Trouble's Brewing (20 page)
“And the deposit?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I’m ready to get out of Summit View … so, if you say yes, we’ll say half of that too.”
My heart soared. Was God shining down on me? Or, was the devil opening a door? The very thought made me take a breath, but before I could argue with myself, Van said, “Do you have a contract I can look at?”
“I do,” Lu said, crossing the room to the counter where a briefcase rested.
“Mr. Lauer is an attorney,” I said.
Lu looked back at me. “Is that right? Well, Mr. Lauer, I think you’ll find this is standard.” She brought the contract to Van, who studied it for a few minutes. “It includes everything except what we just talked about, the new financial arrangements. I can have an addendum written up concerning our agreement in the morning.”
“Looks good, Goldie. You’ll just have to make a decision.”
I glanced down at my watch. It was nearing 6:00. Olivia had told me during my lunch break that her father would be arriving at 6:30. The very thought of the tension I’d be experiencing during the course of the evening was almost debilitating. “Where do I sign?” I asked.
When I arrived at Olivia and Tony’s I saw that Jack’s car was already in the driveway. I frowned. It was just like him to be early when I needed him to be late. Goodness knows the man had always been late when I needed him to be on time.
I entered the house through the front door to find him sitting on the sofa in the living room, Brook snuggled up to him as he read to our grandson from a little Rainbow book. A cup of coffee rested in front of him on the coffee table. When he looked up to see me standing there—looking flustered, I’m sure—he jumped up, nearly throwing Brook off the sofa. “Goldie,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”
“Nana,” Brook called out, reaching for me. I took him in my arms, hoping to avoid any type of physical contact with Jack.
I was unsuccessful. He walked over to me and gave me a cautious peck on the cheek, and I caught a whiff of his favorite cologne.
“Hello, Jack.” I put Brook down. “Let Nana hang up her coat,” I said to my favorite little boy. “And then I’ll finish dinner.”
Olivia entered the room from the hallway, beaming at the sight of the two of us. “I’ve got it all done, Mom.” She looked at her father. “Dad, doesn’t Mom look wonderful with her new haircut and the way she’s wearing her makeup?”
I gave her a disapproving look, then glanced over at Jack, who seemed to be quite taken with me. “Like I told her on Thanksgiving, she’s a sight for sore eyes.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll be right back,” I said, then walked into my bedroom to hang up my coat and deposit my purse. Olivia was right on my heels. When I looked back at her, she said, “Mrs. Prattle called.”
“Lizzie?”
“She said it was important.”
“Oh? Then I should call her right now,” I said, reaching for the phone on my bedside table.
“Mom,” Olivia nearly hissed.
“What?” I asked, already dialing Lizzie’s number.
“Don’t be too long.”
“I won’t.”
“And be nice to Dad,” she whispered, closing the door behind her.
I sighed as Lizzie answered. “Lizzie? It’s Goldie. Olivia said you called.”
“My friend, we have to talk.”
I sat on the bed. “What’s wrong?”
“I was driving down Main Street today …”
“Okay.” I was truly confused as to where this was going. “About 5:00 or so.”
“And?”
“I saw you, Goldie. Is that the friend of Chris you were telling me about a few weeks ago?”
I blanched. “Yes, but—”
“Goldie, when I saw the two of you crossing the street, an awful feeling went all over me. I’m your friend, and I want you to know I prayed all the way home before I called. I just see this relationship as being a disaster in the making. You are still married, Goldie.”
“I know that, Lizzie, but my relationship with Van is nothing more than a friendship.”
Lizzie was quiet before she said, “You want to try that again?”
I moistened my lips. “Nothing has happened. Nothing. I haven’t even been kissed by him or had him hold my hand or anything. We’re just friends, and I don’t see anything wrong with that.”
“All right, Goldie. Let me ask you this: if he ever did kiss you—or hold your hand—how would you feel?”
I couldn’t answer her. Well, I could, but neither one of us would like the answer, and we both knew it. “Lizzie,” I finally said. “Jack is here for dinner, so I have to go.”
“Oh? I’m glad to hear that. I really am. I love you, Goldie. And I’m not going to say that Jack Dippel didn’t deserve you leaving him when you did. But he seems to be trying, and I think you owe it to your marriage to keep trying.”
“I love you too, Lizzie. I’ll think about what you’ve said. I will.”
I replaced the phone’s receiver, then checked myself in the mirror before joining the rest of my family in the living room. When I did, I saw that Tony had come home. He and Jack were sitting down, talking about whatever fathers-in-law and sons-in-law talk about. Once again, Jack stood.
I lifted my hand to stop him. “Don’t get up,” I said.
Olivia came in from the kitchen. “Mom, why don’t you sit down by Dad?” she asked. “Dinner will be ready to serve in a few minutes.”
“Are you sure you don’t need me to help?” I asked.
“No,” she answered firmly. “I’ve got it.”
“But, the bread—”
“Mom. I’ve got it.” Her eyes widened, a sign telling me to hush up and sit down.
I nodded, defeated, then sat next to my husband. As much as I hated to admit it, he looked quite handsome. He’d dressed for Attempt to Defrost dinner—he wasn’t wearing the sweats I’d grown accustomed to over the years of our marriage. He was groomed right down to his socks and shoes.
He turned to me and cleared his throat. “So … uh, Goldie. How was … uh … work today?”
“I don’t think you’ve ever asked me that question before, Jack,” I said.
Olivia laughed nervously from across the room. “Mom’s a modern woman now, huh, Dad?”
“I suppose so,” he said. “Yeah.”
“Well,” I interrupted. “Maybe more than you know.”
“What does that mean?” Olivia asked.
I opened my mouth to tell them about my new condo, then stopped. My daughter looked so genuinely happy to see both her mother and father sitting side by side, I just didn’t have the nerve to burst her bubble. “Oh, nothing.”
Minutes later we sat around the dining table for dinner. Olivia had strategically placed her father and me so that we sat together. It was uncomfortable at first, but by the time we’d said the blessing, I was beginning to relax. After the meal, Jack suggested that we—he and I—give Brook his bath and get him ready for bed.
“What do you say, Nana?” he asked. I swallowed. “Sure.”
While I sat on the side of the tub bathing Brook with the sleeves of my sweater pushed up to my elbows, Jack knelt on the floor and made faces at our grandson. Brook, in return, giggled and splashed until I was soaked. At one point, Jack reached behind him, pulled a towel from the rack, and began to pat my arms dry. I quickly took the towel from him. “I’ve got it, thank you,” I said.
Jack blushed. He actually blushed as though he’d never touched me before in his life. The tension was both unbearable and, at the same time, sweet.
When it was time for him to go home, Jack asked if I would mind walking with him to his car. He had something he wanted to give me. “I hope it’s not jewelry,” I said.
A look of pain crossed his face. “No. It’s not jewelry.”
“Go on, Mom,” Olivia coaxed from the rocker where she was rocking Brook to sleep.
I relented, following Jack out the front door and down the steps to his car. He opened the back driver’s side door and retrieved a package beautifully wrapped and finished off with a bright bow. “I didn’t want to give this to you in the house with the kids watching,” he said.
I took the package, my lips pressed together. From down the block, a dog began to bark, and I looked over my shoulder.
“It’s just a dog,” Jack said. “Open it, Goldie.”
I looked upward. The dome of darkness overhead was bright with dancing stars, almost as if God were smiling down on us. “Oh, Jack,” I said, looking into his eyes. “What is it?”
“Open it,” he said again.
I did. Inside, wrapped in protective tissue, was a photograph taken on our wedding day, newly matted and framed in white and gold leaf. I pulled it out of the box and attempted to study it in the light of the street lamp. It brought back a flood of memories I wasn’t sure I was ready to dwell upon. Two young people with the whole world ahead of them. So many dreams. So many hurts and wasted moments they had yet to experience.
“There’s something else,” Jack said, pulling an envelope from his pocket.
It was a card. A beautiful card in which Jack had written a message of love and promise—and faithfulness—to me. I swallowed so hard, I’m sure he heard me. Tears began to slip down my cheeks, and I inhaled deeply to keep from breaking down altogether. This was all too much … too much for one day.
“I’m willing to give you your time,” he said in a voice so soft I almost missed the words. “But I want you to at least know that I do love you, Goldie.”
“I know,” I whispered.
“And I’ve been seeing Pastor Kevin. He says I have an addiction.” I looked up at him as he finished what he had to say. “But he says I can be cured. He says that with God all things are possible.”
I nodded, swallowing again. “Jack … I don’t know what to say.”
Jack touched my nose with the tip of his finger. “Say nothing, Goldie Brook Dippel. Let’s just take this one day at a time.”
One day at a time. Nearly the same words Van had said to me at Lake Dillon.
Oh, Lord,
I prayed from deep within my heart.
I guess it’s time you and I started really talking again.
Years before, when Clay had moved into the small second-story flat he called home, he’d shoved all his worldly goods into a few boxes, stacked the boxes into the walk-in closet located near his bed, and pretty much let them sit there to rot.
That evening, however, when he’d returned from a trip to the outlet stores in Dillon, where he’d bought “skinnier” clothes, he emptied the closet racks of all the old duds and replaced them with the new. That was when he spotted the old boxes. Like everything else in his life, he decided, it was time to plow through and get rid of the old.
The first box he removed was filled with his old college papers. He found a king-sized trash bag and began stuffing it with the past assignments, but kept a few of those he’d been most proud of—including his report on the effects of
Pretty Woman
on young girls who found the movie believable—returning them to the box.
Several hours later, he was plopping the last box onto his bed and peeling away the cracked tape. He peered inside. It was filled with photographs, some black and white and some in color turned to an orangish hue. There were stacks of them, taken by his mother and father, his grandparents, friends and relatives, and the Davy Faded Photographs Crockett School Pictures Company. He picked up the box and carried it over to his La-Z-Boy, determined to look at each one, though maybe not all of them tonight.
It took only a minute or two before he realized there were a great number of photographs with Donna’s image. He began to form a stack on the end table next to him. When it had grown to the point of toppling onto the floor, a new and decidedly brilliant idea came to him, and he smiled.
He knew exactly what was to be at the top of his to-do list for tomorrow.
If he was careful, he could win Donna’s future with the past.
I had only stopped by the church to change my Sunday school bulletin board. That’s how I walked into Wade and Donna’s argument, right in the middle of the church parking lot. Good heavens! This looked serious.
Donna practically knocked me down as she lunged for her Bronco. I tried to call to her, but it was as if she hadn’t heard me. She peeled into the street, never looking back.
As she’d bolted for her truck, I’d caught the expression on her face, and it scared me. I’d never seen Donna looking so … so desperate.
I turned to Wade, who was standing next to me. What was it about him that was so different? His clothes? His haircut? Yes. This was definitely a new look. Then I saw his shoulders slump. I touched his arm. “Wade, dear, tell me what happened.”
His eyes stayed focused on the Bronco as it fishtailed around a corner. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Westbrook, I can’t.”
I put my hands on my hips. “This is about ancient history, isn’t it?”
He looked at his shoes.
“It’s about two high school kids in Dr. Billings’s office.”
His eyes shifted to mine, and he nodded. “Then you know.”
“It’s taken me a while to figure out what happened. But I do know. Donna aborted your baby.”
He looked at the ground again, this time his eyes glistening. He bit his lip. “Yeah. The quick solution that neither one of us ever got over.”
Pastor Moore came out of the front door, sliding his arms into his suede jacket before zipping it up. “What’s all the commotion out here? I thought I heard shouting.”
Wade turned to him. “Donna bolted when I told her what our meeting was about.”
“Oh no,” the pastor said. His face fell. “I’m sorry, Wade. I know how much this meeting meant to you.”
I interrupted. “Fellows, I’m really worried. I’ve never seen Donna this upset. I feel like the Holy Spirit is impressing on me that we need to pray for her, now. I’m sensing she’s in danger, maybe even from herself.”
Together, the three of us joined hands and began to seek God, right where we stood. Wade started us off. “God, I know I’ve just been introduced to you, just met you, thanks to Pastor Moore. Maybe I don’t have any right to ask, especially considering how I’ve thrown my life away. But God, please help Donna. You know the burden she’s been carrying. It’s too much for her. Please, God, lift it. Give her peace.”
I patted Wade’s shoulder and added a prayer of my own. “Father, if the enemy is speaking thoughts of suicide to our Donna, still his voice in Jesus’s name. Keep her safe. Help us to reach out to her and her to us.”
The pastor added, “Father God, turn what appears to be a hopeless situation into good as only you can. We trust you. In Jesus’s name.”
When I looked up, Wade turned to me, his eyes downcast. “I’m so sorry, Vonnie. If anything happens to that girl, I don’t think I could live with it. I believe I love her as much as I did when I fathered our child.”
“I believe you,” I said, giving him a quick hug. “Can I borrow your cell phone?”
He unclipped it from his belt and handed it to me. I stared at it and blinked. “How do I use this thing?”
He punched in Donna’s number for me, then hit “send” and handed me the phone set. I put it to my ear. It rang once, twice, three times. I turned to the men and said, “Pray she’ll pick up.” They nodded and bowed their heads. Four times it rang, then finally, “Wade, I
hate
you!” an angry Donna screeched into the receiver.
“Donna, dear, it’s Vonnie.”
I listened to dead silence that turned into muffled sobs. “Vonnie, I … I can’t live with this. I’ve got my gun. I … I don’t want you to think you failed me, but I—”
“Donna, now you listen to me. I know you’re hurting. All I’m asking is a chance to talk to you. You at least owe me that. I want you to come by the house. I’ll meet you there in five minutes. No arguing.”
She hesitated but answered in a small voice, “Okay, Vonnie, but only because I love you.” She hung up, and I handed the phone back to Wade. “Donna’s meeting me at the house.”
“Let me go with you,” Wade said.
“No, Wade. I need to talk to her alone. I’ll call you later.”
As I climbed back into my car, I called over my shoulder, “Stay here and pray. I’m afraid this is a matter of life and death.”
Donna’s Bronco was already idling in my driveway when I pulled up. I walked to her window, and she lowered it. I could see her service revolver lying in the front seat. She said, “I’m here; so what do you want?”
I shivered in the cold as the wind began to pick up, rushing through the swaying pines in my front yard. “Let’s go inside, dear. This is a bit too chilly for me.”
Reluctantly, she turned off her engine and followed me up the steps and in through the front door. Little Chucky was absolutely delighted to see her, jumping in complete circles and barking with Spreading a Rumor joy. Donna looked down at him and blinked as if she’d never seen the dog before.
“Come join me in the kitchen. I want a cup of tea.”
She followed, and when I pointed to a kitchen chair, she sat down. Chucky jumped into her lap and snuggled in. Usually she didn’t allow that when she was in uniform. Instead of shooing him away, she looked down as if she was surprised my dog enjoyed her company. She slowly stroked his white curly head and whispered, “Chucky.”
I bustled around the kitchen, putting the kettle on the stove, cutting thick slices of carrot cake, Donna’s favorite, and readying the teacups.
I put the cake in front of her; Chucky lifted his head onto the table and licked the edges of the dessert. “Bad boy,” I scolded.
Donna broke off a piece of the cake and fed it to him. “It’s okay.”
I sat down across from her, waiting for the water in the kettle to boil, and took a deep breath. “We’ve got a lot in common.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve both kept secrets about our babies.”
“I hardly think our situations are similar. You didn’t kill your baby.”
The teakettle started to whistle, and I jumped up to take it off the burner.
“True, but carrying that secret hurt me, hurt my marriage, and hurt my relationship with you. Did I ever tell you how much I regret keeping that secret from you and Fred?”
I poured the hot water into rosy china cups. Donna said, “I seem to remember how painful it was for you when I finally guessed you even had a secret.”
“Yeah, it was much like what you’re going through right now. But you know, when I finally allowed that secret to come into the light, something wonderful happened to me.”
“Besides being reunited with David?”
“Yes. I was also reunited with my life. What I’ve come to realize is my secret kept me from deeper relationships, even with my husband as well as my friends, and”—I smiled as I handed her a cup of cinnamon tea—“my daughter.”
She cocked her head as the tea steamed in front of her. “I can see that.”
“Listen, Donna, the same thing can happen for you now that your secret is in the light. I know it’s painful, but this secret of yours can draw us closer. That barrier of secrecy we once shared won’t come between us anymore. I’m not saying you need to tell everyone. Especially avoid sharing with people like Lisa Leann. But I think, in your case, you have a few people who need to know.”
“But you … they … will think less of me.”
I stood and walked to her side. I leaned down and opened my arms to hug her. “No, Donna, I think more of you. You’ve survived a difficult thing. Now it’s time to finally talk about it with someone who loves you as much as I do.”
Slowly, Donna lifted her arms and embraced me. I whispered into her ear, “Donna, I love you like a daughter. Don’t you dare leave me.”
Donna buried her head into my shoulder. “Mom, I love you too.”
Later, after we finished our cake, I gave our teacups a warm-up, and we withdrew to the living room to recline in the La-Z-Boys.
That’s when Donna began to pour out her heart. It seems she and young Wade had been in love. They’d never intended to have sex, but gradually their relationship became more physical. With her dad at work in the afternoons and no mom in the house, she and Wade had spent their time together in her bedroom after school. Then, when she suspected she was pregnant, her world fell apart.
“Telling Daddy was the hardest thing. He didn’t yell at me. He did something worse; he cried. Then he made a phone call to Dr. Billings. You remember the day Wade and I came in? It was for a pregnancy test, to prove what I already knew.
“After the ‘positive’ report confirmed it, Daddy was determined there would be no more scandal in the family. He drove me down Spreading a Rumor to see the abortionist. But I don’t think he had any idea how this decision would stifle my entire life with guilt and regret.”
“Is that why you decided never to marry?”
Donna took a sip of her tea. “Yeah. I didn’t deserve happiness, and I didn’t want it, not after what I’d done.”
“But Donna, you do deserve happiness and love. God will forgive—”
I heard the low rumble of Fred’s truck as it pulled into the driveway. I looked at my watch. How had it gotten so late? “Oh, dear.”
Donna stood. “I’d better go. I lost track of the time too, and I’m supposed to be at work in a few minutes.”
I put my cup and saucer down and rose from my chair. “Are you going to be okay?”
She nodded and leaned over to scratch a sleepy Chucky behind his ear as he stood and stretched. “Yeah.” She hugged me. “Thanks, Vonnie.”
“Before you go, I’d like to invite you to have dinner with Fred and me this week. When’s your day off?”
“Thursday. Let’s make it Thursday night.”
“Okay, promise me you’ll be safe out there, especially with loaded guns.”
She turned at the door with a little smile. “I will, Mom. I promise.”
Donna stopped to chat with Fred on the front porch, and I quickly dialed Wade. “I’ll call you later, but I wanted you to know that Donna’s going to be okay.”
He breathed his response, “Oh, thank God.”
“Gotta run.” I hung up and looked out the window again, in time to see Donna drive off. I hadn’t prepared anything for dinner. Hmm. I did have a pound of hamburger thawed. I’d ask Fred to fire up our backyard grill. Sure, it wasn’t picnic weather, but we grilled all year long.
Fred walked in, shuffling through our mail and wiping his feet on the blue braided rug in front of the door. He was dressed in his oily blue overalls with his name embroidered in red across his breast pocket. I could see that they would need to be thrown in the wash as soon as possible. “Hi, Fred. How was your day?”
He gave me a nod like I was an acquaintance on the street. “What did Donna want?” he asked me.
“You know how I’ve prayed for that girl, prayed she would come to me and tell me what we’ve known all these years about the baby. Well, it’s happened.”
Fred turned and looked at me. “You’re kidding me. She finally told you?”
I pretended to mop sweat off my forehead. “Whew. Yeah, it was pretty heavy. I’ll tell you about it over dinner tonight. Would you mind firing up the grill for me?”
Fred took two steps toward me. “You’re giving in?”
“What?”
“You’re going to let me burn those letters from Joe?”
I took a deep breath. “I was thinking more about barbequing some hamburgers.”
“But the column in the paper said …”
“Fred, I know all about that silly column, and I know you shouldn’t believe everything you read.”
“Vonnie, why can’t you give those letters up?”
I took a step toward Fred. “I’ve been asking myself the same question, and I think I’ve come to an understanding and a solution.” Fred moved closer. “What’s that?”
“Fred, you have to understand that I love you. Joe is gone; he’s been out of my life for decades. And I’ll admit, when you and I were first married, I thought a lot about the man I’d lost. But then I had you.” I took another step. “I grew to love you as much as a woman can love a man.” I felt the tip of my nose burn. That always happens when I get emotional. “But here’s the problem. Those letters are all that’s left of a man’s life. I can’t destroy them, but neither is it right for me to keep them, especially when they hurt you.
“So this morning I bundled them up, took them to the post office, and sent them to my son. They’re his heritage. Those letters will help him know how loved and wanted he was.”
Fred reached for me and drew me into his arms. “My Vonnie, you’ve come back to me.”
I hugged his neck. “Fred, I never left.”
Before Fred could tug me into our bedroom, there was a knock at the door. “Yoo-hoo, Vonnie!”
Oh my goodness, it sounded like Lisa Leann. I went to the door as Fred tagged along behind me. I opened it a crack, and there she was, holding a lovely platter of cinnamon rolls. Once again, she looked as if she had stepped off a fashion runway, dressed in a short mink jacket and black velvet pants. Her hair stayed in place in spite of the stiff breeze.
“A peace offering,” she said. “I’m sorry about the other day and what I did. My Mandy’s been talking to me about how I need to respect other people’s privacy. She says I messed up. So will you forgive me?”
“Of course.”
“But, also, I wanted to bring these over to thank you for helping me with Mandy at the ER. I don’t know what I would have done without your help.”
A humbled Lisa Leann was a sight to see. “Thank you, this is so thoughtful.”
She smiled. “Before I go, well, I know I shouldn’t say anything. But I just can’t resist.”
Oh dear. “Resist what?”
“Well, what I want to know and what I’m hoping you’ll share with me is what is going on between Clay and Donna.”
I was so surprised by the question, I could only shake my head. “Clay and Donna?”
“Yes. I was at the shop late last night, and there the two of them were, locked in a passionate embrace. I think they were necking right on the street.”
Fred stepped forward. “I would appreciate it, Mrs. Lambert, if you wouldn’t talk about our daughter like that.”
“Your daughter?”
“Donna is our daughter of the heart,” I said. “But Fred’s right, Lisa. You are speaking out of turn. And your words hurt people. If you want to know what’s going on between Clay and Donna, you should ask them, instead of spreading it all over town.”