If You Must Know

by Beck, Jamie

  “I hardly think Dad gives two you-know-whats about red shoes,” I grumbled.

  Mom gave a sharp grunt of disapproval. To Nancy’s credit she took a deep breath and kept her eyes closed.

  For my own sanity, I mentally checked out and thought about how to convince my sister to forgive me so we could prepare for Willa’s arrival and I could tell her about kissing Eli. After all we’d been through, I refused to concede the ground we’d gained to Lyle’s viper tongue.

  For most of my life, I’d thought our differences too big for us to be close. Now, I knew we could bridge those if we learned to respect them rather than judge them. But there’d never before been a time when we didn’t speak to each other, so I first had to win back her trust.

  “Dorothy . . . I’m hearing a man say the name Dorothy . . . ,” Nancy said.

  “My sister’s name is Dorothy!” Mom’s hands went up with another hopeful smile.

  “Why would Dad bring up Aunt Dodo? She made him crazy,” I said. More to the point, finding the name of my mother’s siblings would take almost no skill at all. So far, Nancy was batting a big fat zero. I’d give her credit for not quitting, though.

  Kevin’s mask started to slip. He stole another glance at his watch and shot me a “spare me” look. Nancy closed her eyes again, so I made a silly face. From the corner of my eye, I saw Amanda scowl at me.

  “Buttonwood . . . ,” Nancy said, eyes opening. “The base of the sycamore tree.”

  My heart stopped as my mouth fell open.

  “What?” Amanda asked, yanking me from the memory. “You look spooked.”

  “Dad and I planted that sycamore in the backyard.”

  My mother clapped her hands together. “He’s here.”

  “Why would he show up to talk about a tree?” Kevin asked, all lawyerly.

  “I’m not sure.” And then I thought about red shoes and Dorothy and I leaped from my chair. “I know! I know!”

  I ran to the garage for a shovel and then raced out the kitchen door to the tree trunk.

  Within a minute or two, my family had gathered around me as I paced, trying to figure out where to dig. “It’s so big now . . . I don’t think I can get to the doll.”

  “What doll?” Kevin probed.

  “From The Wizard of Oz. Remember the little action figures? I buried Dorothy when we planted this tree.” I continued walking around the tree trunk, trying to remember where it might be.

  My mother waved her hands and gazed at the clouds as if spirits circled overhead. “William, what kind of nonsense is this? I need answers, not toys.”

  “Erin,” Kevin called, stopping me in my tracks. He reached for the shovel. “You’ll never get to that doll now. This trunk is massive. How about you try to think about whether there’s actually any significance to this memory? Why did you two bury the doll with the tree?”

  I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to recall every detail, reenacting the scene aloud.

  “Why can’t we plant an apple tree so we have fresh apples for Mom’s pies?” I’d said to my dad, hands on my hips. “Or a cherry tree—I love cherries.”

  “So do I, but this sycamore will grow to be huge and provide lots of shade for us.” He dug up the first shovelful of dirt.

  “Whoop-de-do!” I sank onto the bag of fertilized soil I’d dragged back there and crossed my legs.

  He patted my knee. “Come on now. This buttonwood will be here for generations, like a piece of Turner family history. You and me—we’re putting something in the ground that will outlive us.”

  I opened my eyes, staring up at the massive canopy of leaves now shading us all. “He went on and on about how deep its roots grew. I’d said, ‘Who cares? You can’t see the roots, unlike the apples or pink flowers of the other trees.’”

  Amanda stared at me, wide-eyed and accepting, as if she’d known that if Dad did show himself, it would be to me. That wouldn’t help us mend fences.

  I turned to Mom. “Dad said that roots were more important than the pretty flowers. At first I thought he’d said that because he knew it hurt my feelings that everyone always complimented Amanda’s looks but no one ever called me pretty.” I avoided my sister’s gaze and glanced instead at Kevin. “But then he talked about how roots kept the tree safe, and that it was like that with a family, too. That all the people in a family could stretch in different directions like branches, but the roots would always bind them together and keep them strong. And then I said that must be why people called it a family tree. And then he said something about how there is never anyplace as important as home . . . and that’s when I ran inside to get Dorothy and bury her with our tree, ’cause, you know, that’s what she said.”

  Kevin laughed at me, head shaking. “Sounds exactly like something you and Dad would do. Good metaphor, too.”

  “Except sometimes branches get diseased and need to be pruned,” Amanda quipped and turned to go back inside.

  I bit my tongue and followed her, as did the others.

  “None of this helps us with the gossip or selling the boat,” Mom groused as we filed in through the kitchen door.

  We returned to the dining room but didn’t take our seats. “Maybe the point is that none of that matters as much as this right here.” I circled our little group with my index finger. “Instead of focusing our energy on everything out there, we should be grateful for and help each other.”

  “Works for me.” Kev scratched his head. “I was dreading coming today, and had no idea what to expect, but I actually feel better. It’s been an interesting way to mark our loss.”

  “I’d think you’d be happier, Mom,” I said when faced with her befuddled expression.

  “Is that all?” She looked at Nancy with an air of desperation. “Is he saying anything else? A special message just for me?”

  My heart squeezed. I’d grown up believing I was his favorite person, and maybe I was—who knows for sure? But he’d been my mother’s favorite, and her raw longing made my eyes sting. For the first time, I wanted Nancy to make up some loving message to make my mother feel better.

  Nancy closed her eyes but then shrugged. “I’m sorry. I’m not hearing anything now.”

  “Don’t be sad, Mom.” I hugged my mother and kissed her temple, teasing, “Be happy that you get to prove my naysaying wrong. That’s gotta be satisfying.”

  Mom snorted.

  “Mom, Dad showed you every day how much he loved you and relied on you to keep us all in line,” Kev gently added. “Maybe this tree business is his way of reminding you he’s still right here standing guard over you.”

  She nodded but didn’t speak.

  “I think I’ll leave you all to digest the message.” Nancy took her purse and smiled at us. “I wish I would have met William. He sounds lovely. If you need anything more, you know how to reach me.”

  Once she was gone, Kevin said, “Marcy won’t believe this. I’m still stunned. But I can totally picture Erin and Dad out there having that conversation.”

  “I miss his way of seeing things.” I gave my sister a pointed stare. “It’s pretty clear he wants us to stick together, no matter what.”

  “It’s not so easy when you can’t trust each other,” Amanda said, showing no signs of softening, despite the miracle we’d experienced.

  “I don’t want to butt in where I don’t belong, but you’re being harsh, Amanda.” Kevin rubbed her shoulder. “I get it—you’ve been through the wringer—but Erin didn’t set out to hurt you. And how can you say you can’t trust her when she’s gone and made plans to make you a partner in her business?”

  I’d forgotten that I’d asked him to start the paperwork before I went to Puerto Rico. This wasn’t exactly how I had expected to surprise her with a possible new chapter in our lives.

  “What?” Amanda asked, while Mom splayed a hand across her chest.

  “When we met with Agent Crowley, Erin asked me to draw up a partnership agreement for Shakti Suds.” Kevin’s brows knit as his gaze bou
nced back and forth between my sister and me.

  Now that I had Amanda’s attention, I said, “You’ve been offering to help me with the admin stuff, so I thought together we might actually make decent money, which we could both use. Then everything else happened this week, and I forgot to mention it.”

  “You want me to be your partner?” Amanda’s eyes turned misty.

  “I did—I do if you can get past your anger.” I turned to Mom. “I didn’t think you wanted the responsibility, so don’t get offended. I still like mixing products with you.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake, I’m not offended. I’m a librarian, not a soap maven. I only help you because you’re here and it’s something to do.” She waved her hands.

  “Well, you can still help us—or me, if Amanda isn’t interested.” I turned back to my sister. “You’re pretty quiet.”

  Amanda looked at Mom and Kevin. “I’m floored.”

  “So you’re not interested?”

  “I didn’t say that . . . I’m still reeling from the whole thing with Dad. And, honestly, I’m still hurt by your secretiveness.”

  I held my hands out from my sides. “I’ve explained and apologized. I can’t go back and fix it, but I wouldn’t make the same choice today. You have to know that.”

  “I suppose I do.” She nodded. “Maybe I overreacted—things would be so much worse for us if you hadn’t gone to Puerto Rico. And I know that cost you a shot with Eli. I’m sorry about that. And I’m sorry I didn’t accept your apology sooner.”

  I wrapped her in a hug. “It’s okay. It’s been a terrible time, and you’ve got extra hormones swimming around.”

  She held me tight. “Thank you.”

  When we broke apart, I said, “By the way, Eli and I patched things up. I didn’t tell you because, well . . .”

  “Because I haven’t been speaking to you.” She wiped her eyes. “I’m happy for you. When will we meet him?”

  Before I could answer, Kevin said, “Looks like my work here is done. I’ll follow up on the house sale and boat stuff this week, and email those partnership papers.”

  He kissed us all goodbye before leaving.

  Despite my sister’s and my reconciliation and a message from Dad even I had a hard time ignoring, my mother’s sour expression remained fixed.

  “Are you still upset that Dad didn’t say more?” I asked.

  “No. It’s just that all of you get to move on—with your business, with a new boyfriend, a baby—but what’s better for me? I’m still a widow—a notorious one who lent a criminal so much money.” She covered her face.

  I grabbed her hands and gently pulled them away. “Mom, it’s been a stressful and painful year. But look at this—we’re all under the same roof again, learning to trust each other and work together. Accepting the things that are different about each other. Isn’t that worth more than a few lost dollars and a little embarrassment? At the end of the day, the worst thing anyone can say about you is that you love your children and are extremely generous. Is that so awful?”

  “And you know I’ll need help with Willa.” Amanda stroked her arm. “Dr. Blount’s given you a clean bill of mental health, so once Kevin sorts out all the legal stuff, I’m hoping you’ll want to babysit a few days a week.”

  She nodded blankly without directly answering either of us. “I need to go for a little drive.”

  Maybe she thought she’d get more answers from Dad at his grave.

  As she backed out of the driveway, I said, “I’ll follow her to make sure she’s okay.”

  Amanda nodded, so I ran to the garage, jumped on my bike, and took the chance she had gone down Elm Street. Her red Prius came into view two cars ahead, so I hung back. My mother drove the speed limit, and a plethora of stop signs made it easy to track her, especially when she headed north on Balsa Road. Not much out that way but Saint Bernard’s cemetery, as I’d expected.

  I didn’t go there often. For me, seeing Dad’s headstone—thinking about him lying beneath that cold field, surrounded by other skeletons and headstones—disturbed me and made his absence sharper.

  My mother got out of her car and trod to the third row of graves, where she sank to her knees. I laid my bike on the ground and quietly came up behind her, heartsick to find her crying.

  “Mom,” I said, startling her.

  “Oh, Erin. Why’d you follow me?” She scowled, wiping her eyes.

  “To make sure you were okay.”

  “Well, I’m not. I haven’t been okay since your father died, and I’ll never be okay again. He was the heart of this family . . . he was my heart. Now that’s gone.”

  I sat in the grass beside her and rubbed her back. “It’s not gone. He’s part of all of us. You know I didn’t want to believe in Nancy’s hooey, but I can admit when I’m wrong. Dad is with us, even if we can’t see him. He’s here, Mom, and if we lean on each other, he’ll always be with us and we’ll be fine. Even if you don’t believe that yet, you have to try. Willa will be here soon, and we have to give her everything Dad would’ve wanted for her, right?”

  My mother glanced at his grave, nodding.

  “I know you feel lost without him, but of all the women he could’ve picked, he picked you because he knew you were strong and principled and the exact right person to help him build a family. Don’t give up on yourself or the rest of us now.”

  Her mouth twitched. “I don’t know if I can get used to this wiser version of you.”

  I smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty of crazy ideas floating around my head that’ll keep you on your toes for years to come.”

  My mother elbowed my side, chuckling. “Your dad loved you best.”

  “He didn’t love me best. He showered me with affection because I fit in the least and he wanted me to feel okay about that.”

  She squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t do that for you.”

  My throat tightened. I half expected a flock of doves or a double rainbow to accompany that unexpected apology. What a day!

  “It’s okay. We still have time.” For once, hugging my mother felt authentic.

  I still missed my dad something fierce, but peace finally came from knowing that, like that tree, our family would continue to grow strong in our love and commitment, thanks to him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  AMANDA

  Six weeks later

  The old sycamore provided much-needed shade today. The “Over the Hill” and silver “30”-shaped mylar balloons Mom and Aunt Dodo had tied all around the deck for Erin’s birthday stood erect and unmoving in the humid, stagnant summer air.

  I took a seat between my mom and Lyle’s father, Richard, jostling Willa, who fussed in my arms after waking from her nap.

  “I’m so glad she’s thriving,” Richard said, gathering her little fingers around his index finger. “I was worried when you called to tell me she came early.”

  Three weeks early, but my little Muffin’s lungs were formed, and she’d shown no signs of trouble so far. “She’s a perfect little pip-squeak, isn’t she?”

  I smiled, as I’d been doing since her birth. My heart could scarcely contain all the love and happiness that seemed to grow exponentially with each new day.

  Eli picked up his guitar again and played a soft melody. Willa’s eyes widened, and unblinking, she stopped fussing.

  “You’re a baby whisperer,” I said. “Can I record you now to play whenever she gets fussy?”

  Eli shot me a gentle smile while Erin gazed at him with such open warmth it brought on another wave of joy. She’d been spending more nights at his house lately—possibly to avoid being awakened by late-night feedings. Even so, she still visited most afternoons at Mom’s.

  After a day of purging and reorganizing, Kevin’s old room turned office now did double duty as a nursery. I hoped to get a full-time teaching job by Christmas, but in the meantime planned to sub when I could and continue at the nursery school a few days per week this fall. Mom had agreed to sit wit
h Willa during those hours. It wasn’t the perfect plan I’d once needed, but it was doable.

  Little Billy lay passed out on Kevin’s shoulder after the comedown from his sugar rush. “We’ve got to get going so we can drop Richard at the airport on our way home.”

  “Happy birthday, Erin.” Marcy gave her a little hug from behind.

  Erin patted her hands. “Thanks for coming.”

  “Good to see you, honey.” Mom stood to give Billy a peck on the cheek and say goodbye to Kevin and Marcy. “And don’t forget, honey: I can come up and watch him next week if Marcy wants to go with you to that conference in New York.”

  “I’ll help,” Dodo added.

  My mother smiled at her sister, but I suspected she’d rather not have Dodo micromanaging her time with her grandson the way she’d micromanaged this little picnic. Their relationship made me smile, though, because like with so many sisters, despite the friction, they had each other’s backs.

  “Thanks. We’ll let you know.” Kevin nodded at Richard. “You ready?”

  Richard sighed. “I hate to go, but yes. I left my bag by the front door, so I’ll meet you by the car.”

  Kevin and his family disappeared into the kitchen as Richard turned to my mother. “Thank you for welcoming me to visit Willa during Erin’s birthday weekend. It’s been a real pleasure to meet you all, especially my beautiful little granddaughter.”

  Mom self-consciously toyed with her hair, not quite meeting Richard’s intense gaze. “Certainly. You’re part of the family now.”

  Aunt Dodo’s brows rose high on her large forehead as she stared into her cup of coffee.

  Richard smiled, while Erin shot me “a look” that wasn’t all that different from Dodo’s. But Richard Foster had been unobtrusive and kind, affirming my decision to include him in Willa’s life, so I was grateful that Mom hadn’t made him feel unwelcome.

  He turned to Erin. “Happy birthday, young lady. I’ll see you all again in the fall.”

  I thought to invite him to Thanksgiving but would wait to see how things played out in the coming weeks. One could push Madeline Turner only so far so fast, and I didn’t want to give Aunt Dodo a heart attack in this heat.