“Wait, Blanche?” Becky asked, her eyes sparkling with interest. “What does she have to do with Tara’s black eye?”
“Nothing!” Tara insisted. “I’ve got to go. Justin, will you take Bella so I can check on Winnie?”
Caught off guard he frowned. “What’s wrong with Winnie?”
“I don’t know, she’s been edgy about this whole reunion thing, and I thought I knew why. Evidently, I didn’t,” Tara huffed, losing her patience with the whole situation.
“Can’t you just ask her when she gets here?” Justin asked. “I want to show you something.”
“So, her old friend isn’t coming?” Lizzie asked. “I thought she got a letter.”
“So did I,” agreed Julia, Katie, and Becky.
“Well,” Tara hedged, feeling uncomfortable, “I was wrong, all right? I just want to make sure she’s okay.”
“Why wouldn’t she be?” Justin asked innocently.
Tara scowled and turned to him, but at that moment she realized that Winnie already knew her friend was long dead. Claudia’s death had been a shock to her -- not to Winnie. Still, Winnie got that letter from somebody, and it had upset her. Maybe she was just being a nosey Nelly, but maybe Winnie needed help, and either way, she was going to make sure the old woman was okay and getting ready for the reunion. “I’m going to check on her,” Tara huffed, heading toward the door.
Justin caught her arm. “Don’t go, there’s something I really want to show you!”
Tara shrugged off his hand. “What is it?”
Justin scrubbed his hand across the top of his head, glancing from his wife to the group of women, who all looked at him expectantly. “It’s— well— it’s the project I’ve been working on.”
“Oh,” Tara scoffed, clearly angry. “So, you won’t tell me anything about this project for weeks, even when I beg, and now, right now, this very minute, you have to show me?”
“Yeah,” Justin said, his enthusiasm waning.
“Well, good for you, Mister Show-and-Tell, but I’m going to check on Winnie, I’ll just have to see this damn fabulous project, later!” She shouted.
“Darn fab-u-us!” Bella insisted.
Tara glanced at her daughter, then gave Justin a dirty look and stomped out the door of the gym.
The ladies tossed each other surprised glances, then their gaze landed on Justin, waiting to see what would happen next.
He grinned and offered a nervous laugh.
“Want me to watch Bella for a while?” Julia offered.
“Please,” he said, taking in his daughter’s state of disarray. At first, it looked as if he considered saying more, but instead he offered a self-conscious wave of farewell and took off at a lope to catch up with Tara.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Roy offered Winnie a hesitant grin and took a few steps closer. “I thought maybe it would be better to talk before the reunion,” he explained, “I remember how this town can be.”
Winnie could only stare at the man, as if he were an apparition.
“You didn’t answer my letter,” He continued. “I wasn’t sure…”
Winnie gave herself a shake and motioned toward the back door. “Where are my manners, won’t you come in?”
She held open the back door for him to pass.
“If I’m let in the back door, is that good or bad?” He queried with a grin.
Winnie ignored his attempt to lighten the mood and closed the door behind them, feeling tongue tied and unsure. Normally, she’d put the kettle on and tell folks to sit around the island, but this situation was way out of her comfort zone.
“You‘ve done well for yourself, Wynona.” Roy said, his gaze taking in the beautifully restored kitchen. “The old place looks great.”
“it’s Winnie now,” She corrected, “but thank you,” she said, her voice small. Nothing about the odd distance between her and Roy felt like the Wynona of her memories.
“Mind if I sit?” he asked, motioning toward a stool.
“Please do,” she croaked, her throat dry. Falling back on habit to cope, she hung her purse on a hook by the door and puttered to the stove. “Mind if I start the kettle?”
“Not at all,” he assured.
As she stood at the sink watching the kettle fill, Winnie had to wonder if perhaps it would have been easier to meet Roy at the reunion after all. At least there would have been other things going on. This silence was deafening.
She trudged back to put the kettle on the stove, and the clank of metal on metal was almost more than she could bear.
“Should I not have come?” Roy asked, his words sad. “If there’s still hard feelings, or—” he paused, and she turned back to face him.
His eyes looked as if they’d seen a hundred lifetimes of pain, and she swallowed hard.
“I married, you know,” He said. “We had a good life. She was Vietnamese, Kim was her name, she died four years ago.”
Winnie blinked, unable to speak.
“We had five children. All grown now, of course, with kids of their own.”
Powerless to control her feeling, Winnie could only make a small choking noise.
“I’m so sorry we argued, Wynona,” he continued, his eyes shining with tears. “I didn’t mean to make you so mad that—”
“No!” Winnie blurted, causing Roy to jump in surprise. “I—I should be the one to apologize. I was so headstrong, so caught up in the moment. I—”
Roy stood, and his Adam’s apple bobbed, then bobbed again.
Tears streamed down Winnie’s face. “Oh, Roy,” she sobbed, her heart breaking. They’d been so young and suffered so much grief.
He put out a hand and she offered a crooked smiled. Tears choked her and rolled down her cheeks. Then, with a sob, she rushed into his arms. “Roy, oh Roy,” she sobbed into his shirt.
His arms came around her, patting her back, offering condolence, forgiveness, and all the other things he’d meant to say to her.
Finally, at last, Winnie felt as if perhaps, a bit of her past was not lost.
* * *
The back door of Winnie’s kitchen banged open and Tara rushed in, then ground to a halt. Her eyes bugged, and she gasped in surprise to see Winnie in Roy’s arms.
Winnie pulled away from Roy and dabbed at her eyes with her shirt sleeve, horrified to be caught without a hankie.
“Who are you?” Tara blurted, her expression incredulous as her eyes bounced back and forth from Roy to Winnie.
Justin appeared at the back door. “Sorry, Winnie, I tried to—” His mouth fell open when he saw Winnie standing next to Roy.
Roy grinned nervously and swiped a finger under his nose.
“What’s going on here?” Tara demanded. Finding Winnie in the arms of man was so alien, so outrageous, she simply couldn’t even get her head around it.
Justin cleared his throat. “We’ll uh— we’ll just be going now,” he stuttered, grabbing Tara by the arm. “Come on, honey.”
Tara swatted at his hand. “Stop it. Winnie, who is this guy?”
But Justin was strong and determined, and even with Tara clutching the kitchen island, and then the doorjamb, he still managed to drag her out the back door.
“Sorry, Winnie, sir,” he grunted over Tara’s head as he slammed the door.
Tara was fighting mad by the time he dragged her, kicking and bucking, to his truck.
“Who do you think you are, dragging me out of there like that!” She fumed, shaking off his grip. “I want to know who that man—” She marched back up the driveway.
Justin grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back. “Oh no, you don’t.”
But when she stomped on his toe, she nearly managed to escape his grasp.
“Calm down and be— rational!” he grunted, taking an elbow to the ribs. “Tara!” he finally yelled, “Stop being ridiculous!”
She stilled in his arms, but he was afraid to relax his grip. “Are you done hitting me?” She didn’t move or respond in
any way, but he could still feel her heaving breaths. Slowly, carefully, he relaxed his grip, and she didn’t fight back. He turned her to face him. “Don’t you think Winnie deserves a little privacy?” he asked.
Tara threw out a hand to point at the house. “She was crying!”
“So was he!” Justin countered. “It’s probably been years since they’ve seen each other!”
Finally, the pieces began to fall into place, and her shoulders lowered. “You think he’s here for the reunion?” She questioned.
“Well, yeah!” Justin scoffed. “It is tonight you know! I heard he was staying out at the glamping park. I just didn’t know that he’d come over here before he went to the reunion.”
Tara stared at him in shock. “You knew he was here?”
“Well, yeah,” He admitted, realizing for the first time that Tara may have wanted to know. “Alex told Elliot,” he added, as if it weren’t his fault that he knew of the visitor.
“I don’t believe this,” she snorted, pacing two steps away, then two steps back. “Who else knows?”
He shrugged, unwilling to admit that all her friends knew an elderly gentleman was in town for the reunion. Frankly, he was surprised she hadn’t heard it directly from them.
“Well—” she sputtered, her mind spinning. “Do you at least know his name?”
He scratched his head, wondering if he dared say. “Roy something-or-other?”
Her face went blank and her shoulders went slack. “Oh— my— God!” She cried, each word rising in pitch. Then, she physically recoiled, all her muscles bunching, and she sprang back into action, sprinting up the driveway.
“Tara!” Justin cried, running after her. He caught her at the door and wrested her back to the truck. “What is wrong with you?” he panted, holding her in a bear hug to keep her from hurting him.
After a moment of struggle, she stilled in his arms, and hesitantly, he relaxed his grip and turned her to face him. “You’re driving me crazy!” He huffed.
Her expression was incredulous, then grew into a scowl. “Then we’re even!”
It was his turn to be shocked. “Even?”
“Huh! You haven’t been around for weeks, and now you think you can strut back in and demand what I can and can’t do?” She yelled, tossing one hand in the air. “You don’t even know what’s going on!”
“Well, obviously, neither do you!” he bellowed back.
That took her back a notch, and she crossed her arms over her chest.
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Look, this is all messed up. I really wanted to show you— the project. But now you’re so upset and angry…”
Her chin came up, indicating that he was correct.
“Please, come with me,” He implored, his eyes begging her to give him a chance.
She turned her head and tapped her foot, unwilling to listen, but as the moments ticked past, she realized she wasn’t going to be able to do anything at Winnie’s, he’d be sure of that. So, she uncrossed her arms, dropped them straight to her sides with her fists clenched and stomped around his truck, where she threw open the passenger door to climb inside.
He shook his head, muttering about ruined surprises, and why had he ever thought it would be any different.
They drove in silence with Tara staring stubbornly out the side window and Justin tossing her glances of apprehension. Maybe he should wait until things calmed down to show her what he’d been up to. But did things ever calm down in Smithville?
They pulled off the highway north of town and headed up a long gravel drive.
She turned to him in surprise. “The old Harmon place? That’s your project?” She was familiar with the property, as a matter of fact, she’d told Winnie to keep her eye out for it as a lucrative future investment. The handsome old house sat on a hill, surrounded by a lovely valley of wild flowers and untouched forest. The old place oozed charm and sophistication, even though it was old and ramshackle. She’d dreamed of fixing it up for years. “I don’t get it, you don’t do houses.” She said, her brow knit.
Then a horrible thought occurred to her, and her face darkened. “Don’t tell me you tore it down!” she cried, nearly coming over the console to grab his throat.
But just then they rounded a corner and the house came into view. Once again, Tara had to freeze in astonishment. The handsome old Victorian home had been completely restored, with a fresh slate tile on the roof, gleaming windows, and five shades of pristine paint. Even the yard had been landscaped with flowerbeds full of autumn-colored mums.
Justin stopped the truck allowing her to take it in.
“Oh,” she gasped, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. “It’s— it’s so pretty!” She cried. Then her gaze came to Justin. “I don’t understand.”
He offered her a sad smile, feeling unsure of himself after the events of the day.
“Why did you do this?” she asked, “You and Elliot do commercial projects.” She turned back to stare at the beautiful home. “Why would you spend so much overtime redoing this house yourself? Unless…”
Her eyes once again found his and he shrugged. “It’s for you, Tara. For us. For our family.”
* * *
Winnie climbed hesitantly from Roy’s rental car. Even after taking a moment to freshen up and change her clothes, she felt completely unable to cope with coming to the cemetery. She’d never dared to visit the graves of her husband and daughter, mostly because she was certain that seeing her loss written in stone would kill her. She stood by the car, staring down at the roses in her hands, unable to move.
Back at the house, she and Roy had talked for over an hour. Roy had been sad to speak of Thomas’s death, and he’d shed a tear when he learned of little Charity. Being a father himself, he understood the depth of Winnie’s pain. She’d shown him the photo of her and Thomas on their wedding day and even told him about the day Charity was born. That was something so sweet, so precious, so unbearably tender, that she hadn’t dared to speak of it to anyone. She told him how she’d felt when Thomas had first held their baby, of his pride and his joy. Roy had held her again as she cried, offering support. I felt different somehow to be comforted by someone who knew her and Thomas.
He’d shown her photos of his children and his wife, told her of his military travels around the world, and his accomplishments. But mostly, as was Roy’s way, he’d been sweet and kind, asking about her life in Smithville, the town folks, her friends and family. He’d been more than a little surprised when Tara had practically broken down the back door, then been dragged out by Justin -- but Winnie had gotten a good chuckle over it.
She’d shown him a photo of little Bella, explained how the tiny girl had filled a long-empty place in her heart. She’d cried more than once through their talk, especially when they spoke about the days before the war when they were all together at the university.
Roy came around the car and up to her side. “Are you okay?” he asked, bending to see her face. “We don’t need to do this today if you’re not up to it,” he assured her, but Winnie shook her head and moved forward, so he followed.
The couple carefully picked their way across the graveyard, reading headstones as they walked. Finally, Roy stopped, and his head hung in sorrow.
Winnie saw the name of her dear, sweet friend, Claudia, on the headstone, along with the dates of her birth and her death. Her heart swelled. What a tragically short life Claudia had led, yet how colorful and amazing she’d been -- a true sunflower among the roses of the world.
Roy stooped to place a rose at the base of the headstone, then straightened with a hitch and a grunt to come to Winnie’s side. “I wanted to visit here so many times,” he whispered, his words choked with emotion. “I was so stubborn, so mean. I felt like I let her down, I—”
Winnie took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “She knew you loved her,” she assured her friend, truly believing her words.
They stood a moment longer, contemplating the grave, the past
, and the girl. Roy looked up and sucked in a deep breath. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.
Winnie nodded that she did, but the lump in her throat felt overwhelmingly otherwise.
Roy led her through the rows of headstones, reading as he walked, but Winnie could only concentrate on staying upright and keeping up with him. What had she been thinking to come here? Roy had mentioned that he wanted to see Claudia’s grave, and some strange compulsion had made her offer to come along. Next thing she knew, they were on their way here, and Roy seemed to think she’d want to put flowers on Thomas and Charity’s grave as well. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, some part of her had longed to take them flowers all along. She’d just never had the strength to actually do it.
Roy stopped and Winnie clamped her eyes shut tight.
He waited, not saying a word, just simply put an arm around her, offering support.
She leaned into him, sure in the belief that Roy was the only person left who knew how much she’d loved Thomas.
The pain that had accompanied Winnie for years washed up and over her, and as always, she held her breath. She’d learned that if she could just hang on, just wait it out, the sorrow would recede enough to allow her to breathe again.
Sure enough, she was finally able to choke, to pull in a needed gasp, then to catch her breath. Holding tightly to Roy’s arm, she blinked open her eyes, adjusting to the dazzling sunbeams that burst across the graveyard from the west. The red and orange sunset perfectly accentuated her grief. She looked down, struggling to focus on the headstones at her feet. They were beautiful, she realized, noticing the way the granite gleamed and sparkled in the waning light. She’d picked out the stones long ago, had she forgotten that?
Little Charity’s stone featured a carving of daisies over her name, while half of Thomas’s stone was blatantly empty for her, she realized in astonishment. The thought of them being together in death had never felt more poignant.
Reverently, she bent to touch Charity’s stone, and the coldness of it was a shock to her system. “Oh— my poor— sweet baby,” she hiccupped, unable to control herself. Tears filled her eyes, and then sobs overcame her.
Hometown Series Box Set Page 143
