Hope Returns

by Dorey Whittaker

“Well,” Estelle responded, “that was a little harder. At first neither one of them would go for it. Our son wasn’t willing to give up Marla, nor was he willing to walk away from his political future, so he came around faster than she did. That was when I agreed to start paying her for her silence. Harold, you know that money talks and it was talking her language. It worked for five years.

  “Michael agreed to start dating Hope during her senior year of college as long as I agreed to cover for him when he went to meet with Marla. It seemed like a good plan. Hope was as naive as her mother and didn’t ask many questions. He didn’t love her and that was all this Marla cared about. Everyone was happy – until last spring.”

  Harold was now very confused. “You mean when Hope took off for Atlanta?”

  Frustrated, Estelle retorted, “Same time, different reason, Harold. You see, if everything stayed status quo we would have been home free. Michael found it easy to keep Hope in line. If she balked at something, all I had to do was take Jean out to lunch and drop a little hint and she would run home and work on Hope. I had done such a good job of convincing Jean this was the best life path for her daughter, she never had a clue she was being manipulated.”

  Harold turned to Estelle and asked, “So what changed the status quo?”

  “Marla did,” Estelle declared with all the bitterness of a woman unaccustomed to not getting her own way. “Last May, Marla’s husband and oldest daughter were killed in a car accident. Remember when Michael decided to go on the unscheduled ski trip last May? He was really in San Francisco with Marla. That is why he didn’t make a fuss when Hope decided to take off for Atlanta. He was glad to have her out of his hair for a few days, but then she returned sooner than he expected and Marla wanted to change the plans.”

  “Change it how?” Harold quipped. “Does this Marla think he is going to marry her? How old is this woman anyway?”

  “Harold, there is no way he can marry this woman. She is eight years older than him. She was married before and the daughter who died in that accident was from a messy affair. There is not enough money in the world to clean her up sufficiently to pass muster with the press. That is just not going to happen but Michael is absolutely under her control and will not listen to me.”

  “Estelle, this is entirely your fault. For Michael’s whole life you have dominated him. You actually suck the oxygen out of every room you enter. He was never allowed a dream or a goal that was not orchestrated by you. You taught him to accept your will as his own. You trained him to knuckle under to your will. So why are you so surprised that he would find another you—his normal. The only difference between the two of you is that she could offer him affection and sex, and he likes his new normal.”

  Estelle was finally out of answers. “So, Harold, what do we do now?”

  “I don’t think there is anything we can do now. Marla is in the driver’s seat and our son is her passenger.” Then Harold thought for a moment and said, “Estelle, we have spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on his campaign and it is all going up in flames. Do you think this Marla has a number in mind? Everyone can be bought. It is just a matter of finding their price.”

  “But, Harold, even if we could pay this woman off, I don’t think either Michael or Hope will go through with this loveless marriage. Lots of people join together for the perks that come with marriage. You and I certainly did.”

  Harold quickly agreed, “Yes, we did. You wanted my name and connections.”

  “And you wanted my family money,” quipped Estelle. “But the difference is, you and I both knew what we wanted and were willing to negotiate a marriage deal that satisfied what we both wanted. Hope has no interest in politics and she doesn’t seem to care about the financial benefits of becoming a Gundersol. She actually wants Michael to love her. He, on the other hand, still wants his political future but does not want to pay the price for it. Our stupid boy seems to think he can have both worlds.”

  Harold paced the floor trying to figure out his next move. “So where is he right now?”

  Frustrated by her lack of control in this new situation, Estelle barked, “He is out trying to track down Marla. Apparently she has been in town for the past three days and has been stalking Hope. Last night on the drive over here, Hope told him about this reporter who keeps following her around, but when she described the car he knew exactly who it was. That was who he was talking to on the phone last night.”

  “So Marla is here in LA? How did Michael know where to reach her?” questioned Harold.

  “Because she always stays at the same motel when she comes down here to be with him,” Estelle snapped with all the venom she could muster. “From the little bit I overheard of their conversation, she is on a rampage of destruction and Michael is in a panic. Only now does he realize that she is actually willing to destroy his future if she does not get her way. He is convinced that she intends to expose all of this to Hope in order to blow up the wedding plans. He thinks she would even go so far as to go directly to the papers and spill everything if he won’t call it off.”

  Pondering this new twist, Harold warned, “I can’t believe this mess. For years I worried that my son was gay. Not knowing about Marla and watching how coldly he treated Hope, I suspected he was just trying to keep his secret under wraps. Others have also questioned this and I have spent tons of money keeping a lid on those suspicions. Estelle, calling off the wedding might quiet Marla down a little longer, but it will cause the suspicions to come back up again. I don’t see any way out for him. He has made a real mess of things.”

  “Harold, I think we can still salvage the plan. Marla can be bought off, I know it. Once she settles down, Michael will be able to think straight again and he will come around. He wants his future as much as we do and he knows about the rumors. As soon as we get Marla packed off I will invite Jean and Dan over for a nice dinner. I need Jean working on Hope while I work on Michael.”

  Harold stood up in disgust and started for the door, then turned and ended this conversation saying, “Well, our son might be stupid enough to think he can have both worlds, but that illegitimate kid of his will never be a Gundersol and that woman is never to step foot in this house. Estelle, you better let go of some of that family money that got you here and send that woman packing, and quick.” With this declaration, Harold turned back toward the door.

  Only half joking, Estelle voiced her sinister thought out loud, “Too bad that wasn’t Marla in that car accident last spring. Come to think of it, it would cost us a whole lot less to arrange a fatal accident with a certain maroon Chrysler than to try to pay her off.”

  Just before slamming the door behind him, Harold thundered, “Just take care of it, Estelle, and I don’t care how.”

  Chapter 24

  The second day of January began with a bang—literally. Ben and Lisa both sat up out of a sound sleep at the pounding at their bedroom door. “Dad, are you awake?”

  Ben fired back, “I am now, Benny. What is so all fired important it couldn’t wait until breakfast?”

  “Dad, get dressed and come into the living room,” Benny pleaded.

  Ben grabbed his robe and headed to the living room to find out what was bothering his son. Before he had a chance to ask, Benny shoved the newspaper at him and said, “Dad, read the front page.”

  Ben only got through the first paragraph before taking off down the hallway to his bedroom. Lisa was almost dressed when he entered their room with a look on his face that made her want to run. “What is it, Ben?”

  Ben handed the paper to Lisa and then put his arm around her for moral support as she read the headline:

  The Georgia Observer

  Serving the citizens of Jefferson, Georgia for over 100 Years

  TWO LOCAL LADIES MUGGED AT GUN POINT

  Sunday, January 2, 1986 – Jefferson, Georgia. Late yesterday, Ruth Bascom and another elderly lady who does not want to be identified, were found beaten and robbed at the home of Ruth Bascom, 741 Chestnut Street, J
efferson, Georgia. A neighbor man said he heard loud voices coming from Mrs. Bascom’s house and saw two young men running from the property around eight o’clock last night. As he entered her open back door he could see both women lying on the kitchen floor, badly beaten. Police were immediately called to the scene and both women were taken to Jefferson Memorial where they were treated and released. Ruth Bascom is the owner of Bascom’s Bakery and it is suspected that these young men thought there might be cash hidden at the house. The police have a good description of both suspects and their get-away car.

  Practically hysterical, Lisa cried, “Ben, why didn’t someone call us?”

  “I’m so sorry, Lisa, apparently they did. We didn’t get here until almost eleven o’clock last night and I didn’t think about checking my answering machine. Right after Benny went out front to pick up the morning paper he checked the answering machine and there were two messages from Gladys saying they are both okay and are back at her house. You finish getting dressed so we can get over there.”

  “They were probably over at Ruth’s house packing for the move. We need to get Ruth out of that house today. We can close the bakery for a few more days and all of us can get her packed and cleared out in a day or two.”

  “Lisa, first things first, we need to get over there and make sure they are both okay. Grab your shoes and put them on in the car. After we have made sure they are okay we will worry about some kind of breakfast and put together a moving plan.”

  Lisa, Ben and Benny walked into Gladys’s kitchen at seven a.m. and were not really prepared for what greeted them. Sweet, kind, gracious Gladys Carter was standing at her sink with a huge shiner on her right eye and her left arm was in a sling, but still she greeted them with a warm smile. “It is not as bad as it looks, Lisa. It could have been so much worse.” Signaling them to keep their voices down, Gladys said, “Ruth is still asleep. The doctor said that thug separated her left shoulder when he twisted her arm demanding she tell him where she had hidden her bakery money.”

  Ben pulled out a kitchen chair and told Gladys to take a seat. “Gladys, let me make the coffee. You sit down and tell us all about it. How did you get hurt?”

  Gladys started to chuckle as she admitted, “Actually, this is my fault. The thug never touched me. When Ruth fainted from the pain of having her shoulder pulled out of the joint, both those boys took off running. At that point I simply lost my head. I was so frightened, all I could think about was getting to the phone and calling the police.” With a little smirk, Gladys lifted her sling and admitted, “I tripped over Ruth’s leg running for the phone, hit my cheekbone on the corner of her kitchen counter and knocked myself silly. I guess when I fell I tried to use my arm to brace myself and jammed my elbow. It is nothing that won’t heal. It is Ruth that was really hurt.”

  While sitting in Gladys’s kitchen chatting, Benny produced the front page article. “Aunt Gladys, why didn’t you want your name in the paper? It just says ‘another elderly woman who wants to remain anonymous.’“

  Knowing what she was about to say would send Lisa into panic mode, Gladys picked her words very carefully. “You see, Benny, when those thugs left they took my purse.”

  “You mean they took all your money?” Benny missed the real danger here but Ben and Lisa did not.

  Getting up quickly and heading for the phone, Ben announced, “I’m calling a locksmith and having all the locks changed this morning, Then Benny and I are going down to Hodges’ Hardware Store and get security locks for all the windows, and I am installing a floodlight as well.”

  Lisa quickly agreed, saying, “Gladys, it was foolish of you and Ruth to come here last night knowing those criminals have your I.D. That means they know where you live, and they have your house keys. How could you sleep here last night knowing this?”

  “Because, Lisa, there was a police car out front all night.” Turning back to Ben who was busy looking up a locksmith, Gladys asked, “Ben, you know Maxwell Grover, don’t you? When Max was a young boy, Ruth and Tobias had been his Youth Leaders. He didn’t ask permission. His shift was up so he just parked himself out front to make his presence very obvious. He left a few minutes before you got here.”

  “Sure I do, Gladys, but the Captain would never spend payroll funds assigning Max to sit sentry on your house.”

  “That’s exactly what Max said when he was ordered to drive us home from the hospital last night.

  Then remembering her car, Gladys asked, “Ben, on your way back from Hodges could you take my spare car key off Lisa’s key ring and let Benny drive my car back here? I don’t want to leave it over in Ruth’s neighborhood any longer than I have to.”

  “Sure will, Gladys, I’d be happy to.”

  Lisa knew Ruth would have to approve the closing of the bakery for two more days before talking about putting together a moving party so Lisa did not mention their plans to Gladys. Sipping her coffee, Lisa decided to read the article that started her day with such a panic. After reading it, her eyes glanced down the page where a familiar name jumped off the page at her.

  District Attorney, Stanley Riggs, vows to bring former-Prosecutor Gordon to trial

  Months of vigorous negotiations on Gordon’s part have proven fruitless. Riggs continues to promise justice to the citizens of Jefferson, Georgia. To quote the District Attorney, “My office will offer no plea-bargain to Gordon. We have a tentative trial date set for early April.”

  Lisa made a mental note to call Hope later that day to see if she was aware of the trial date, but right now she needed to focus on Gladys. Benny was given the task of making toast, while Ben scrambled some eggs. Lisa set the kitchen table and Gladys was ordered to stay put.

  As soon as the table was set, Lisa slipped out of the room and made a phone call to Atlanta. Bill Thomas needed to hear this news from family. As expected, Bill and Caroline promised to clear their calendar and drive down that afternoon. The second phone call was to Scott and Susan. Susan offered to help Lisa pack up her things and move them over to Ben’s, while Caroline was assigned the task of keeping Gladys and Ruth comfortable and out of the way. Scott and Bill were to help Ben and Benny pack up Ruth’s house. With all these people helping, it would not take long to pack all of Ruth’s personal belongings and get her settled in. Selling her furniture and putting the house up for sale could wait; Ruth’s safety was the primary concern for now.

  An hour later Benny carefully pulled Gladys’s car into her garage, locked the doors and brought the keys into the kitchen and laid them on the table. “Hi, Mrs. Bascom, sorry to hear about what happened to you last night.”

  Ruth, still quite groggy from the painkillers the doctor had prescribed, replied, “Thank you, Benny. I am just grateful to be alive. To tell you the truth, I think those boys were actually more frightened than I was.”

  Angry at any words of sympathy, Benny retorted, “Good, I hope they are frightened at the prospect of jail time, too. I just don’t understand how God could let this happen to you two, of all people.”

  Ruth reached over and patted Benny’s hand as she said, “God isn’t responsible for what happened yesterday. God isn’t Santa Claus, keeping a list of who is naughty or nice. God never promised us that we would be free of all the bad stuff. Benny, we live in a broken world. Broken people do terrible things to people.”

  “But, Mrs. Bascom,” pleaded Benny, “if God can’t protect His own children, what are we supposed to do?”

  “Benny, God can and does protect His children most of the time, but sometimes, for reasons we do not understand, He says, ‘I’m going to allow this in your life and I want you to trust me. I want you to respond with all the grace that I can pour into your life. This sick world needs some beacons of light that will shine with my grace and mercy. Who better to shine that light than those of you who live in that light every day?’ Benny, we are to trust Him. Trust that He will give us the strength to be His light to all these broken and damaged people. Do you think those boys could steal my mos
t valuable possessions, Benny?”

  “They sure tried and look how they hurt you,” Benny responded.

  “Yes they surely did hurt me,” Ruth agreed. “But Benny, I am safe in the perfect will of my heavenly Father—my most prized possession—while they are lost, blind, frightened, and wasting their lives. I am not saying they should not be tracked down and face the consequences of their actions. They need to be stopped before they take a life that is not ready to face their Creator, or before someone ends their life before they are ready to face their Creator.

  “Benny, bitterness is a root that grows quickly and takes over our lives. Accusing God of failing us because we cannot see His bigger plan is telling God He cannot be trusted. I, for one, refuse to allow some young punks to limit, or define, my ability to trust in a God who has proven Himself over and over in my life. Benny, that would be giving those punks way too much power in my life.”

  Benny pondered Ruth’s answer for several moments before replying. “Ms. Ruth, when someone hurts those you love, it is hard to remember that when the Bible says, ‘For God so loved the world…’ it includes them as well. It is easy when I am sitting in church, but here, facing their wreckage, it is a lot harder.”

  “Benny, do you think God has favorites? Can God be holy if He plays favorites? When you hear about someone suffering through some tragedy, do you ever think, ‘Why wasn’t that me’ or do you just ask that question when it is you who is facing a tragedy? If God so loved the world is only true for His favorites, then God is not holy. If it isn’t true now, when we are the targets of a tragedy, then it isn’t true when we sit in the safety of our church pew. God loves all of us all of the time. The worse these broken people behave the more it shows just how much they need to be told that they need a Savior, right?”

  “Right,” Benny smiled in agreement.

  By six that evening Lisa and Susan had all of Lisa’s things packed and over at Ben’s place. Lisa brought in the last box from the car and suggested, “Let’s not waste time unpacking right now. The guys should be finishing up at Ruth’s house and I want to be at the house when they get there.”