by Debby Mayne
Bethany had known the Sprockett family all of her life, and she’d spent many hours at their house. Miss Gertie had made sure all of Pete’s friends felt welcome by preparing platters of snacks and setting extra places at the table if the fun lasted until mealtime. No one cared that she stretched the meals with extra potatoes and rice because they loved Pete’s mom. Between Miss Gertie and her mother, most of the kids in Bethany’s crowd stayed well fed and entertained.
Her mother had tried to get Pete’s mom more involved in the garden club, but Miss Gertie had always said someone needed to watch the kids while their mothers were off beautifying Bloomfield. Now that she was ready to commit the time, the garden club was making her jump through all kinds of hoops. Bethany knew the only reason they did so was because they could, and if Miss Gertie put her foot down, she’d be fine. The group needed more hands to accomplish their goal of making the town desirable enough to boost the population to ten thousand. They consistently hovered close to that number, but they’d never quite made it, because as soon as a baby was born, someone would move or pass away.
Bethany was tempted to go as she was, but she hadn’t seen Miss Gertie and Mr. Frank in a while, so she decided to change into something a little nicer than her yard work jeans and bank-issued T-shirt. A quick glance in the bathroom mirror let her know she needed a little color on her face, or she’d risk having Naomi—or worse, Miss Gertie—ask if she wasn’t feeling well. So she brushed a light dusting of powder blush over her cheeks and smeared on a bit of coral lipstick. Fortunately, she’d just gotten her hair cut, and her blonde waves fell in some semblance of order over her shoulders.
At a quarter to six, she headed out to pick up Naomi. As she drove through the downtown section of Bloomfield, she took long, deep breaths. The town hadn’t changed much since her childhood, but Bethany had changed beyond anything she ever would have imagined. Once upon a time, she’d imagined she and Charlie would move back into his family’s home after he retired, and she would jump into the Bloomfield Garden Club with gusto. He used to laugh at that notion, reminding her that as soon as they moved into their house, all the flowers died.
Rows of potted evergreens lined the sidewalks on either side of the faded red-brick road. Shop owners still posted signs in their windows announcing specials and help wanted. Young Bloomfield residents rarely relied on the Internet for their first jobs, because they did things the old-fashioned way, just as their parents and grandparents had done before them. They would take off on foot downtown and ask managers and shop owners to hire them. In a town the size of Bloomfield, reputations were stronger than references, so no one had to wait for an answer.
Bethany had held a variety of part-time jobs when she was a teenager, including one summer at the Lake Bliss Retirement Center dining room, which eventually led to busing tables at the Pink Geranium Tea Room and then being a courier for City Hall. All her work lessons had been valuable, but the one lesson that stood out the most was that her mother was considered eccentric—even by quirky Bloomfield standards—something she’d learned when people forgot whose daughter she was.
Bethany drove around the town square toward the Lake Bliss Retirement Village where her mother lived. As she passed the Fontainbleu Apartments where quite a few of her unmarried friends and some of the younger adults from town lived, she noticed Pete pulling out of the parking lot. If she didn’t own her former in-laws’ house, she might have enjoyed some of the amenities of apartment life. But realistically, she probably wouldn’t have taken advantage of most of them, and she doubted there would be enough room for all of her mementos.
Everything about the Lake Bliss Retirement Village, affectionately called the Village by its residents, was immaculate—from the freshly paved and marked visitor parking lot to the butterfly, vegetable, and herb gardens scattered throughout the property. The Village golf course was pristine and well managed. Naomi lived in the farthest building from the parking lot, but Bethany knew better than to ask if she should drive around to pick her up. Active in Zumba for Seniors, garden club activities, helping construct playgrounds with hopes of attracting more families with children, and her daily meddling wherever she saw the need, Naomi prided herself on staying in shape.
Just as Bethany pulled into a parking spot and got out of her car, she saw her mother running toward her.
“Get back in. I don’t want to be late,” Naomi said as she opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat. “Took you long enough to get here.”
“You said to be here by six. I thought you wanted to show me some of the gardens.”
Naomi frowned and then nodded as she got out of the car. “Okay, so you’re on time. C’mon, and I’ll show you the gardens.” She pointed as they walked along the edge of the parking lot. “See the butterfly garden over there? We just finished planting some asters and zinnias along the northeast edge.”
“Nice.”
“Wanna go look at the vegetables?” Naomi fidgeted with the hem of her jacket.
“Isn’t it a little early to be planting all these gardens? What if there’s another frost?”
Naomi shrugged. “That’s a chance we like to take. If we have a frost, we just have to replant. If we don’t, we’re ahead of the game.”
“Such gamblers.” Bethany chuckled.
“Yeah, that’s how we roll around here. Throw caution to the wind and take a ride on the wild side—that’s what we always say.”
“So tell me what Miss Gertie is up to.”
Naomi’s head snapped around. “What’re you talking about? What makes you think she’s up to something?”
“Um . . . I didn’t mean anything by that. I just—”
“Oh, never mind. Let’s just go, okay?” Naomi turned and started toward the car.
“Sure.” Bethany followed her mother.
The look of steely determination on Naomi’s face as they buckled their seat belts sent an alarm buzzing through Bethany. She knew the signs of her mother’s scheming, and the signs today were flashing neon.
Bethany backed the car out of the spot as soon as Naomi had her seat belt buckled. “What’s going on?”
Naomi smoothed her shirt and then fidgeted with the gift bag in her lap. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She cleared her throat. “Today was beautiful, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” Bethany hoped it would remain that way.
As she drove toward the Sprockett house, Naomi chattered about all kinds of insignificant things—from the weather to fashion, which she hadn’t cared about for as long as Bethany could remember. Something was definitely going on, but Bethany knew her mother wouldn’t let on until she was good and ready.
Chapter 2
Why are you pacing, Mom?” Pete grabbed a stick of celery and shoved it into his mouth. “Don’t be silly. I’m not pacing.”
Pete swallowed, leaned against the kitchen counter, and folded his arms. “Then what are you doing?”
“Getting dinner ready.” She motioned her head toward the door. “Do me a favor and get a couple of the folding chairs from the garage.”
All of Pete’s life, his mother invited anyone to dinner who didn’t have other plans, even when money was tight, so it was no surprise she was expecting more folks. What puzzled him was her nervousness. Normally, she was relaxed enough to hold a decent conversation, but now her nerves appeared to be strung tighter than a fiddle. He pondered the possibilities as he found the chairs and carried them into the kitchen. Maybe his parents had an announcement, and Mom was worried about how he’d take it.
He remembered when one of his buddies got the news that his parents had sold the house, bought an RV, and planned to travel around the country for the next year. Somehow, that didn’t seem like something Mom and Dad would do.
“Dad said you were cooking a pot roast. What’s all this other stuff?”
“Put that chair over ther
e.” She nodded. “I just want to make sure we have enough food, and the pot roast will only stretch so far.”
Pete followed his mother’s orders, placing chairs and moving them around again after she changed her mind. Her normally smooth gestures had turned into jerky motions, and when she stood still, she fidgeted.
The doorbell rang. Pete glanced over at his mother across the dining room table and saw the deer-in-the-headlights panic.
“Want me to get that?” He lifted an eyebrow, as her cheeks flamed pink.
“If you don’t mind.” She turned her back and scurried back into the kitchen. Whatever had her in this nervous tizzy sent her into hiding. Must be a doozy, and he suspected he’d get an answer as soon as he opened the door.
“Hey, Naomi.” He glanced over at Bethany who appeared slightly confused. “Bethany.” He took a step back. “Come on in. Mom said we had some people coming, but she didn’t say who.”
Naomi forged toward the kitchen, leaving him standing in the foyer with Bethany, who gestured toward the older woman. “I have no idea what’s going on, but Mom was a nervous wreck all the way here.”
“My mom’s acting weird too. They’re up to something.” Pete had a good idea what it was, but he didn’t want to scare Bethany. One night in a moment of weakness, he’d divulged his attraction to Bethany during a family dinner. At the time, he assumed his parents would accept it for what it was—a fantasy—but that obviously wasn’t the case.
“Do you cook for yourself?”
He chuckled. “I cook a little, but it’s mostly stuff from a box. Mom likes to lure me back every once in a while with one of her home-cooked meals.” He rubbed his tummy, and she laughed.
“Our moms are both such great cooks.”
He nodded. “Yes, except Naomi started on a health kick, and my mom is stuck in the meat-potatoes-and-gravy mode.”
“The best of both worlds.” She smiled, lighting up the room.
“So what do you think? Any idea what they might be up to?”
“I think I know what it is.” Bethany put her purse on the floor behind the foyer table, leaned over, and pulled out a figurine. “I have something for your mom.”
“Isn’t that from one of Charlie’s mother’s collections?”
She nodded. “I remember Belva saying she and your mom both liked these.”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. So why do you think our mothers are acting so skittish?”
“I’m not sure, but I think they’re both considering running for the garden club board, and they might have a plan to join forces.” She shrugged. “But I don’t see how that would make them act so . . . weird.”
Pete laughed at the face she made, with one side of her nose crinkled, lifting her lip Lucille Ball style. She might be pushing fifty, but her shoulder-length blonde hair, silky smooth skin, sparkling blue eyes, and impish grin made her look much younger.
“Are you kids going to help me get the food on the table, or do you plan to stand out there yapping all night?” The sound of his mother’s voice echoed through the house, and Bethany grinned up at him, making his heart pound double-time.
“We’ll be right there,” Pete said. He sighed. “I hope you’re hungry. Mom fixed enough food to feed all of Bloomfield and then some.”
“She’s always done that.” Bethany took a step toward the kitchen but stopped. “Remember when Charlie and I broke up right before our last Homecoming game?”
Pete did remember, and he’d tried to put it out of his mind ever since. His mother had gotten the notion that food would cure Bethany’s pain. She’d invited Bethany over for dinner and presented her with a smorgasbord that provided his family with leftovers for an entire week.
“Did you hear me?” she asked.
He jerked back to the moment. “Uh, yeah, I heard you.”
She shook her head and sighed. “Your mother plied me with country fried steak, barbecued pork chops, roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and brownies to help me get over Charlie—stuff my mother would never fix. I must have put on a good five pounds that week.”
Naomi appeared at the other end of the hall. “You two best start helping, or you’ll be stuck cleaning up this mess by yourselves.”
Pete shot a glance at Naomi before turning to wink at Bethany. “Then by all means, we’ll help now.”
As Pete took a step toward the kitchen, Bethany playfully nudged him out of the way and rushed past. “Last one there is a rotten egg.”
He hesitated for a split second before taking off after her. “You’re on.”
Bethany’s heart hammered so hard against her chest, she thought Pete would surely see the effect he was having on her. He’d always managed to bring out her playful side. They used to kid around when they were younger, saying Charlie was the straight man to set up Pete’s punch lines. At times during Bethany’s marriage, she wished they lived closer so Pete could help lighten up Charlie. Her late husband’s serious nature sometimes sucked all the joy from their lives.
Ashley brightened things up, though, and Bethany was thankful their daughter had her disposition. She’d wanted more children, but Charlie said they needed to be cautious, because raising kids was so expensive. Over time, Bethany had become more reserved and serious. Pete brought out the lighter side of her she’d forgotten existed.
By the time she reached the kitchen, she was out of breath, with Pete right on her heels. She turned around and saw the gleam in his eye.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked. “I won.”
“I let you win.” A hint of a smile twitched at the corners of his lips.
“Did not. I won fair and square.”
Miss Gertie rolled her eyes and shoved a stack of dishes into Pete’s arms. “Some people never grow up.”
“Growing up is overrated.” Naomi chuckled as she grabbed an olive from the relish tray and popped it into her mouth. “And don’t ever accuse me of doing it, because I’ll call you a liar if you do.”
“Where’s Dad?” Pete stood by the kitchen door still holding the plates.
“I think he smelled work and took off.”
Bethany saw the look of annoyance flash across Pete’s face, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he turned and carried the dishes into the dining room.
“I’ll get the silverware,” she said. “Do you keep it in the same place?”
Miss Gertie nodded. “Naomi, why don’t you make the iced tea? No one else can make it as good as you.”
“You’re just tryin’ to get me out of the way,” Naomi said, even though she did what Miss Gertie asked. “Got any lemons?”
Her friend pointed to the refrigerator. “I stuck them in the top vegetable crisper. See if we have enough to make lemonade.”
As Bethany walked past the mirror over the buffet table in the dining room, she caught her reflection and almost gasped. Some of the color she’d lost in her cheeks had returned, and she actually looked younger than she had in a long time. And it wasn’t just the blush she had applied before leaving home.
Pete put down the plates and turned to face her. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
She couldn’t tell Pete, so she just nodded. “Let’s get the table set so we don’t get in trouble.”
He laughed as he turned back around. “This is just like old times, isn’t it? Only . . .” His voice trailed off, but Bethany was pretty sure she knew what he was thinking. It was just like old times, only now, Charlie wasn’t there.
As Pete carried the flatware into the dining room, Bethany remembered she needed some serving spoons. She’d reached the kitchen door when she overheard Miss Gertie say, “I think our plan to get the kids together just might work. Have you seen the way they look at each other?”
So she was right. They were scheming. Bethany cleared her throat to alert them before walking toward the utensil dr
awer. The guilty look on Miss Gertie’s face was comical, but when she turned to look at her mother, all she saw was a stern expression.
“Better hurry up and get back in the dining room, or Pete will think you’re shirking your responsibility.”
Bethany nodded, grabbed some spoons, and left the two mothers staring after her as she headed back to the dining room. Pete glanced up and winked. Her heart thudded.
They set the table in silence until Naomi joined them. “Why’s it so quiet in here? I thought you two had abandoned us.”
Bethany looked Naomi in the eye and smiled. Pete lifted his hand and pointed toward the kitchen. “I’ll grab the bread basket, so I can steal a roll. I’m starving.”
Naomi shook her head. “You haven’t changed a bit, I see.” She clicked her tongue. “Go help him, Bethany, and while you’re at it, make sure he doesn’t eat all the bread before he gets to the table.”
When Bethany went back into the kitchen, Pete stood there, his lips in a straight line, eyebrows comically arched, a bowl of lettuce and other assorted vegetables in his hand. “Mom won’t let me near the bread.”
“You got that right, son.” Miss Gertie chuckled. “We all know there’s not much chance of you snitching too much salad. Go on and put that on the table.”
Bethany grabbed a bowl and followed Pete but went to the opposite side of the room. After they put their bowls on the trivets, Pete looked around the table and counted chairs. “I wonder who else is coming.”
“No telling, knowing our moms.” Bethany smiled and shook her head.
Miss Gertie entered the dining room carrying a casserole dish, with Naomi following right behind. Naomi scooted around her friend and placed another trivet on the table for the hot casserole. Their synchronized movements made it obvious they’d done this before.
