From Willa, With Love

by Coleen Murtagh Paratore

  “It’s the perfect name for them,” Will says. “Ancient … stone-cold … uglier than …”

  “Your grandparents are ugly?” I say. “How can that be? Look how handsome you are.”

  “I get my looks from my father’s side of the family,” Will says. “I get my looks from our dad.”

  I put on a light jacket and go out for a walk. I head toward Main Street, feeling so bad for Will, and then soon worries for Will turn to worries over JFK and Jess and then back to Will again. I’m not doing too well with that Willa the Warrior thing.

  Mrs. Saperstone and Dr. Swammy are coming out of the Quarter Deck restaurant.

  “Willa, hello!” Mrs. Saperstone says. “We were just talking about you.”

  “Yes,” Dr. Swammy says. “Thank you for agreeing to plan our wedding.”

  “My pleasure,” I say. “I’ve been compiling some ideas.”

  “We want a small and private affair,” Mrs. S. says. “Just a very few close friends. Your family, of course. Ms. Toomajian and her husband. A few teachers from Bramble Academy. A few special friends of the library. No more than twenty, I imagine. We are going to ask Mum to do the service at BUC and we want to have the reception in the library garden.”

  “The library garden?” I say. “But how will we fit tables for dinner and what about a dance floor?”

  “We need to … we want to … keep it simple, Willa,” Mrs. Saperstone says. “We’re thinking just a light buffet, a champagne toast, and cake.”

  I remember our earlier conversation about finances. “That’s fine,” I say. “I understand. In fact, I applaud your decision.”

  Dr. Swammy smiles and nods. “Well, good, then.”

  “Do you have a date in mind?” I say.

  “Well, we have to check with Mum tomorrow, of course,” Mrs. S. says. “But if it’s okay with her, we’ll be married next Saturday. That is, if you’re free then, Willa.”

  “Next Saturday. Wow, that’s short notice. But I did plan my aunt Ruthie’s wedding in the blink of an eye.”

  “All right, then?” Dr. Swammy says.

  “Yes! Don’t worry. I won’t disappoint you. I promise.”

  “You could not possibly disappoint us,” Mrs. S. says. “Just remember to please keep it simple, okay?”

  Out of the corner of my eye I see Ruby Sivler crossing the street. She doesn’t look where she’s going…. A car screeches its brakes to avoid hitting her. “Ruby!” I shout, running toward her.

  Ruby looks at me as if she is in a daze. There are black streams of mascara running down her face.

  “Oh, Willa,” she says. “It’s awful.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Ruby’s Scary News

  Fantasy is escapist, and that is its glory…. If we value the freedom of mind and soul, if we’re partisans of liberty, then it’s our plain duty to escape, and to take as many people with us as we can!

  — J.R.R. Tolkien

  “Ruby … what’s wrong?” I take her arm and pull her out of harm’s way, up onto the sidewalk. There’s a bench close by. “Come on, let’s sit down.”

  “I’m so scared, Willa,” she says, sobbing, her body shaking like she’s freezing.

  “About what?” I ask. I touch her hand. I scrounge in my purse for a tissue.

  She wipes her face. She shakes her head back and forth.

  “What, Ruby?” I say. “You can tell me.”

  “It’s my mom,” she says, her face contorting with tears. “She has breast cancer. We found out today.”

  “Oh, Ruby. I’m sorry.” I rub her arm.

  “It’s bad,” Ruby says. “It’s already spread. I heard my father telling my grandmother that it may be too late for … for … anything.” She lets out a horrible sob. I pull her toward me and hug her.

  “Oh, Ruby.” I rub her back. “It’s okay … it’s okay.” I let her cry. I want to say, I’m sure it’s not too late. There are wonderful doctors. Your parents are rich; they’ll get the best treatment. Your mom will be fine. But how can I say that? I don’t know if that’s true. And so I just hug her and let her cry and rub her back.

  “Willa, what if she dies?” Ruby shrieks. Some tourists passing by stop and look.

  “Ruby. Listen to me.” I take her face between my hands, looking straight in her eyes. “With faith all things are possible.” This is what Mum and Nana would say. “You’ve got to be strong for your mom. She’ll need you.”

  “I know,” Ruby says. “You’re right. It’s just so … scary.”

  “Of course it is, honey,” I say.

  “And I can’t find Tina anywhere,” Ruby says. “Her phone’s off….”

  I fill Ruby in on how Will is leaving in the morning. “They are probably wanting to spend every minute of their last night together,” I say. “But I’m here.”

  Ruby sniffles, blows her nose. “Thanks, Willa.”

  I hand her another tissue.

  “Thanks for letting me talk,” she says.

  “Any time,” I say, and I mean it.

  “I should be getting back home,” Ruby says.

  “I’ll walk you,” I say.

  “So what’s this I hear about you and Jess?” Ruby says, glad to change the subject.

  “What do you mean?” I say.

  “Carli told me you and Jess were staring at each other during the concert and she thinks maybe you two went out after since you didn’t join us on the beach.”

  “I went home sick,” I say, and then I feel bad for lying, especially as Ruby is being so open with me. This is the most sincere conversation we have ever had.

  “Willa,” Ruby says. “Listen … my mother doesn’t want anyone to know about the cancer. She’s in total denial right now. It’s like if no one else finds out, then it won’t really be happening. Do you know what I mean?”

  “I hear you,” I say. “Don’t worry, Rube. I won’t say a word.”

  “Thanks, Willa,” Ruby says, leaning over to hug me. “I know we’ve had our problems, but I think you’re great.”

  “Thanks, Ruby.”

  Reason: Throw her an olive branch, Willa. Ruby just shared something major with you. Tell her about Jess and JFK.

  Willa: No way!

  Reason: People can change, Willa. Especially when we give them a chance.

  Willa: But she’ll tell everyone.

  Reason: Are you going to keep Ruby’s secret?

  Willa: Yes.

  Reason: Well, then, why not trust her to do the same?

  Letting Reason rule, I tell Ruby about my liking-two-boys-at-once dilemma.

  She is surprisingly calm and nice.

  “Don’t make any rash moves or decisions,” she advises. “I’ve often liked two, three, even four boys at the same time. Trust me, these things have a way of working themselves out in time. In the meantime, just have fun.”

  I listen. Ruby makes sense.

  “Promise me you won’t tell anyone,” I say.

  “Okay,” she says.

  “Really, Rube, promise.”

  She promises me she will.

  In this moment I think that maybe, just maybe, when Mariel gets back from New York City, all four of us, Tina, Ruby, me, and Mare could all be friends together.

  I walk Ruby to her front door.

  “Good luck with your mom,” I say. “I’ll keep her in my prayers. Let me know when you hear anything. And if you want to talk, just call me. Really, Rube, any time.”

  “I will,” Ruby says. “Thanks, Willa.”

  I turn to leave.

  “Hey, Willa,” Ruby says.

  “Yes?”

  “Love the sneakers.”

  Back at the inn, I look for Will.

  “He’s out with Tina,” Sam says.

  I head up to my room and write in my journal. I plop down on my bed, check my messages. Still no response from JFK. The song was beautiful, such a nice gift, but why is he ignoring me?

  I tear open some saltwater taffies and start reading Firegirl. Th
e beginning reminds me of Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli, one of my favorite books.

  Here in Firegirl, the girl’s name is Jessica. The Jess in Jessica jumps out at me and my mind wanders.

  I never let Jessie know I wasn’t coming to his concert tonight.

  I wonder why?

  CHAPTER 20

  Open to the Opportunities

  I have sometimes dreamt that when the Day of Judgment dawns … the Almighty will turn to Peter … when He sees us coming with our books under our arms, and say “Look, these need no reward. We have nothing to give them here. They have loved reading.”

  — Virginia Woolf

  Early Sunday morning, there is a knock on my door. “Want to join me for a run before church?” my mother says.

  “Sure, Mom. I’ll be right down.” I look at the clock. I hurry and get dressed.

  Out in the hallway I pause by Captain Ahab. My brother Will’s room. Come tonight, he will be gone. Who knows if and when he’ll ever come back.

  Mom drives us into Falmouth. I listen as she shares all the highlights of the Bennigan reception and how absolutely thrilled the bride’s family was and the wedding party, too, and how three of the bridesmaids said they expect to be engaged by summer’s end and “they want a wedding just like Star Bennigan’s here at the Bramblebriar.”

  “Will they be braviars?” I say.

  “Absolutely,” Mom says, “probably worse than Ms. Star. They’ll probably want original one-of-a-kind dinner entrees, not just desserts, and I’ll be happy to charge them accordingly.”

  “That’s great, Mom,” I say, laughing. “Good for you.”

  “No, good for business,” she says.

  We park near the Shining Sea pathway.

  “Do you think you can do three and a half out and three and a half back?” Mom says.

  “Seven miles,” I say. “I’m not sure.”

  “Do what you can, then,” she says. “You need to start extending your distance if you’re going to run the Falmouth Road Race with me next month.”

  “Okay, Mom, I’ll try.”

  We stretch, check our watches, and we’re off.

  It’s still cool, a beautiful morning, perfect for a run.

  The path takes us through a wooded area, then out along the ocean. It’s nice huffing and puffing beside my mother, my heart pumping fast. I know Mom’s purposely keeping her pace down so we can stay together. She’s in awesome shape.

  I look at my mother, so young-looking, healthy, and beautiful—that jet-black hair with no grays yet, those stunning green eyes, alabaster cheeks, her skin so pale despite our living by the ocean. My mom is religious about wearing sunblock and hats to protect her skin from the sun.

  I think about Mrs. Sivler, Ruby’s mother, about how when I saw her the other day, I rolled my eyes, thinking how she was dressed like a teenager. How foolish she was pining over that poodle like it was a person. Now I feel bad for her. How frightened she must be. I wish I could tell my mother about the cancer diagnosis, but I did give my promise to Ruby.

  Back home, I go to the kitchen to grab a muffin. Rosie is putting a tray of quiche in the oven. Her last day. She leaves tonight.

  “Tell Sulamina Mum I said hello,” Rosie says. “Tell her my good news.”

  “Oh, I will,” I say. “She’ll be so happy for you, Rosie.”

  Running upstairs to my room, I can barely contain my excitement as I shower and get dressed for church. I put on a white top, a pink skirt, and my new pink sneakers. Mum, Mum … Mum, Mum, Mum, plays the melody in my head. I cannot wait to see her!

  At a quarter to eleven, Sam, Mom, Will, and I set off toward Nana’s to pick her up so we can all walk to BUC together.

  “Guess what,” Nana says. “That sweet Mr. Taylor had such a nice experience at our store that he said he’s going to encourage his friend Sheryl to do a signing here when her new book comes out next month.”

  “Sheryl who?” I say.

  “Sheryl Crow,” Nana says.

  “Sheryl Crow!?” my mother shrieks. “Oh, my gosh, I love her.”

  “Me, too,” Sam says with a sly grin.

  “Watch it, buster,” my mother says, playfully elbowing Sam’s arm.

  When we reach town and BUC is in sight, I cannot wait a second longer.

  “See you there,” I say, and off I go, running all the way—down the street, up the stairs, across the lobby. There she is!

  “Mum!” I shout.

  “Willa!”

  I race to her and she swoops me up, her billowy rainbow-striped vestment swirling out around us as she hug-dances me about.

  “How’s my favorite girl in the whole world?” Mum says.

  “I couldn’t be happier, Mum,” I say. “Now that you’re back.”

  Mum’s big brown eyes, her warm, warm smile, her beautiful face is shining just as I remembered it. She looks thinner, though, much thinner actually.

  “What about me, little mama?” Riley, Mum’s husband, says. “Where’s my sugar this morning?”

  “Hi, Riley!” I laugh. Riley hugs me. I kiss his cheek.

  “Look how pretty you are, all grown up,” he says. “What are you, in college now? We sure did miss you, sugar.”

  “Missed you more,” I say.

  Inside, the congregation is positively bee-buzzing with joy at having Sulamina Mum back with us. The pews are packed, everyone bubbling with happy conversation.

  Mum’s nephew, Rob, sits with us. “Where’ve you been, stranger?” I ask him.

  “Trying to dodge the authors,” he says, jokingly referring to Tina and Ruby.

  The Belles, Tina’s family, sit down a few rows behind us, and when Tina and Will lock eyes, Tina looks like she’s going to burst into tears.

  Will whispers something to Sam and then makes his way out of our pew to go back and sit with Tina.

  I feel bad for the two of them. They just really connected and now Will is leaving.

  Will is leaving. My heart hurts.

  Over there is JFK’s family, Mr. and Mrs. Kennelly and JFK’s little brother, Brendan. I feel a punch in my stomach. Brendan waves at me and I wave back. I think of JFK. I think of Jess. When I turn back around in my seat, my mother is looking at me. “Everything okay?” she says.

  Mrs. Saperstone and Dr. Swammy come in and take a seat. They smile and nod at me. The “S.’s” I’ll call them from now on. I need to finish planning their wedding pronto—later today after Rosie leaves, after Will leaves, when I stop crying long enough to put on my happy face again and can focus on their special day.

  The organist starts playing and we stand to sing “’Tis a gift to be simple, ’tis a gift to be free…”

  I hear a shuffle and out of the corner of my eye I see the Sivlers, Ruby and her mom and dad, and older sister home from college. Mrs. Sivler is dressed in a tailored turquoise linen pantsuit with matching turquoise and silver jewelry, her red hair swept back off her shoulders. Her face, usually garishly made up, has a lot less makeup this morning. She is eerily expressionless.

  Then, as if Mrs. Sivler knows she’s being watched and wants to keep up appearances, a smile crosses her face and she raises her chin up.

  Mum takes the pulpit, and as I knew she would, she wastes no time calling on each of us to think about our lives, how we are using our lives.

  “Don’t just drop off three cans of soup at a food pantry or write a check and be done,” she says. “Every day, each and every day, be open to the opportunities to serve that will arise. Be ready and waiting to serve.”

  I think about how I can’t wait to make CHANGE FOR GOOD jugs for Mum and Riley. And wait till Mum hears about my plan to give all my books away!

  In an hour, the service is over. “In conclusion,” Mum says, “the great and talented funny lady Erma Bombeck once said, ‘When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, “I used everything you gave me.”’ That, my friends, is my challenge to you this da
y. Go and use everything God has given you. Do not waste a precious moment. Go, go, go, go, go, go. Go!”

  My eyes are drawn back to Mrs. Sivler. Her head is resting on Mr. Sivler’s shoulder. Ruby is rubbing her mother’s arm. A cry catches in my throat.

  As the congregation files out, I see Jessie with his mother, and my heart skips a beat. I didn’t know they were here! I’m not watching where I’m going and I plunge into Mr. Wickstrom. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I say. I look back over to where Jess was standing, but now he’s gone. My mother is observing all of this. She looks at me and squints her eyes like Hmmmm … What have we here?

  I move ahead and out into the lobby area. Mrs. Saperstone and Dr. Swammy are talking with Mum. Mum makes a whooping sound, claps her hands in the air, and dances around a bit. Clearly they have shared their happy news with her.

  Good, now the wedding planner can proceed with the reception.

  “What time will the service be?” I ask Dr. Swammy.

  “Five P.M. Saturday,” he says.

  Mrs. Saperstone nods. “And the reception right after at six in the library garden. Okay, Willa?”

  “Sounds good,” I say. “I’ll have a plan to show you tomorrow.”

  “Good,” Mrs. S. says. “We’ll start calling our friends.”

  The Sivlers are waiting next to speak with Mum. Mr. Sivler talks and I see Mum nodding her head solemnly. When he’s done, Mum takes Mrs. Sivler in her arms and hugs her. They hug for a long time. Then Mum thrusts her fist up in the air in what looks like a fighting stance. She pushes that fist up, up, up in the air.

  Good, I’m glad Mrs. Sivler shared her secret. Mum will help her get through this for sure.

  Riley is standing in the corner, sipping coffee. I go over to talk with him.

  I tell him how Mrs. Saperstone and Dr. Swammy are getting married next Saturday and how I am planning their wedding reception. “So that’s what they were talking to Sully about just now,” he says. “Sully” is Riley’s special name for Mum. “Sully sure looked happy for them…. I wonder what those other people, with the lady in the blue suit, were talking to Sully about. Did you see her pushing her fist up, all powerful?”