Chapter 21
For Beryl, the flight back to D.C. was something of a blur. Ridley was waiting for her at the baggage claim, the first time she had seen him wearing both prosthetic legs.
He stood when he saw her. She rushed to give him a hug, laughing to herself as she caught the envious looks on other women’s faces. If you only knew, she thought.
“So,” Ridley said, insisting on carrying her small suitcase, “tell me everything.”
She filled him in on more of the details of the interview and her dinner with Corinne and Aggie.
“Corinne and Helen lived in D.C.?” he asked in surprise.
“For a while,” Beryl said. “Then Helen got posted to England during the war. That’s as far as we got, but Corinne – Aggie calls her Cory – said she would write to me, tell me more.”
“And when will you hear from OSU?” Ridley asked.
Beryl shrugged. “I really don’t know,” she said. “Dr. Hudspath said they can’t make a formal decision until the posting period is over and all candidates are interviewed, but he implied they would like to make a decision soon. So, it could be as long as a few months yet, I imagine.”
Ridley nodded. “Good. I don’t want to lose my roommate too soon.”
She looked over at him as he drove. “So, how was your evening with George?”
A tiny smile played on his lips. “It… it was nice.” She waited. “And I think he feels the same. We do have a lot in common, and… like you said… he’s not into the typical sex first, talk later thing. We never seem to run out of things to talk about.” He nodded. “I like him.”
Beryl beamed.
“Tell me more about this Aggie,” Ridley said, glancing over at her.
Beryl laughed. “Well, she’s very protective of her great-aunt. I think at first she must have thought I was a stalker or something. I almost bowled them over, literally, on the sidewalk and then later, she was the one who almost ran me over when I was standing in their driveway.”
“You like her,” Ridley observed, smiling.
“What? No,” Beryl protested.
“Yeah, you do,” he grinned. “I can tell.”
“Well, maybe… she seems nice,” Beryl admitted, “Under different circumstances, but there’s no way, right now. I’m not jumping into anything with anyone,” she said a little bitterly, recalling her telephone conversation with Claire.
When they got home – home, Beryl thought. I’ve only lived with him a little over a week, and it feels more like home than the rowhouse did after all those years – Winston greeted her loudly, winding his way through her ankles, nearly tripping her as she carried her backpack in.
“It was only a few days,” she crooned, picking him up and cuddling him to her. She immediately frowned, hefting him. “He’s heavier,” she said, looking at Ridley accusingly.
“Well,” Ridley waffled, “he was hungry. What was I supposed to do?”
“He’s always hungry!” Beryl said. “You’re supposed to say ‘no.’ What kind of parent are you?”
The look on Ridley’s face made her laugh.
“What? You never thought of yourself as a parent, did you?” she asked.
Her cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and, looking at it, saw that it was her sister. Grimacing, she answered.
“Hey, Marian.”
Ridley watched curiously as he moved about the kitchen, laying out fixings for sandwiches as Beryl listened to whatever her sister was saying, mumbling occasional responses.
“All right,” Beryl was saying glumly. “I’ll get over there this week. Bye.”
Ridley didn’t say anything until they were seated at the table with sandwiches and drinks. “What just happened to you?”
She looked up at him. “What are you talking about?”
He shook his head, staring at her. “As soon as you picked that phone up, it was like watching you shrink. You turned into a completely different person.” He watched her watching him, thinking about this. “That’s what you’re like with Claire, too. It’s like seeing two personalities in one person. You’re not like that at work and with me, or with Mr. Herrmann and George.”
Beryl ate, saying nothing.
“What did she want?” Ridley asked after a little while. “Your sister?” he added when Beryl stared at him blankly.
“Oh, she said Mom needs some help clearing out boxes of old stuff from the basement,” Beryl said.
Ridley sat back. “And why is that your job?” he asked, trying not to sound accusatory.
Beryl looked at him. Her mouth opened and closed a few times.
“I mean, it’s fine if you want to help,” he hastened to add, “but why is there this expectation that you will always be the one to do these things? What’s going to happen if you take the OSU job and aren’t here anymore? Who’s going to be Beryl?”
* * *
“Who’s going to be Beryl?”
That question ran through Beryl’s head frequently over the next few days. Ridley had given her a lot to think about. She had never realized how much she changed when she was with Claire or with her family, but she knew when he said it that he was right. “Realizing it and stopping it are two separate things, though,” she could have said.
She honestly had no idea what her family’s reaction would be if she was offered the Ohio State position and decided to accept it. Probably not good, but… as much as she would have liked to think it would be because they would miss her, she strongly suspected it would more likely be because she wouldn’t be there to do everything anymore.
“What’s the matter with you?” her mother asked on Thursday as they shuffled boxes in her parents’ basement.
“Nothing,” Beryl muttered, opening yet another box of Nick’s old high school trophies, sports letters and scrapbooks of newspaper clippings Edith had put together.
She tried not to think about the reason why there were no boxes of hers down there… tried not to remember that her one box of mementos, consisting mainly of letters and yearbook remembrances from her few close friends had been tossed unceremoniously in a misguided attempt to prove to Claire that she and she alone had Beryl’s affections.
“Why do you want to hold on to these if you weren’t in love with them?” Claire had asked, her voice casual but her eyes narrowing the way they did when she was angry or upset as she leafed through Beryl’s high school yearbook, reading the sentiments inscribed there. “If they didn’t mean anything, you don’t need them, do you?”
Beryl had lost count of how many times over the past several years she had regretted letting Claire manipulate her like that. Those memories are gone, lost forever, Beryl thought bitterly, and here are boxes and boxes of things Nick and Marian don’t ever look at.
Edith eyed her shrewdly. “How’s Claire?”
Beryl’s face drained of all color as she realized with a shock that she hadn’t told them about breaking up with Claire. Of course, it would be hard to tell them about breaking up when she had never told them she and Claire were a couple. Not in so many words.
“Why bother?” Claire had said when Beryl first brought the topic up. “I’m not out to my family. Sorry, but it’s not worth the hassle. They would never understand anyhow.”
“You’re not going to tell them about me?” Beryl had asked, trying to hide her disappointment.
Claire scoffed. “I’ve never told them about any of my other girlfriends.”
But Beryl’s family was not like Claire’s. Even if they hadn’t been told, they included Claire, invited her to holiday dinners, birthday celebrations. Claire had gone at first, but then less and less frequently. Beryl knew her mother wasn’t stupid. As much as Edith seemed oblivious in regard to the interactions among her children, she had some sixth sense when it came to Claire. Maybe because she had seen in Claire what Beryl never had, Beryl realized now.
“Um, I really don’t know how Claire is,” Beryl said to her mother, digging through the box in front of her
. “I… I moved out. I’m staying with Ridley.”
“I see,” Edith said.
Something snapped in Beryl’s brain and she turned to her mother.
“Do you, Mom? Do you see?” She could feel her heart pounding. “Do you see that my heart is broken?” It was hard to breathe. “Do you see that I am the one helping you clear out Marian and Nick’s stuff? None of this is mine. They’re not here; I am. I do things and they get the credit. They get the thanks. I get nothing. I got nothing from Claire and I get nothing from you.” Beryl knew she should stop, but now that she had started, she couldn’t. “You might as well know that I wasn’t at a conference last weekend. I was interviewing for a job at Ohio State University, and if they offer it to me, I’ll probably accept.”
She could feel sudden tears stinging her eyes. I will not cry in front of her, Beryl thought fiercely.
“I have to go,” she said, turning to the basement steps.
“What about dinner?” Edith asked.
“I’m not hungry,” Beryl said as she nearly ran up the steps.
Beryl was blocks from the house, wiping her cheeks angrily when her cell phone rang. Expecting it to be her mother, she nearly didn’t look. To her surprise, it was an unfamiliar number, but she recognized an Ohio area code.
“Hello?”
“Beryl? This is Aggie Bishop.”
“Hi.” Beryl stopped in her tracks.
“I hope I’m catching you at an okay time,” Aggie said uncertainly.
Beryl gave a half laugh. “This is perfect timing, actually,” she said. “What can I do for you?”
“Well, your visit got Aunt Cory reminiscing, and…” Aggie paused, sounding hesitant, “before I start back up with school, she would like to visit D.C., so… we’re coming out there tomorrow. I got a hotel room for a few nights. We’ll be doing some museums and monuments, and… we would love to see you if you’re going to be around.”
Before Beryl could respond, Aggie blurted, “I know this is last minute, and if you’re not available, we understand, I just –”
“I’m available,” Beryl cut in. “And I’d love to play tour guide. I live here and I don’t take advantage of the things D.C. has to offer. How are you getting here?”
“I’m driving,” Aggie said. “It’s only seven or eight hours by car, and I think I can find my way to the hotel.”
“Well, pack comfortable shoes because once you’re here, we’ll be walking or taking buses or the Metro,” Beryl said. “Driving and parking is a nightmare. Will Corinne – I mean, Cory – be up to walking, do you think?”
Aggie laughed and it made Beryl smile to hear it. “She could run circles around both of us, probably,” Aggie said.
“Okay, well…” Beryl didn’t really want to end the call, but didn’t know what else to say.
“Can we call you tomorrow when we get to the hotel?” Aggie asked.
“Yes, and after work, I could meet you for dinner?” Beryl suggested.
“That would be great.”
“Can I bring my friend, Ridley?” Beryl asked. “He has been as interested as I have in the mystery of Corinne and Helen. He’ll never forgive me if he finds out you were here and he didn’t get to meet you.”
She could hear Aggie chuckle. “I had no idea my little great-aunt had generated so much intrigue.”
“You have no idea.”
Chapter 22
Cory chatted as they left Columbus, I-70 stretching out in a flat ribbon before them. Aggie smiled. Beryl’s visit, or the return of the book, or the renewal of the memories associated with it – perhaps all of those things – had been a tonic to Aunt Cory. As soon as the idea of a visit to Washington had taken hold, she had wanted to look up things they could see and do while there. She had never been on the internet, and was fascinated at the images that popped up on Aggie’s laptop, as many of the monuments hadn’t existed when she was last there.
“The Roosevelt Memorial,” she had said. “I want to see that.” She smiled. “And the Lincoln. I haven’t seen the Lincoln in almost seventy years.”
What must it feel like to say that? Aggie wondered now during a lull in the conversation as she drove. To want to go see something you haven’t seen in seventy years?
Shannon was watching Percival for the weekend. She’d been properly astonished at Aggie’s tale of Beryl’s unexpected appearance. “You’re kidding,” she kept saying.
“Would you stop saying that?” Aggie said.
“Sorry, it just seems incredible, the whole idea of the book surviving, falling into the hands of someone who would hunt down the owner,” Shannon said, eyeing Aggie closely. “She sounds like she must be… special,” she added, not so subtly.
“Oh, don’t even,” Aggie said, shaking her head. But in spite of her gruffness, an unwilling smile played on her lips, and she said, “But it was kind of sweet. I don’t know what happened to her, but something… something drove her, made her search for Aunt Cory. And Helen. She said she needed to know a relationship could last a lifetime and beyond.”
Shannon watched Aggie’s face closely, and she could see the wistfulness there. Wisely, she kept quiet.
Aggie mused on that conversation as she drove. She glanced over at Aunt Cory who had fallen asleep before they got to Cambridge. She would never admit it to Shannon or Cory or anyone else, but Beryl had touched something inside her. “You’re being stupid,” she scolded herself. “You don’t know anything about her,” but it didn’t stop her from smiling as she remembered the way Beryl had turned to look back at her after almost mowing them over on the sidewalk, or Aggie’s disappointment as she had nearly run down the driveway hoping to find Beryl still standing there, or the surprise when she had opened the front door to find that Aunt Cory’s mystery woman and her own mystery woman were one and the same.
* * *
Ridley rolled his eyes as Beryl checked her cell phone for about the tenth time since lunch. “I think we’ll hear it when it rings,” he said.
Beryl blushed and put her phone down. “It’s just a long trip by car. Cory is in her nineties.”
“Right,” he smirked.
“Oh, shut up,” she said, getting up to restack some journals. She could hear him chuckling as she walked away.
When her phone did ring mid-afternoon, she snatched it up. “Hi.”
“Hi,” said Aggie warmly. “We made it. We’re at the hotel, and I think you’re right. I will be perfectly fine not driving any more in this city.”
Beryl laughed. “Well, why don’t you rest for a couple of hours? You must be tired. Ridley and I get off at five, and we’ll come meet you at your hotel. There’s a wonderful Mexican restaurant only a few blocks from where you are, if you like Mexican. They have great margaritas. Do you mind an early dinner?”
“We love Mexican and we prefer early,” Aggie said. “We’ll meet you in the lobby at… five-thirty? Does that give you enough time to get here?”
“Sounds good,” Beryl said. “We’ll see you then.”
“Bye.”
The rest of the afternoon crawled by for Beryl, who kept looking at the clock and then at her watch.
“They’re not broken,” Ridley said, shaking his head.
Beryl glared at him. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Kind of, yeah,” he admitted happily. His expression became more serious. “It’s nice to see you happy for a change, that’s all.”
When five o’clock finally came, Beryl and Ridley hurried to his car. Traffic snailed along as Beryl sighed impatiently at every red light.
“You’re really going to like them,” she said for about the hundredth time.
“I know I will,” he smiled. “What do you think? Chair or crutches?”
She glanced over at him, surprised that she had never realized what a consideration that choice must be. “At least I have a choice,” Ridley would have said. “Most people don’t.”
Deciding this was a chance for a little pay-back
, she said, “Well, crutches show off your arms more.”
He looked over quickly. “Yeah,” he admitted sheepishly. “But I think I’ll slow us down if we have to go more than a few blocks.”
“Strap them to your chair, so you can switch when we get to the restaurant if you like,” she suggested.
When at last they arrived at the hotel, Ridley found a parking space in the lot. Beryl nervously smoothed her clothes as she got out.
“You look great,” he assured her. She noticed that he himself had chosen his clothes carefully that day, wearing a close-fitting shirt the exact same blue as his eyes. He looked very handsome.
They entered the lobby and immediately spotted Cory and Aggie. If they were surprised to meet Ridley in his wheelchair, they hid it well. Under the pretext of getting out of the traffic flow, Beryl discreetly steered them toward a half-wall in the lobby that separated the reception area from the lounge so that Ridley could stand for introductions, balancing against the wall as he shook hands.
“I’ve wanted to meet you for so long,” he said sincerely to Cory who beamed up at him. Her head barely came to his chest. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
“I’m ready for a margarita,” she said as he laughed.
Beryl and Aggie followed behind while Cory walked alongside Ridley as they made their way down the crowded sidewalk.
“The drive was okay?” Beryl asked.
“A little tiring,” Aggie admitted, “but not bad.”
They walked half a block in awkward silence.
“Where do you work?” Aggie asked, looking around curiously as if she expected a library to pop up.
“Georgetown University,” Beryl replied. “Ridley and I work together at the Lauinger, it’s the humanities library.”
“Why do you want to leave?” Aggie asked.
“I don’t, really,” Beryl admitted, “but I love old books, and Ohio State has an opening in its Rare Books and Manuscripts Library, so…” She shrugged. “We’ll see. I’ve lived in D.C. my entire life. It would feel strange to leave.”
“I know how you feel,” Aggie said. “I’ve lived in Columbus my whole life. Went to OSU. It’s not great, but it’s familiar.”
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