Annabelle shook her head and reached for the handbag next to her. Handkerchief time. She dabbed at her eyes, careful not to smudge any of her makeup. “I’m old, Dellie. No one cares about a miscarriage that happened so long ago.”
“That’s not true. And there are women now who feel the same way that you did when it happened. Hearing you talk about it could help them—especially if they’re holding it all inside like you are. I know you want everyone to see only how strong you are, Annabelle. But you don’t have to be strong all the time. You’re such a giving person, in so many ways, but you don’t really let people in. Not enough.”
Annabelle cocked her head and leveled her gaze at me. “And you do?”
I shook my head. “No, not really.” I smiled sadly. “One of the many things I need to change. I don’t let them in because I’m afraid of getting hurt. And I’m afraid that they’ll get to know me and not like what they see.”
“What will they see, Dellie?” she asked, her razor-sharp focus seeming to bore holes into me.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. The din of the restaurant had faded out so much during our conversation that we might as well have been the only two people in the room. “They’ll see someone too weak to overcome her own fears. They’ll wonder why I can’t just eat a pizza and get over it already.” I swallowed, trying to gauge what Annabelle might be thinking. I’d never really put my biggest struggle out there with her, not in words, anyway. I’d talked about fear and anxiety and how much I’d let it limit my life for so long, but I hadn’t really gotten more specific. Not that I’d had to.
Annabelle’s face was impassive.
“Do you want to know what I see?” she finally asked.
Did I? I wasn’t so sure.
“I see someone who’s been greatly hurt more than once in her life, who somehow lost sight of herself in all of it. Someone who’s very strong in many ways that she may not even realize, but who has been living with fear for so long that she can’t remember life without it,” Annabelle said, not giving me a chance to respond to her earlier question. “What you’re going through is obvious, Dellie. But it’s not who you are—you’re beautiful. You, Dellie. You are beautiful. And you deserve more than what this is doing to you.” Annabelle leaned forward in her chair, staring me directly in the eyes, her gaze unbending. “Don’t let this crush you.”
There were tears stinging my eyes by now, and I tried to blink them away.
“I’ve lived a long time, Dellie, and I’ve seen a lot in that time. I’ve learned a lot, and I’ve been through a lot. Life is not easy, and anyone who tells you otherwise is trying to sell you something,” Annabelle said, still leaning forward. With her small frame, she could have looked hunched and frail, but her posture was still somehow empowered, poised. Controlled and dignified. Yet in no way was it intimidating. Instead, it seemed reassuringly confident.
“I know I come out with my guns blazing sometimes, and some people might write me off as a silly old lady with too many sparkles.” She shook her head with a satisfied little smirk. “Let them think it. It gives them a great surprise when they find out otherwise, believe me.” Annabelle’s smirk widened into a grin as she winked, her eyes twinkling with delight. “I see strength in you, Dellie, that you don’t seem to be able to recognize. I want you to see what I see when you look in the mirror, and that’s why I took you shopping. Not just to buy you clothes—I’m hardly ignorant enough to believe that clothes solve all the world’s problems. But I do know that they’re a place to start. You need to remember who you are, Dellie, and see it every time you look in the mirror.”
The tears were beyond hope by now, and they were streaming down my face. I pulled a napkin from the dispenser on the table and tried to sop them up.
“I don’t know how you see all that, Annabelle,” I whispered, not trusting my voice. “I think maybe you need to go back to that eye doctor of yours.” My attempt at humor fell a bit flat, but I didn’t know what else to say. I heard her words and appreciated them, but I felt so very unworthy of them. How could someone like Annabelle ever look at me and think that I was strong?
“Don’t sell yourself short, Dellie.” She reached out and laid her hand on my arm, ever so lightly, and then took my hand with a grip that surprised me. “Take back your life and make it everything that it can be. Let everyone else see what a beautiful, strong, vibrant woman you are. Be a message of hope.” Annabelle squeezed my hand. “Make your story count.”
“I want it to,” I said quietly, dropping my eyes. “I want to be able to look at these years and see that I fought back. It’s taken me a long time—longer than I should have let it, I know. But I’d like to think that it’s not too late.” I felt another bout of tears stinging. “Do you think it’s too late?”
Annabelle gave me a determined gaze, replacing her earlier smile with a look that could have motivated a legion of League ladies to move mountains without question.
“It’s far from too late. You just need to realize that you can, and that you’re worth it,” she replied. “You’re so very worth it. Remember that. I know you’ve only got a few days left here before you go back home. But I want you to do something for me.”
“What?” I asked, almost afraid of her answer.
“Don’t let yourself forget what you’ve learned here. And don’t forget that you’re not alone; you have the three of us—Vivi, Savannah, and me—all here whenever you need us,” she said, her gaze still piercing.
I smiled. “I know I do. My very own band of merry widows. Thank you for having the openness to see what you see when you look at me. And thank you for telling me your story, Annabelle. You’ve been giving me a little bit of Grammie back.” I squeezed her hand in return, hoping she could hear the sincerity in my words. “I’ve always thought that things happen for a reason and that you should try to learn from even the worst things. But I guess I never really realized that going through any of this could make me a better, stronger person if I let it.” I paused, wondering if I would actually be able to convey the impact that this trip had had on me.
To say that I was going to be instantly transformed and have everything fixed presto change-o the way I would have loved for them to be would have been unrealistic. It was going to take work—and time—to get myself and my life back on course. But I wanted to. I wanted to be out of this place that I had been in so long. I wanted to be free of the prison that I had been living in, that had become so familiar that it almost seemed safer than freedom.
I wanted to live my life and enjoy it—taste it and savor it the way I once had.
I wanted to lick the bowl clean and eat cake and celebrate it.
I wanted to be able to live with abandon.
I glanced at the letter, still in its envelope and waiting to be read.
“Read the letter, Annabelle. Those words meant a lot to Grammie. They helped her find her way to doing something that touched so very many people. Your gift and that letter meant much more than you ever realized they would when you gave them to her.” I smiled, thinking of Grammie and how much love she had always seemed to have for even the simplest things. “You marrying George wasn’t the end of her life, Annabelle. It was hard, and it was messy; but nothing would be like it is now if it hadn’t happened that way. And just think…she might never have begun to bake her cakes. What a loss that would have been!”
Annabelle laughed, the happy twinkle back in her eye. “It would have been a tragic one, wouldn’t it?”
I nodded. “You know, Grammie gave that cake server to my cousin Olivia when she was going through some very hard things in her life. She’d come here to spend some time figuring things out, getting some fresh perspective and doing some healing after a breakup. Breakups are painful enough on their own; but Olivia had just found out she was pregnant, too.” I realized as I spoke that she might have been familiar with the story of what Olivia had gone through, but I doubted it. She and Grammie hadn’t been close enough, even just socially, for h
er to have known. And she needed to know this part. It was too important to the rest of the story not to tell her. “Grammie taught Olivia how to make cakes during the time that she was here, and she’s really, really good at it now. The cakes she makes are beautiful, and she loves making them. Grammie saw how talented she was, and that’s why she gave her the cake server. She was doing the same thing for Olivia that you did for her, in giving her that cake server. A little sign of faith and encouragement.”
I cocked my head, leveling my gaze at Annabelle as another thought sank in. There was still something else she needed to hear, and I hoped that I would be able to do that for her now. “No one’s been angry with you for what happened for a very long time, Annabelle. It happened, and life changed for everyone involved, but no one stayed angry.”
A dubious eyebrow popped up on Annabelle’s wrinkled face. “Your grandfather sure seems to be doing a fine job of maintaining his low opinion of me,” she said, shaking her head sadly. “I understand it, to a degree. He’s a husband feeling protective of his wife and I hurt that wife, once upon a time. What I don’t understand is why, if your grandmother forgave me, he won’t. He seems to be harboring great resentment toward me, and I wish I could do something to make that change.”
“I do, too. There’s something you don’t know, though. He’s not angry with you, really,” I said, uncertain that I was going to be able to really explain things well enough to make a difference. “He might have started off that way, but it’s not even really about you anymore. It’s about what he thinks you represent. He’s got some idea of you in his head as someone who throws money at everything to get what she wants. He’s worked hard all of his life, and not having to work for the things you want in life, but having them all handed to you—he doesn’t understand it, and he doesn’t respect it.”
Annabelle’s expression was pained. “That’s a mindset that I’m never going to be able to change, Dellie. Peter is unbending in his convictions—you know that as well as I do.”
I nodded. “Yes, I do. And I’ve told him everything I know to make him change his mind about the way he feels about you. I don’t know that any of it got through, though.”
Annabelle picked up the cup of tea that had grown cold at her elbow and took a small sip before carefully replacing it back in its saucer. My coffee had long ago been drained, and while the cup still stood empty, I knew that Vivi and her staff had been giving us our space to talk without interruption. I would have to remember to thank her for that later.
“I have a feeling, knowing Peter, that peace can only be brokered by me. I will have to be the one to go to him, I think. Don’t you agree?” she asked, looking a bit resigned.
“I wish I could disagree with you on that one, but I just don’t see it happening any other way.”
“It would take a minor miracle,” Annabelle said soberly.
I darted a quick glance at the letter on the table. “You seem to be quite capable of that, Annabelle,” I said with a smile. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The look on Savannah’s face didn’t surprise me at all. I just wondered if it meant I didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of changing her mind.
“I just can’t do it, Dellie,” she said, her words echoing her expression. “What if something happened? Or nothing happened? What if I tried, and literally nothing happened? I’d have no way to pay her back, and then I’d have to live with knowing that I failed and that I was in debt to a friend who I could never even begin to repay. I can’t do it,” she said again.
“She believes in you, Savannah, and that’s why she offered it to you. I know we talked about this before, and I really do understand how you feel. Taking such a big risk like that isn’t easy. But she wants to do this for you,” I turned away from the airplane we’d been staring at for the past five minutes as we spoke, seeing it but not really seeing it. We were at Air Power Park, one of Hampton’s many gems of attraction, an outdoor collection of airplanes that dotted the landscape around a small military aircraft museum. Uncle Luke had brought Charlie and me here many times when we were little, on sunny days when the park seemed like the perfect place to sit and enjoy the icy sweetness of a Slurpee from the 7-Eleven. And now, on this sunny afternoon mere days away from the day that I would board the plane for home, it seemed like the perfect place to talk to my new friend about allowing her dreams to take flight.
I was fresh off my meeting with Annabelle, feeling optimistic about the future ahead—not only for me, but for the three women who had become so important to me as well.
“What if I fail?” she asked again, looking slightly green at the thought. “I’ll have left the security of a job and have nothing, Dellie. How can I do that?”
I reached out and took her hand, squeezing it tightly in mine as I spoke. “You won’t have nothing, Savannah. You’ll still have Vivi and Annabelle and all the other people here who love you and believe in you. Let them show up for you—there’s no doubt in my mind that they will. Open up that truck of yours, Savannah, and let everyone else see what a talented woman you are. Sure, it’s off-the-wall, but it’s good. It’s really good, and you’re going to make it. It’s definitely not going to be easy, but you won’t regret it.” I smiled at her. “Take it from someone who knows. Telling the boss you’re quitting to go off and live your dream isn’t an easy conversation to have. It can even feel a little bit ludicrous. But you can’t let your dream slip away when the chance to take it is being offered to you. Do it, and make your parents proud. Make Caleb proud.”
Tears sprang to Savannah’s eyes, and I knew my words had hit home. This was the one thing I could do for her, to repay her for the gifts she had given me during my month here. I could offer her the encouragement of a fellow dreamer, one who had reached out for something that seemed almost impossible to do, but still impossible to ignore.
Hopefully it would make a difference.
“Grandpa, what are you going to do when I’m not here to bug you anymore?” I asked with a smile as I curled into a hug one day later, one day closer to my departure date. I had only four full days left here, only four more days left to repay everyone who had so generously enriched my life, even in this short month that I had been in Hampton. It was amazing to think about, really, to look back and recount all the ways that I had been touched and changed by the people I’d met and the family I had reconnected with. I could hardly go back home now and do them all the disservice of not being inspired and motivated by them, to take the challenges I was facing and defeat them. I had come here for a reason, and I would honor that—and them—by embracing a new kind of life. One that was healthier and happier and fuller.
“I’ve loved having you here, Dellie, and you’d be welcome to stay even longer if you wanted to. I hope you know that,” he said, holding me tight against his chest.
“You mean I haven’t worn out my welcome?” My voice came out a little bit muffled as my face pressed into his shoulder, but I was pretty sure he could still tell what I was saying. “Even with all the nosing around I’ve done and getting all up in your business?” I had a teasing note to my voice, but I really needed to make sure that we were good, that I hadn’t pushed too hard the night we’d had our argument over Annabelle.
“Never. I love you, Dellie. You’s my girl,” he said, and his voice rumbled deep in his chest. “I’m glad you came. Promise you won’t stay away so long before you come back to see me again?”
I nodded. “I promise. I shouldn’t have stayed away this long, and I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for not being here for Grammie’s funeral, Grandpa. I hope that’s something you can forgive me for.”
“What’s to forgive? You had to work, and I understand that. I was never upset with you for that. It would have been nice to have you here, but I understood why you couldn’t be.”
I knew he meant his words to be reassuring, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him what had really kept me away. How could
I ever fully explain it to him?
“Thank you for that,” I said simply, knowing that he would never really understand how much I had needed to hear him speak those words. “And I’m sorry if I overstepped when I brought up Annabelle, Grandpa. I didn’t mean to stir up trouble or be disrespectful at all. I was trying to help.”
Not that I’d done much good on his end, but I’d still tried. And I had hope now, after my talk with Annabelle, that maybe something would change. She was a smart, determined, and resourceful woman, and I had no doubt that she would be able to work her magic somehow. Only time would tell.
“I know I got a little riled up there, and I’m sorry for that,” he said, surprising me. “I hope you didn’t think I was angry with you. It had nothing to do with you.” He repositioned his meaty paws on my forearms and pushed out from the embrace so he could look me in the eye. “Annabelle and I won’t ever be friends, Dellie. But it doesn’t matter. Not now, anyway. She doesn’t care for me any more than I care for her, and that’s the way it’s always going to be. Just is.” He shrugged, but the look in his eyes wasn’t so casual, and I knew not to press the issue, even though I wanted so badly to be able to flip a switch and change his mind. Annabelle was a good woman, the kind who Grammie had respected, but he wasn’t giving her the chance she deserved.
I had tried my best. Now, it was up to Annabelle.
I nodded.
“I understand,” I said quietly. There were other things to do now, most importantly to make the best of the time I had left with my grandfather during these next few days. “So, since today is my last Saturday here and all, could we spend some time together?” I asked, hoping that he would be up for a day of idle wandering with me. I really had no clear idea of anything I wanted to do, aside from just being together. I had been away for far too long. And even though I’d come up for a month, I still felt a little bit like I’d only scratched the surface of making up for all that lost time.
Life Without You Page 25