They all smiled and nodded in her direction.
“Then we have time for your gift,” Paige said to DeeAnn in an excited, singsong voice.
“Gift? I thought the lunch was my gift,” DeeAnn said. But her blue eyes widened as wrapped gifts were laid on the table. “Oh my! Can I open them?”
“Why not?” Sheila said.
DeeAnn opened the largest box first. It was an electronic cutting system.
“Oh! I’ve wanted one of these for years!” DeeAnn squealed.
“‘It cuts paper, vinyl, cardstock, fabric, heat transfer material, and so much more,’” Vera read from the box. “And it’s always fun to bring one of these along to a crop to share with your friends.”
“Hmm. I don’t see that anywhere on here,” DeeAnn said and laughed.
“I think you should open this,” Paige said, sliding one of the smaller boxes across the table.
“How sweet!” DeeAnn said when she opened the gift from Paige. It was template cartridges to go with the new cutting system. This one included strawberries of all shapes and sizes—her friends knew how much she loved strawberries, so much so that she had decorated her kitchen with a strawberry theme.
DeeAnn opened the rest of her gifts—all of them were cartridges to go with her new “toy.” One offered baked goods—pies, cakes, cookies galore! Another one was basic shapes that she could use as frames for photos, for journaling, or for decorating a page. She was beyond thrilled; she was inspired and could not wait to get home and create a new page or two.
Just then, Judy came back to their table and started to hand them menus. “Hello, ladies,” she said.
“I don’t need a menu,” Annie said. “I know what I want.”
“How about the rest of you?” Judy asked, taking back Annie’s menu.
The group had already decided what pie they wanted. Vera was last to order.
“I’ll have a slice of strawberry rhubarb,” she said.
“Isn’t that something?” the waitress said. “Your mama ordered that.”
“What? When?” Vera squealed.
“Oh, I guess it was a couple of days ago. Um, maybe last week. I’ve been working so hard that I—”
“My mother is in France,” Vera said.
Judy looked at her and shrugged. “I could have sworn it was her. Sorry. Your pie will be a few minutes.” She walked away.
The women sat in stunned silence.
“That old bat is back from France,” Sheila finally said.
“I don’t understand,” Vera said.
“She’s up to something,” Sheila said. “But what?”
“Why wouldn’t she be at home?” Annie said. “This doesn’t make sense. After a long trip overseas, I’d want to come directly home.”
Vera’s face hardened. Her chin jutted out.
Sheila often wondered about Beatrice, but this took the cake—or the pie, as it were. Why would Bea come home and not see her daughter? Poor Vera had been worried and missing her mother the whole time she was in France. This had to hurt.
The server brought their slices of pie to them. Nobody had gotten the same flavor. DeeAnn had selected the coconut cream, Annie the chocolate, Sheila the peanut butter, and Paige had ordered apple with cinnamon ice cream.
Sheila sat back in the booth and enjoyed the spectacle of Pamela’s Pie Palace, with its black and white tile floor and red booths, each with a little jukebox on the table. Sheila busied herself with digging some quarters out of her change purse and sorting through the music on the jukebox. She couldn’t look at Vera’s sullen face anymore.
She slipped a quarter in and selected “Hound Dog” by Elvis Presley, hoping to cheer Vera up. She always responded to music.
“Sweet Jesus,” Paige said, rolling her eyes. “This is extraordinary pie.”
“Humph,” DeeAnn said and then took a bite of her coconut cream, shaking her head. “Fabulous.”
Pamela herself came up to their table. “Why hello, ladies,” she said. “I understand it’s your birthday. The pie is on me.”
“Why, thanks so much,” DeeAnn said. “Excellent pie, by the way. As usual.”
“Means a lot to me coming from you,” she said. Pamela was a looker, with long blond hair, huge doe-like brown eyes, and a figure straight out of a 1940s pinup calendar. “So Paige, I’m very excited to talk with Randy.”
Paige’s face reddened as her friends all looked at her. She brought her napkin to her mouth and placed it back in her lap. “Randy’s excited too,” she said. “He said you’re expanding. Sounds like quite an opportunity.”
“We’ve been thinking about it for a long time,” Pamela said. “We’d like to do a line of pastries, but I don’t have time. Pie keeps me hopping.”
“I hear ya,” DeeAnn managed to say. She was obviously annoyed. The pitch in her voice and the pursed lips were a dead giveaway.
Oh boy, Sheila thought. Paige didn’t tell DeeAnn about this.
After Pamela left the table, DeeAnn glared at Paige.
“Wait minute,” Paige said. “I was going to tell you. I just found out about it myself.”
“Your son is going to work for Pamela when one of your best friends owns a bakery in town?” DeeAnn said.
“I don’t see a problem,” Annie said. “C’mon. If you want to hire him, make him an offer. Otherwise, what’s the problem?”
Annie didn’t know that DeeAnn had offered him work many times through the years. Randy hadn’t been interested in living in Cumberland Creek until now.
Paige cleared her throat. “DeeAnn, it’s not personal. He was involved with a man then who would not leave the city. He wants to start anew. Pamela called him and so he’s going to talk with her.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” Vera said, after swallowing the last bite of her pie. “He’d be close to home and you’d see him more and maybe he and Earl would get closer. I don’t think it would be a good idea for him to work for you, DeeAnn, simply because of your friendship with Paige. It could get weird. What if it didn’t work out?”
DeeAnn went back to concentrating on what was on her fork—a smear of coconut cream with meringue. “Well, that’s a good way of looking at it.”
When Judy came to fill up their coffee cups and clear away the plates that were empty, Vera asked her to think hard about when she had seen her mother.
“I think it was two days ago,” Judy said.
“How did she look?”
“She looked like she always does,” she said. “She and Jon sat right there.” She pointed to another booth. ”In one seat together, like a couple of lovebirds. It was very cute.”
That did not sound like Beatrice.
“Was there anything out of the ordinary about them that you can think of?” Vera asked after a moment.
“No. They had some kind of book that they were looking at while they ate their pie,” she said. “Now, you ladies have a good day.” And with that, she was gone.
Paige mulled over Vera’s situation with Beatrice. Imagine that her mother had been gone for a few weeks and not even bothered to touch base with Vera when she came back to the States. It was perplexing. But then again, Beatrice could be the most confounding person on the planet. Usually a person knew where they stood with her though. This sneaking around was not her normal way.
“Earl, do you really think you saw Bea and Jon the other day?” she asked while they were lying in bed with their books.
“I told you that it really looked like them,” he said. “But you said it couldn’t be them.”
She told him what she’d learned today.
“That woman has always been a little strange, if you ask me,” he said, setting his book on the nightstand and taking his glasses off.
“What were they doing in the drugstore?” she asked.
“They were getting medicine. They were in line at the pharmacy,” he said, after a moment.
“Medicine?” Paige thought a moment. She didn’t know if Beatrice or Jon were on
any medication. She’d ask Vera tomorrow and tell her what Earl had said. It might help. She went back to reading her historical romance novel. As her mind relaxed into the story, a thought occurred to her. Beatrice on medication? What if she was on some new medicine that confused her and she and Jon were wandering around somewhere lost? Lord knew Jon didn’t know his way around—especially in the mountains, where Beatrice had grown up. If they were out there, goodness knew what could happen to them.
Her heart started to race and she set down her book, sitting up in bed. Earl snored beside her. She had to call Vera, that’s all there was to it. Time might be of the essence.
She left the bedroom and went downstairs and dialed Vera.
“Hello?” Vera said into the phone. She sounded as if she had been sleeping.
“I’m sorry if I woke you,” Paige said. “But I thought you’d want to know this. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I wanted to talk with Earl again.”
Then she told Vera what Earl had said. The phone was deadly quiet.
“Vera?”
“I’m trying to think,” she said. “Jon takes blood pressure medicine. And something else. I can’t remember what it is. But I thought he refilled all that before they went traveling.”
“Your mom doesn’t take anything?”
“Nope. She’s as healthy as a horse. She takes vitamins and supplements, things like that,” Vera said and paused.
“What?” Paige said, urging Vera on.
“I just can’t get over the fact that my mom is back in Cumberland Creek and hasn’t come home,” Vera said. “What is she up to? Where is she staying? Is she okay?”
“She must be okay,” Paige said. “People keep seeing her around. But I agree it’s odd. Could she be confused?”
Vera sighed. “She is eighty-four years old, but she seems so sharp. She’s a little forgetful sometimes. But so am I.”
“Did you call the airline yet?”
“I tried. I couldn’t get a live person, just a recording,” she replied. “I’ll try again tomorrow. Good night, Paige.”
“Good night,” she replied.
Vera’s daughter, Elizabeth, had been sleeping for a few hours. Vera found this time of night most relaxing. She tried to watch a little TV and couldn’t find a thing that she wanted to bother with. She’d decided to grab a magazine and take it to bed with her when her cell phone rang again. It was Eric. Oh no.
She hadn’t been hiding from him. Not exactly.
“Hey, babe,” he said. “How are you? I haven’t heard from you in a while.” His voice comforted her.
“I’ve been busy with Elizabeth and we took DeeAnn to Charlottesville for lunch for her birthday,” Vera said.
“I miss you. It makes being on call even worse,” he said.
“I miss you, too. Thursday will be here before you know it.”
“Early day tomorrow?”
“Yes, I need to get the studio’s taxes done and I have a full afternoon and evening of classes,” she said. “But listen to this.”
She then explained how people had been saying they’d seen her mother—at the Pie Palace, walking around town, and at the drugstore.
“What do you make of it?” she asked him when she was done.
“Are they certain it’s Beatrice?”
“They seem to be.”
He was silent.
“Eric?”
“I’m confused,” he said. “I don’t know what to say.”
“I’m not sure what to do.”
“Nothing you can do, I suppose. She’ll come home eventually. In the meantime, my beeper is going off. I have to run. Love you.”
“Love you, too,” Vera said, her heart spinning. It was true that she loved him. But did she want to marry him? After being married for over twenty years, and being extremely disappointed, she wasn’t sure she could do it again. But Eric was a different man from her ex-husband.
She climbed up the stairs to her room, looked in on Elizabeth first, with Junie Bee cuddled up next to her. She then padded to her room and lay down in her bed. This had always been her room, even as a child. She liked it here. But maybe it was time to move out and try it again on her own—just she, Elizabeth, and Junie Bee. She grimaced—the last time she had tried to strike out on her own, it had not ended well.
Vera sunk into her bed and pulled the covers around her and closed her eyes. As she slipped into the place between sleep and awake, a strange beeping noise awakened her. Maybe she was dreaming? There it was again. Hmmm. She opened her eyes. What was that noise?
Was it one of Elizabeth’s battery-operated toys? That had happened one night a few weeks back. The weirdest noise had woken up everybody in the house. Vera rolled over—the noise had stopped.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Vera arose out of the warm bed. Damn.
Beeeeep.
She opened her bedroom door and the noise became louder.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
It was coming from her mother’s room.
Nightlights now lit the long hallways of the house, so Vera easily found her way, feeling a little like she was invading her mother’s privacy as she opened the door and turned on the bedroom light. Vera hadn’t been in her mother’s room since she’d left for France.
There, on her mother’s bed, sat her luggage. On top of it sat Beatrice’s cell phone, the beeping indicating that the battery was about to die.
Beatrice’s suitcase? Her cell phone? Where on earth was Beatrice?
Vera opened the suitcase and saw her mother’s usual traveling clothes, plus a few wrapped gifts. One was for Lizzie, one for her, and one for Eric. As if gifts were going to soften the blow of this!
A tear stung Vera’s eye. Her mother was home and she hadn’t even bothered to call or tell her she was home. Talk about rejection!
Vera left the room in a huff and stomped back into her own room. She fell into her bed in a fit of tears.
When she woke up the next morning, Elizabeth was curled up next to her and Junie Bee was sitting on her chest, kneading her claws in the blanket, purring, and looking straight into Vera’s face. How long had the cat been staring at her like that?
She kissed Lizzie and gently pushed the cat off her. She glanced at the clock—still early enough to make Lizzie a good breakfast before she went off to preschool.
Standing in her mother’s kitchen, scrambling eggs, Vera tried not to panic. She also tried not to hold this disappearance of Beatrice’s against her. Certainly there was a logical explanation. As she poured the eggs into the cast iron skillet, a crashing noise erupted behind her and she turned to see Junie Bee splayed on the floor with a number of refrigerator magnets and papers. Vera picked it all up and set everything on the counter, not willing to give up her meditative stance in front of the scrambling eggs.
After Vera dropped Lizzie off at preschool and went to her dance studio, her cell phone rang.
“Hey Vera,” Annie said. “I was wondering if you had any luck with the airlines.”
“I tried calling them back today,” Vera said. “But I couldn’t get past the recording.”
“Save your breath,” Annie said. “I found out that they won’t give flight information anymore unless it’s a family emergency or if it’s a cop or lawyer that needs to know. Sometimes even they need a court order.”
Vera sighed. “Where could they be? And should I be worried? I mean, I go back and forth between being worried and being seriously annoyed with my mother. Why would she be back in the States and not come back to her home?”
“I’m worried, too,” Annie said. “It doesn’t seem like her at all. Unless she’s up to something.”
“Something like what?” Vera said, after hesitating.
“Something big, though I have no idea what.”
“I keep thinking about that older couple in the papers a few years ago, you know the one? They decided to drive off a cliff together because they’d had enough and wanted to be together forever,” Vera s
aid. “You know, that band Fastball released a song about another couple like that. Remember? What was it called? ‘The Way,’ that’s it. I read an interview that the band came up with the idea for the song after reading about the disappearance of an older married couple who left home to go to a festival. They were discovered two weeks later, dead, at the bottom of a ravine hundreds of miles away from where they were supposed to be.” She took a deep breath.
Annie laughed. “I don’t see your mother as being ready to shuffle off anytime soon, do you? Nor do I see them both being confused like that, do you?”
“No, but something must have happened in France. What if Jon’s doctor told him he only had a few months to live or something?”
“Calm down, Vera,” Annie said. “I’m sure it’s all going to be revealed soon.”
But even as Vera hung up the phone, she wasn’t so sure that her mother wasn’t in trouble somewhere, needing help.
She glanced over at the calendar—tomorrow was the date Beatrice and Jon were scheduled to arrive home. At least officially. She was suddenly struck with an idea. She had all of her mother’s flight information—why didn’t she call and pretend to be her to check on the flight in an effort to track her steps? Maybe the airlines could tell her something useful.
Vera picked up her cell phone and dialed the number of the airline. She pressed this button, then the next, prompted by the recording. Then it asked for her confirmation number, which was on the itinerary stuck to the fridge. Feeling very efficient and impressed with herself, she dialed in the number.
“That number is not valid,” came the recorded voice. “Try again, or dial zero for assistance.”
Vera tried again and received the same recording. She pressed zero and was placed on hold with some strange music playing in her ear.
“Flight cancellations,” a voice said. “How can I help you?”
A live person!
“I’m checking on my flight. Flight number 741,” Vera said.
“Just a moment please,” the voice said.
“What is your full name and confirmation number please?” the voice came back on after a few minutes.
Vera told her.
“I’m sorry that reservation has been cancelled. Did you not cancel your flight?”
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