by Terry Fowler
What had he been thinking to come here, and on a holiday? He’d taken Friday off and used the long weekend to attend a college friend’s wedding. He’d returned home that morning and stopped by the office. He’d found the letter in the stack of mail on his desk with a Post-It note from his assistant. She’d wanted to know if she should forward the letter to his mother. It still gave him chills to think what would have happened if she’d done that without asking.
The Wrights lived in one of the more prominent older neighborhoods of Wilmington. His mother lived a few miles away in one of the newer gated communities.
Josiah drove to his mother’s home and parked, taking time to remove the letter from his pocket and hide it in the glove compartment. He needed to destroy that thing. The sooner, the better. He supposed he should have returned it to Marty Wright but he couldn’t. He had to be sure the letter never surfaced again. Never found its way into his mother’s hands.
Marty Wright said she’d written the letter as closure. She’d made references to the pain and embarrassment his father had caused her. She’d even gone so far as to say she hoped never to see him again and prayed God would protect his wife and child. The ranting of a scorned woman? Somehow Josiah didn’t think so. He had read the pain in between the lines. Even seen what he thought were dried tears. His father had hurt this woman.
Josiah thought of the bundle of photos he’d found in his father’s desk when he moved into the office. A much younger Joseph Byrd in his football uniform with his arm slung about the shoulders of various young women. There was one young woman and another uniformed man who appeared in more photos than the others. He’d started to toss them but hadn’t, thinking they were part of the puzzle that made up his dad.
He considered his mother might want to see them one day but wondered why his father kept them at the office instead of at home. Maybe he hadn’t wanted his wife to know about these women in his past. What had happened between Marty Wright and his father? He wanted to know but Joseph Byrd had taken that truth with him to the grave.
He found it surprising his father’s old flame lived here in Wilmington. Based on what he’d read, Josiah assumed they’d met in college. Had Marty Wright attended high school with his parents?
His mother came out of the house and Josiah jumped out of the truck to help her. She carried an armful of colorful spring flowers he knew she’d cut from her garden. Josiah locked the front door and escorted Cecily Byrd to the car she’d left in the driveway. She didn’t care for his vehicle, refusing to climb up into the truck when she had a perfectly good car to drive.
Josiah bent to kiss her cheek. She lifted the flowers. “I think Joseph would have enjoyed these, don’t you?”
“He would. He loved that garden, too.”
His mother’s plants flourished with the love she showered on them. She’d completed the Master Gardener course at the Arboretum and volunteered when her schedule allowed. She had worked wonders with the yard. She’d known exactly what she wanted and gone about getting it done.
“Ready?”
She nodded and Josiah opened the passenger door and helped her inside. They chatted as he drove over to the large cemetery near Shipyard Boulevard. He parked next to his father’s grave and waited while she knelt and touched the photo mounted in the flat marker with such longing he couldn’t bear to watch.
Josiah busied himself opening the gallon of water he’d brought along and filling the vase in hopes of giving the flowers a fighting chance of survival for more than a day or so. Cecily artfully arranged them. He screwed the lid back on the jug and glanced down to find tears in his mom’s eyes. Josiah helped her to her feet and pulled her into a hug. They stood there in silence until she spoke. “I miss him.”
“I do too, Mom.”
Josiah did miss his dad. While their relationship hadn’t been great and his emotions were mixed, he missed having his father in his life. He had always hoped that one day they would settle into a comfortable relationship and put the anger and rebellion of his teen years behind them. He’d never wanted to hurt his dad; he just wanted his love.
Josiah had looked forward to falling in love and producing a couple of children but it hadn’t happened. Now his life had stalled. Since his father’s death, nothing seemed to be going right. Wasn’t today proof of that? Who else could intercept a letter from his father’s old girlfriend and make an idiot of himself in front of her daughter?
He hugged his mother a moment longer and stepped back. “Let’s go home.”
She took his arm. “I made all your father’s favorites. I thought a good meal would be the best way to honor his memory.”
Josiah smiled. Cecily Byrd believed food cured all ills. “I agree. A good meal is exactly what we need.” He guided her toward the car.
Back at the house, Josiah loosened his tie and pulled it over his head. He shoved it in his coat pocket and laid the coat over the chair back. Too bad he didn’t have something cooler and more comfortable to wear. Suits and dress shirts weren’t the best summer attire.
“What’s this?” Cecily bent to pick up something.
He recognized the business card Leah Wright had handed him earlier and reached for it. “Must have fallen from my pocket.”
She read the text and looked at him curiously. “Clutterfree? A clutter consultant? What on earth?”
“I met this woman today who comes in and helps clear the junk away. Sounded like a good idea.”
His mom looked at him with increased interest. “Actually, it is. I was thinking just this week that I need to do something about your father’s things.”
The timing was all wrong. She didn’t need this. Not today. “Mom, you don’t have to...”
She patted his cheek. “Yes, Josiah, I do. It’s been a year. You’ve handled the business, the will and other important matters but there’s more to do. I just don’t know where to start. It’s overwhelming.”
“Maybe we can find someone to help.”
Cecily held up the card. “What’s wrong with this person? Why can’t I bring her in to assist me?”
Warning bells clanged in Josiah’s head. No way. His mother couldn’t work with Leah Wright. “We don’t know anything about her.”
“Would we know anything about anyone we hired? It’s a very cute card.” Before he could answer, she asked, “If you don’t know her, why do you have this?”
Her hopeful expression forced his response. “We didn’t go on a date, Mom. Just exchanged business cards.”
“Is she a nice woman?”
“I suppose.” There had been something about Leah. Not an in-your-face kind of beauty but she struck him as the kind of person who would interest him if it weren’t for the situation.
“You could do with a nice woman in your life. You’re not getting any younger and I want grandchildren. All my friends say how lovely it is and I don’t want to miss out.”
“I date.” Josiah felt mulish. Every time he saw his mother she started on her favorite subjects. Him, in love and married, with a house filled with grandchildren. Did she think he wasn’t trying?
“I want nothing more in life than to see you happily married with children. You’ll be a wonderful husband and father.”
Josiah wasn’t so sure of that. His dad hadn’t been much of a role model. Oh, no doubt Joseph Byrd had unplumbed depths in other areas. How many women had there been in his life? He knew of one and based on what she’d written, there had to be many more.
Cecily squeezed his hand. “Don’t look so troubled. You’ll do things your way. And when the time is right God will provide the right wife for you.” She held up the card. “May I keep this? I might give this woman a call.” She shook her head in wonder. “A clutter consultant. In my day, we never considered the need for such work.”
In the past, people held on to things out of n
ecessity. There hadn’t been an overabundance of possessions. “Things have changed, Mom.”
“Exactly what I want to discuss with you. I need a change. I want to lease a condo at the beach.”
Chills ran up Josiah’s spine. What had gotten into his mother? “But Mom, you love this place.”
“I do, but it’s more house than I need now that your father’s gone.”
He looked down at her. “Where will those grandkids hang out if you move to a smaller place?”
She flashed him a mocking smile. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I don’t need five thousand square feet to live by myself.”
What had set his mom off tonight? Things hadn’t changed in a year. Why now? “You need to sleep on this idea.”
Her gaze fixed on him. “I have. For months I’ve awakened to creaks that made me think someone was in the house only to find it was my imagination. I don’t like living alone, even knowing there’s an alarm system.”
Josiah had a sudden visual of her checking under every bed and in every closet before going to bed. Why hadn’t he thought of that? His mother had never spent a night by herself until his father died. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
The stubborn determination he knew so well gushed out when Cecily spoke. “Because I refuse to burden you with my fears. Besides, I always loved the beach and your father hated it. Whenever I suggested a beach vacation, he told me to go alone. Every vacation was always some historic battleground.”
Josiah recalled many trips centered on historic sites. He’d wondered why they couldn’t visit an amusement park like his friends. “I suppose buying this house was his accession to your love of water?”
“Probably. Most summers my girlfriends and I lived at the beach. A couple of families had cottages and they invited me along as company for their daughters. I had the best time.”
Her rapt expression held his attention. Josiah could see she really wanted this.
“I long to walk along the beach and enjoy the sunshine. To feel the sand under my feet and the waves against my body.”
Josiah held up his hand. “Okay, we’ll call Renee. She’ll know what’s available.”
“I already know where I want to go.”
His brows rose. She must have given the matter a great deal of thought.
“Richard and Sally have a rental unit at Topsail Beach that would suit me perfectly. A two-bedroom condo. I might even live there full time.”
“A condo? What about this house?”
She shrugged. “You could always rent your place and move back here.”
Josiah couldn’t see himself rambling about this big place alone, either. But he didn’t want to see his parents’ dream house go up for sale. His mom had reasons for not wanting to be here now but that could change. He’d never lived there but remembered the time and effort she had put into every decision when building her home. He didn’t want her having regrets after she’d given it up. “I’d have to think about it.”
“Do. I’ll show you the brochure Sally gave me after dinner. I’m thinking I’ll sign a six-month lease, possibly with an option to buy. Even if I don’t live there, beach property is always a good investment.”
Whoa. Things were moving too fast. “I’m not kidding, Mom. You need to think about this.”
“I have. Every night that I’ve been here alone hoping you’d stop by for a visit or some of my friends would call and ask me to join them. Evidently there’s a rule about widows not being invited to join her married friends’ outings.”
He trailed her into the kitchen where she set about preparing to serve the food. She handed him a bowl of green beans. “Put that on the sideboard, please. And be careful. It’s hot.”
Josiah did as requested and returned to the kitchen to carry the slow cooker into the dining room. They served their plates with roast, mashed potatoes and green beans. He drew out Cecily’s chair before going around to his own chair.
He took a yeast roll from the basket and passed it to his mom. “Did you indicate you’d like to go out with them?”
Cecily returned the basket to the table without taking a roll. “I’ve hinted but they’re either not interested in having me around or are particularly dense. Maybe they consider me a threat because I’m single. My goodness, that sounds silly, doesn’t it?”
TMI, Josiah thought. His parents’ romantic relationship had never been something he cared to explore. And definitely not his now-single mother’s plans for the future. And he was sure her friends didn’t mean anything by their lack of invitations.
“Mom, I’m sorry I’ve been a bad son. I work long hours and then go home and crash. It’s all I can do to get to church and the gym and maintain relationships with my friends, or date in hopes of finding the future mother of your grandchildren.”
“That’s what I’m trying to say. You have your life. I need one of my own.”
“If I’d known you were feeling this way I could have arranged a night out.”
Her offended expression spoke volumes. “I don’t want you spending time with me out of pity, Josiah. I had an active social life before I met your father and we had one while we were married. I plan to enjoy my golden years. Now say grace and let’s eat our dinner before it gets cold. And then I want to hear about your week.”
That night left Josiah shaken to his very core. First that letter and now this sudden change in his mom. Sure, he hadn’t spent a lot of time with her lately but life had been busy. Most nights by the time he remembered to give her a call it was too late. He’d plan to do it the next day only to become preoccupied with something else until it was again too late to call. He needed to do better.
He understood her need for change. Hadn’t he wanted the same for himself all these years? Change in his relationship with his father? His career? His life?
* * *
Downtown, Leah struggled with her feelings of remorse. How could she have done this to her mother? No doubt she’d been humiliated by Josiah Byrd’s accusation. And she couldn’t remember the last time her mother had used that tone with her. This one must rate pretty high on the my-kid-messed-up scale.
She should have known better. How many times had she offered to organize her parents’ house only to be turned down? She’d only wanted to help but her mom had put a stop to that. Leah needed to do what they had requested, keep an eye on the house and take care of their pets. Period.
Not that Champ and Lady needed much attention. She often arrived to find the Welsh corgi sleeping on his bed in the sunlight, the Siamese cat curled up on her parents’ bed or underneath depending on her mood. Leah often wondered if they had moved since her previous visit. Both animals were getting on in years. Still, while she was there, they trailed along behind her. Leah knew they missed her parents.
The whole thing had started simply enough. She’d brought in the mail, sorted and tossed the junk mail and stamped the bills that needed paying. She’d spotted the edge of the letter peeking out from underneath the blotter just before she went to put the outgoing mail in the box. Thinking her mom had forgotten, she’d added an address label and stamp. Look at the trouble she’d caused.
Chapter 3
Leah jerked and dropped the suspense book she’d been reading when the tune played loudly on her cell phone. She really needed to change that ring tone. It was obnoxious.
“Hi. Is this Leah Wright?”
She fumbled around for the book and put a bookmark in place. “Yes, it is.”
“My name is Cecily Byrd. My son had your business card and I wanted to discuss the possibility of your doing some work for me.”
Cecily Byrd? Her son? Suddenly it dawned on Leah that she must mean Josiah. Surely he hadn’t given his mother her card. Not after their encounter. It had been three days and she’d thought him gone forever. She’d p
retty much followed his suggestion and forgotten his existence except for the occasional twinges of remorse.
Still the prospect of doing organizational work prompted her next question. “What did you have in mind, Mrs. Byrd?”
“Well, I’m not sure exactly what you do as a clutter consultant but I need help getting my home organized. If you can’t do it, perhaps you can recommend someone else.”
Wariness filled Leah. Should she do this? Would her presence upset Josiah Byrd further? But what choice did she have? At times, self-support took precedence over everything else. “I’d love to talk with you.”
“Wonderful.”
Myriad questions floated through Leah’s head but she opted to save them for later. “Is there a time you’d prefer? I can come to your home if that’s easier for you.”
“Are you available this afternoon? Say around two.”
Leah wished she could say it wasn’t a good time but her specialty work had taken a hit with the economy. People spent their money on necessities and did the best they could with their organizational efforts. Plastic storage bins were cheaper than human organizers.
Her job sources were generally a referral from a client or a desperate person who couldn’t live in chaos one more day. Still, after more than three years, her business remained too sparse to refuse any job.
She didn’t have a client, and her dad was out of town so they didn’t need her help at his dental clinic. If she didn’t take the job, it would be a very lean month.
Like everyone else, she had expenses and if she didn’t get a new customer soon she would have to ask her father for a loan. She needed a regular income. Definitely more than the hit and miss work she got with Clutterfree and the few days a month at her dad’s clinic.
“Yes, I am.”
“Good. I’ll check with my son and get back to you. I’d like for him to be here.”
So much for her hopes of not seeing Josiah Byrd again. But then she supposed it would be inevitable if she worked for his mother. “Let’s say 2:00 p.m. and we can reschedule if he’s not available.
