Change of Heart

by Courtney Walsh

  She resisted the urge to groan but stepped out of the way so they could enter. No sense pretending she had a choice.

  “Oh, my, isn’t this an interesting look for you?” Gigi said as she passed.

  Abigail stopped in front of her and handed her a cup of something warm. “Thought you could use this.” More than any of them, Abigail could relate to losing everything. Last year, when she lost The Book Nook, Abigail must’ve thought her world was caving in too. Did she wonder why God had left her? Did she battle anger and fear and worry and dread? Probably not like Evelyn did. Sometimes her thoughts were so dark they shamed her.

  She took the coffee and forced a smile. “Thanks.”

  “For the record, I was against this ‘show of support.’”

  Evelyn closed the door. “I had a feeling it wasn’t your idea.” They moved into the living room, where the other ladies had already set up shop. A tray of pastries and bagels sat on the white coffee table at the center of the room. Ursula and Doris had claimed the oversize armchairs while Tess Jenkins perched on the edge of the couch, where Evelyn had been spending most of her life lately.

  “Love what you’ve done with the place,” Ursula said, her tone sarcastic as she surveyed the damage of three weeks’ worth of neglect. “Doesn’t bode well if you’re trying to prove you’re not mentally ill.”

  “Ursula!” Gigi’s tone warned. Panicked expressions crisscrossed the room.

  “What are you talking about?” Evelyn sensed there was something they weren’t telling her.

  “It’s nothing, dear,” Gigi said, her tone maternal.

  “Tell me,” Evelyn said.

  “It’s all over the news,” Ursula said, biting into a donut. “Don’t you read?”

  “What’s all over the news?”

  A thick, weighty silence filled the room, Evelyn at its center. “Tell me.”

  “Honey, sometimes it’s better not to know what everyone is saying behind your back,” Doris said.

  “This is not one of those times, Doris.”

  “Oh, it might be,” Doris replied.

  “Someone recorded you,” Ursula said. “It’s gone virus.”

  “Viral,” Abigail corrected. “A stupid YouTube video.”

  “Of me?” Evelyn reached for her laptop, but Gigi snatched it before she could get her hands on it. Didn’t matter, though. She knew what had happened. The Good Samaritan’s teenager had posted the video of her meltdown online.

  As if her fall outside the courthouse playing on a continual loop wasn’t humiliating enough, now she’d had an all-out viral breakdown.

  “That was weeks ago,” Evelyn said, wishing she could go hide under the quilt on the bed upstairs, worn threadbare from years of comforting people in their darkest moments.

  “The boy said he didn’t know who you were until now,” Gigi explained. “He posted it right away, but once he changed the headline to include your name, well, that’s when the thing took off.”

  Evelyn smoothed her hair back and plopped down on the other end of the couch while Abigail and Gigi sat on the love seat opposite the two stuffed armchairs. Evelyn couldn’t muster an ounce of social grace.

  “I don’t know why I’m even surprised,” Evelyn said, feeling defeated.

  “Good thing you don’t read the newspaper,” Ursula said.

  “Ursula!” A choir of exasperation rang out.

  “It’s fishy,” the old woman spat. “And she deserves to know.”

  “Evelyn, who have you talked to lately?” Gigi asked.

  Evelyn frowned. “Why?”

  “The newspaper published an article about you.”

  Evelyn let her head rest on the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t want to know.”

  “They had your appointment records with the therapist in Dillon. And a list of the medications you’ve been taking,” Doris said. “Someone would have to be close to you to find out those things. We didn’t even know.”

  The memory of her fall on the way into the courthouse clamored for her attention. Her pills had never turned up. She’d had to order a new bottle, and it had been ages since she’d needed to do that.

  “One of those reporters got ahold of my medication,” she said, sure of it now.

  “Well, they certainly did their homework,” Tess said. “I had no idea about your panic attacks. The anxiety. The stress of being a politician’s wife must’ve done a number on you.”

  “I’ve always been this way,” Evelyn said mindlessly.

  The others stared at her, but she didn’t elaborate.

  “Lots of people take antidepressants. This hardly seems like news,” Abigail said, defensive.

  “They’re trying to make her look like she’s mentally unstable,” Doris said, whispering the last two words. “You know. Cuckoo.” She wound her finger in a circle around her ear and let her eyes cross.

  “Doris,” Ursula scolded.

  “Oh, you’re one to talk,” the other woman said with a frown.

  “You missed our meeting,” Gigi said, obviously eager to change the subject.

  “Sorry.” Evelyn’s response was hollow, of course, because she wasn’t sorry nor did she even realize there had been a meeting to miss.

  “You’re still a member of the Volunteers, and we wanted to give you some time to yourself, but we do have work to do,” Doris said, sounding falsely chipper.

  “Forgive me if I don’t feel like matchmaking right this minute,” Evelyn said. It all seemed so trite when she thought about it. Pairing singletons, reading love letters, stamping envelopes. Why had she ever joined this group in the first place?

  Because Christopher told her to. Why else?

  “We have a task that we think is the perfect distraction for you. We waited for some of the chaos to die down, and we feel like the time is finally right,” Gigi said.

  Evelyn didn’t ask what it was because she didn’t want to know.

  A knock at the door made Evelyn wonder if she was hosting a party and no one had told her.

  Another knock. She glanced at the clock. It had been three hours since her last visit from Whit. Odds were that was him on her front porch. He’d been checking in on her every day since she returned from the hearing, always with an excuse to be there. She knew better. He was probably afraid she was going to do something stupid like swallow all the pills her shrink had prescribed.

  She wasn’t that desperate. Yet.

  “Aren’t you going to get it?” Gigi wore an inquisitive expression.

  “I wasn’t going to, no.” It wouldn’t be the first time she’d tried to ignore Whit’s pounding, though even she had to admit it was pointless. He would worry she’d done something stupid and find a way in. He always did.

  “Then I’ll get it,” Gigi said.

  Evelyn stood. That would be a mistake. Her best bet was to convince Whit to leave. And fast. But Gigi was quicker than she looked, and Evelyn reached her just after she pulled the door open, revealing Trevor, who looked less surprised than she expected.

  “Thank you for coming, Mr. Whitney.”

  “I had a choice?” He met Evelyn’s gaze. She looked away. What did he think of her in that moment? She’d let herself fall apart under his watchful eye and he had to have opinions about that.

  Gigi walked past her, back toward the living room, leaving her in the entryway alone with Whit.

  “You okay?” He stopped beside her but didn’t turn to face her. As if he could sense her humiliation.

  She mustered a nod. He lingered a long moment, then moved into the living room. From nowhere, tears had clouded her sight. She wasn’t accustomed to sympathy, especially not from him. She’d learned to live on the other side of his cold shoulder.

  She sniffed, wiped her cheeks, and joined her unwanted guests in the living room. They’d already begun talking, and Whit looked as out of place as a cowboy at the prom.

  “Have you been out with her again?” Doris leaned forward as if waiting for a jui
cy bit of gossip.

  Whit shifted under her prying question. “This can’t be why you brought me here, ladies,” he said. “I think I made it clear I don’t want any help with my love life.”

  Gigi’s eyes narrowed. “Indeed.” She glanced at Evelyn, who stood in the doorway like an intruder. “Evelyn, perhaps we could use your help with some matchmaking. We need to be sure Mr. Whitney doesn’t ruin this opportunity with Miss Lawson.”

  Evelyn frowned. “Mr. Whitney is doing just fine on his own, Gigi.” He’d been gone a couple nights that week, and she had to assume he’d been with Maggie. She knew because she missed the sound of his acoustic guitar filling the darkness with a melody. She often listened from her perch on one of the Adirondack chairs, admiring the music in him, wondering if this was how he expressed himself when words seemed to fail him so frequently. He must love playing enough to overcome his disdain for being around people because she happened to know he was a regular on the praise team at Loves Park Community Church.

  Maybe things were heating up with Maggie. That would be good, right? Just because she was miserable didn’t mean she wanted her friends to be.

  “Uh-huh.” Gigi zeroed in on Whit. “But you do have a way of running from commitment, don’t you?”

  Trevor shifted in his seat.

  “We know all about the one that got away,” Gigi said. “We want to be sure you don’t make that same mistake twice.”

  Wide-eyed, Doris raised her hand as she spoke. “I’m sorry I told them about Rachel. I felt it was important they knew you gave romance a try for yourself.”

  More restlessness from Whit.

  Gigi must’ve sensed Trevor’s fight-or-flight reflexes kicking in because she quickly raised her voice and announced, “We didn’t bring you here to talk about Miss Lawson.”

  “Though this is a match we approve of,” Doris said, winking. “At least we think we do.”

  Whit fidgeted. Evelyn actually felt sorry for him. He hated to be the center of attention, and these women were ruthless.

  Gigi motioned to Evelyn. “Sit down, Evelyn. This concerns you too.”

  All heads turned her way. Like she said, ruthless. Evelyn sat next to Whit, the only open spot in the room.

  “You ever going to wash that thing?” Whit whispered with a nod toward the sweater she’d been wearing for a solid week.

  She shot a look at him and noticed the grin tugging the corners of his mouth. She hadn’t felt like smiling in weeks, but something about his boyish smile changed that.

  Suddenly, thanks to these women, she and Whit were allies.

  Gigi’s stern voice grabbed her attention. “We’ve been watching the two of you,” she said, sounding like a grade school principal who’d just caught two kids throwing wet toilet paper against the walls in the bathroom.

  “And we think you’re hiding something,” Doris said.

  Trevor’s eyes widened.

  “Not you too.” Evelyn groaned. “I don’t know where the money is. I didn’t know about the women. I haven’t talked to Christopher since he got back.”

  Gigi frowned at Doris. “Probably not the best way to start the conversation in light of current circumstances.”

  Doris grimaced. “Sorry.”

  “That’s not what we’re talking about, Evelyn,” Gigi said. “It’s come to our attention that the hearts for the Loves Park lampposts are in dire need of an artistic overhaul.”

  “The hearts?” Evelyn frowned. They’d come all the way here to talk about wooden hearts?

  “We have it on good authority that the two of you have talents worth sharing with our community,” Tess said, her voice far too chirpy for any hour of the day.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Whit said, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.

  “Don’t be so modest, Mr. Whitney,” Gigi said. “Doris told us all about your extracurricular activities.” She waggled her eyebrows as she said the words. “No wonder you’re too busy to pursue a life of love.”

  Evelyn frowned. “What’s she talking about?”

  Trevor stood. “I’m afraid that, with the farm, I don’t have time for Valentine’s Day traditions. Sorry, ladies.”

  “Mr. Whitney, would you at least hear us out?”

  He paused, sighed, then sat back down. Even Trevor’s brooding was no match for Gigi’s motherly toe-tapping.

  “As you know, every Valentine’s Day, the people of this community show their love for one another by purchasing wooden hearts that are hung on the lampposts all through Old Town. We paint custom messages on the hearts for the whole town to see. It’s a wonderful tradition dating back over forty years and an excellent way to spread love.”

  “It also raises a good deal of money for the town,” Doris said with a nod. “Last year we were able to plant trees along Main Street with the money we made.”

  “Cut to the chase, Gigi,” Ursula said, crumbs on her shirt the only remnant of an annihilated cheese Danish. “You sound like a commercial.”

  “This year, we want to over. Haul. The. Hearts.” Gigi clapped with every syllable as she said the words as if she were talking to a classroom of preschoolers.

  Evelyn glanced at Abigail, who gave a slight shrug. “I’m not sure how this concerns me,” she said.

  Gigi shook her head. “Now you’re being modest, Evelyn. The city board has agreed to let us come up with a new look for the hearts, and they’re allowing us to handle all the particulars.” She raised an eyebrow at Whit. “I told you we did more than make matches.”

  He looked like he wanted to respond but wisely refrained.

  “We’re looking for something completely new and different. They still need to be made of wood and they still need to be hearts, but other than that, it’s up to you two.” She punctuated her sentence with a firm nod, then sat down as if her explanation made perfect sense.

  “I’m confused, Gigi. What do you want us to do?”

  Gigi sighed. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  Evelyn looked at Whit, who wore the same puzzled expression she imagined on her own face. “No.”

  The older woman motioned to Trevor. “You’re a woodworker. You cut the hearts out.” Then she motioned to Evelyn. “You’re an artist. You make them pretty. The two of you will make a lineup of example hearts, so people will get excited about placing orders this year.”

  “Gigi, it’s a long time until Valentine’s Day.” Evelyn would rather have a root canal than help people profess their love to each other on wooden hearts.

  “Yes, it is, so you have plenty of time to devise a plan.”

  Ursula reached for another Danish. “It’s not like you’ve got anything better to do.”

  Evelyn looked down while the other ladies all chastised their most outspoken member.

  “What?” Ursula said. “It’s true. Look at this place.”

  Shame crept into Evelyn’s belly. Trevor had opened this home to her and she’d done a terrible job of caring for it. She’d turned it into a prison, and as much as she hated to admit it, Ursula was right. She squirmed under their scrutiny.

  “Evelyn, the painted hearts have been such a lovely tradition in Loves Park for so many years. There’s something wonderfully romantic about purchasing a heart to have your own personal message inscribed on it as a declaration of love for the whole town to see.”

  “Sure, but what’s wrong with the hearts the way they are?” Evelyn frowned.

  Gigi returned the expression. “They simply don’t reflect the artistic side of our town. Plain red hearts with white stenciled words? Surely you can come up with something prettier than that—something worthy of this glorious tradition.”

  Gigi certainly was dramatic.

  “I’ll think about it, okay?” Evelyn rose. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  “Where are you going, dear?” Gigi also stood.

  But Evelyn didn’t respond because the truth was, she didn’t have any idea where she was going.

  CHAPTERr />
  20

  AFTER A LONG WALK AROUND THE FARM, Evelyn expected to return to an empty guesthouse, but as she approached, she could see Ursula sitting on the porch swing out front.

  Great.

  The old woman stood as soon as she spotted Evelyn. “Took ya long enough.”

  Evelyn didn’t know if she had the patience for Ursula right now. Then again, at least she knew Ursula wouldn’t lie to her. That had to count for something.

  “Where’d you go? That much walking could kill you.”

  Evelyn stared at the ground. “I needed to get out of the house.”

  “I’ll say. I opened all your windows. It was starting to stink in there.” She followed Evelyn inside, where the temperature had shot up about twenty degrees. It was early June, and the days were warm.

  “You do know I have the air on, right?” Evelyn closed the windows in the living room.

  Not surprisingly Ursula didn’t respond to that. “Do you know why I’m still here?”

  Evelyn turned and raised a brow. “How could I possibly know that?”

  Ursula narrowed her eyes. “Don’t get smart with me, missy. I’m here because I’ve got something to tell you.”

  Evelyn waited.

  Ursula sat in the plush armchair, crossing her feet at the ankles. Evelyn supposed that was about as ladylike as Ursula Pembrooke was going to get. Never mind she was wearing tennis shoes with knee-highs and a skirt.

  “You know my marriage to Frankie is one of this town’s greatest love stories.”

  Evelyn almost scoffed but quickly realized Ursula was serious.

  “It’s just that nobody knows it is.” She leaned back in the chair, and Evelyn had the distinct impression this wouldn’t be a quick visit.

  “Frankie was a shrewd businessman. Well, you know. He had a lot of enemies, and I guess he was a lot of things to a lot of people.” Ursula glanced up. “Not completely different from your husband.”

  Slowly Evelyn sat across from her.

  “Powerful men are always a crapshoot,” Ursula said. “But there was one thing Frankie never did, Evelyn.” Ursula’s trademark scowl had gone soft behind her glasses.

  Evelyn held her gaze, almost afraid of what would come next.