The Soul Believes It

by Julie Allan

  Lizzie had developed the routine of reading an entry or two every afternoon with her tea, then reflecting on her mother’s words. She was finally sleeping through the night again, her grief settling into the new reality, life without their friend Jim. The holiday season had begun, bringing joy back into focus. Even M.A. was brighter as she planned Christmas treasures for her grandchildren.

  As the wedding came closer, there were parties to attend celebrating the couple, and Lizzie was savoring the role of mother of the bride. Life moved on and Lizzie knew from experience, going along with it was the best course for the grieving.

  The steam rose from her tea cup, the fragrant Earl Grey wrapping her soul in comfort. She settled in and opened Caroline’s diary to the dog-eared page from yesterday. She turned the page and saw the date; the last entry Caroline had written.

  Lizzie closed her eyes and pictured Caroline sitting at the French writing table she had in her art studio, apron on over one of her classic sheath dresses. Her pearls were hanging away from her chest as she leaned over the diary, making her entry. I wonder if she had any sense it would be her last?

  Lizzie opened her eyes and took a sip of her tea. She traced her fingers over the words. She was hesitant to read, it would bring the diary to an end and what will it reveal about Caroline’s frame of mind the day she died?

  What a delightful morning Lizzie and I had with Dorothy. We picked strawberries out on John’s Island. Although I think that Lizzie ate more than she picked. She is so excited to be spending the night at Dorothy and George’s house. Bobby and I are going to a baseball game, and I am so looking forward to some fun with him. He has been working so hard lately. I can’t wait to tell him one of my paintings sold for $50. I can’t imagine life getting any better than it already is. I’m overcome with how blessed I am, especially after so much sadness. I need to go freshen up before Bobby gets home. I’llfinish this tomorrow.

  Maybe she did sense something, she certainly reflected on her life more than she did in previous entries. Lizzie held the journal to her heart. Every day is a gift and we should be grateful for it.

  Caroline had thought about her past on her last day, and Lizzie found that pleasing, her mother had overcome the pain and sorrow and had rebuilt her life. She died content and who could wish for more than that?

  The waitress poured the wine, leaving the bottle on the table. Amy lifted her glass. “To M.A., our dearest friend.”

  Lizzie and M.A. raised their glasses and clinked.

  “I’m glad you came out with us,” Lizzie added.

  “I am too, although I had my doubts. Do you know a woman from my church gave me a disapproving look when we ran into each other outside my yoga studio?”

  Amy poured a little more wine in each of their glasses. “Some people are so judgmental. Grieving widows need to exercise too, I would say more so.”

  Lizzie nodded. “Don’t let that bother you. There is nothing wrong with you doing everyday things. Jim would be furious if he thought you were sitting around in a dark room, wearing black and wringing your hands.”

  M.A. laughed, “That is so true. I’m not exactly the woe is me type anyway, but I do miss him horribly. I think my heart will never stop aching, especially at night.”

  Amy moved her glass so the waitress could set down her salad. “So where are you going to spend Christmas?”

  “Well, the girls and I decided we were going to rent a cabin in the mountains, and I’m going to drive my parents up as well. Jim’s parents are going to his sister Louise’s house.”

  Lizzie nodded. “A new tradition is a good idea.”

  “I just know I can’t do it up at the house as the grandkids would expect. It would be too hard without Jim.”

  The waitress cleared away the dinner plates, and Lizzie reached into her bag, pulling out a small box, wrapped in silver paper and tied with a generous purple bow. She pushed it across the table to M.A.”

  “Oh, I thought we weren’t going to worry about the exchange this year!”

  Amy reached over and patted her hand. “We’re not, you have enough on your plate, and Lizzie and I don’t need a thing, but we wanted to give you something special this year.”

  M.A. untied the ribbon and carefully pulled off the paper. She lifted the lid of the box and held up the sterling silver bracelet. Dangling from it was an angel engraved with a J. and some slides with the birthstones of M.A. and Jim’s daughters. There was also a sand dollar with an A and a starfish with an L, and finally, a heart with the words Love is Forever. Along the smooth metal of the bracelet the words, The Soul Believes It was engraved.

  Tears sprang to M.A.’s eyes, and she opened the clasp to put it on her wrist. “I don’t think I’ll ever take this off!”

  Lizzie felt her own tears well. “We love you, and when you feel the pain is overwhelming, we want you to believe in the depths of your soul how loved you are, by us, Scott, Bennett, your family. Let that love carry you through the dark moments.”

  M.A. nodded through the tears. “I will.”

  This anniversary was low-key compared to previous ones. Lizzie and Bennett had always made their anniversary a big deal, and that was easy to do since they shared it with New Year’s Eve. This year an evening at home was all either one of them was up to. Dot and Hudson were in Pensacola for the New Year with his parents and plenty of parties with relatives and friends.

  Sawyer had gone with a group to Times Square in New York, leaving them with an empty nest. Bennett prepared steamed oysters for their appetizer and Lizzie made soul-warming shrimp and grits. Bennett built a fire in the fire pit, and they bundled up to enjoy s’mores and snuggles under the starlit sky.

  Lizzie snuggled a little deeper into Bennett’s arms. “I feel a bit guilty, here we are enjoying our anniversary and M.A. has no more.”

  “She might re-marry.”

  Lizzie sat up and thumped Bennett on the chest, “How can you say that? You were Jim’s best friend!”

  Bennett cupped Lizzie’s face in his hands. “Sweetheart, that’s exactly why I can say that. Jim, more than anyone, would want M.A. to be happy and if that meant her re-marrying, he would be all for it.”

  Lizzie reached up and touched Bennett’s cheek. “My wise husband. I too want M.A. to be happy, I just can’t imagine her getting re-married.” She paused and leaned in for a kiss. “You know I would want you to be happy . . . I mean if anything were to happen to me.”

  Bennett laughed. “I love you for saying that, but you know as well as I do you are the only one for me, you have been since we were in Kindergarten and you always will be.”

  Lizzie kissed Bennett again. “I know it, and despite my crooked path to our happily ever after, you truly are the only one for me.”

  Bennett pulled Lizzie in tight. “I think we just renewed our vows.”

  They sat there in the glow of the embers, the flames dancing towards the stars. Before long, they could see fireworks over the harbor intermittent at first and building as the clock struck midnight. Their marriage was one year past their silver anniversary. Lizzie dared to hope for a golden celebration. She knew M.A. had wished for the same. If her parents had lived, they would be celebrating their fifty-seventh this year. Dot and Hudson, just starting out danced across her mind, she could only pray they would build a marriage that would keep them together for as many years. I want Dot to be as happy as I am.

  They let the fire die down into embers, then Bennett pulled Lizzie to her feet and into the house where they could make some fire of their own.

  The phone rang, distracting Lizzie from the guest list for the wedding. It was serene Oaks. Aunt Beverley had suffered a fatal stoke. According to Bella, it had been expected by her physician. Lizzie sat with a thud, another punch to the gut. I thought we still had time! Lizzie barely had the presence of mind to ask if she needed to come right away. Bella had assured her anytime in the next few days would be fine. Aunt Beverley had left meticulous instructions for the event of her death.
Even her funeral was planned down to the last detail. Lizzie was needed to help carry out her wishes and to meet with Aunt Beverley’s attorney.

  She called Bennett, Dot, and Sawyer to tell them the news. In the morning, she would make another trip south.

  Lizzie grabbed her jacket and headed for the dock. Sadie and Tucker, confused at being left behind pressed their noses against the glass in the back door. Bennett had just finished laying the new planks. The fresh wood was un-weathered, much like her relationship with Aunt Beverley. Their bond was of a new construction, yet the common link of Caroline had hastened the patina. Great Aunt and Niece had begun to love each other, not an obligation of familial bonds, but a true respect for the other.

  The January wind was bitter, and even the bright sun could not warm her. The chop of the waves mimicked the churn in her stomach. She breathed in deeply, the sting of the cold air assaulting her lungs. How is it that every time we lose someone, the scabs of old losses fall away and the wounds mingle? Do we ever truly heal?

  The layer of grief over grief felt suffocating. Her grief for Aunt Beverley was much different from that for Jim. Jim had known her grade school, and Aunt Beverley had only been a part of her life for a few months. Yet, she was family, the last tie to her mother. It was because of Aunt Beverley’s sharing that she had gotten to know her mother—the real Caroline.

  The staff at Serene Oaks welcomed Lizzie with a card signed by all the staff. So many had come to love Aunt Beverley. Bella took her down to Aunt Beverley’s suite and went off to fetch a pot of tea.

  Lizzie sat in the silence. The room still full of Aunt Beverley’s treasured European pieces had lost its luster without the jewel in the crown holding court. Bella had left Lizzie with an envelope, her name scrawled across the front. So many surprises had come in letter form, she was hesitant to open it. She could hear Aunt Beverley goading her to buck up, if, at her age, she had taken the time to write a letter, then by gum, Lizzie should have the courage to read it. Lizzie cracked a smile and tore into it.

  My dear grand-niece Lizzie,

  This old gal has been tickled to get to know you. It has been a joy to learn about you and your family. I so loved your mother. I will always regret that I didn’t do more for her, or reach out to you. However, if you’re reading this I have gone on, and I hope I have been reunited with Caroline as well as my dear Beau. I can’t wait to tell her all about you! I know you have been bitterly disappointed in your grandparents, although you have been gracious enough to not express that with me. I do so love my sister, and I can offer no reasonable excuse for her choices. Only that like so many of us, we do the best we can, often failing spectacularly. I know you to be a woman of faith, through God’s grace I implore you to forgive. You have so much of Caroline in you and I saw it in Dot as well. We haveonly know each other a short time, but I truly love you. If you ever find your sister, I hope you will tell her all about me. Live every day like you mean it dear, then you won’t have the regrets that I do.

  Love your old eccentric Great Aunt,

  Beverley

  Lizzie ran her fingers over the words as if Aunt Beverley’s hand could reach from the page to touch her own. I have found a way to forgive.

  The attorney arrived thirty minutes later to share the legal side of things and how Lizzie could fulfill her Aunt’s last wishes. Aunt Beverley had left a nice cash sum for both Dot and Sawyer. She had set up a fund to pay for seniors of lesser means to come and live out their twilight years at Serene Oaks. She also left many of her furnishings to the facility. She left one of her retirement account balances to Bella. The rest of the money was spread around to the church and her pet charities. She left Lizzie her jewelry and the family silver.

  Aunt Beverley did not want a funeral. Instead, she had arranged for a big band to perform for the residents of Serene Oaks with a catered cocktail hour. She had arranged to be cremated and have her urn interred with her husband’s in a columbarium.

  Lizzie smiled and nodded as the attorney finished. “She’s going out in grand style, just like she lived.”

  Lizzie signed a document confirming her receipt of the silver and jewelry, then made her goodbye to Bella and the staff. Once more in the car, she sped towards home.

  Lizzie and Dot sat on Lizzie’s bed exploring Aunt Beverley’s jewelry box. “This sapphire ring could be your something borrowed and blue. What do you think?”

  Dot slipped it on her finger. “It fits well. I already decided I wanted to wear the pearls that Aunt Beverley gave me last summer.”

  “I’d give you the ring, but I kind of thought if I ever get to meet my sister, I could give her the sapphire set.”

  The box was full of interesting pieces. Lizzie lifted out an intricately carved jade medallion on a gold chain. “I love this!”

  “I’m not surprised; it’s green like your emeralds.” Dot picked up an art deco influenced bracelet. It was onyx and filigreed silver.

  Lizzie put the medallion on and walked over to the mirror to see the effect. “You can take that if you want.”

  Dot clasped it on her wrist. “Thanks, Mom. I’m going to have to go soon so if you want me to take a final look at the invitation, we better get on it.”

  Lizzie closed the box and returned it to the dresser. “I need you to look at that. Also, we need to decide on the music, if we wait much longer we might not get to book your first choice.”

  Dot groaned, “I am so tired of making choices.”

  Lizzie laughed, “This is just the beginning, wait until we start on the seating chart, the catering menu . . .”

  Dot followed Lizzie down the stairs and into the office. Lizzie had pinned charts and lists on the wall. “Wow! This looks like a war room.”

  “Planning a wedding is a major undertaking, and I want to make this as perfect as possible.”

  Dot hugged Lizzie, “I’m marrying Hudson, if we had to do it in an office building wearing paper bags it would still be perfect.”

  Lizzie’s soul flooded with happiness; Dot was marrying the right man for the right reasons. She wasn’t repeating Lizzie’s mistakes. “That’s how it should be. I felt that way when I married your father.”

  Lizzie brushed Dot’s hair back from her face. “You are a smart young woman, my Dot. I wasn’t near as enlightened as you at your age.”

  Dot smiled, “I had really good parents.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lizzie’s reflection looked back at her. Am I old enough to be the mother of the bride? She saw looking back at her the same girl who married Bennett twenty-six years ago. Her tummy wasn’t as flat, and as she leaned in for a closer look, the fine lines around her eyes and mouth spoke to the years gone by.

  “I really like this one, Mama.” Dot stepped up beside her. “The color is almost a match to the bridesmaids!”

  Lizzie ran her hand across her stomach over to her hip. “It doesn’t bother you that it is so close?”

  The dress had a fitted bodice and an A-line skirt that was constructed from four layers of fine silk and organza, giving it a petal effect. It came to tea-length, and Lizzie could imagine twirling around the dance floor.

  “Not at all, I love how elegant this is, but not mother of the bride-ish.” Dot lifted Lizzie’s hair up onto her head. “I can see you with an up-do and Aunt Beverley’s diamond earrings.”

  “I do like it; I just think it’s a little plain at the waistline.”

  “Let’s try a belt.” Dot walked over to a display of ribbon and jeweled ones. She brought back a delicate band of clear crystals that had been crafted into a vine of flowers. Dot held it around Lizzie’s waist.

  “Yes, that finishes it. I bet Aunt Amy could attach it so it wouldn’t need to be tied. I don’t like the idea of a bow in the back.”

  Lizzie changed back into her clothes and paid for the dress and belt. One more thing off the wedding to-do list. The wedding was two months away, and most of the decisions were made. Dot and Hudson had met with Faith to pick items
for their menu and decide on their cake. Flowers were ordered, band and photographer booked, it was time to enjoy some of the fun things.

  Dot and Lizzie parted ways outside the store. Dot back to work and Lizzie to meet Amy and M.A. for a late lunch.

  Amy and M.A. were already seated at the table, Lizzie seeing them before they saw her. Amy looked relaxed, truly the same as ever, but M.A., the effects of grief were etched on her face. She smiled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes, her light was diminished. M.A. normally took care to step out with her hair curled and today it was just pulled back in a clip. Black circles, ill-concealed with make-up spoke to Lizzie. Her friend, her soul sister, was far from alright.

  “Hey girls, sorry I’m late. It was worth it, Dot and I found my dress.”

  Amy handed her the specials menu, “You’ll have to tell us all about it.”

  “I can do you one better, after lunch, I’ll show you. Plus, I want your opinion about a possible alteration.”

  M.A. sat down her tea, “Amy has mad skills, I’m sure she can make any change your soul desires.”

  “Thanks, I enjoy it. Sometimes I think I should have become a seamstress rather than an accountant.”

  Lizzie reached across the table and laid her hand on M.A.’s, “I hate to start this lunch date with such a serious question, but I can tell by your eyes, you are not sleeping. What’s going on with you?

  M.A. sighed, “I can’t hide anything from you, can I? I’m struggling, much more than I thought I would with this grief. Somedays I don’t want to get out of bed, but I can’t seem to sleep either. When I do, my dreams are jumbled, and I wake up every few hours.”

  Amy laid her hand on M.A.’s arm, “I suspect you are putting on a happy face for your girls, grandchildren, and the rest of the family. Which, I understand why, but you need to take care of yourself too.”

  “Have you thought about talking to someone, like your minister, doctor or even a counselor? Amy and I are here for you, but a professional might better understand the grief process.”