Wrapped Up In A Weeping Willow

by Tonya Kappes

  “Did you bring it?” Harper frantically asked about the Bible.

  “I did.” Benji’s dark eyes popped. “I’m not gonna lie; you look bad.”

  “Yes.” Harper put out her hand. “You’ve told me that multiple times. Can I have it?”

  Without a word, Benji pulled his messenger bag from around his shoulder and dug out the old, tattered and torn family Bible.

  “Thank you, thank you.” Harper took it from his hands and kissed it several times before opening it.

  The stack of one-hundred-dollar bills fell out into her lap. She licked her finger and began to count.

  “What the hell?” Benji’s jaw dropped.

  “Before I ran out of the house, I grabbed my Bible on the foyer table. There was a vase next to it.” She held the money in the air. “I knew Rob put the extra cash from his pockets in there when he got home. So I took it and stuck it in the Bible after my tirade.”

  “No wonder you were insistent on getting your Bible.” Benji shook his head.

  “Plus these.” She took a stack of letters from the back of the Bible. She brought them, from the Coach, to her chest and hugged them like a long-lost friend as every nerve leaped and shuddered within her. These meant more to her than the money. “I would’ve never forgiven myself if I lost them or they’d gotten into the wrong hands, if you know what I mean.”

  It was one of the fond memories she had between her and the Coach. They wrote back and forth for several years, but over the past six months, her letters to him had been returned and she never received any more from him. He, too, had finally turned his back on her. They only thing she could think of was that all the broken promises she had made him about coming home for a visit had gotten to him. She had no plans to go home. Ever.

  “If only.” Harper sat down on the bed, opened the Bible, and fondled the letters. “If only I had gone to see him.” A couple of pictures fell out into her lap.

  For some reason, her family didn’t use safes to keep important documents safe, like the Ellingtons; they used their Bibles.

  “Did they steal your Bible?” was the first question even the police asked people in Hudson Hollow if their place had been broken into. It was just one tradition from which Harper had yet to break free.

  “Seen who, honey?” Benji walked around, running his finger along the furniture in the room.

  “The Coach.” Harper sighed, stuffing the photos, letters, and money back in the back of the Bible. She ran her hands over the cracked white cover before she used her fingertip to trace what was left of the gold lettering.

  “This ain’t really a bad place.” Benji noticed the quality of the furniture wasn’t Walmart, but it wasn’t Havertys either. Something more along the lines of a Furniture Fair quality: not the best, but not the worst. He stood up and tapped the desk. “You should take advantage of your off time: look out at that pretty view and think up some new topics for the show.”

  “We’re calling it off time?” Harper giggled, knowing it was a Sid term, not a Benji one. “So, Sid got to you?” Looking up at him, Harper slowly nodded her head up and down. Her lips pursed, her eyes narrowed. She was doing her best to keep it together.

  “You know how those types are.” He twirled his hand in the air and put it on his hips. “They are out to make the sponsors happy. And what do you want her to call it? ‘Harper Ellington went crazy’? I can see the headlines now.” He drew his hands in the air and spread them open like he was debuting a new Broadway show or as if Harper’s name was in lights. “‘Harper Ellington, queen of Real Talk, can’t keep her man happy, much less give advice.’”

  “Shit,” Harper said in a low, composed voice. “I didn’t ask you to be so honest.”

  “Harper, honey.” Benji tucked his hands in the front pockets of his skinny khaki jeans. His blue short-sleeve button-down was buttoned all the way up. Harper wasn’t particularly fond of this style, but Benji wore it well. He looked scholarly with his large, black-rimmed glasses. “Someone is going to have to stop tiptoeing around you and tell you what’s what.”

  “I guess you’re the man for that.” Harper smiled. It was the first time her heart had actually felt warm since she had been there.

  “Girl, we haven’t been friends this long without being completely honest.” He stood next to the window. The day was giving way to night with a yawning peace. “Rob Ellington is an asshole. The media is swarming like wasps to get a glimpse of you. He has threatened to go straight to a press conference if you don’t comply. He’s insisting on marriage counseling.”

  “What?” Harper ground the word out between her teeth. The lawyers hadn’t told her that yet. “Sid conveniently left that out.”

  “He ain’t ready to give up his dirty-talking woman.” Benji winked. “What do you say?”

  “Am I hearing you right?” Harper had stiffened, as though he had struck her. This was how she had seen Rob do business over the course of the years and get what he wanted. She used to be entertained by it, not used to being the recipient.

  “I’m just saying that I know you and you will sit in here and beat yourself up about the what-if-you-did-this and what-if-you-did- that, what would be different. Honey,” a laugh escaped his lips, “this ain’t college. We aren’t eating ramen noodles anymore. You are used to caviar and champagne. The kept woman. Let me tell you, when you marry a man with the kind of money Rob Ellington has and the life he can afford you, the what ifs go out the door and you welcome the whatever-is-going-to-happen-is-going-to-happen with a big, wide southern grin on that pretty little face of yours, pearls in your ear, and that big pink diamond on your finger.” Benji held the diamond out in his palm. “Because Harper Ellington, you loved your life before the last couple of weeks and everyone knew he was banging the psychic for months. Even you, if you step back and think about it.”

  It took everything in Harper’s five foot five, one hundred and twenty-five pound frame not to sock Benji in the face.

  “I wasn’t brought up to accept a cheating husband.” Harper remained calm though her insides were boiling. She snatched the diamond out of his hand and grasped it. “I can’t promise you anything.”

  “Oh, now we are going back to the holler and how we grew up? You gonna go work for Mama and Daddy? Girl,” Benji said in his best Southern twang and shook his head, “those days are long gone. You were the one who made sure that bridge was not only burned but the ashes dissolved in the water below.”

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” Harper had toyed with the idea of starting over, but where? There probably wasn’t a radio market around that would take her. And she didn’t want to go back to working for her parents’ realty business. Radio was all she knew. She reached out and put her hand on Benji’s arm. “I’m so sorry. I messed this up for both of us.”

  Without a radio show and Harper Ellington, Benji would be without a job, and they both knew how much he spent on shoes and clothes. And not from the secondhand store either. Neiman Marcus knew Benji by name and phone number. When they got something in they knew he would love, they didn’t bother calling him; they sent him a text.

  “Aw.” He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. “Don’t worry about me. We’ve been through tough times before.”

  “Yeah, but never this tough.” She suddenly regretted how she’d handled Rob. If only she’d secretly poisoned him, she’d still be sitting pretty in her studio. “What about Boby?” Harper asked about Benji’s boy toy.

  “It seems I was just the flavor of the season.” Benji rolled his eyes and picked at his fingernails. “My season is over. I don’t have anything to offer him now that I’m unemployed.”

  “That’s too bad.” Deep down, Harper had known Boby was just a tease and stringing Benji along anyway. Boby loved tagging along when Harper had a gig and Benji was there to make sure everything went okay. It wasn’t shocking news, but she still hated it for Benji.

  “Are you going to stop this nonsense and go back to your life?”
Benji protested.

  “I want to thank you for stopping by and bringing me my Bible.” Harper stood and walked to the door. Her fists were clutched, the ring still in her palm. She wasn’t going to be able to keep her good southern manners in check if Benji kept pressing her. Something both he knew and she knew. Losing her cool while a patient at Pine Crest twice in one day probably wasn’t the best idea. Instead, she smiled and graciously gave him his marching orders. “Be sure to stop by soon.”

  Benji bit the inside of his lip. She was on to him and they both knew it. He’d been sent there by Sid and Rob to get her to see things their way so life could to go back to normal. Well, it wasn’t normal. Harper didn’t even know what normal was anymore.

  Chapter Six

  Harper grabbed a MoonPie and opened an Ale-8. She sat down on the bed and stuck the bottle between her knees. Her mouth watered at the crinkling sound of the cellophane wrap as her fingers pulled it apart and the smell of the chocolate treat swirled around her nose. She tucked away the stray strand of her colored blond hair that had fallen out of the loose ponytail behind her ear and brought the treat up to her lips. The ring glistened on the bedside table, reminding her of Rob’s guilt.

  “Everyone knew about the affair,” Harper said to the MoonPie, repeating Benji’s words. “Asshole.” She took another bite.

  She had requested that Rob pack up what items they could salvage from the house. He had sent a message saying all her things had been bought with his money and now she could go back to living on junk. She made a lot of money. Her money was direct-deposited into their account. An account she never saw because they had people who took care of those things. She was regretting that now.

  MoonPies and Ale-8s were her choice of food group when not having to worry about her body, and obviously she wasn’t going on any talk show or radio tours anytime soon.

  The word around the facility was a private room like hers was four hundred dollars a night. A pretty penny she was sure Rob was fronting, until he figured out she wasn’t coming back. Benji and Sid’s words all but confirmed that. Rob was stupid enough to think she’d fall for his tomfoolery. He was wrong even though her situation was looking bleak.

  “Maybe I could go back to him and hide money so I can quietly leave the marriage,” Harper said and took another bite of the MoonPie. A satisfied sigh left her lips after she bit down into the hard chocolate outer shell, sinking her teeth into the creamy filling, enjoying every bit of the sweet treat.

  Harper didn’t feel like being part of the group coloring book activity. It was almost ten p.m., which meant it was lights out for everyone. Something she was actually looking forward to.

  Most of the people in the facility had drug or alcohol addictions. As far as Harper could tell, no one had jumped on the crazy, burn-down-my-house wagon, leaving her an outsider.

  Even if she had decided to hang out where the television was, everyone would be on their electronic device, still making her an outcast. Plus she didn’t want to interact with the young girl who’d made her feel like she was taking a picture of her.

  “Maybe I am crazy.” Harper bit her lip, turned off the light on the nightstand, and stared out of the window. If the counselors walked by at ten and saw her light was out, they wouldn’t bother her.

  She lay in the dark going over what Benji had said to her. Going back to Rob would be the easiest thing to do and would get her life back, but Harper had never done easy or what others thought was best for her. Her gut told her not to give in, but her mind was logical.

  She was okay with her life. Really okay, not extremely happy but okay, before she found Melanie and Rob together. Marriages had lasted through affairs. She couldn’t help but wonder if she would last. Her true self. She didn’t want to become like those other women in her women’s group who kept busy while their husbands were gone on “business lunches” when everyone in the club knew what that meant. Business lunch was code for an affair.

  Harper recalled a handful of times over the past few months when Rob had called during the day, saying he’d just come from a business lunch. Was that his code for screwing Melanie?

  It was only a couple of months ago that Harper had found the lipstick on Rob’s shirt. Melanie had conveniently showed up at their door, and now Harper couldn’t help but assume it was Melanie’s lipstick and Rob had told her to come over to give Harper a fake reading as to why there was lipstick on the shirt.

  Melanie could’ve told Harper the sky was red and Harper would’ve believed her. Of course she believed that a drunken woman had fallen on Rob’s shoulder at the bar.

  Harper began to beat herself up mentally. How on earth could she have been so stupid? She wondered if everyone was right and she did need to be in Pine Crest for treatment.

  These people believed it was okay for an affair every now and then, and Harper had surrounded herself with these people over the past five years. But this was not the kind of thinking her mama and daddy had instilled in her.

  Harper didn’t want an unlimited bank account for Rob to throw money at her or lavish her with gifts every time he cheated and felt guilty. She wanted unlimited love, with a man who only wanted her. Even if there was no money.

  She rolled onto her side, her hands together and under her face, and looked out the window.

  Outside, in the dark night, fireflies darted in the courtyard. The full moon hung high in the sky surrounded by twinkling stars. She pulled a pillow under her head, dreamily gazing out at the wonders of the universe.

  “Why wish on a star when you can pray to the one who made them?” The words escaped her lips. Words she hadn’t thought about and hadn’t crossed her lips in years.

  Harper smiled, remembering the many nights she lay under the weeping willow tree at the coach’s farm, squinting between the branches, making wishes on every shooting star that swept through the darkness. Many times the Coach would tell her not to waste words on a star but to pray to God, something she seemed to have lost along the way.

  “Dear God,” Harper whispered. She curled up in a ball, keeping her eyes on the outside world. “I know I have not been around for a long time, but from what I learned from church, you are always here.” She remembered the poem about the footprints in the sand that hung on one of the Sunday school room’s wall. “I’m guessing you are carrying me now, because I need you.”

  As she began to pour her heart out, tears streamed down her face. She closed her eyes and spoke from the emotions boiling up inside her.

  “My life is a mess. I have been so rebellious. So determined to be the author of my life that I didn’t care who or what got in my way. If you want me to go back to Rob or go in a different direction, I’m asking you to make good on your promise to open the doors that I need to walk through and close the door that needs to be closed.”

  Harper blinked her eyes a couple of times and swallowed hard. A light tapping had woken her. She rubbed her eyes. The clock read two a.m. and she realized she must’ve fallen asleep.

  “Great,” she groaned. “Fell asleep praying.” She rolled her eyes. “Just like old times.”

  Harper was never good at saying prayers. Every night her parents had her say the redundant prayer, Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. She never made it past the first sentence. She always fell asleep.

  The light tap that had woke her up got a little louder and a shadow passed across the moon from the outside.

  “What on earth?” She sat real still and squinted, looking at the figure. “Benji?” She jumped up, knowing this was so a Benji move.

  He couldn’t stand for her to be mad at him. She was sure that after he left, he realized he was wrong and was going to stand by her no matter what her life turned out to be.

  He waved when he saw he’d gotten her attention.

  She jumped up and opened the window, exposing the screen.

  “I knew you would be back.” She sucked in a d
eep breath of the crisp pre-fall, fresh air as it rushed through the open window.

  “I didn’t believe it,” the voice cracked and the head bent down, the deep lines around the crystal blue eyes squinting to get a good view at her. “It is you.”

  The moon shone down on the man like a flashlight. The silver crew cut sparkled.

  “Coach?” Her composure became a fragile shell around her. “Papaw, is that you?”

  “Poppy seed, what on earth is going on?” The Coach took out a box cutter knife and slid it open. He ran it along the edges of the metal screen just enough so it could be pushed down into a triangle. “I saw on that TV show that you was in trouble. I couldn’t believe my eyes, and sure enough it was you. I knew you needed me.” He stuck his hand out in front of him. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

  Harper’s chest heaved up and down. She was never so happy to hear her nickname come out of the Coach’s mouth. She looked at the offered hand. The strong, meaty hand she was used to seeing was now spotted brown, veins popping, wrinkly, paper-thin skin attached to her papaw. Her rock.

  She held up a finger. She grabbed the pillow, shaking the pillowcase off of it. Quickly, she gathered all her belongings, including the ring, and threw it into the pillowcase. She snagged the Bible off the nightstand before slinging it over her shoulder.

  “Wait.” The Coach stopped her. The hand was no longer extended but pointing behind her. “Grab them MoonPies and those Ale-8s. We have a little bit of a drive.”

  Harper smiled and laughed gently. She was sure this wasn’t a good idea, but it sure did feel good. She did what the Coach told her to do, throwing the MoonPies in the pillowcase and grabbing the six-pack handle of Ale-8 before she escaped out of the window.

  “The Caddy?” Harper whispered when she saw the 1959 Cadillac Coupe de Ville the Coach had won from a raffle ticket celebrating the first car dealership in Hudson Hollow.

  Of course Harper wasn’t born when the Coach had won, but it was a big, legendary tale in their small town. That was the biggest prize someone from Hudson Hollow had ever won. On any given day, you could walk into the corner grocery store, mosey up to the counter, and hear someone talking about the day the Coach won the Caddy.