A Family Affair

by Shannon VanBergen

  She looked at me like I was crazy. “It’s hotter than blue blazes out here! I’m comin’ in!”

  When we walked into Grandma’s apartment, I was greeted with the same sense of loneliness I had felt since Grandma had gone into the hospital. I couldn’t wait until she came home. I knew she couldn’t either.

  “Make yourself at home,” I said to Betty. “I’ll just grab a few things and then we’ll head out.”

  “Take your time,” Betty said, walking through Grandma’s living room.

  Grandma Dean had texted me a list of things she wanted me to bring her, so I grabbed a bag and looked through my phone to find it. I went through the list—hair product, hair product, makeup, moisturizer… I was going to need a bigger bag.

  “Geraldine’s apartment is so nice,” Betty hollered from the living room. “I love the view of the pool.”

  I heard the back door open and close, and I knew she had stepped out to get a closer look.

  I rummaged through a drawer in Grandma’s bathroom looking for one of the things on her list and all of the sudden, I heard yelling. I stood up straight, stunned by the anger I was hearing from outside. Was that Betty?

  I ran to the back door and flung the door open just in time to see Betty push Lloyd into the pool. “I better never hear you say anything like that again!” Betty yelled at him before huffing into the house.

  I wasn’t sure what Lloyd had done, but knowing him, he deserved the punishment.

  His arms were flailing, and it took me a second to realize he couldn’t swim. I yelled for Betty to help me and she came back outside, her arms folded in defiance.

  “Help!” I yelled to her, reaching over the pool and trying to grab Lloyd.

  “The pool’s only four feet deep,” she said, pointing to the writing next to the pool’s edge. “Just tell him to stand up!”

  I yelled at Lloyd to stand up, but at first, he didn’t hear me. I was finally able to get a hold of his robe and I pulled him to the edge. “Stand up!” I yelled again and this time, he listened. He put his feet down and stood up, coughing up water.

  “Hmph,” Betty said, arms still crossed. “I thought this place was perfect but now I see a major flaw. The pool’s not deep enough.” And with that, she stormed back in the house.

  I helped Lloyd over to the metal ladder and helped pull him out.

  When he was standing safely on the sidewalk, I tried to pull his soaked robe around him. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what he said for Betty to knock him into the pool, but I was curious.

  “What did you say to her?” I asked as I helped him into a chair.

  He looked surprised. “I didn’t even say anything bad! I was just making conversation!”

  “You had to say something, Lloyd. She wouldn’t have just pushed you into the pool over nothing.”

  He thought about it for a minute. “I can’t think of anything bad. I introduced myself and she said she’d heard of me. Called me the ‘resident ladies’ man.’ Of course, I loved that my name got around like that. Then she told me she was Betty and she yelled out Roll Tide. She asked me if I was an Alabama fan. I said no, I liked Tennessee, and the next thing you know, I’m fighting for my life in the deep end.”

  “First of all, there is no deep end. It’s four feet deep all the way across.” I thought for a moment. “Are Tennessee and Alabama rivals?” I asked.

  “How should I know!” he yelled back. “I don’t watch college sports. I just picked Tennessee because I went on a date last night and that’s where my new lady friend is from!”

  I sighed. The dating, the fights, the grudges. This place was like high school but with blood pressure monitors, Depends, and Viagra.

  “Are you okay?” I asked Lloyd, feeling bad for him that he had a near-death experience over something so silly.

  He coughed a little and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t feel that well. I think I need to mouth to mouth.”

  And he was back.

  “I’m outta here,” I said, walking away.

  “No, Poodles! Don’t leave me! I’m weak!”

  “Good-bye, Lloyd,” I called over my shoulder.

  Once inside, I gave Betty a stern look. I didn’t care if she was older and bigger than I was. Lloyd wasn’t some spring chicken, he could’ve gotten seriously hurt.

  “That wasn’t very nice of you!” I scolded her. “You could’ve killed him!”

  “Well, you weren’t really that concerned,” she said back. “You didn’t even jump in to save him!”

  She was right, and I was flooded with guilt.

  “He wasn’t worth gettin’ your hair wet, was he?”

  I hated being called out like that. “Well, I got him out and that’s what matters. And he’s not even a Tennessee fan, he just said he was.”

  Betty crossed her arms again and looked irritated. “People shouldn’t joke about those kinds of things or people could get themselves killed.’

  “Well, not here!” I said. “These are my friends and you should be nice to them!”

  There was a knock on the back door, and I walked over to see who it was, muttering hollow threats just like my mom used to do when my sister and I were younger and got in trouble. I opened the door and there stood Lloyd.

  “Poodles,” he said, clutching his chest and bending over. “I need help!”

  “Oh my gosh, Lloyd!” I cried out, grabbing him. “Are you okay?”

  I got him propped up and he looked me in the eyes. “I just need…I just need…a little mouth to mouth.”

  “Get out of here!” I said, pushing him away from me. “You’re a sick man!”

  He stood up straight and smiled. “Come on, Poodles. I’m an old man. We can all use a little extra oxygen!”

  I looked at Betty, and she raised an eyebrow. I nodded and she barreled through the living room toward the door. I didn’t see what happened, but I heard the splash. She came inside, brushing off her hands like she had just completed a dirty task. Before I closed the door, I looked outside to make sure Lloyd was alright. He was standing up in the pool, wiping water from his face. He saw me and blew me a kiss.

  27

  I said good-bye to Betty once we got inside the hospital. She went toward the cafeteria and I took the elevator up to Grandma’s room. I made my way through the winding halls until I found her new room. She had been moved the day before, not needing much monitoring anymore. As I walked up to her room, a nurse was walking out. She was laughing, and I could hear Grandma cackling inside. “That woman has us laughing all the time!” the nurse said. I smiled, thankful to hear that she was keeping her spirits up.

  I walked in and handed Grandma Dean the bag from home. She looked through it, taking inventory. Finally, she looked up and smiled. “It’s all there,” she said, closing the bag and setting it next to her. “Is your mother here yet?”

  “Hattie texted me and said they’re on their way. They should be here in about forty-five minutes. I’m a little worried about how Hattie and Irene will handle themselves around my mom and Amber. You know how they are.”

  Grandma laughed. “They can behave when they want to.”

  I filled Grandma in on the latest, telling her about Bobby and how he was behind the body showing up at the lumberyard. She was shocked at first, and not happy we were still investigating the case, but then finally shook her head. “That poor family. They just want answers.”

  “So, we’re back to square one,” she said, sitting up straighter in bed.

  “Well, we’re back to square one. You’re not involved in this anymore because you don’t need the stress.”

  Grandma’s face fell in disappointment. “I didn’t live this long just to be treated like I’m already dead.”

  “I know,” I answered, patting her hand. “But you have to take it easy for a little while.”

  The creases in her face grew deeper and I could tell that my trying not to cause her too much stress was actually causing her too much stress. Time to change the su
bject.

  I looked out the window, trying to think of what we could talk about. The sun was shining and suddenly I wished I was out there, soaking it all up.

  “Nikki, quit fidgeting. It’s not ladylike!”

  I looked back at her in surprise. Was I fidgeting? And then I noticed that my leg was bobbing up and down.

  I had to reach out and physically stop it from moving.

  “Why are you so nervous? Surely you’re not worried about Amber and your mom visiting.”

  I sighed. It was that…and more.

  “Come on. You can tell me.” Her voice was sweet, and I could feel my emotions bubbling to the surface even though I commanded them to stay buried down deep. Finally, I couldn’t control it any longer. I started crying.

  “Nikki,” Grandma soothed. “What on Earth is wrong with you?”

  I looked at her, sitting in her hospital bed, healing from a heart attack. When did this woman, who was practically a stranger most of my life, become my best friend? She was the only person I could share the truth with. The only one I trusted with my secret.

  “Grandma, I think I know what my problem is with guys—why I am the way I am.”

  She looked surprised, but then her face softened into a concerned smile. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I sighed. I did…but I also didn’t. But I knew that until I said it out loud, I would keep making the same mistakes—or decisions—and I didn’t want to live like that anymore.

  “It’s a terrible story,” I warned her. “I’ve made some really bad decisions in my life.”

  Grandma chuckled. “Who hasn’t? We’ve all done things we regret.”

  “I know,” I said, looking back out the window. “But this is bad.”

  She let me collect my thoughts, patiently waiting until I could look at her again.

  “The night I graduated high school, a bunch of us snuck out late at night and met in a cornfield.”

  Grandma was already confused. “A cornfield?”

  I shrugged. “That’s what we did in Illinois. We met in a cornfield and drank vodka or whiskey or whatever else one of us brought.”

  “To each his own, I guess,” Grandma said. “Go on.”

  “Well, a bunch of us were there that night and we drank way too much and told stories and had a lot of fun, like we usually did. But that night, I got to talking to a guy that I didn’t really know very well. He wasn’t someone I usually hung out with. He seemed nice, but I knew we didn’t have anything in common. We decided to go for a walk in the cornfield…”

  “Oh, dear Lord, please don’t tell me you found a body. This is going to be like something out of a horror film, isn’t it?”

  I laughed, thankful for the bit of lightness to the mood. “No. We didn’t find a body. But we did start making out and one thing led to another.” I stopped and sighed. I didn’t want to go on, but I took in a deep breath. I was going to get all of this out. “I had never gone all the way with a boy before and there was this moment that I wanted to tell him no, he even asked me if I wanted to stop, but I didn’t answer him. I just don’t understand why I didn’t say anything.”

  “Oh, honey,” Grandma said, reaching for my hand. “Just let it go. It was a long time ago. Why let something like that bother you all these years later?”

  But I couldn’t let it go. “Grandma, something changed in me after that. All of my teenage years, I had been taught to save myself for marriage. It was supposed to be something special! And I gave myself away to someone I barely knew…and I didn’t even want to!”

  Grandma was quiet for a minute. “So are you blaming yourself, or him?”

  I looked out the window again and saw the clouds rolling in. The daily afternoon storm was brewing. In that moment, I wanted it to rain—to rain as hard as it could and wash away my pain, my guilt, my confusion. And when the storm passed, maybe I would feel different…free.

  “I don’t know,” I said quietly. And that was the truth. Whose fault was it? Did it even matter? But it did, it did matter.

  “After that, I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care who I slept with or who I married. Nothing about any of it was special.” I looked at Grandma Dean, and my heart hurt more than it ever had. “I lost myself that night. My voice, what I wanted…it was gone.”

  Grandma thought things over, and I hung my head. I should have felt better now that the truth was out. But I didn’t. But maybe it was because I was still holding something back. There was one more truth to the story that was still buried.

  “Have you talked to this young man about this?” she asked me. “Maybe that would give you some closure.”

  I was shocked. “Talk to him about it? He probably doesn’t even remember it. And how would I even start that conversation? Uh, hey, this is Nikki, do you remember sleeping with me in a cornfield eleven years ago? I’m kind of having regrets…”

  Grandma stopped me. “I’m serious, Nikki. Maybe he is just as confused as you are. Maybe if you two talked about it, you could at least find your voice after all these years.” Her voice softened. “Do you remember his name? We could Google him and get his phone number.”

  I sighed, the last bit of truth coming to the surface. “I already know his number.”

  Grandma’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You do? Who is it?”

  “It’s Trevor, Amber’s husband.”

  “Oh, my stars,” Grandma said, shaking her head. “That explains why you two hate each other. There’s confusion and guilt about what happened that night, so you both put up walls of anger.” Grandma shook her head and looked at me. “Nikki, you need to talk to him.”

  I let out a deep breath. She was right.

  “Does Amber know any of this?” Grandma asked.

  “No. I’ve never told anyone that story, and I doubt Trevor has either. I knew back then she kind of had a crush on him, and it wasn’t long after that they started dating. I thought about telling her a million times, but it just never seemed right.”

  Grandma reached out and took my hand. “Nikki, I think you should tell her too.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that one. But if I told Trevor, I should probably tell Amber too.

  I felt my hand squeeze and I looked up to see Grandma Dean with tears in her eyes. “I don’t know what happened that night, but promise me one thing. Promise me you’ll forgive yourself, even if you don’t forgive anybody else.”

  I gently squeezed her hand back. “I’ll try.”

  “I’m telling you the truth, Nikki. Sometimes it’s harder to forgive ourselves than anyone else. I went through a time in my life where I couldn’t forgive myself for some of my past decisions, and it made me a bitter person. But one day, I read a quote from Jimmy Carter’s sister. Her name was Ruth Carter Stapleton, and it really changed my life. She said, ‘Self-forgiveness is essential to self-healing.’ And she was right. You’ll never heal yourself unless you forgive yourself.”

  I let her words wash over me. You’ll never heal yourself unless you forgive yourself.

  Suddenly, I felt hopeful. I could change.

  I stood up feeling lighter, like I could breathe. I looked out the window. The storm had passed.

  “Thanks, Grandma,” I said, carefully leaning down and hugging her.

  She hugged me back. “You’re welcome.”

  My phone beeped and I looked at it. “Mom says her and Amber are on their way up. If it’s okay with you, I’ll head that way and talk to them for a minute and then I’ll head over to check on the shop and let you guys catch up.”

  “Okay,” Grandma said with a smile. “But if I text you because things are awkward here and we don’t have anything to talk about, you better get over here quick.”

  I laughed. “All right. I promise.”

  I opened the door and as I stepped out, I felt better about life. Things were going to be okay. I turned to walk down the hall and nearly ran right into Joe.

  “Oh hey!” I said to him. “What are you doing here?”


  “I thought I’d pop in and see how Geraldine was doing,” he said with a smile. He looked at me for a moment. “You seem different.”

  I smiled. I felt different. Happy. “My mom and sister are on their way up, but maybe I can sneak out tonight after they go to bed and you and I can go out and talk.”

  He laughed and pulled me close. “Just talk?”

  I gave him a sly smile. “For now, yes.” There was so much I wanted to say to him. I didn’t want to hold onto any of these secrets anymore. Being honest with Grandma Dean made me feel so much better. Now it was time to be honest with Joe. I cared about him, but things were moving too fast for me. I would tell him tonight and maybe I would even get the courage to tell him about Bo. Surely, he would understand. Then I would call Bo and call everything off for good. That was the right thing to do. It was what I wanted to do.

  Joe gave me a kiss and I turned to walk down the hall, and suddenly, my heart felt like it fell out of my chest. I was confused, yet at the same time, part of me knew exactly what was happening. I couldn’t get a breath as I stared into Bo’s eyes, just feet away from me. I tried to talk, tried to ask how long he was standing there, or even why he was standing there, but I was frozen.

  Bo’s blue eyes turned icy. He reached around me, extending his hand to Joe. “A friend of Nikki’s?” he asked, as Joe looked at him with a confused expression.

  “Yeah,” Joe answered, shaking Bo’s hand cautiously. “I’m Joe, Nikki’s boyfriend. Who are you?”

  I saw Bo’s grip tighten. “I’m Bo, her fiancé.”

  28

  When I first told my friends back in Illinois that I was moving to Florida, one of them told me Florida had more sinkholes than any other state. It terrified me at first—the thought of standing there one minute and being swallowed by the earth the next. But as I stood there watching these two men stare each other down, and then look to me for answers, I prayed a sinkhole would open beneath me and take me away from this mess I had created.

  Before I had a chance to say anything, my mom and sister walked up laughing, completely oblivious to the drama unfolding in front of Grandma Dean’s room.