by Debby Mayne
“Yes and no. I’ve decided to clean everything out—and I mean really clean and not take a token action of getting rid of a few things under the guise of helping the garden club. My problem is, I don’t know where to start.”
“Want me to help?” Naomi made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Oh, never mind. That would never do, especially after I just told you I don’t want to try to change you.” She paused. “How about if I send Mary over again?”
“No. I have to do this myself.” Bethany glanced around the living room and then walked back into the hallway. “I just have to figure out where to start.”
“Remember what I always said—”
“Yes, one bite at a time.”
“I’m happy to know you actually listened to me.” Naomi chuckled. “Why don’t you take everything off the shelves and put it into three piles—a keeper pile, a donation pile, and a maybe pile. Put the maybe pile in a box that you can store for a year. After that, if you don’t need or want any of it, you can get rid of it.”
That sounded like an excellent plan. “Mom, you’re a genius.”
“Of course I am. And the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” She laughed again.
“I love you.”
Naomi stopped laughing and sighed. “Back atcha, kiddo.”
After hanging up, Bethany felt a surge of energy and a fresh desire to get to work. She walked straight back into the living room, took a sweeping look around, and plowed forward. She took her mother’s advice and created three piles without too much thought about any single item. Within a couple of hours, she had three impressive stacks, and she was pleased to see that the donation pile was the largest.
She stood back and brushed her hands together as she admired her work. Nothing remained on any visible surface, so now she could dust without worrying about breaking anything. She dug out a dust rag from a kitchen drawer and the furniture polish from under the sink and went to work cleaning, admiring the wood grain as she polished the antique furniture, and wondering why it had taken her so long.
Then she turned around and looked at the piles. The medium-sized box wasn’t big enough for any of them, so she went back out to the garage and got more boxes—this time without that sick feeling that had formed in her stomach earlier.
By the time she finished packing all the items she wanted to give away or put in the attic, it was past suppertime, and her stomach had started rumbling. Leaving the things she planned on keeping in the middle of the living room floor, she padded into the kitchen to fix herself a sandwich.
As she ate, she pondered the feelings that surged in her chest. Surprised by how liberating it felt to have the most difficult part behind her, she decided she might as well tackle her bedroom tomorrow and the guest room the next day. But after supper, she knew she needed to finish the job in the living room so she could be free to move on.
On Thursday, with all her hard work behind her, Bethany loaded up her SUV to take more things to the community center. It didn’t all fit in one load, so she left what she couldn’t get into the car stacked in the foyer of her house.
After driving to the community center, she pulled up in front at the loading area and got out of her car. Before she had a chance to open the hatch, she heard Pamela’s voice.
“Bethany, where on earth have you been? No one has seen you in days. We wondered if you might have decided to pack up and move back to the big city.” She snickered. “No one would blame you after what folks have put you through lately.” She glanced down sheepishly, kicked the pointy toe of her animal print shoe on the curb, and slowly looked up. “I have to admit I was one of the worst. I am so sorry. I hope I haven’t scared you off.”
“Apology accepted.” Bethany smiled. “And no, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.” Bethany gestured toward her SUV. “I’ve been gathering up more things for the festival.”
Pamela’s eyebrows shot up as she looked at the massive number of boxes. “That’s a lot of stuff. Are you sure about this?” She cleared her throat. “Oh, never mind. There’s too much to give away as prizes. I’ll go through it later and decide. We’ll put most of it in the garden club rummage sale booth . . . that is, unless you want to rent a booth yourself and keep the money.”
“The garden club booth is perfect. I like the idea of donating to the cause.”
Pamela smiled and touched the top box with one pastel fingernail and quickly drew back. “You can’t unload all this stuff by yourself. Let me get some of the boys to give you a hand.”
Before Bethany had a chance to remind her that she was the one who loaded the SUV, Pamela had darted inside. Bethany carried one box to the door and was met by three men who were old enough to be her father. These “boys” didn’t seem to mind helping, and she wasn’t about to argue. It was rather amusing watching them try to outdo each other, proving they were still virile. Pamela egged them on, letting them know how strong they were.
“Ooh, look at that muscle, Howard,” Pamela said. “I remember when you won the Fourth of July arm wrestling contest.”
He flexed his muscle. “And I still got it.”
Pamela grinned. “Yes, you sure have.” As soon as he turned to make sure the other guys heard her, she made her way back to Bethany’s side. “It was nice of them to give us a hand, wasn’t it?”
Bethany blinked. “Um . . . extremely nice.”
One of the seniors returned for another load. “Is this all ya got?”
“Yes . . . at least for now. Thank you so much for doing all this.”
“Aw, that’s what we’re here for,” Howard said.
Claude snorted. “No way. You’re here because you still haven’t beaten me at checkers.”
“Now that’s not true, and you know it.”
“Is too true.” Claude leaned toward Howard. “Admit it. I’m a better checker player than you.”
Pamela wedged herself between the men. “Boys, boys, I’m sure you’re both excellent at checkers, but what does that really matter? You have both been such gentleman . . . until now.”
Howard hung his head. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Claude jutted his chin. “Say you’re sorry.”
“Me say I’m sorry? Now that’s a bunch of . . .” He glanced over at Pamela who glared at him with raised eyebrows. “Okay, if it makes you happy, sorry.”
Pamela turned to Claude. “Now it’s your turn.”
Claude frowned and mumbled, “Sorry.”
“Okay, then it’s settled. You’re both gentlemen who were chivalrous when we needed you, so run along and finish your checkers game. We’ll let you know when we need you again.”
Howard grinned at Bethany and winked. “You sure do have some nice things here. I just might pick up a few of them and take them home with me.” He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a weathered wallet. “How much do you want for this stuff?”
Pamela shook her finger at him. “You’ll just have to wait until the festival and shop along with everyone else.”
Once they left, she turned to Bethany, shaking her head. “Some boys never grow up.”
“I have another load,” Bethany said. “Should I wait another day?”
“Whatever for? You go on back home, and I’ll alert the boys that you’re returning with more stuff.”
Since Bethany had stacked all the boxes by the door in her foyer, she loaded the rest in a matter of minutes. When she pulled up in front of the community center, the door flung open, and out walked Howard, Claude . . . and Pete.
“Pamela called and told me to hurry up,” he explained. “She said you were a damsel in distress, so I needed to step up to the plate and become your knight in shining armor.”
“Interesting way to put it.” Bethany unlocked the hatch and took the first box off the top.
Pete immediately grabbed it from her. “Oh, no, ya don’t. L
et the guys take care of this.” He nodded toward the corner of the building, where Pamela stood, watching with eagle eyes. He leaned over and whispered, “I know you’re capable of helping unload, but please go stand by her and keep her out of our way.”
“Whatever you say.” She bit back a laugh as she joined Pamela. “You really didn’t have to call Pete. There’s not all that much to unload.”
“Since when do you get to tell me what I don’t have to do?” Pamela asked. “There are some liberties I can take as the president of the garden club, and I fully intend to do it.”
Bethany knew there was no point in arguing with Pamela, because it would wind up in a battle she could never win. So she took a tiny step away and watched as Pete, Claude, and Howard finished carrying the last of the boxes inside. Each time she saw Pete, she felt another piece of her shield chipping away. His limitless generosity warmed her from the inside out, and she always felt as though he liked her just the way she was.
“Want me to set everything out?” Pete asked. Claude and Howard had already gone over to their table and resumed their checkers game.
“No,” Pamela said. “You’ve done what we needed, so you can run along with Bethany now.” She looked at Bethany. “Unless you have more loads.”
“Not now,” Bethany replied. “But I will when I do my final run-through in the house.”
“After you’re done, we can separate things according to what we’ll do with them. I’ve decided that only the higher value collectibles will go as prizes . . . and maybe some of the handmade quilts. The other stuff can go in our garden club booth, along with the jams and jellies from the Pink Geranium and gardening starter sets Naomi is putting together.”
“Does my mother know about this?” Bethany asked, half joking but knowing Pamela often assumed things.
“Yes, of course, she does.” Pamela scowled. “She volunteered. Why would you even ask such a silly question?”
Bethany started to reply, but Pete spoke up. “Maybe I can come up with something from my family’s business.”
“Your dad already did. He’s giving away some fancy faucets.”
Bethany thought that was odd, but Pete nodded. “We received a shipment of faucets we didn’t order. When I called to ship them back, I found out the company was going out of business, and they said to just keep them.”
Pamela folded her arms. “I wondered about that. After all, faucets are such odd things to donate.” She smiled at Pete. “But I’m sure someone will want them.”
“These are very unusual, with ornamental scrollwork.”
“More difficult to clean, I’m sure, but that won’t matter to some folks who like fancy things.” She fluttered her pastel fingernails in the air, and that was when Bethany caught sight of the glistening jewels on the tips. “I’m a much more basic person. Very down-to-earth and not fussy at all.”
Bethany noticed Pete’s lips twitching. He cut a quick glance in her direction, and even without a comment, she knew his thoughts lined up with hers.
Pamela scowled as she walked around the table. “Hey, I just noticed something. We’re missing a few things.” She patted an empty spot on the end. “I’d just emptied one of the boxes right here.”
Bethany joined her and looked everything over. “Where’s that stack of quilts my mother-in-law made?” She leaned around and glanced at the other side of the table. “And the hand-painted ceramic vase I brought in the last load?” Panic welled in her chest.
Howard waved his hands around to get their attention. “Don’t get all worked up, ladies. I put some of the valuable things in the kitchen where we can lock them up until the rummage sale.”
“Oh.” Pamela made a face. “I suppose that’s okay. Just don’t do that again unless you let me know first.”
Bethany shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Lord, give me the strength to let go of the clutter and the cobwebs in my life.
Chapter 15
As Pete finished unloading Bethany’s car and carrying boxes into the community center, he took a few quick glances at Bethany. She seemed different—more relaxed and with a sense of resolve he hadn’t noticed before. She even looked at him differently.
“Thanks again, Pete,” she said, jolting him from his thoughts. “I better get back home now and let you go back to whatever you were doing before Pamela called. I’m really sorry about the interruption.”
He shook his head. “No, I’m glad she called. I always enjoy helping out wherever I can.”
They stood in the circular drop-off section of the driveway, gazing into each other’s eyes. When he squinted, he thought he might even detect a smidge of attraction, but he suspected that was only wishful thinking on his part.
Bethany tilted her head with a questioning gaze. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
He sucked in a breath and smiled. “The sun’s in my eyes.” He left out the fact that seeing her brightened his day more than the sun ever could. “Since we’re done now, I probably need to get going. Tomorrow comes early in the plumbing business.”
“No, that’s fine. I need to leave too. See you soon.” She didn’t budge, making his heart pound even harder than it was.
“You’ll be at church on Sunday, won’t you?”
She nodded. “Yes, of course, I will. You know I never miss church.”
“Just making sure.” He grinned, and when she smiled back at him, it hit him hard. There was more than just an attraction between them. He was in love with this girl and probably always had been.
He stood in the driveway and watched Bethany as she pulled away and drove toward her house. The sound of footsteps approaching from behind caught his attention, and he spun around in time to see Andy walking toward him.
“Still haven’t told her, have you?” Andy asked.
Pete thought hard but couldn’t imagine what Andy was talking about. “Huh?”
“You know, told her what’s really going on with you.”
“What’s going on with me?”
Andy let out a hearty chuckle. “That you’re head over heels.”
“What makes you say—?”
“It’s obvious, son. Anyone who sees the way you look at her knows you’re hopelessly in love with Bethany, but you don’t know what to do about it.”
This was really weird. If he’d been that obvious to Andy, he wondered how big of a fool he’d made of himself to everyone else in town. “I don’t know about that. Bethany and I have been friends practically all of our lives. I used to hang out with her and Charlie.”
“Yes, but things change.” Andy tipped his head toward Pete and studied him from beneath his heavy eyebrows. “Look at Pamela and me. No one ever would have thought she and I would be a logical match, but we’ve been together for a good while.”
Pete knew about Andy’s first wife’s death and what a deep funk Andy had been in. For a number of years, everyone in town had been afraid of Andy because he was such an angry man after the car wreck. He’d even stopped going to church, until Pamela became a widow, and he saw she needed someone who understood.
Andy placed his hand on the side of the building and leaned into it. “And those people would have been right if we’d gotten together when we were younger. It took age and maturity for us to see each other’s value.”
“So you’re saying that’s the case with Bethany and me?”
“No, not really, because I think you’ve seen her value far longer than even you care to admit. Now it’s time for her to see you as a possible suitor.”
Pete had no idea what to say next. He couldn’t deny Andy’s observation, because he’d be lying. But he also didn’t want to admit how he felt about Bethany, since it seemed pointless and maybe even hopeless. Even if Bethany felt the same attraction, it didn’t mean she could ever love him.
“Andy! There you are!” The sound of Pamela’s voi
ce was music to Pete’s ears. “I’ve been waiting for you for the past half hour.”
“Sorry.” Andy gave Pete a conspiratorial smile and turned back to Pamela with his arms outstretched. “Pete and I have been having a little man-to-man talk.”
Pamela walked into his open arms but narrowed her gaze at Pete and turned back to Andy. “Anything I need to know about?”
“Nope.” Andy gave her a hug, and then took her by the hand and pulled her to his side. “So why don’t you and I go on our date and let this fella do whatever he needs to do?”
“See ya.” Pete waved and took off toward his truck. He could hear Pamela asking one question after another about Pete as he walked away, but all Andy did was grunt one-word replies.
Bethany couldn’t sleep, so she got out of bed and turned on the light. Her bedroom was packed with almost as many knickknacks as she’d removed from the living room. A handmade quilt lay folded at the foot of her bed, but another huge stack rested atop the chair in the corner of the room. In the opposite corner, a laundry basket filled with some of Ashley’s old stuffed animals added to the cluttered appearance. The things she had in the living room held memories, but the ones in her bedroom were closer to her heart. Maybe she shouldn’t get rid of these so quickly.
Naomi’s words about her things being a fire hazard rang through her head, and Bethany realized her mother was right. Then she thought about Aunt Mary’s advice to pack most of her things away and rotate them. She pondered that idea for a moment and finally decided that was exactly what she’d do first thing in the morning. At least it would be out of sight, and she’d be able to dust the baseboards to satisfy Naomi.
On Friday morning, Bethany awoke with a crick in her neck, sore forearms, and her head swimming with a running list of all she needed to do. She sat up momentarily, but flopped back down and stared up at the ceiling. It could wait.
She’d barely rolled over when the phone rang. As tempting as it was to let it ring and check for messages later, she decided to answer it. She stood up, squinted down at the caller ID screen, and picked it up.
