Hope Springs - 05 - Wedding Cake

by Lynne Hinton

  Charlotte waited with interest, taking a bite of the cookie he handed her. “The girl you brought here, was she a girlfriend?” Charlotte asked, and then stopped. “Wow!” she said in surprise. “This is a good cookie!”

  “Told you,” he noted. “And the girl I brought here.” He paused. “She’s four.” He smiled.

  Charlotte reached over and punched him on the leg.

  “Ouch,” he yelled, and then laughed.

  “But then why do you suppose I’m the one?” Charlotte asked. “Why now do you find yourself interested in me?” She finished the cookie and reached for her glass of wine.

  Donovan considered the question as he poured some more wine for them both and handed Charlotte her glass. It was quiet for a while as Charlotte waited for his response, taking a sip. She listened to the evening sounds around them.

  “My grandmother always said that love is a bit like seeds in the earth.” He glanced down at the big plum pit she had placed on the blanket. “Some fall and sprout right away, growing into their plants or trees not long after having been dropped. But some seeds can remain barren for many seasons, tossed by the wind, blown beneath roots of trees or hidden under stones or pushed beneath the ground. They finally sprout only when the earth has tilted in the most pleasant way.” He paused and looked at Charlotte. “I guess the earth must have shifted when I wasn’t paying attention.”

  Charlotte studied him. “And a seed has sprouted?” she asked.

  “A seed has sprouted,” he responded. He reached over and picked up the plum pit and a bottle of water from the basket and walked around Charlotte to a small place near the wash.

  Charlotte watched as he dug a hole and placed the pit inside. He poured a bit of water on it and then covered the pit with dirt. He glanced over at her and smiled. And Charlotte didn’t know if it was the wine or if the earth had truly shifted, but she was suddenly and completely starting to fall.

  Party Cheese Ball

  2 8-ounce packages cream cheese, softened

  1 8-ounce package sharp cheddar cheese,

  shredded

  1 tablespoon chopped pimento

  dash salt

  1 tablespoon chopped green pepper

  1 tablespoon finely chopped onion

  2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce

  1 teaspoon lemon juice

  dash cayenne pepper

  finely chopped pecans

  Combine cream cheese and cheese, blending well. Stir in remaining ingredients except pecans. Shape into ball and roll in chopped pecans. Chill. Serve at room temperature.

  —Dick Witherspoon

  Chapter Fourteen

  Good Lord, Jessie, what is it?” Bea opened the back door wide and motioned for her friend to come in. “Are you hurt? Has something happened?”

  Jessie didn’t speak. She only walked in, her head down, her arms wrapped around her waist. Bea couldn’t tell if she was sick or devastated but she could certainly see that something terrible had happened.

  “Here,” Bea said, hurrying over to the kitchen table, pulling out a chair. “Sit down,” she said, holding the back of the chair as Jessie sat. “You need some water?” she asked frantically. “You want some tea?”

  Jessie only shook her head.

  “You want me to call somebody for you?” She leaned close to Jessie. “You want me to call James?”

  Jessie looked up quickly. “No, don’t call him.”

  Beatrice sat down across from her. She didn’t say anything at first. She waited, knowing that Jessie would explain when she was ready. The television was blaring from the other room, and Bea wondered if she should leave Jessie to go and turn it off.

  Jessie took in a breath. “It’s James.”

  “Is he okay?” Beatrice asked.

  Jessie nodded. “He’s fine,” she replied.

  “Then what?” Beatrice wanted to know.

  “James was seeing someone while he was in D.C.,” Jessie said. “I found an old letter and he confessed.”

  Beatrice nodded. She wasn’t sure of what to say. Immediately she thought of the upcoming wedding renewal service they had been planning and started to make a list in her head of whom she might need to call to cancel. She shook those thoughts from her mind, thinking it was a little early to make those plans. “What did he say?” she asked.

  “That it lasted six years and that he felt sorry for her and that mostly they were just friends.” She related the story her husband had told her. “He claims that the relationship started after he left me and ended before he came back.”

  Beatrice nodded. She tried to remember exactly when her friend’s husband returned to Hope Springs. She recalled it had been for their grandson’s wedding, just after Nadine’s little girl had gotten hit by a car at the church. She remembered that at first Jessie had been skeptical but then later had been delighted that her wandering husband had returned. Bea also recalled that the other members of the cookbook committee had not been so quick to celebrate the homecoming and had spent a lot of time grilling her about his motives. Of course, they had all come to accept him and were pleased that the couple had reunited. They all knew how happy it had made their friend.

  “I don’t know why this has me so upset,” Jessie said. “He was gone a long time. I don’t know what I thought. On some level I had to know he was seeing other women.”

  “It’s easy to believe what we want to believe,” Bea responded. “He came back saying that he missed you, had always missed you. He made it sound a lot like he hadn’t been seeing anybody else. And you’ve told me that you never dated while he was gone, so it makes sense to me that you thought the same thing about him.” She shrugged. “I’d be mad too,” she added.

  “I don’t know that I am as mad as I am … I don’t know.” Jessie stopped, trying to clarify exactly what she was feeling.

  “Betrayed?” Beatrice asked, recalling her own emotions about her daughter’s upcoming wedding. It had been almost six weeks since she had received the invitation, and even though she had been encouraged by everyone who knew her and knew what had happened, she still had not talked to Robin. She still hadn’t even decided whether she was going to the wedding. Every time she thought about calling her daughter to ask for an explanation she would find herself so angry, she knew she couldn’t talk without yelling. And she knew that yelling at Robin would not help matters.

  “Yeah, I guess that’s what I feel.” Jessie dropped her head in her hands. “Betrayed,” she repeated.

  Beatrice got up from the table and poured them both a glass of water. She set a glass in front of Jessie and then sat back down across from her. “What did the letter say?” she asked, recalling how her friend had found out about the affair.

  Jessie glanced up. “I didn’t read the letter,” she replied. She picked up the glass of water and took a sip.

  Beatrice appeared surprised. “You didn’t read the letter?” she asked.

  Jessie shook her head. “I don’t read other people’s mail,” she responded.

  “Well, that’s just silly,” Bea noted.

  “It probably would have just made things worse,” Jessie said. “Can they be worse?”

  Jessie considered the question. She shrugged in response.

  Beatrice drank some of the water. “What was the postmark of the letter?” she asked. “Was it mailed recently? Did she write to him since he’s been back in North Carolina?”

  Jessie shook her head again. “It was old, from the nineties, mailed to his apartment in D.C.,” she replied. “But it had to be important or he wouldn’t have kept it.”

  “Probably,” Bea responded. “But maybe it was important for reasons other than you think,” she added.

  “Like what?” Jessie asked, unsure of what her friend meant.

  Bea shrugged. “Maybe it was the letter that confirmed what he had known the entire time they were seeing each other. Maybe she was saying to him what he had known on some level and had not been able to say to himself.”

>   “And what might that have been?” Jessie asked.

  “That he should be back here, that he loved you and would never be able to love anybody else. Maybe he needed to be away from you to learn that important lesson, and maybe she was the one who was able to help him see that.” Beatrice smiled. She was proud of her idea.

  There was a pause.

  “Which movie did that scene come from?” Jessie asked.

  Beatrice sighed and waved Jessie’s response away. “I can come up with my own thoughts,” she replied. She hesitated. “Okay, it’s from a show I saw on Lifetime.” She could see that Jessie was about to speak and she added quickly. “A channel that comes standard for any cable customer!” She was sure that her friend was going to goad her once again about her television financial arrangement.

  Jessie laughed. “I wasn’t going to say anything,” she noted.

  Beatrice studied her friend. “Yes, you were,” she responded. “I can see it in your eyes,” she added.

  Jessie grinned and shook her head. “Beatrice, I can always count on you to make me smile.”

  Beatrice took a sip of her water. She put down the glass and could see Louise walking up the driveway and heading to the back door. “Well, it looks like the cookbook committee now has a quorum.” She stood up from the table and went to open the door.

  Jessie turned to see as Louise made her way into the kitchen. “I was driving by and saw your car,” she said as she entered the room. “I need to talk to both of you,” she added. She glanced around at Beatrice. “What are you watching?” she asked.

  The three women listened as all sorts of indistinguishable and somewhat questionable sounds were coming from the television in the other room. Beatrice hurried past her friends and immediately turned off the TV. “It was a documentary,” she explained as she pulled another chair from the dining room into the kitchen.

  “Yeah, right, I’ve heard about those kinds of documentaries,” Louise noted. She took a seat. “It’s called porn.”

  Beatrice rolled her eyes and poured another glass of water. She sat down at the table. “Jessie has discovered that James was two-timing her while he lived in our nation’s capital,” she summed up the conversation for her friend.

  Louise turned to Jessie. She was stunned by the revelation. “That true?” she asked.

  Jessie nodded. “It’s true,” she replied.

  “Jessie, I’m so sorry,” Louise said, reaching over to touch her friend on the arm. “How did you find out?” she asked.

  “She found a letter,” Beatrice answered for Jessie. “But she didn’t open it,” she added, “because she doesn’t read other people’s mail.” She raised an eyebrow as if she was suspicious of such a choice.

  “Ofcourse she doesn’t read other people’s mail,” Louise responded. “Most of us with any morals don’t.” She looked at Beatrice.

  Beatrice sat back in her seat without a response.

  “Well, what happened?” Louise asked Jessie. “Did you have a fight?”

  Jessie took her friend’s hand. “I found the letter, and when he saw it he asked me if I read it. I told him no and then he confessed. He just said he had met a woman in D.C. and that they were mostly friends but that they had been together for almost six years.”

  Louise didn’t respond right away. She just sat with the information, trying to imagine what her friend was feeling, trying to think of the right words to say. “Are you okay?” she finally asked.

  Jessie nodded. “I’ll be fine,” she replied. “It was just, I don’t know, a shock, I guess. It’s silly for me to have thought that he never dated in all that time he was away, but I guess I just didn’t want to think he was with anyone else.”

  Louise sat back in her seat. She folded her arms across her chest and waited. Finally she responded. “He came home,” she said softly. “Whatever he did while he was away, he chose you and he came home.”

  Jessie smiled. “Yes, I know. But I can’t help thinking that I was maybe his second choice,” she responded. “Maybe he and this woman tried to make a go of it and it didn’t work out and then he came home.”

  “Does that matter?” Louise asked.

  Jessie and Beatrice both looked at her.

  “I mean, he came home. And he loves you and you love him and you’ve been good together since he’s back. You went to Africa. He took care of you when Margaret died. He loves his children, loves his grandchildren, loves that little girl Hope. He is a big help to James Jr. He makes you happy, Jess. Does the other part really matter?”

  Jessie looked away. She thought about the time she and James had shared together since he had returned to Hope Springs. She remembered how satisfied she felt having him back home, how complete she was once again. She thought about how deeply he grieved with her and for her when Margaret was dying, how he doted on the children, how he doted on her. Maybe Louise was right, she thought, maybe it didn’t matter what had happened prior to his coming or what had happened that made him choose to come back. He was home, and up until she had found out this startling information, they were fine. She shook her head. “I don’t know whether it ought to matter or not,” she said. “But for now, it does,” she said. “Honestly, I don’t know why, it just does.”

  Louise nodded.

  “You want us to jack him up?” Beatrice asked.

  Louise turned to Bea. “Jack him what?” she asked.

  “Jack him up,” Jessie explained, laughing. “It’s slang for causing him trouble,” she said to Louise. “And no, Bea, I don’t want you jacking anybody up.”

  Beatrice smiled and shrugged.

  “What about you?” Louise asked Beatrice. “Have you talked to Robin?” The last time Louise had talked to Beatrice about her daughter, Beatrice had decided to call and talk to her. Louise wanted an update.

  Beatrice just shook her head. “I’m still too mad. I think I’m okay about it and then I just start crying again.” She sighed. “I guess Jessie and I feel a little bit the same. We’ve both been betrayed by the people we love. It just hurts and it takes a little while to move beyond it,” she added.

  “Beatrice, it’s been almost two months. She’s probably waiting to hear from you,” Louise noted. “Have you at least decided to go to the wedding?” she asked.

  Beatrice drank down the rest of her water. “I don’t know,” she said when she finished drinking. She wiped her mouth. “It’s a lot of money to travel there. Dick and I aren’t rich,” she said. “Besides, if she had really wanted me to be there, she would have asked for my help in planning the wedding.”

  Louise and Jessie looked at each other. They had been so hopeful that their friend had made things right with her daughter.

  It was clear that Beatrice didn’t want to discuss her issues any longer, and so she turned to Louise. “What is your big news?” she asked, remembering what Louise had said when she walked into the house. “Did you finally tell George to take a flying leap?”

  Louise looked first at Beatrice and then at Jessie. She took in a big breath. “No, I told him yes, I will marry him, and I’m moving to Maryland this weekend.”

  Chile Cheese Samples

  ½ stick margarine

  dash salt

  pepper to taste

  dash onion salt

  dash cayenne pepper

  ¼ pound cheddar cheese, shredded

  1 cup plain flour

  1 cup rice cereal

  1 4-ounce can green chiles, chopped and drained

  Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Mix the first seven ingredients, cutting them as when making a pastry. Add the rice cereal and form into small balls. Place a dent in each ball. Place them on a lightly greased cookie sheet and fill each small dent with chopped green chiles. Bake for 12 to 15 minutes.

  —Maria Roybal

  Chapter Fifteen

  Maria, just tell her it’s an emergency.” Beatrice had called Charlotte to ask for her help to stop Louise from marrying George.

  “Mrs. Witherspoon, I hav
e explained to you that Charlotte is in an important meeting. She’s trying to get placement for a resident.” Maria was answering the phones while Charlotte was taking a meeting with a county social worker. They were in the dining room of the shelter, which also served as the conference room.

  “What is this Mrs. Witherspoon stuff? Maria, this is Beatrice. Knock that professional mess off.”

  “Bea, I can’t interrupt the meetings,” she said.

  “Wait! Is it her boyfriend’s ex-wife?” Beatrice wanted to know. “It’s about time!” she added. “That woman needs to go on with her life somewhere other than with Charlotte.”

  Maria cringed when she heard the question and remarks. Beatrice had found out about Carla and her relationship with Charlotte’s boyfriend even though Maria had never intended to tell anybody who was staying at the shelter. Carla had answered the phone one of her first days as a resident, and the call had been from Beatrice. Some-how in that conversation, Beatrice had pushed Carla for information about Charlotte and Charlotte’s new boyfriend. In her next call to the shelter, Beatrice had talked to Maria, and somehow, information about the woman Beatrice had been talking to earlier had just slipped from Maria.

  Maria had confessed what happened to Charlotte, understanding that she had overstepped professional boundaries. Without giving out names, she had identified one of the residents to an outsider. She was mortified with her behavior and had even tendered her resignation as a volunteer. Charlotte had convinced her to withdraw that resignation and not to worry about it. “Beatrice,” she had said to the volunteer, “is a big mouth, but she’s two thousand miles away and she would never do anything to harm Carla or anyone else.”

  Maria, though persuaded to stay and to forgive herself, was still upset about what had happened, and when Beatrice reminded her that she knew about Carla, Maria just wanted the phone conversation to end. “Señor, perdóname,” she said.