Moments We Forget

by Beth K. Vogt

  “He chopped down one of the trees in the clearing near here . . . kind of like he did . . .”

  “To make Pepper’s bench.” Johanna finished Payton’s sentence.

  “Yes. So part of each rocking chair has that similarity to the bench. Zach realizes we can’t get up here to Winter Park, to Pepper’s bench, that often, so he made us rocking chairs.”

  I moved first. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I want to try my chair out.”

  “I do, too.”

  Without thinking about it, we sat, maintaining our customary positions—Payton and Johanna bookending me.

  I settled into the chair, and for just a moment, the fleeting image of me, rocking a baby to sleep, interrupted the moment. But I blinked, pushing the thought away. I needed to stay here, in the present, with my sisters.

  “So . . . you’re married.” I broke the silence.

  “I am.” Payton’s words were carried on a sigh.

  “Are you happy?” It was a silly question, but I found myself asking it anyway.

  “I am that, too.”

  “In all this rush to get married in the past month, did you and Zach figure out where you’re living? I mean, Winter Park and North Denver . . .” Johanna, ever the practical one, had to have been mulling that question over for a while. With everything else Payton and Zach had to do to get ready for the wedding, she’d shown remarkable restraint not asking about their living arrangements.

  “Our own little long-distance dilemma, right?” Payton huffed a breath. “His boss is being gracious and letting Zach do more days remote so he can be at my place during the week, and we’ll be up here on the weekends.”

  “A bit of a hodgepodge living situation, then.” As Johanna rocked back and forth, pebbles and sticks crunched beneath her chair.

  “For now, yes. And . . . keep this between us, but Zach may decide to start his own business.”

  “That’s a big step.”

  “We know, and we’re still talking about it. So, early stages yet, but it’s something he’s always wanted to do. Until then, we’re just going to enjoy being married.”

  “It’s kind of amazing, isn’t it . . . you and Zach? I mean, almost eighteen months ago, when Zach showed up at Festivities . . . did you ever imagine . . . ?” My voice trailed off into the darkness.

  “No. Never. I didn’t even like the guy.” Payton laughed. “And now I couldn’t think of life without him. I think Pepper would like how things turned out.”

  “We’ve all changed so much, just in the last six months, haven’t we?” I tucked my hands in my coat pockets. “I’m unemployed. I don’t know if I’ll ever have children. Yet I know my husband better than ever before.”

  We allowed the conversation to lag for a moment. Despite the cold wrapping around us, none of us were ready to go back to the cabin. The warmth. All the people waiting for us.

  “What do you think Pepper would say if she were here?” Payton’s question didn’t surprise me—and I doubt it caught Johanna off guard, either.

  “In some ways, I feel closer to her out here.” I tilted my head back, watching the stars overhead that sparkled like a jeweler’s precious gems. “I suppose she’d be happy you’re wearing the necklace.”

  “I wonder if I would be—if she were here. If she were alive, the time capsule would still be closed. I might not be married to Zach . . .”

  “We can’t what-if our lives, Payton—always wondering what life might be like if things were different.”

  “Easier said than done some days, Jilly.”

  “Agreed.” Johanna sounded as if her thoughts were someplace else.

  I paused for a moment, debating on whether to speak out loud the thought lingering inside my mind. “I think . . . I think the last six months have been good for all of us.”

  Johanna stopped rocking. Shifted, half-turning to look at me. “Good for all of us? How can you say that with everything we’ve all dealt with, everything we’re still dealing with?”

  “I’m not forgetting any of it, believe me.” I wouldn’t go so far as to admit there were nights that I battled both hot flashes and unrelenting memories of all that had happened—and thoughts of all that might or might not happen in the future. “We even failed at the book club, if we’re going to be technical about it. But we didn’t give up on each other . . . and that’s something, isn’t it?”

  “It is.” Payton’s voice was a whisper.

  “I hadn’t considered that.” Johanna’s voice carried into the night.

  “Oh, we’re still the Thatcher sisters—minus one. And we all still tend to take our assigned places—oldest, middle, youngest. We spark off each other, like we always have.”

  “And like we always will.” Johanna stated the truth like the fact it was.

  “But so far, we haven’t quit on each other.”

  Johanna gave a small laugh. “We haven’t . . . so far.”

  “That’s why I wanted to come here, just the three of us.” Payton spoke up. “Last year? It was like we declared some kind of truce in Pepper’s memory after all that stuff happened. I’m hoping that we can do better in the future. Maybe . . . maybe we’ve learned to trust each other a little more.”

  “I think we know each other better.” I reached out my hands to Johanna and Payton.

  “Agreed.” Johanna squeezed my hand.

  “I don’t know what’s up ahead for any of us.” Payton continued. “But right this minute—even knowing we don’t agree on everything and that we won’t always understand each other—can’t we just be thankful we’re sisters? Not for Pepper’s sake—although I think she’d agree with me if she were still alive—but for our sakes.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes.”

  The winter air frosted our words. We held on to one another, refusing to let go.

  I struggled to put my thoughts in order. “It’s funny . . . To get here, to this moment, it’s taken an odd mix of forgetting and remembering, hasn’t it?”

  “Forgetting and remembering . . . is that how we manage to be sisters?” Johanna seemed skeptical about my theory.

  “Pepper would say there are moments to remember . . . and yet, you’re right, Jilly. There are moments to forget, too.” Payton’s voice linked us all together.

  “What’s one thing you’re going to remember, Joey?”

  “Me? I’m going to remember how things didn’t go like I planned, no matter how much I tried to control them . . . and I’m going to remember that you two stood by me.”

  “I would have to say that I’ll remember that, too.” Payton spoke next.

  “That would make three of us.” My words rounded out our agreement.

  “Look at that.” Johanna’s words seemed woven with a mixture of laughter and tears. “The Thatcher sisters have found common ground again.”

  I held on to my sisters’ hands. “We have at that—and it’s a good place to be.”

  THE WHAT-IFS TAUNTED ME every time I visited my parents, but any hope of beginning again had vanished years ago—if there’d ever been one.

  What would have happened if my parents had gone through with selling the house in Colorado Springs my sisters and I had grown up in? If they’d labeled and taped up all the boxes—the clothes, the books, the dishes, the photographs, the awards, and the trophies—and unpacked them in a different house?

  A change of location. A chance to start over.

  But unexpected loss held my parents captive.

  For the most part, our family seemed unchanged. The kitchen clock—a porcelain plate decorated with bright red-and-yellow flowers but lacking any numerals to designate the passing of time—hung in the same place it had since a dozen Mother’s Days ago. The same white wooden shutters hid the bay windows in the breakfast nook. The same worn round table in the middle, surrounded by four chairs adorned with nondescript blue cushions our mother changed out every few years—whenever Johanna reminded her to do so.

  I pushed the Start button
on the once-new dishwasher. My parents had installed it at the Realtor’s recommendation when they’d planned to move into the larger house that offered a coveted view of Pikes Peak.

  Time to focus on the cheesecakes—the engagement party dessert finale. The hum of the dishwasher blended with garbled conversation as the door between the kitchen and dining room opened, the sound of Jillian’s fiancé’s booming laughter sneaking in. Geoff and his corny jokes.

  “Just getting the dessert, Kim—”

  “I’m not your timekeeper, little sister.” Johanna’s no-nonsense voice interrupted my concentration.

  I stiffened, gripping the handles of the fridge. Why hadn’t I posted a Do Not Enter sign on the door? Maybe I should have caved to Nash’s insistence to attend the party, even though tonight was more work than play for me. Why not have my boyfriend act as bouncer outside the kitchen? Flex his muscles and run interference?

  I had no time for my oldest sister. Any minute now, Kimberlee would return from setting up the silver carafes of coffee and hot water for tea, along with cream, sugar, spoons, and other necessities. She’d expect the trio of cheesecakes to be arranged on their individual stands—my job tonight, since we’d only had the caterers deliver the food for such a small gathering.

  “Do you need something, Johanna?” I pulled the first cheesecake from the fridge, my mouth watering at the thought of key lime and dollops of whipped cream. Being the party planner for tonight meant I’d had no chance to indulge in the hors d’oeuvres or cocktails, despite this being my other sister’s engagement party. And vegan or not, I could appreciate a decadent dessert—and postpone interacting with Johanna.

  “You and Kimberlee are pretty good at this event-planning business.” Johanna leaned against the kitchen counter.

  “Mom and Jillian seem happy. That’s the important thing.” I settled the cheesecake on its stand, the plastic wrap clinging to my fingers as I uncovered it. “It’s all about finding out what people want and then making it happen.”

  “Festivities is making enough to pay the bills, apparently.”

  “Yes.”

  Not that I was going to produce an Excel spreadsheet of our accounts payable and receivable for my oldest sister.

  “You two didn’t charge Mom and Dad full price—”

  “Really, Johanna?” Not sparing my sister a glance, I shoved the fridge door closed with my hip, a turtle cheesecake balanced in my hands.

  “Oh, don’t get in a huff, Payton. Honestly, how do you manage your customers if you’re so touchy?”

  And this . . . this was yet another reason why I didn’t come home unless absolutely necessary. I concentrated on transporting the second cheesecake from the fridge to the island, refusing to square off with my sister. Best to change the subject and prep the desserts.

  “Jillian and Geoff seem perfect for one another, don’t they?”

  Johanna took the bait. “Of course they do. They enjoy the same foods. The same movies. He makes her laugh. They’re content with a typical version of happily ever after.”

  And now my question had set Johanna’s sights on Jillian. Should I ignore the unspoken criticism or not? “You don’t approve of Geoff?”

  “I wouldn’t marry him. They remind me of that old nursery rhyme. ‘Jack Sprat could eat no fat, his wife could eat no lean . . .’”

  “And I suppose one of the reasons you’re marrying Beckett is because you make such a good-looking couple?”

  “You’ve got to admit he’s easy on the eyes.”

  Easy on the eyes? Who said stuff like that anymore? “Not that he’s around very often for anyone to get a look at him.”

  “If I don’t mind being in a long-distance relationship, I don’t see why you should be so critical.” Johanna’s stilettos tapped a sharp staccato on the wood floor, her platinum-blonde hair caught up in a tight ponytail that swished down between her shoulder blades.

  “I’m not criticizing. Just mentioning that Beckett plays the role of the Invisible Man quite well.”

  “You’re almost as funny as Geoff.” Ice frosted Johanna’s words.

  Time to change the subject again unless I wanted a full-blown argument with one sister during my other sister’s party. Not that I could think of a topic Johanna and I agreed on. “Isn’t it odd? You and Beckett have been engaged for over two years now. Shouldn’t we be planning your wedding so Jillian and Geoff don’t beat you two down the aisle?”

  “It’s not a race. Beckett’s stationed in Wyoming and I don’t want to give up my job to move there—”

  “Did I know Beckett was in Wyoming?”

  “Honestly, Payton, he’s been there for a year.” Johanna sniffed. “But then, it’s not like we chat every other day, is it? You and Pepper were the close ones—”

  Heat flushed my neck. My face. “There’s no need to bring Pepper into the conversation, is there?”

  “Why, after all this time, are you still so sensitive about talking about her?”

  “I’m not sensitive. I just don’t see why you had to mention Pepper when we were talking about you and Beckett—”

  The sound of voices rose once again as the kitchen door opened. Poor Kimberlee. She didn’t know she’d have to assume Jillian’s usual position as the neutral zone between Johanna and me.

  “Have you seen Jillian?”

  Not Kimberlee. Mom, who was also an expert human buffer.

  “Isn’t she with Geoff?” I removed the cling wrap from the cheesecake.

  “She was a few moments ago, but now I can’t find her.” Mom circled the island as if she expected to find her middle daughter crouching down hiding from her. “Isn’t it almost time for dessert? And aren’t we supposed to open gifts after that? They certainly received a lot of presents, didn’t they?”

  “Yes. It’s a great turnout.” If only the kitchen didn’t feel like a revolving three-ring circus. How would Johanna like it if our family showed up at the hospital pharmacy where she was in charge?

  Before I could say anything else, Kimberlee, the one person I’d been waiting for, joined the crowd. “Are we all set in here, Payton?”

  “Just about.” I swallowed back the words “if people would stay out of my kitchen.” This wasn’t my kitchen. And family or not, Mom was a client, at least for tonight, and needed to be treated like one. And I’d been dealing with Johanna for years. If I wanted tonight to be a success, the less said, the better.

  “Mom, why don’t you and Johanna join the guests?” I removed the classic cheesecake from the fridge. “I’ll find Jillian while Kimberlee makes the announcement about dessert and Jillian and Geoff opening their gifts.”

  As Johanna and Mom left, I faced my business partner, shook my head, and sighed. “Family. And before that, a longtime family friend wandered in, asking for the crab dip recipe.”

  “It comes with working for relatives.” Kimberlee took the cheesecake from me, the eclectic assortment of rings on her fingers sparkling under the kitchen lights. “But honestly, everything has gone beautifully. There’s hardly any food left.”

  “That’s because I know how to plan portions.”

  “It’s because we know how to throw a good party.”

  “Well, let’s keep things going and get this dessert set up.”

  Once the trio of cheesecakes was arranged on the table in my parents’ dining room, I nodded to Kimberlee. “I’ve got to go find our bride-to-be.”

  “No problem. I can handle this.” Kimberlee smoothed a wrinkle from the white tablecloth and repositioned the vase filled with bright-red poppies, my mother’s favorite flowers.

  “It’s not like she wandered far. She’s probably in the bathroom touching up her makeup.”

  Not that Jillian was a “refresh her makeup” kind of gal. Mascara and a little bit of basic eyeliner was her usual routine. Lipstick was reserved for fancier affairs. She’d probably be cajoled by the photographer into wearing some on her wedding day.

  The upstairs bathroom was empty, lit only
by the flickering flame of a cinnamon-scented candle. Where could Jillian be? A thin band of light shone out from beneath the door of Johanna and Jillian’s former bedroom at the far end of the darkened hallway. Why would my sister be in there? As I moved past my old bedroom, my fingertips brushed the doorknob for a second. I pulled my hand away, balling my fingers into a fist.

  I paused outside the bedroom and then rapped my knuckles against the door. “Jillian?”

  Nothing . . . and then, “Payton? Do you need me for something?”

  Just for her party. I eased the door open, stepping inside. “What are you doing up here? It’s time to open your gifts.”

  What had once been Johanna and Jillian’s room was now a generic guest room. At the moment, the only light came from the slender glass lamp on the bedside table. My sisters’ beds had been replaced by a single larger bed covered in a gray-and-white paisley comforter. An idyllic outdoor scene adorned the wall across from the dark oak dresser.

  Jillian, who’d been hunched over on the corner of the bed, straightened her shoulders. “I, um, got a phone call and decided to take it in here away from all the noise.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes. Absolutely.” Jillian’s smile seemed to wobble for the briefest second. “Did you need me for something?”

  “Your engagement party? It’s time to dismantle that Jenga tower of gifts in the family room.” I shook my head. “Tsk. And after all the hard work I put in arranging it.”

  “Right.” Jillian smoothed her yellow empire-waist sundress down over her hips. “It’s been a wonderful party, Payton.”

  “Thank you for saying so, but it’s not over yet.” I touched Jillian’s shoulder. “You’re really okay?”

  She nodded so that the ends of her hair brushed against the back of my hand. “Yes. Nothing that won’t wait until Monday.”

  I didn’t know why I’d asked. It wasn’t like Jillian would confide in me. We weren’t the “Will you keep a secret?” kind of sisters. “All right then. Why don’t you go find Geoff and I’ll bring you both some dessert? Do you want key lime, classic, or turtle cheesecake?”

  Now it was my sister’s turn to shake her head. “I should skip it altogether. We’re going wedding dress shopping soon enough, and I know I’m going to look awful—”