Welcome Back
Page 24
Bee propped her feet on a chair across from her. “Grandmother constantly told me I’d been her last hope of marrying an agriculturalist, a man to take over the farm someday. She layered my sins on me daily, reminding me of my mistakes.” Mary Beth rolled her eyes. “I finally got sick of it one day and started retaliating. A lot of quarrels and disharmony ensued. I started wondering if I’d need to move out when Dad finally intervened and began to stand up for me.”
Lydia knew she looked surprised.
“He told me he wouldn’t allow his mother to run off any more of his family if he could help it.” Mary Beth stroked a hand over the kitten beside her. “He had some talks with Grandmother, set some ground rules. Insisted on civility at meals. He made Grandmother stop trying to run my life or tell me how to raise my boys. Dad also insisted that I get a chance to open the store, like I wanted to. He told Grandmother I needed an enterprise of my own, and he insisted he’d pay Ela and Manu extra to watch after the boys the days I worked.”
Mary Beth blew out a sigh. “It was my salvation, getting out of the house and away from Grandmother, finding work I enjoyed that was my own.” She sent a loving gaze to Lydia. “I knew for the first time then how much it meant to you to work at Western, to find a job you loved that you could give yourself to. I didn’t understand that before, Mother.”
“I think I’d have gone crazy if I hadn’t started the job at Western when I did.”
Mary Beth nodded. “I know. Things got even worse when Estelle got sick. Cancer is a harsh disease, and people with warm, sweet natures tend to weather it sweetly, but people with harsh, critical natures often handle it with bitterness. You can imagine where Estelle fell on that scale.”
“Rebecca said those two years were difficult for all of you.”
Mary Beth laughed. “Difficult is a mild word for it. But we couldn’t help feeling sorry for her near the end. She was so sick and frail.”
The two women sat silently for a little while, watching the boys play.
“Mother, you need to stop blaming Daddy for all the bad things Grandmother did. It wasn’t his fault, and even when he tried to stop her from being so critical and judgmental, it didn’t help much. She just got mad at him, too. I don’t think anyone could have changed Grandmother into a sweet, understanding, kind woman. It just wasn’t in her.”
Mary Beth ran a hand through her hair. “I know you and the boys think Daddy should have stood up to Grandmother more than he did back when you were at home, but, honestly, I doubt it would have changed a thing. Dad tried when I came back but it did little to help.”
Lydia pursed her lips. “At least he tried with you.”
“And Dad sees that now. He’s told me he was wrong not to stand up for you and the boys when you lived at home. That’s why he did try more with me when I came back with the twins. But I’m telling you truthfully that it didn’t make much difference. So if you’re still harboring the idea that his standing up for you would have changed everything—changed Grandmother in some miraculous way into a nicer person—then that’s an illusion.”
Mary Beth took a swig of her tea. “To be frank, Grandmother didn’t like other women very much. Any other women. She felt competitive with them. Ela said she thought it was self-esteem issues leftover from her childhood.” Bee shrugged. “I can’t say. I only know, as I grew older, that I realized she had no real friends. Acquaintances, yes. Social contacts and church relationships, but no friends she met for lunch, talked and laughed with on the phone, let down her hair with. I felt sorry for her about that.”
“I did, too, when I’d let myself,” Lydia admitted.
Mary Beth smiled at her. “You’re a fixer, Mom. That’s what you do in your work, help direct and fix people, help steer them on the right track, counsel them, help them. I think it totally frustrated you when you couldn’t do anything to fix Estelle.”
Lydia considered that thought. “You may be right. I know I was always trying some new way to fix my relationship with her. Wishing things could be different.”
“God rest her soul,” Mary Beth said kindly. “I hope she found healing and a way to develop friendships in heaven.”
“Me too,” Lydia said and realized she really meant it.
Later that evening, Lydia kept thinking about her conversation with Mary Beth as she and John shared a quiet, elegant dinner at the Maggie Valley Country Club’s Renaissance Room. John wore a suit coat tonight, not a look Lydia saw often, and he looked deliciously handsome. Lydia knew she looked nice, too, in a loose, flowing skirt and a silky, fussy blouse covered in tucks and embroidery.
“I’d forgotten how nice it is here.” Lydia looked around at the plush dining room, with its white linen tablecloths and napkins shimmering in soft lighting. Out the window, the deepening shadows of the mountain ranges lay in the hazy twilight.
“A formal invitation for Parker and Marie’s wedding arrived today.” John pulled it out of a pocket to pass to Lydia. “It was addressed to the two of us. Bee got a separate one with a note inviting Neal to attend with her, since the two are engaged now.”
Lydia studied the crisp invitation, decorated in twining greenery—a nice touch, considering the fact that the wedding would be held at the Botanical Garden, where Parker worked.
“I made reservations for all of us, including Ela and Manu, at the hotel Parker recommended near the gardens. I thought there were too many of us to stay with Parker and Martha, but you can stay with one of them if you prefer.”
“No.” She toyed with a string of pearls around her neck. “I know Parker and Marie have started renovating the house to their own tastes. It wouldn’t feel the same.”
John reached a hand across the table to cover hers. “I hope that means you’re beginning to feel more at home here than in Atlanta now, Lydia.”
“I think so,” she admitted, watching his eyes warm.
The waiter came and John ordered trout and Carolina rice for both of them, letting Lydia tell the waiter what salad dressing she wanted and consulting with her about a wine for their meal.
He toasted her a short time later, lifting his wineglass toward her. “To the most beautiful woman in the room.”
She blushed. “You still know how to be graciously romantic, John. I always liked that about you.”
“I can be even more romantic.” She watched a muscle twitch in his cheek. “Dare I ask again if you’d consider being my wife once more, Lydia?”
She felt her heart kick up at the words. “I’ve been considering it.”
His brows drew together. “Seems like everyone else—Parker and Marie, Neal and Mary Beth—is getting married except us.” He grinned. “I guess I’m hoping it might be contagious.”
Lydia took a shaky breath. “Mary Beth told me she and Neal plan to build a house next door on the Caldwell Farm.” She watched a small frown cross his face. “That little frown lets me know you’d rather they stayed on at the farm.”
“It’s their happiness that matters most,” he answered.
“I agree and I’ve been thinking about that.” She gathered her courage. “Would you consider moving in with me at Hill House, John, and giving Main House to Neal, Mary Beth, and the boys? There are four of them and only two of us, and I know from whispered talk I’ve heard that Bee and Neal want more children. They need a big place for their family and we don’t.”
He didn’t reply at first, his eyes finding hers instead. “That’s a very unselfish gesture, Lydia Ruth.”
“Not really.” She dropped her eyes. “All my happiest memories are at Hill House. We lived there when we were first married, and I brought my babies home to that house.” She smiled at him. “I chose the paint colors and wallpaper at Hill House, decorated and furnished it as an excited young bride.”
Lydia watched John’s eyes, trying to read his thoughts. “We made love there the first time.” Her voice dropped to a whisper now. “I have many warm memories of tender times in that house, of meals I made, of children’s la
ughter, of so many joys.” She felt tears smart her eyes.
John’s soft voice touched across the table. “I have the same happy memories of that house, Lydia. And when I’m with you there, my blood races like a young man’s again.” He reached to catch her hand in his, leaning over to bring her fingers to his lips.
She felt her heart begin to trip a little faster. “You wouldn’t be disappointed to move back to such a small place with me?”
He shook his head. “No, it’s a wonderful idea. But you’d have to cook for me with Ela at Main House.”
A faint smile played on her lips. “You know I do that now at Hill House whenever you come. I like to cook. You know that.”
“Well, then.” She felt his foot teasing up her leg under the tablecloth and realized he’d slipped off his loafer before sending his foot journeying up her leg.
“John!” Her eyes widened. “We’re in a public restaurant.”
“I’m feeling happy.” He grinned at her.
She felt herself blush. “Well, try to feel a little less happy for now. We haven’t even had dinner.”
His eyes, darkening, caught hers. “Would you like to plan a little ceremony, say our vows again before others?”
She considered it. “Not really. We can say our vows to each other in our own way, don’t you think?”
He nodded, reaching to cup her face gently with one hand. “I take thee, Lydia Ruth Cunningham, with great joy and respect to be my lawful, wedded wife again. I promise to be a faithful and true husband, before God and all His witnesses—in sickness and in health, in poverty or in wealth—as long as we both shall live.”
Lydia caught his other hand with hers, bringing it to her lips to kiss. “I’m happy to start a new life with you again, too, John.” She smiled at him, repeating his words. “To be a faithful and true wife to you—in sickness and in health, in poverty or in wealth—as long as we both shall live.”
He leaned across the table to kiss her, drawing a few stares from diners nearby. “We’ll be happy, Lydia.”
“I think so, John.” She fought tears that threatened, putting a hand over her heart.
“Well, whoopie-do!” Tolley Albright’s voice boomed from the doorway as he and Rebecca headed across the room. “I hope from that fine kiss that Lydia finally said yes!”
Lydia’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Oh, honey, don’t be mad.” Rebecca swooped over to hug her and then hugged John. “We invited ourselves to join you tonight, but John said he had something to ask you first and told us to give him some time alone with you before we came.” She pulled out a seat, wiping tears from her eyes. “It wasn’t hard to figure out what was going on from the doorway. In fact, I think you’ve misted up the whole room.”
Lydia looked around and saw several couples raise a glass to them and smile.
Tolley signaled the waiter. “This is a happy day, I’ll tell you that, and dinner is on Rebecca and me tonight. We’re celebrating!”
John found Lydia’s eyes. “I only planned to ask again tonight, but I didn’t envision how everything would go—”
“Oh goodness,” Rebecca interrupted. “If you two would rather be alone, Tolley and I can slip right out. You just say the word.”
Lydia smiled then. “No. It’s wonderful to have you both here. It is a time to celebrate.”
A happy evening ensued between the old friends, but Lydia grew shy as John drove her home later. And as they started up the driveway to Hill House, Lydia heard herself gasp. There, across the porch rail, hung the banner that had greeted her the first day she’d arrived. The words “Welcome Back” stood out in black ink, but now underneath them in red was added the word “Forever.”
“Do you like it?” John walked around the car to help her out with a smile.
A lump filled her throat. “How did it get here, John?”
His mouth quirked in an impish smile. “I called Mary Beth when I went out to the restroom and asked her to hunt it up and rehang it before I brought you back to the house. She and Neal must have decided to add ‘forever.’ ” He kissed her fingers. “I like it.”
As they drew closer to the porch, John swept Lydia into his arms, carrying her up the steps and pushing open the door with his foot to carry her over the threshold, just as he’d done the day he’d first brought her home to Hill House. Inside the doorway, he leaned over to kiss her with enough passion to sizzle her shoes off.
“We’re going to have a happy life, Lydia Ruth—starting now.” He kissed her again and then strode with purpose through the house toward the bedroom, his hands roaming as his mouth moved down her neck.
No longer shy, Lydia’s fingers worked eagerly, unbuttoning his shirt. “Welcome home, John,” she whispered in his ear, knowing with a surety that her future looked bright indeed.
EPILOGUE
In the midst of apple season in September, the whole Cunningham family gathered at the family farm for Mary Beth and Neal’s wedding. Two giant white tents spread across the yard behind Main House, and Ela Youngblood and the Sheppard women had worked feverishly for weeks getting favors, decorations, and food ready for the big reception. In keeping with the season, the bridesmaids wore dresses of apple red and all the decorations for the reception echoed the chartreuse greens and warm reds of the apple varieties coming into full season on the farm.
“This is so exciting,” Rebecca said to Holly, as they waited for the new bride and groom to drive over from the church.
“It makes me happy to see all of John’s family reunited and back together here at the farm.” Holly sighed. “I didn’t know if I would ever see this day.”
“Me, neither.” Rebecca sneaked a treat off a table groaning with food. “It’s certainly happier coming to this beautiful wedding today than to the funeral last month for Sonny Harper. I know everyone hoped he would get help. It nearly broke Wilma’s heart to learn he’d died away from his family down in Providenciales.”
“Where is that?” Holly asked.
“It’s in the Turks and Ciacos Islands. I heard Sonny was playing and writing music with a reggae band there at one of the big resort clubs. But, sadly, he overdosed. It hurts my heart to see a talented young life like that snuffed out.”
“Me too. I remember hearing Sonny sing and perform a long time ago. He was truly gifted. He might have become famous one day if it weren’t for the drug problems.”
Rebecca turned to Holly. “Speaking of local people who became famous, is it true W. T. Zachery is coming to your bookstore in Waynesville to do a signing? My grandson absolutely loves his books. I hope I can get signed copies for him.”
Holly sipped on a glass of punch. “Believe it or not, Zachery has moved from New York back to Bryson City, where he grew up.”
“Whew! That’s a big culture change.” Rebecca licked chocolate off her fingertips from the last pastry she’d popped in her mouth. “Maggie Valley is somewhat remote, but at least Waynesville and Asheville are nearby. Bryson City isn’t near any major city for shopping or entertainment. Wonder what caused Zachery to move back home?”
“Your roots draw you back to where you started, I guess.” Holly looked around her. “Even despite all my problems with my mother, I found it hard to move too far from the farm and the mountains. And Wade’s roots formed here, too, being raised on the Barber Orchard.”
“Do you think a woman drew him back—like Lydia coming home to see if she and John could get together again?”
“No, I don’t think that’s it.” Holly shook her head. “I read that his wife got shot in a small market not far from where she and Zachery lived in New York.”
“Oh, well then. Maybe he’s running from the memories.” Rebecca moved toward the punch bowl nearby. “I guess the big question is whether he’ll stay long in a small town like Bryson City after life in the Big Apple.” She stopped to point toward the doorway of the tent. “Oh, look, here come Neal and Mary Beth. Let’s go get in the line to greet them and see all the family.”
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The women moved forward, amid gaily decorated tables, to greet the bride and groom. Beside them, John and Lydia stood, all smiles, their three sons lined up beside them.
A READING GROUP GUIDE
Welcome Back
Lin Stepp
About This Guide
The suggested questions are included
to enhance your group’s reading of
Lin Stepp’s Welcome Back.
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1. In Chapter 1, Lydia Cunningham is leaving Atlanta to move back to North Carolina. Her sons—J. T., Billy Dale (Will), and Parker—are not happy about it. Why? What reasons does Lydia give them for going back? Why did she leave the farm before, and what work has she been doing in Atlanta?
2. Lydia calls her mother-in-law, Estelle Whitmeyer Cunningham, “a difficult woman.” Do you think Lydia’s statement was accurate? What things did you learn about Estelle, as the book unfolded, that show why Estelle might have been a difficult woman for many to get along with and understand? Have you ever known anyone like Estelle or had to deal with an “Estelle” in your own family?
3. How long has Lydia been gone from North Carolina and Cunningham Farm? When she returns she finds some things the same and some things changed. Discuss examples of each. How is her husband, John, different and the same?
4. What did you learn about Hill House and Main House as you followed Lydia’s journey back to the farm? Study the map of Cunningham Farm in the front of the book to see where these houses and others in the book stand. Do you remember who lives in each? Have you ever been on a large farm where several families live in homes on the overall property? Which home does Lydia have the happiest memories of? How does Lydia later dispel some of her negative memories of Main House? Who gives her counsel in how to do this?