First thing the next morning, I call Beatrice. Of course she doesn’t answer, no doubt she’s screening her calls again. I start to leave a message.
“Hi, Beatrice. It’s Maris, just wanting to resc . . .”
“Hello, Maris?” answers a male voice. I let out a frustrated sigh—Trevor.
“Gran is talking to the lawn guy, apparently they planted the wrong plants and she’s giving them hell.” He laughs.
“That doesn’t surprise me. Please just tell her I called.” I’m about to hang up but he keeps talking.
“So, how are you doing?” he asks.
“Doing great. Thanks. I have to go but please have Beatrice call me.” I hang up quickly.
I sit there with the phone still in my hand. What the hell is wrong with me? There was no reason for me to be that rude. For some reason I have a big problem when it comes to Trevor and with no good reason.
My phone rings a minute later. I look and see it’s Beatrice calling back.
“Hi, Beatrice,” I say cheerfully.
“I’m sorry I missed your call. Can I ask you a question?” I tense up hoping that Trevor didn’t mention my shortness with him. I don’t want her to read more into it than it is.
“Why is it when you pay for a service and you expect the best work possible, people still can’t do things right? I mean, I go to the nursery to pick out the plants and they still bring me some hideously ugly bushes.” She continues on giving me the play-by-play of her recent experience with the worst landscaping company in North America (her description, not mine).
“They think they’re so clever trying to take advantage of an old lady. Well, I will show them. I will bring them down, I will bring them down to Chinatown.” I let her take her time venting because, after all, she’s eighty-nine years old.
“So, how are you, dear?” she asks when she finally calms down. “When would you like to get together again?”
Relief washes over me as she doesn’t mention one word about how rude I was to her grandson. We make plans for the following Friday, and I tell her that I will pick her up.
“One more thing, dear, I will need your and your parents’ addresses. As you know, my daughter is throwing me this big birthday party and I would love for you all to come. I figure if I must attend this stupid thing I might as well make it fun.” I laugh as she continues rambling about the party. “What’s the party really about anyway? It’s like she’s saying ‘Hooray for Mom that she hasn’t kicked the bucket yet.’”
I give her our addresses before we hang up. I’m not sure how I will get out of attending this party and it’s not because I wouldn’t want to be there for Beatrice. It’s just that running into Trevor and the miserable Giselle doesn’t sound like my idea of a fun night out. But I will make an exception because I have a feeling that Grandma would want me to be there.
~*~*~
“Aren’t you at all interested in helping me make plans for this trip?” I ask Kyle. We’re sitting on his couch getting ready to watch a movie and I’m harassing him yet again about our New York trip.
“Babe, you know I will be busy most of the time with training,” he says as he’s fiddling around with the TV remote. “We will go to some great restaurants in the evenings though. My co-workers invited us to join them for dinners, so that should be fun.”
Is he trying to tell me that we’ll be having dinner with the co-workers every night? So much for our romantic trip together, Georgie’s big dreams will be shattered. I don’t say anything, but I guess Kyle can see the disappointment on my face.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, looking concerned.
“I was just hoping we could spend time together. I understand about your training during the day, but you did say that we would have the evenings with each other.” He wraps his arms around me tightly. “I mean, I don’t mind going to dinner with your co-workers one night but . . .”
“You’re totally right, I’m sorry,” he says. “In the evenings, I will be all yours so we can do whatever you want.”
I smile because most girls would love to hear their boyfriend say that.
“What about you?” I ask. “Anywhere you would like to go?”
I know I’m making a bigger deal out of this than I should. You would think that I’d be excited to pick and choose everything we do. Truthfully, I want to keep talking about our trip to continue avoiding the whole moving in together thing. Neither of us has brought it up since he asked and I know it’s coming. Kyle went out of his way to get all of my favorite snacks tonight and he let me pick the movie, so I’m pretty sure he’s expecting some kind of answer. That or he’s kissing up for something.
“Thanks for getting me all my favorites.” I lean over and kiss him. “Let’s start the movie.” That’s right, Maris, let’s start the movie so we don’t have to talk about anything awkward.
I get a bit nervous when he mentions that he has a question; thankfully, he asks about the recital. Before I know it, I end up unloading everything that’s been happening with the studio and Ash. It’s no surprise when he’s as supportive as ever. Unfortunately, my worry comes true when he follows up our conversation about the recital with the burning question.
“So, I know I told you to take your time but I was just curious if you’ve thought anymore about us moving in together?” he asks nervously. “I promise I’m not trying to rush you, but I was just wondering.”
All of a sudden he looks so sweet and innocent, which seems crazy considering he’s asking me to move in with him. It’s not that I’m super old-fashioned or anything, but it just seems like it’s too soon. I can’t even decide what state I want to live in much less make a decision like this.
“I have thought about it, a lot actually,” I tell him as I grab his hand. “And I’m just not sure if I’m ready yet.” His face completely falls and I know I owe him an explanation.
“Please don’t be upset, let me explain.” He nods even though he looks as if he might start crying at any second, which would be crazy because men aren’t supposed to be the emotional ones. I can’t remember ever seeing Kyle cry before. I think he cried about his promotion but those were happy tears.
“There are a few different reasons actually. First of all, I’m on the apartment lease with Georgie for several months and it would be very wrong of me to move out and leave her hanging. On top of that, with my parents moving, it just seems like a lot of change and you know I’m not great with change.”
He nods his head slowly and any trace of potential tears has disappeared. “So, there’s no other reason?”
What does he mean by that? His question completely catches me off guard. “Um, no. Of course there’s no other reason, what are you talking about?”
Kyle rubs his temples with his fingers. “I’m not sure really. Something just seems off with you lately. I keep telling myself that you’re stressed out with work and family; I just hope that’s all of it.”
Huh. I didn’t think I was being so obvious but he must have sensed things were off. I quickly debate with myself if I should tell him about my feelings now that I’m leaning toward staying. It’s really not even worth the hassle and I’m not really up for any more questions tonight.
“I just wanted you to know that I love you very much.” He continues. “I thought us moving in together would make things less stressful and make you feel better about your family moving. I know how hard that’s been, so I wanted to assure you that no matter what, you still have me.”
Wow. It’s official that the best boyfriend ever award goes to Kyle and the worst girlfriend ever award goes to me. I lean in to kiss him again.
“I don’t deserve you at all.” I tell him. “I love you, too, and even though I’m going through some stuff right now that doesn’t change any of my feelings. We don’t have to live together to prove that to each other. Things are good so there’s no reason to change it.”
Yes! I feel as if a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Kyle seems to be content w
ith my decision and the rest of our night is amazing. I still feel guilty for even considering the possibility of going to New York and I feel even guiltier that I’ve kept that from him. I have such an attentive and loving man in my life and I know most women only dream of finding someone like him. Perhaps I don’t appreciate how good I have it, but a part of me is afraid that I’m never going to be satisfied if I don’t take a chance. There’s always the possibility that if I did move that we could stay together. I’ve never believed that I could be in a long-distance relationship but I guess I could try it. That’s if I decide to move, and right now I just don’t know.
Chapter 9
It’s really bad to drive when you’re as exhausted as I am. Hopefully I don’t start drifting into other lanes or get pulled over. Kyle tells me all the time that I’m a drifter when I drive and that’s when I’m not surviving on only four hours of sleep.
I was awoken several times by that same dream again. The one where I’m in the studio and someone is telling me that my singing was beautiful. This time the voice had more to say; it told me to never stop dreaming and to never stop singing. I had it two times last night and both times I had a hard time falling back to sleep. The strangest thing is that I can hear the voice so clearly but there’s no one there.
Admittedly, it’s starting to freak me out a little bit. I’ve never been one to believe in all that crazy dream-ghost-visitors from the other side stuff—in fact, I usually just try to avoid that type of stuff if I can. When I was younger, I went with Georgie and her family to Daytona Beach in Florida. There’s a little town not too far from there that we went to called Cassadaga. It’s supposedly a spiritualist town filled with psychics, but there are a lot of stories and myths that surround it. I’m not sure what the true story is. Anyway, I was freaked out from the second we arrived until the second we left. Since then, I get really uncomfortable anytime something like that comes up. Despite these feelings, I’ve been having a strong impression that there’s a message I’m supposed to be taking from these dreams. It may just be all in my head or maybe they are just stress-induced dreams.
Beatrice is ready when I arrive and there’s not a trace of Trevor, so that makes me both happy and relieved.
On our ride to the restaurant, Beatrice is updating me on the saga of the lawn care situation. I find it so funny that she curses like a sailor when she feels strongly about something.
“Did you receive the invitation to my party?” I can tell she’s still not excited about this birthday by the way she practically spit out the word party.
“Not yet,” I reply. “It’s really sweet of you to invite me though. I hope you didn’t feel obligated.”
I don’t want her to think that I don’t want to go because that’s not exactly true even though the idea of spending an evening with the power couple, Trevor and Giselle, is not that high on my list of things to do.
“Of course not!” she exclaims. “I hear it’s going to be quite the party, I just wish I didn’t have to go.”
I laugh. “Beatrice, can I ask you why you’re so against this party? I mean, it sounds like your family is just trying to celebrate such a special milestone.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She rolls her eyes. “Honestly, my daughter just loves to throw a party any chance she can.” Hmm . . . that’s interesting. I sense some kind of tension surrounding Beatrice and her daughter.
“Come on, I’m sure she wants to celebrate your ninetieth.”
“It’s not just because of my birthday . . .” she trails off. “I’m sorry, dear, I love my daughter very much, except sometimes we don’t see eye to eye. Katherine was always more of a daddy’s girl, if you know what I mean, and since my husband passed away, she tries very hard to make up for that and she really shouldn’t. The problem is that she goes overboard by treating me like a child. Like this big birthday party for example, you wouldn’t believe what she has planned.” Beatrice shakes her head at the thought.
“Don’t get mad at me for saying this, especially because it’s none of my business, but your daughter is obviously proud of you and wants to do this for you. Why not let her?” I lean away just in case she slaps me. She’s a feisty old lady so you never know.
“That’s something that Charles would say,” she says, looking out the window. “They had such a special bond. We were both so devastated when we lost him.”
Mayday! Mayday! Things just got really depressing really fast. I need to lighten things up a bit.
“I’m sorry, Beatrice. We can talk about something else if you want,” I say.
“Oh no, dear, it’s fine.” She waves her hand at me. “I don’t mind talking about this. We have to talk about our loved ones when they pass, that’s how we keep memories alive. After all, that’s why we are having lunch together—to talk about Maris.”
Yes! I’ve been so busy listening to her story that I almost forgot about that.
“I apologize again, by the way, that my grandson interrupted our lunch. It’s not really his fault, though, because he has strict instructions from his mother to keep a good eye on me. He’s a good boy though—always going out of his way for me.”
Ha! She called Trevor a boy as if he was sweet and innocent. Although, I can see how much he loves her, so I guess he can’t be all that bad.
“He said to tell you hello, by the way.” The tone of her voice changes slightly as she smiles.
“Oh yes, tell him hello for me, too,” I say quickly. Seriously, Maris, that was extremely fake and obvious.
“Can I tell you a secret?” she whispers. I don’t know why she’s whispering because we’re the only two people in the car but whatever.
“Um, sure,” I whisper back. Great, now I’m whispering, too.
“I think my grandson likes you; he just doesn’t know it yet.”
My heart sinks and suddenly I feel carsick. I didn’t know you could get carsick when you’re driving.
“Beatrice, you’re so funny. I happen to know that Trevor has a girlfriend whom he adores,” I say nervously.
“Nah—their relationship will never last,” she says confidently. “That Giselle is so full of herself, Trevor will get tired of it. You just watch.”
I don’t want to watch because I don’t care. My grip gets firmer on the steering wheel.
“What do you think of him?” she asks, making me even more uncomfortable. I swallow hard and put on my best performance face.
“Seems like a nice guy and he’s obviously devoted to you, which is very sweet.” I smile warmly at her. “Honestly, though, I have a wonderful boyfriend, so I don’t really think of Trevor in that way.”
Beatrice smiles out the window. “If there’s anything I’ve learned in my almost ninety years, it’s that you never know the path that your life is going to take. Things happen that bring people into your life for a reason. Sometimes things are meant to be no matter what you expect or plan on.”
I’m not really sure what she’s implying, although it sure is obvious that she doesn’t like Giselle and she’s hoping for her grandson to find someone else.
“Don’t you think it’s curious how you and Trevor met at that party and then again at my house? There’s something to be said about that. In fact, that’s kind of how Charles and I found each other . . .” All of a sudden she stops talking and gets a worried look on her face. “Oh, never mind all of that.”
She becomes silent, and for some reason the mood has turned very awkward. I’m not sure what has happened, but I can’t wait to get out of this car.
When we arrive at the restaurant, she’s talking a mile a minute again. We have a great time and she tells me a few more stories about her and Grandma in college. I listen intently, but for some reason I have a feeling that she’s leaving something out. It was really odd the way she suddenly stopped talking earlier. I don’t want to pry, but now I’m almost convinced that it has something to do with that entry in Grandma’s journal. Whatever it is that happened, Beatrice doesn’t want to talk about it
.
After I drop her off at home, I think about everything. I don’t even know why I’m so curious about all of this. Really, why do I care so much?
When I get home, I take out the journal and skim through the pages I’ve read, looking for some more clues to this mystery. As I read back through, something catches my eye from her June 15 entry:
I have been dating Charles, who is such a gentleman. He took me on a picnic in Central Park and it was so lovely.
I was supposed to meet Beatrice for tea today but she cancelled again. I wish I knew what was wrong?
Charles? Hold on, didn’t Beatrice say her husband’s name was Charles? They have to be different people, right? I skim through the next several entries and there’s only one more mention of him and then nothing. So, did Beatrice steal Grandma’s boyfriend? Is that why they had a falling out? That has to be why Grandma wrote about not having true friends.
See You Soon Broadway (Broadway Series Book 1) Page 7