.
Chesney, on the other hand, was the family storm cloud. Sometimes she moved around enough for the sun to gleam brightly, especially when she produced multiple best-sellers. But if she could not hide behind that accomplishment, Chesney’s shortcomings shined all over the place. In neon colors, she was weird, odd, eccentric. She was horribly messy. She didn’t know the first thing about decorating. And her cooking skills were limited to what she had time to nuke in the microwave. Chesney was known for tumbling in and out of bad romances, sometimes lasting a couple of days, sometimes a couple of years. But every single time she gushed about her newfound Mr. Right, the bottom always fell out of the love bucket.
She and Jack never had a lot in common. He was nice enough, handsome enough and thoughtful enough. But Jack was more passionate about a corporate buy-out than he was about building a life with Chesney. She knew the relationship would
never last. She just didn’t want to admit it. She wasn’t strong enough to push the ring back in Jack’s direction. Even as he placed the diamond on her ring finger, Chesney knew she didn’t want to waltz down the aisle with him. Jack would have been tempted to keep his broker on his cell phone while they exchanged wedding vows. He would have had a quickie with one of Chesney’s drunken aunts. He would have happily invited the bridesmaids for an orgy. But somehow Chesney knew there was a dangerous flaw within her that would have tried to make Jack’s character defects okay.
She was very, very good at giving people excuses for treating her badly. She wanted to understand why she hung on to bad relationship. Was it simply so she could say she was in a relationship? Chesney had a dangerously high tolerance for disappointment. Her ability to make the bad look less than bad was a curse, not a gift. She even knew that every single romantic connection thus far had been duds, destined to fail. She knew it, but jumped right in there anyway.
I don’t know how to stop pretending I am in love when I’m not. Of course, I was broken-hearted when Jack cheated. But it wasn’t so much because I couldn’t live without a selfish, pompous ass like him. It was the realization that without the rock on my left hand, I didn’t belong to anyone. Without that ring, I have to admit to myself, and to all the world, that no one loves me.
And so, with her naked ring finger in full view, Chesney made that hasty trip back to Bean Blossom, Indiana. Leaving Chicago felt necessary. That nagging need to see Grace’s house again would not go away. During the drive, she occasionally asked herself why she hadn’t told one single person except Becca that she was leaving. Initially, she wandered the narrow country roads and panicked that she might not find it. She had nothing to worry about, though. She immediately recognized the stately old place and drove up the cozy lane, still embroidered by lush trees. Every step she made in the dry grass crunched loudly in her ears. She savored the silence. No car horns or crowded sidewalks. No subways. No neon lights. By spring, the neglected sunflowers would grow higher than her head. In a messy row beside the barn, the heavy blooms would bow. Wildflowers fussed for space along the path leading to the wrap-around porch.
Somewhere between the moments it took to peek through all the dirty windows, Chesney discovered that she needed this house. She needed to walk away from everything she knew. She leaned against the porch railing that day and smiled. “This is my new beginning.”
When she returned to Chicago, Chesney and Becca met at Delilah’s for some high calorie treats. As Becca entered the restaurant in her usual flurry, with her black hair tied back in a sleek, serious ponytail, Chesney took in a deep breath. Becca tossed her oversized bag on the floor beside her chair and leaned across the table. “What’s going on?” she asked. “I know the tone I heard in your voice today on the telephone. I know it means you’ve got something big to say.”
“There’s no drama,” Chesney said with a smile. “Calm down.”
“What’s wrong?” Becca’ serious, piercing eyes would not blink. “Did Jack call? Is your mother finally having an emotional meltdown?”
“I’m leaving,” Chesney said quickly.
“What does that mean?” Becca squinted and shoved her glasses down her nose. “You’re leaving your job? You’re leaving your apartment? What are you leaving?”
“I’m leaving almost everything,” Chesney said.
As she realized the ways this decision would change her life, fear burned in her chest. Quick breakfast and lunch meetings with Becca would end. Just like last-minute jogs through the park and late-night trips to see a movie. Even the greetings to neighbors in the apartment building, all of it would end. “I bought my Grandmother’s house.”
“I told you not to do that,” Becca wailed. “I told you to think about it.”
“I did think about it,” Chesney said. “And I found myself thinking about it so much that I bought it.”
“You’re irrational right now because Jack hurt you,” Becca said. “Running away is not the answer, Chesney.”
“I am not running away,” Chesney said with a smile. “I’m beginning again.”
“What about your work?”
“I can write anywhere,” Chesney shrugged. “I’ve already spoken with Gloria. I’ll fly to New York for meetings as usual. But I’ll finish the chapters of my next book in Bean Blossom, Indiana.”
“You’re doing this because of Jack,” Becca said.
“No,” Chesney shook her head. “I’m doing this because of me.”
They cried that day, right there in the middle of assorted chocolate pastries.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Becca dabbed at her eyes.
“I’ve got to find a place where I belong,” Chesney said. “I’ve got to find some answers about my life. Although I have loved a lot of parts about living in Chicago and New York, I’m still lost. I’m confused about my life. And I am now convinced that I can’t find my answers here.” She picked at the sprinkles on a chocolate iced donut “Please try to understand,” Chesney said. “I really want this.”
“Alright,” Becca sighed. “I’ll try. But I’m not making any promises, Chez. I’m really not.” Then she glanced at her watch. “Hate to go but I’ve got a massage.”
As they walked toward the exit door, Delilah made her way around the counter. “May I speak with you?” she caught the arm of Chesney’s heavy winter coat. “Do you have time?” Even though Becca made a bad face, Chesney followed Delilah behind the counter and through a door which led to a small, windowless room painted a deep shade of purple. “I feel the need to speak with you about your life,” Delilah said. She sat down on a faded red velvet love seat and pointed to a straight back chair which was covered with colorful scarves. “Won’t you have a seat?”
Nervously, Chesney sat on the edge of the chair and smiled at Delilah, who smelled of cinnamon, flour and sugar. “I’ve never met a…a fortune teller,” she said. “And so I’m not sure what to expect.”
“Don’t be nervous, love,” Delilah smiled. “And please don’t call me a fortune teller. I much prefer to be referred to as a psychic.”
As Chesney mumbled an apology, Delilah asked her name and then smiled quizzically. “My first name is my grandmother’s maiden name,” Chesney said quickly. After more than three decades with this unusual name, she was more than experienced about quickly explaining while she wasn’t a Cathy, Debbie or Mary.
“Chesney,” Delilah said softly. “Yes,” she nodded then Delilah closed her eyes, revealing the last hints of blue eye shadow, the crayon kind, with sparkles. “Spirit tells me that big changes are coming. You are very nervous, maybe even frightened. But Chesney, it is important for you to know that only good things await you.”
Dumbfounded, Chesney’s mouth dropped open. How did Delilah know she was moving away? She quickly retraced earlier steps inside Delilah’s bakery. After ordering, she and Becca chose their favorite table, the one by the window with the pink metal chairs. Delilah hadn’t left her place behind the counter. There was no way she overheard their conversation. Chesney took in a deep breath, pressed her lips together tightly and studied Delilah, whose eyes were still closed with fluttering eyelids.
“That last man? Pig. That’s all I can say,” Delilah shook her head. “He was worthless and he hurt you deeply. You are a smart girl not to love him anymore.” She paused a moment as if invisible people with inaudible voices were speaking. “You didn’t really love that man the way you told people you did. You love to read. You are a natural born storyteller.” Delilah’s eyes flew open suddenly, startling Chesney. “Oh my goodness!”
“What?” Chesney timidly leaned toward Delilah. “What is it?”
“Another man,” Delilah grinned and nodded knowingly.
“Nope.”
“Oh yes, dear,” Delilah said. “And he is the one...the perfect one.”
“No more men, Delilah,” Chesney shook her head. “I’m cursed. I am an Ass Magnet.”
Delilah
laughed loudly and her eyes scrunched into the wrinkles of her weathered face. “Oh, how I love your spunk, dear. But you must know that your one true love will appear. He will come into your life when you least expect it. And while you will certainly be skeptical, you will not be able to resist him. You understand?”
Do I understand bullshit? Yes. Yes, I do.
Chesney stood and offered her hand as a good-bye gesture and a thank you. But Delilah embraced her, snugly pressing Chesney’s petite body against those torpedo boobs.
“Your grandmother is with you,” Delilah whispered against Chesney’s hair. “Do not ever forget that she is with you. She watches over you. She helps you find your way. You understand?”
Tears burned in Chesney’s eyes as she wordlessly nodded and backed out of the small purple room.
“Don’t start getting weird on me,” Becca said with an eye roll as they left the bakery to walk home. “I’ve never met a donut making witch. Have you? Sounds like a big line of bullshit.”
“That’s what I thought too, at first,” Chesney confessed. “But now I’m not so sure.”
“Just stop thinking about something so silly,” Becca scolded. “Don’t think about the psychic reading when you can think about something equally as stupid, such as your decision to purchase Grace’s home.”
Wounded by the harshness in Becca’s voice, Chesney focused on the slushy sidewalk. She probably should tell Becca that her attitude was hurtful. She should maybe ask Becca if she was being so negative because she was upset about Chesney moving so far away. But because she had no back bone, Chesney did nothing. That was her usual response when other people were hateful. She closed up like a turtle. She buttoned up tight, became untouchable. For a moment, Chesney wished that Becca would move with her. But that was unrealistic since Becca would never leave her accounting firm in the city. Moving to Bean Blossom was a journey she guessed she had to make alone.
Their elbows knocked occasionally but there was no more conversation. Becca seemed angry and Chesney was irritated and hurt. As Chesney unlocked the door of her apartment and stepped inside, Becca whistled under her breath.
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