The Remedy for Regret

by Susan Meissner

  A woman with dark hair and a slight build opens the door.

  “Patricia Penney?” I say, nearly breathless.

  “No, I’m afraid the Penneys don’t live here anymore,” the woman says and I cannot keep the disappointment from flooding me.

  “Do you know where the Penneys moved to?” Corinthia says, kindly, as is her way. “We have something that belongs to Tim Penney.”

  “Oh, well, I think they moved to Tennessee,” the woman says effortlessly. “I think that’s what our real estate agent said when we bought this house. “I am not really sure.”

  “Can you tell us when that was?” Corinthia says. “When they moved, that is.”

  The woman shrugs. “Well, it was nine months ago. Just before the start of the school year,” she says.

  “Do you have their address? Do you know where we can find them?” I say, knowing I must seem a little crazy.

  “Well, no, I’m afraid I don’t. My real estate agent might, though.”

  “Would you be so kind as to tell us who where we can find him or her?” Corinthia says calmly.

  The woman pauses for a moment. “Why don’t you two come in? I’ll call him for you.”

  She ushers us into her home and we follow her into her kitchen.

  “Have a seat there,” she says motioning to a table where she was obviously making cookies until a moment ago.

  Corinthia and I sit and I flash a look to her that communicates, I hope, my joy. She smiles back at me.

  The woman picks up her phone and thumbs through a little address book. She punches in the numbers and puts her free hand her hip.

  “Have a cookie,” she says, pointing to a tray of cooling peanut butter cookies.

  But I cannot eat.

  “Hi, this Carol Ann Marker. Is Jeffrey there? Thanks.”

  “He’s there,” she whispers to us.

  “Hi, Jeffrey. This is Carol Ann Marker. I have some ladies here at the house that have something that belongs to Tim Penney, you know the boy that lived in this house before us? Yes, that’s right. I don’t know. I think they’re from the school or something.”

  She pauses a moment and then says, “He wants to talk with one of you.”

  I rise and nervously take the extended phone.

  “Hello?” I say, trying not to sound edgy. But I know I do.

  “Hello. This is Jeffrey Tauer. And who am I speaking with?”

  He sounds very professional.

  “My name is Tess Longren.”

  “You’re with the school?”

  “Well, no, I’m not…”

  “You a friend of the Penneys?”

  “Well, just a friend of Tim’s, I guess you could say. I have something that belongs to him. I knew him when he was a baby, back when I lived in Blytheville.”

  “Blytheville, huh? I don’t recall the Penneys ever mentioning they lived in Blytheville,” he says, but not in a mean way.

  “No, they didn’t actually, but Tim… Tim was an abandoned infant. Two of my friends and I found him on the steps of a Blytheville church. We have something that was in the box he was found in. We’d like to give it to him.”

  Jeffrey Tauer is silent for a few minutes.

  “Well, I’d like to help you but I’m not at liberty to give out addresses of my former clients,” he finally says.

  I cannot help but sigh into the phone.

  “So, you know where Tim is,” I say.

  “Like I said, I am not at liberty to give out addresses of my former clients.”

  Then why are we even talking? I want to yell. But I don’t. I look over to Corinthia. Her eyes are closed. I imagine she is praying.

  “Mr. Tauer, can you at least tell us if the Penneys are in Tennessee? Please?”

  There is a long pause. Jeffrey Tauer is probably wondering if I am telling him the truth. He is wondering if I am someone he wants to help, even if only a little. I guess he decides I am.

  “I think that would be a very good place to start looking,” he said. “But since you already know they might be there, I probably don’t even need to say that.”

  He has covered himself well enough. He told us nothing.

  “Thank you,” I say anyway.

  “Sorry I can’t help you,” he says kindly.

  I place Carol Ann Marker’s phone back on its base.

  She is looking at me with compassionate eyes. Corinthia has opened her eyes and is looking at me as well.

  “He says he can’t give me their new address. But he did say Tennessee would be a good place to start looking.” I say.

  “I wonder how many John Penneys there could be in Tennessee,” Carol Ann says.

  “There are six,” I say as Corinthia rises from her chair. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Marker.”

  “So… so is all that true, then? About the abandoned baby?” she says.

  I nod.

  “Can I ask what it is you are trying to give back to him?”

  “It’s a locket from his birth mother.”

  “Oh! Honestly?” Carol Ann says, amazed.

  “Yes,” I answer.

  “Well, no wonder. Here,” she says, thrusting a blank piece of paper to me. “If you want, I will ask around and see if anyone here on the street or in town knows where the Penneys are. Maybe I can convince Jeffrey to tell me. Just write down a number where I can reach you.”

  “Thanks,” I say and I give the piece of paper to Corinthia. She quickly writes down her name, address and phone number.

  We thank Carol Ann several times for her kindness and she stands on her porch and waves as we get back in the car.

  Despite having nothing new to tell Blair when we get back to Blytheville I still feel as if we are miraculously close to finding Tim Penney. I can already taste the sweetness of finding him on my tongue.

  Blair is in Samuel’s office at her laptop when we return. Her cell phone is sitting next to a nearly empty bottle of Diet Coke. Her right hand is resting on a yellow pad of paper filled with a list of names and addresses. The word “Texas” is written at the top of it.

  “Well?” she says when Corinthia and I walk in.

  I tell Blair what the Jeff Tauer told us.

  “So he practically told you they’re in Tennessee!” She tears off the list of Texas John Penneys she’d been busily trying to contact when we came in, revealing the list of six Tennessee John Penneys. She picks up her cell phone.

  “Blair, what exactly are you telling these people when you call?” I ask.

  “I’m not telling them anything. When they answer I say, ‘Hello. May I speak to Tim Penney, please?’ He’s fifteen. He still lives at home.”

  “But, Blair—”

  “Then when they say, ‘I am sorry. There is no Tim Penney at this address,’ I apologize, thank them, hang up and cross them off my list.”

  “How… how many of you called already?” I am amazed at her determination.

  “All of Missouri and Texas. I left two messages and two weren’t home. But that doesn’t matter now. All that matters is Tennessee.”

  Corinthia squeezes my shoulder and tells me she is going to put a roast in the oven so we’ll have something to eat tonight and that she’s going to call Jewel and let her know what’s going on. She leaves the little office as Blair starts to call the first telephone number. I wonder for the first time where Samuel Mayhew is. I am about to ask Blair what she will say if she says, “Hello. Is Tim Penney there?” and the voice on the other end says, “Speaking.”

  “Hello. Is Tim Penney there, please?” I hear Blair say.

  She pauses for a moment.

  “Oh. I must have the wrong number. Is this the John Penney residence? Well, I am sorry to have troubled you. Goodbye.”

  “Blair?”

  “What?” she answers, but she is already tapping in the numbers for the next John Penney on her list.

  “I am wondering if maybe we shouldn’t think this through.”

  She holds up a finger to silence me for
a second.

  “This is Blair Holbrook calling for Tim Penney. I have something that I think belongs to him. I can be reached at 801-535-2945. It’s… uh… 4:45 in the afternoon on Tuesday. Thanks.”

  She clicks the phone off again.

  “Blair, I think you should have an idea of what you are going to say if he answers!”

  She is tapping in the next set of numbers. “I’m going to tell him the truth. I’m going to tell him I have something that belongs to him. Because it’s true. I do.”

  She holds up another finger and I shut my mouth.

  But then her big, fluid eyes widen in surprise and she pulls the phone away from her ear. She presses the disconnect button like she’s sealing off the cage off a monster.

  “Oh, God!” she whispers.

  “What?”

  “You were right, Tess! I don’t know what to say!”

  “Was that him!?”

  She puts the phone down and her hand is shaking.

  “It was an answering machine, Tess. It said I had reached the home of John, Patricia and Tim Penney and would I like leave a message?”

  Then she starts to giggle. But she is still shaking. “We found him, Tess! He’s in Memphis!”

  I can’t believe the worst part of the search is over. At least I think it is the worst part. “Are you going to call him back?”

  “Later. When I think I might find someone home. Tess! Can you believe it? We found him!

  It’s a little after seven when Blair decides to try the John Penney’s number again. We’ve finished eating. Samuel, Corinthia and Marigold are seated in the living room offering a prayer on our behalf. I’m pacing the floor between the kitchen and dining room, unable to sit still. Blair is seated at the dining table, in Samuel Mayhew’s chair. I think she chose it on purpose. It’s the chair of a holy man.

  She sets the call in motion and waits.

  I pace.

  “Hello? Is this John Penney?

  A second of silence.

  “Mr, Penney, my name is Blair Devere Holbrook and I’m calling because… yes, Blair Devere Holbrook. You… you remember my name?

  More silence. I stop pacing and stand at the entrance to the dining room. John Penney knows her name. He knows the name Blair Devere.

  “Yes! Yes!” Blair is smiling wide.

  “Well, I… we… were hoping to visit with Tim. Would that be possible?”

  The silences are driving me crazy.

  “Well, we were lucky enough to find some folks who remembered you. I’ve been calling John Penneys all over the South looking for you. We just… we just want to see Tim.”

  More silence. This one is longer, much longer.

  “Yes, but… Well, okay. Sure. I understand. No, we’re in Blytheville right now. Yes, we can be there by tomorrow afternoon. Of course. No, I won’t call the house again. Thank you, thank you so much, Mr. Penney. Goodbye.”

  She clicks off the phone and looks at me.

  “He wants to meet us first,” Blair says. “Tomorrow. At the school where he teaches. As soon as classes let out.”

  “How did he sound?” I lean back against the doorframe.

  Blair shakes her head like she’s not sure. “I think maybe he’s too surprised to know how he feels. But he wants to meet us. We might have to convince him to let us see Tim.”

  It’s not over yet. John Penney may decide his son doesn’t need to see the necklace or the note. He may decide we don’t need to be the ones to give them to him.

  I want to talk to Jewel. Now.

  I step into the kitchen to call her from Corinthia’s phone. I know she will want to come with us tomorrow. I want Jewel to be with us tomorrow when we go. She needs to be there with us when we go. For as far we can go.

  Sixteen

  Memphis, Tennessee

  I can’t help feeling, as we drive over the mighty Mississippi into Tennessee, that the bridge that carries us is symbolic of what lies just ahead. I feel I’ll soon be crossing over into a new phase of my life, one without so many regrets. If God is indeed pursuing me then He’ll just have to cross over this bridge with me. I’m through with battling ghosts.

  I’m glad Corinthia is with us, though Blair is probably not as keen about it. Jewel wants us to stay with her and her family for however long we are in Memphis, but Blair politely told Corinthia last night that she and I would be staying at the Peabody. I’d prefer to stay at Jewel’s with Corinthia but I don’t think it would be right for me to leave Blair alone. It’s only been a little over a week since Brad died. She acts like she is done mourning him, but I think she hasn’t even started. And when she does start, I’m pretty sure she will mourn not just his death but the death of her marriage. She didn’t see either one coming.

  I wish I could’ve told Simon personally about how far we’ve come in such a short time but he was out last night when I called to tell him our unbelievable news. I had to leave a message that Blair and I had a last name and an address and would be driving to Memphis in the morning. I also told him to call me back if he got home before eleven, but I guess he didn’t, because he didn’t call back. Another late night with Pastor Jim, probably. I guess I’m not the only one who is being pursued.

  We head into downtown Memphis from the riverbank and follow Corinthia’s directions to the Peabody Hotel. It is a beautiful morning in April. The financial district of downtown Memphis is dotted with men in white shirts and ties; talking on cell phones, drinking from Starbucks coffee cups and walking in and out of the Cotton Exchange building. Blair drives to the valet parking area of the Peabody, where we leave her car and head into the elegant hotel. I’ve been to the Peabody only once before, and then just to see the lobby and watch the Peabody ducks arrive from their rooms upstairs to the beautiful fountain on the main floor. Dad and Shelley had been married less than a month and the three of us had come to Memphis for the day. It was our first big outing as a new family of three. It seems like a long time ago, but the hotel lobby looks the same. The floral bouquets look the same. Even the ducks look the same.

  Blair has secured a suite that will allow us both to have our own bedrooms and bathrooms and to share a common sitting area. Corinthia and I are both aghast at the opulence of the suite when we step into it. Blair had the courtesy to ask Corinthia if she would like to stay at the Peabody, too, but Corinthia said she’d just stay with Jewel and the family.

  “Though I probably won’t get an invitation like this again,” she had said, shaking her head, but not regretting her decision, I think.

  We unpack a few things, but I am anxious to see Jewel. Soon we are back in Blair’s car and driving towards Jewel’s home.

  Jewel’s house is about twenty minutes away from downtown in an older suburb where brick houses line nearly every street. Hers is a two-story saltbox with white trim on the windows. The tiny lawn is well kept and the crocuses underneath the front windows are vibrant. When we stop the car in her driveway, the front door opens and a little boy charges out of it.

  “Gamma!” he yells, and runs to Corinthia as she steps out from the backseat.

  “Elijah, my boy, you have grown in just a month, you have!” Corinthia leans down to the little boy and wraps her arms around him.

  Then at the door, a tall, slender woman appears with a plump baby in her arms. She is smiling even though her teeth aren’t showing. Jewel.

  She steps out into the late morning sunshine.

  “Oh, my word! Tess and Blair, just look at y’all!” she says.

  “Here, let me take Jonah,” Corinthia says, taking the baby from Jewel.

  Jewel comes to me first, enclosing me in her arms.

  “It is has been too long,” she says and when we part, her eyes are glistening. “You look wonderful.”

  “So do you.” My own eyes feel moist.

  “Oh, Blair.” Jewel turns to the other third of our long ago trio. She takes Blair gently into another kind of embrace. “I’m so sorry for the loss of your husband. I truly am. I have
been praying for you.”

  “Yes. Thank you.” Blair breaks away first.

  “Please come in,” Jewel says. “I hope y’all can stay for lunch. I have chicken gumbo on the back burner. And Joseph, my husband, will be here for lunch today. Y’all won’t see Matthias until after school, though. He’s in school all day now.”

  We follow Jewel into her house as she says this and I wonder what she will think when we tell her we have plans for her for after school.

  Jewel’s chicken gumbo is quite good and her husband Joseph is very much like Samuel Mayhew. In fact everything about Jewel reminds me of her mother. Her house, her cooking, her husband, and the gentle way she reached out to Blair.

  When lunch is over and Joseph heads back to his church office a few blocks away, Corinthia offers to take Jonah and Elijah into the bedrooms for an afternoon nap so that the three of us can talk.

  We decide to sit outside on Jewel’s front steps, something we did countless times when we were young. When we get settled, Jewel turns to Blair.

  “Blair, may I see the note and the locket?”

  Blair hesitates for a moment and then reaches down into her purse. She pulls the note and the locket out from the inner pocket and hands them to Jewel. Jewel fingers the locket for a moment, opening it to see the tiny blank frame inside. Then she unfolds the note and reads it, probably several times. She fingers its edges and runs her hand over the writing.

  “She wasn’t much older than we were,” Jewel says thoughtfully.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you and Tess about these,” Blair says, needing, I think, affirmation from Jewel that she didn’t need from me. She didn’t apologize to me.

  “It’s all right, Blair.” Jewel refolds the note and gives it and the locket back to Blair. “I think I know why you did it.”

  Blair takes them and smiles cynically. “Were my insecurities that obvious?”