Symon said, “I’ll probably put it in a book.”
Noah smiled. “Better give me credit, or I’ll sue.”
* * *
Megan felt the tension dissolve. She had the most wonderful friends. The discussions often were like having a Bible study or a counseling session. Topped off with some friendly banter. Noah was fitting in.
Aunt B was saying, “Sharing our feelings, admitting our grief and crying with friends is such a comfort.”
“Like debriefing,” Noah said. “Some kind of closure. I’m sorry I can’t give Megan that, about Michael.”
“No,” Aunt B replied with a direct look at him. “What I wanted to explain to you both, so each of you will stop blaming yourself for what was inevitable, is that one cannot expect closure on a loss. Like you said, Noah. You still feel the pain and the pleasure. Megan does not need to feel embarrassed. And Noah, you don’t need to feel at fault for her crying at your house.”
Megan thought it was time she jumped into the conversation. “I know I will always miss my grandmother. Yesterday I had one of those unexpected waves of grief.” She might as well say it. Aunt B would get around to it anyway. “And yes, it was about Michael, too. I’ve lost him. And I just want to know the truth.”
Aunt B took it from there. “Noah, we don’t expect you to divulge Michael’s secrets. Or tell things only he should tell. But apparently we’ve had some misconceptions about him—or have been misled.”
Megan knew it was her turn to talk about it or end the conversation. She chose to talk. “Michael said he’d been devastated by the breakup with Loretta, the divorce and trying to get his life back on track. I didn’t push him for information and he didn’t divulge any more. He never said she had died.” She gazed at Noah. “I understand if it was too painful to talk about. He wasn’t obligated to share his personal life if he didn’t want to or wasn’t ready.” Megan turned to Aunt B. “She’s taught us that.”
“That’s true.” Aunt B looked around the table with her kind eyes. “These girls know my story and I’d like to share it with you, Noah.”
Megan knew the others felt as she did. This wonderful woman they’d thought had never experienced anything but the good life had divulged her secrets. Now she told Noah about having a baby when she was sixteen, in Paris, and her parents making her give it up.
“For decades,” she said, the memory a pain in her voice, “I couldn’t share my secret with anyone other than my friend Clovis. And not even with her until after she shared her trials with me.” Aunt B sighed and the loving expression touched her face. “Sometimes we put our best foot forward instead of letting those close to us see our scars.”
“Fortunately I don’t have any problems,” Lizzie quipped just at the right time to ease the tension. Their heads turned and she laughed, but it caught in her throat and her eyes teared.
Aunt B’s kind gaze shifted to her. “Oh, honey, your way of covering is with your humor. All of us know that—except Noah, I guess.” Her focus turned to him. “This girl is one of the bravest I know. Her parents were in a boating accident several years ago. She and Paul have had a rough time. It’s done a world of good for these three girls to have lived together during their college years.”
Lizzie straightened. “Aunt B is a lifesaver. But about my faults.” Her green eyes flashed with pseudo-resentment. “All I have are faults. I can’t even find a man who likes me for more than one or two dates.”
Aunt B patted her hand. “Your day will come.”
“Yeah,” she said, “you’ll still be saying that when I’m ninety-two.”
Aunt B reared back. “I hope.”
They all laughed. Megan shared a glance and smile with her red-headed friend. They had a glimpse into each other’s hearts, hearts that had been broken. They related particularly well because of their scars. Annabelle’s loss of her parents in the auto accident. Lizzie’s in the boating accident. Megan’s mom had a two-year bout with cancer, then her grandmother had died not long ago.
“I’ve learned the hard way,” Noah said. “It’s the Lord’s presence with us during our trials that make us strong and able to reach out to others.”
Megan looked directly at him then. “Since you’re intent on helping Michael, maybe you can share with him that we all have problems. I hope we didn’t give the impression we couldn’t identify with his losses.”
Noah’s breath was audible. He looked emotional. “Your talking with me so openly means the world to me,” he said. “You see, I lost someone I cared for deeply. And I lost Michael, too. Now I’m trying to get him back. He needs to understand and accept what you’ve talked about today.”
Megan wondered who he had lost that he cared for deeply. She didn’t think he meant his grandfather.
He’d lost...Loretta?
She shuddered to think how devastating it would be for her if she lost Annabelle, Lizzie or Aunt B. Glancing around, she thought of Symon, too, a more recent friend. Lizzie’s brother she took for granted. And then she thought of Michael.
Had she lost Michael?
How can you lose what you never really had? But she’d thought they were growing closer. Thought they were examining their feelings and intentions. She felt sure they had been. Michael apparently came to his conclusions and...skipped town.
She just needed to know what she was dealing with.
“Yes,” Aunt B said, “but we also need to remember that we’re not required to tell anyone about our personal lives. We’re entitled to our mistakes, our forgiveness and our choice of what and when and to whom we reveal our secrets.”
“Hold on.”
They all turned their faces toward the figure in the kitchen doorway with her hands on her hips. “Can we have an intermission here? Unless you’re wanting to eat a burned or a cold lunch?”
“That would be a first,” Aunt B said. They all laughed at her raised eyebrows. “I do believe lunch is about to be served. This conversation is to be continued.”
Noah’s eyes went to Megan, as if concerned about what conversation might continue. She thought of the numerous times when talk became serious or personal. Michael would say he wasn’t feeling well and they would leave. Now she wondered if some of that was stress because he feared he might be encouraged to be open like her friends.
She watched as Noah ran his fingers through his beautiful hair, mussing it in that appealing way she liked about Michael. The way she had mussed Michael’s hair. She’d loved the look and feel of it. Her gaze lingered.
She did not feel pain.
Maybe this was one of those pleasant times of her missing Michael.
Chapter 15
“Mr. Noah” were the first words he heard other than, “amen,” after Symon said the prayer for lunch at Miss B’s request. Then they all went to the sideboard.
Willamina drew his attention away from the browned crust that had already permeated the room with a warm bread aroma.
“They know already,” Willamina said. “But in case you’re wondering, everything in that potpie and them salad makings are from local gardens.”
Seeing the pieces of white meat on the plates of the women, who were filling their plates first, he decided to quip, “Garden-grown chicken or is that turkey?”
She gave him a withering look, making him afraid she might not let him eat. Then she came close. “Don’t you go sassing me,” she warned. “If I didn’t have ulterior motives, I’d take that plate right out of your hands.”
He didn’t doubt it. He smiled congenially, in spite of the warning in her dark eyes. And what did she mean by ulterior motives? Already she’d said she had a bone to pick with him. Maybe she still intended to let him know what she thought of Megan having cried at his house, thinking he caused it. He got a distinct feeling that Willamina was as much a part of this family as these
friends.
No one seemed to think the conversation strange. They might as well be talking about the warm, humid, sunny day.
At his turn, he dipped into the creamy sauce that emitted a luscious aroma and came out with a spoonful of chicken, celery, peas and carrots with a crust so flaky he thought it might melt before reaching his mouth.
“And that’s sweet tea,” Willamina said. “I guess you like sweet tea?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Noah said. He would have said it even if he had to lie at this point. Couldn’t chance losing that potpie.
He didn’t want to chance losing these new friends. And yet, when they’d finished eating and Willamina began to take the plates, conversation ultimately left the food and general topics. It turned again to more serious matters.
“The grave of the young woman named Loretta is the same one Michael said he married—is that correct?” Miss B asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
Aunt B nodded. “Then Michael wasn’t truthful with us. I know you’re keeping his confidence, so you don’t need to think I’m trying to get you to betray that. What I want to do is help you understand about closure.”
He had the feeling Miss B was talking about him. Megan probably told her that he’d said Loretta was his girl before she was Michael’s. She might think he was grieving. In a way, he supposed he always would. How does one find closure to some things?
As if reading his mind, Miss B said, “I don’t think there is such a thing as closure. There is only acceptance. And that doesn’t come easily. And even with acceptance, memory of loss or hurt can well up in us, sweep through us like a floodgate being opened, and for a while it’s uncontrollable. But then the Lord comes in and cleans it up, rebuilds, like you do those houses.”
Noah was grateful Willamina had removed the plates and was bringing cups of coffee to the table as they continued the conversation. He hoped he concealed his surprise that Miss B was so open about her personal life.
“I accepted giving up my son,” she said. “But even now, after more than forty-five years, the feeling can still sweep over me and cause an emotional reaction. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I feel guilt. Sometimes I resent my parents for insisting I give him up. I felt they chose public opinion over their own grandson.”
She shook her head. “I have to let it go all over again. Those are sweeps of emotion. And I dare say...” The look on her face was pure compassion. “Megan, you accept the death of your grandmother, but forty or fifty years from now the memory and the loss may sweep over you and you may react in an unexpected way. That doesn’t mean you haven’t let go. But it’s a process. Your crying yesterday is a very early stage of letting go.”
Megan nodded. “I don’t know what to let go of concerning Michael.”
“As I see it,” Miss B said, “we can’t help him unless he allows it. And it seems that might only happen through Noah’s intervention.” She turned to him again.
Noah spoke up. “I don’t even understand completely what’s going on with Michael. He hasn’t contacted me since the morning he said he was leaving.”
Aunt B nodded. “All we can do is pray.”
Megan muttered. “That’s what Noah says. But what do we pray for?”
“For honesty,” Aunt B said. “Oh, I don’t mean we have to reveal all our secrets. But if I hadn’t been honest with Symon about my past and the son I gave up, we couldn’t have been honest about our feelings for each other. We’ve always been like mother and son, although I lived here and he lived in that cottage.”
She laid her hand on Symon’s. “And without that honesty, Symon wouldn’t have gone to Paris to find that son for me. And now,” she said, placing her hand over her heart, “Dr. Beauvais, who adopted my son, is coming to visit. He will be here in time for Symon and Annabelle’s wedding.”
Noah felt the elation the others seemed to be experiencing. “Your son, too?”
Aunt B shook her head. “No. Toby died when he was eleven. Dr. Beauvais is bringing photographs and his memories.”
Symon spoke up. “He’s offered his villa in Paris for our honeymoon.” A look of doubt crossed his face. “I’ve offered him the cottage while he’s here. But I don’t think the renovations will be finished in time for that. We may have to stop work for a while.” He looked at Noah for confirmation.
Noah was thoughtful. “But you wanted it finished by the time you return from your honeymoon, didn’t you? If the work stops for a while, then the workers will be mainly on the kitchen renovation when you return from Paris.”
“Annabelle and Symon know they can stay here if they want.” Miss B spread her hand, indicating the whole house.
Noah had an idea. But he didn’t know how much he should take for granted with their offering of friendship. “There’s another possibility,” he said tentatively. “Dr. Beauvais could stay at my house and the work can continue at the cottage.”
They all stared at him.
Finally Annabelle spoke. “That might be a good idea. If Dr. Beauvais is in that cottage, and Aunt B is here, who’s to keep an eye on them?” Her beautiful blue eyes widened, but a grin played about her lips. “I mean, she watches my and Symon’s every move like a hawk.”
“No such thing,” Aunt B denied, then conceded. “Well, maybe, so don’t go getting any ideas.” She grinned, then spoke seriously. “But I don’t need watching, believe me. I had that bout of pseudo-romance and marriage for a few years when I was in my forties. That’s enough for me. Besides, this Dr. Beauvais was in his early twenties when he and his wife adopted Toby. So he’d be in his late sixties. Probably old and decrepit. Too old to cut the mustard, as the saying goes.”
“I met him, you know,” Symon said, casting her a sly glance. “And...well, you can judge for yourself when he gets here. But considering that Megan and Lizzie work evenings, I think it might be a good idea for Noah to keep a close eye on you two.”
“Oh, you,” Aunt B scoffed.
Megan had another idea. “Lizzie and I could move in here with you, Aunt B. Dr. Beauvais could say in my house.”
Aunt B nodded. “If you’re going to turn the house into a B and B, then that’s what you two girls would do anyway. But it’s a lot of moving around while we’ve got this wedding to get under way.’
“I mean it,” Noah said. “I would love to have his company. He might like to have mine. I’m gone most days. If he’s a loner, that’s fine. If not, I can get reacquainted with Savannah while he’s getting acquainted.” He laughed, then said, “I hope he cooks.”
A sound came from the doorway and Willamina stood there, hands on hips. “What do you think I’m doing in this kitchen?”
“Exactly,” Aunt B said. “You and he could have dinner here, or Willamina knows how to get to your house.”
After a firm nod, Willamina turned back to the kitchen.
Noah’s momentarily deflated mood turned to confidence that his offer might have been accepted. “All I need now,” he said, “is my furniture moved out of the middle of the room.”
Words sounded from the kitchen, “My daughter Doris has a cleaning service.”
Seeing the grins around the table, Noah nodded. “I guess that’s settled.”
“I’ll be glad to help move the furniture,” Symon offered.
Lizzie perked up. “Why don’t we all go?”
Aunt B nodded. “Megan can suggest the arrangement and I can always stand around supervising.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Symon said.
Willamina came in. “Is this the time to call Doris?”
Noah nodded. “As soon as possible would be good. The whole house could use a good cleaning, especially if I’m going to have company.”
Everyone’s smiling faces indicated Dr. Beauvais would stay with Noah.
“I might as well go, t
oo,” Willamina said. “Since you’re going to hire my daughter and be lucky enough to get me as your cook. Part-time, of course. I can’t cook for everybody.”
Annabelle huffed. “Sure you’d have time? You’re going to be working for me and Symon, too.”
“Honey, I’ve been practicing all my life. Been working for B here since before you gals were born. Then it dwindled down to part-time. And to think, after Symon came back, everything has changed. Now me and my family are rolling in dough. Biscuit dough, that is.”
Noah heard the soft chuckles. “Is that the bone you had to pick with me?”
“It ain’t no funny bone.”
He shook his head. “After that potpie, I’ll say it’s a wishbone.”
“I don’t work cheap.”
He grimaced, beginning to see why she was one of the family. “Good thing,” he jested, “I don’t eat much.”
Looking around, he saw that the others were chuckling and taking it in like friends do. Except one, who still held a modicum of reserve around him. She focused on Lizzie instead of on him.
He wondered... Just what could he do about that?
Chapter 16
They all went in the back way. Megan did not feel like crying. She didn’t know if that was because her friends were with her and she felt supported, or if her crying had been that sense of grief and loss that Aunt B said can just sweep over a person without warning.
Regardless, she didn’t feel it now.
She was, of course, aware of Michael’s absence when there or any place they’d been together. If only she knew whether to feel compassion about his leaving or gratitude and anger that he had left, she’d be better able to deal with this.
But she was dealing just fine and proved it when they went into the living room and Noah waved his hands at the jumble of furniture.
Aunt B touched a couch and commented on its fine texture and colors. Everyone looked at Megan as if she had the answer to making this look like a livable room.
Lessons in Love Page 10
