by Beth Byers
“I know you love him, as angry as you are,” Georgette said gently. “So, I will hope and pray for a happily ever after instead. But regardless of that fate—you are my dearest friend and I will love you to the end of time.”
Marian nodded, but she wasn’t any more relieved.
“Did you want to tell me about it?”
Marian shook her head and then whispered, “Not yet. I will.”
Chapter 7
GEORGETTE DOROTHY AARON
Anna Mustly saw them getting into the auto and called, “Oh! Do you mind if I ride with you? Barnaby has gone out with the constables and I would like to bring a little something to Katherine. Is that where you’re going?”
Georgette nodded. She glanced at Marian who seemed to be relieved to open the back door and get into the back of the auto instead. The dogs barked and Georgette clucked, letting all four of them get into the back of the auto with Marian. What was better than the unconditional adoration of furry little friends? Between Marian’s own dog and Georgette’s three, Marian might feel all right again by the time they reached the village.
“We’re going to the grocer and baker first,” Georgette told Anna. “Then back here to get Eunice’s dinner for them. Then to Katherine’s to deliver.”
Anna noted the look on Marian’s face and asked, “I don’t mind running errands with you if you are certain you don’t mind if I come along.” It was apparent she regretted asking, looking at the tear stains that hadn’t faded yet.
“A little distraction is a good thing,” Marian said, avoiding everyone’s gaze.
Georgette nodded and gestured to Anna to join them.
“Tell me about Katherine’s family,” Georgette suggested. “I know she has at least one daughter and a few sons, but I can’t remember the details. Other than the son and daughter-in-law I’ve met, of course.”
Anna looked over and winced a little. “Katherine talks about her daughter the most. Emmanuline looks after her mother more carefully than the other children. But, Katherine has four sons along with Emmanuline.”
“Five children!” Georgette tried to imagine it, but she couldn’t quite envision such a thing. She was an only child. How wonderful would it have been to not be alone all these years after her parents died?
Anna continued. “Katherine’s oldest is John. Next is Mitchell, then Brent, then Jedediah. Emmanuline is the baby. Mitchell is quite a successful banker, Brent is a bit of a rebel, but he works on fishing boats and does all right. Jedediah has a little farm not too far away. John and Jedediah both work in the village over. John worked on autos, trucks, and airplanes in the Great War. When he came home, he opened a garage. Only—”
“Only?” Marian asked, sounding intrigued. Good, Georgette thought, it was important to get lost in other people’s stories. Sometimes seeing the goods and the bads of other lives helped you appreciate your own.
“He was injured a few years back. It’s hard enough with people trying to pay with chicken eggs and potatoes if they can. John is a softie, he takes payment in trade, lets people who owe him money miss payments. Lizette doesn’t have the same kindness.”
Georgette nibbled her thumb as she considered. Impossible. A kind man who struggled to survive unable to say no to those who were also struggling married to a harridan. Something had to give. Perhaps it was one of those who owed him money who’d attacked his wife. Maybe she’d demanded payment and they hadn’t been able to pay? Maybe she’d demanded another form of payment? Georgette couldn’t imagine what.
“Why don’t we see them more often?” Marian asked. “I’m here most weekends and Katherine never has her children around.”
Anna’s mouth twisted. “Lizette mostly. She insists that every family dinner be where she is. It’s easier for Katherine to travel, Lizette claims. Most of them comply with whatever Lizette wants to keep the peace.”
Georgette winced. She’d heard Katherine say many times how she’d raised her children, imagining her grandchildren walking where her children walked. It was a shame that those things didn’t happen very often. It wasn’t, however, a reason you struck another down over.
“That’s what my family is like,” Marian said. “My siblings and I comply with our parents to avoid the conflict.”
Anna and Georgette needed to be congratulated for not meeting each other’s gazes. Instead, Anna turned behind her to Marian and said, “I’ve long been of the opinion that we only have one life to live.”
Georgette could imagine that Marian was wondering what that meant, but she didn’t ask further questions.
Anna, however, didn’t let it lie. “Why would you let anyone else live yours too? There’s a point where the elders in our lives or our smarter siblings or whoever it is that is trying to rule our lives is simply an autocrat. You have one life to live, so don’t let someone else live it.”
“How do you know what to do?” Marian asked softly.
“You have to set aside all the conflicting voices and decide what you want. What you truly want.”
“But what if what you want has a price you don’t want to pay?”
“Then you have to decide if that price is worth more or less than the thing you want. In the end, which choice will you regret the most?”
Marian didn’t say anything else and Georgette didn’t really feel like she could comment. She hadn’t had to choose between family and love. It was odd for her to listen to this. It didn’t trigger her empathy. If anything, Georgette felt irritated, but she didn’t want to be that person.
She hadn’t had the luxury of an opinionated family who cared about her choices. Which wasn’t to say that Georgette didn’t have an opinion. She did. She thought that Marian’s family needed to let Marian live her own life. It wasn’t as if Joseph were cruel or married or far, far too old for Marian. Joseph was, indisputably, a good man who was trying to make Marian happy.
On the other hand, Georgette’s parents lived in her heart, but the days of the clarity of memory regarding them were gone. What would Georgette give to have another day with her mother? To refresh her mind on how mother had smelled and spoke? Georgette hadn’t had the wisdom to ask many of her questions before her mother and father had died. She had thought she’d had more time, and she’d been wrong.
What would Georgette hand over, what price would she pay to have a cup of tea and tell Mum that a grandbaby was on the way? To simply spend a day sipping tea and chatting idly as they had over every holiday? To make a chocolate cake together and dip into the frosting as they laughed? What would she give to wrap her baby in a blanket that had been knitted by a grandmother?
Georgette gripped the steering wheel and commented on the lingering flowers in Anna’s garden. She wasn’t sure that she could handle any of this. Georgette was emotional since realizing she was carrying a baby. Whatever it was about being with child, it left one prone to tears and—perhaps—a touch of madness. There was a piece of herself that she was trying to bury deep that was seething with jealousy of Marian, of Katherine’s children who didn’t appreciate her, of anyone who had loving parents.
Thankfully the village arrived, and Georgette was able to slip off to the teashop to choose a few things for Katherine’s family. Katherine enjoyed Georgette’s odd teas, and Georgette wanted to do what she could to ease her friend’s burden. Georgette made quite a large order when she included buying for herself, for Katherine, and for the poor doctor who was going to be flooded with Lizette’s family.
After she made her purchases, they headed towards the new doctor’s office. As the three women approached, they found Katherine standing outside. She was upset, and Anna held out her arms. Katherine seemed to sink into them.
“I try not to say anything,” Katherine said into Anna’s arms. “You’ve seen. I know you do the same with your children. I try to hold my tongue. John’s a full-grown man. He’s in his fifties, you know. With a grown son of his own, and yet—I’m still his mother. And…and…oh!”
“That never s
tops,” Anna agreed. “Lizette is a difficult woman.”
“Sour! Talking to her is like cuddling a hedgehog with the spikes out. All the time. You can never do anything right. His health isn’t great, Anna. He can’t hold her hand and stay awake for days which is what I think she wants. You’d think she’d care that he’s in pain too. That he’s in pain all the time.”
Georgette was looking at a woman with a motive, she thought, and she didn’t like that at all. She took Marian’s hand for comfort. Was this what it was like when you were a parent? Because that agonized confession was painful to hear. Just watching Katherine’s frustration and worry was painful. The seething jealousy Georgette had been feeling was rising again and she wanted to clock Lizette. Perhaps another blow would help her realize what she had in a mother-in-law. Katherine was so kind. She’d have loved Lizette if it were possible.
Georgette saw Lucy inside and side-stepped the hugging friends, leaving them to their whispered conversation to check on Lucy instead.
Lucy looked up at the sound of the bell and then rose quickly to cross to Georgette, glancing back behind her as she did. Her gaze was wide and she pressed her finger over her lips. There was a tirade happening in the back room.
“What is happening?” Georgette whispered.
Lucy’s voice was barely a breath when she replied. “There’s no pleasing that woman. She doesn’t feel well. You can see that her head hurts, but more medicine isn’t good for her.”
“Can’t the doctor do anything?” Georgette had to admit she had little faith in his ability.
“Dr. West is trying so hard,” Lucy whispered, “but there’s no pleasing her. He muttered something about laudanum. I think he only wants to her to be quiet.”
“I only now arrived,” Georgette whispered dryly, “and I want her to be quiet.”
They both leapt when the woman’s voice rose in rage.
Georgette tucked Lucy close and whispered, “You don’t have to stay, darling.”
“I can’t leave Dr. West now,” Lucy said. “She has stitches on the back of her head and her husband struggles to get around.”
“Did she say anything about who hurt her?”
Lucy shook her head. “Mr. Lynd has asked her about a hundred times, but she says she doesn’t remember yesterday at all.”
Lucy’s tone said she didn’t believe it, and Georgette didn’t either. There was a sound of a crash and Lucy leapt in Georgette’s grasp.
“I’ll take this one,” Georgette said. There was no way she was sending her tender-hearted ward into the room with that villain. She had thought that Lizette would save her venom for her family, but Georgette should have known better.
She crossed to the back room and found the doctor standing outside the door. He wasn’t in the view of the inhabitants of the room, and he blushed deeply when he saw Georgette. “I—”
“You’re leaving?” Lizette demanded of her husband. Thankfully the couple couldn’t see the eavesdroppers.
Georgette met the doctor’s gaze. He looked as if he was about to flee out the back and never return to Harper’s Hollow.
“Sweetheart,” John said. “I have to move or I won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”
“A person tried to kill me. Probably someone you know, and you’re going to abandon me?”
Georgette noted the emphasis, but she didn’t think the doctor had. Someone he knew? Who might know where his mother lived and who knew Lizette was going to be in Harper’s Hollow when she’d appeared unexpectedly? That didn’t quite add up.
“I’m not leaving you,” John protested. “I’m just going to walk down the street and back. You aren’t alone. My mother is here. Dr. West is here. Lucy is here.”
“All useless! Your mother! What can she do?”
“You won’t be alone. I’d never leave you alone after you got hurt, Zette baby, you know I love you.”
There was a ringing cold laugh and then Lizette snapped, “But you did leave me, didn’t you? You left me and then I got hurt. And now you’re leaving me again.”
“Zette,” John groaned. “I have to work. Of course I have to work. Leaving you to earn money for our family isn’t abandoning you. I couldn’t have known what was going to happen. I’m sure Detective Aaron will find who attacked you soon, and you won’t have to be afraid anymore.”
“Oh do you think so?” Lizette’s tone was cruel. “Why can’t you just man through your pain? I am struggling through mine.”
“I can’t stop being injured, Zette. If I don’t move, I’ll be in the bed next to you. You know that—”
Her low-pitched muttering had John sitting back down. Georgette had enough. She walked into the room and told John, “Out.”
“Excuse me?”
“Out,” Georgette ordered. “You know it wasn’t me that hurt her, and your wife needs a moment to collect herself. The doctor has strict orders that she settle down and you need to leave for that to happen.”
“A moment?” Lizette snapped. “Who do you think you are?”
“Go, Mr. Lynd. I won’t leave her until you get back.”
Georgette pulled John Lynd from his chair and nudged him towards the door. “Doctor, go with him. You both need fresh air.”
Chapter 8
GEORGETTE DOROTHY AARON
“You are acting like a spoiled child, making the people around you miserable.”
Lizette glared at Georgette. “I’m the victim here. I was attacked!”
“If I hadn’t found you myself, I’d question whether you were lying.” Georgette took John’s seat and waited for the bell to ring again. “Why are you playing games with what happened?”
“Games? I’m an injured woman here. Why are you attacking me?”
“You sidestepped answering who hurt you.”
The woman’s head tilted and she shrugged. “I was confused. I don’t know who hurt me. I don’t know what happened. I don’t remember yesterday.” Her gaze was fixed on the wall, arms crossed over her chest, and Georgette found it as believable as a child with pie on her face swearing she hadn’t touched the pie.
“I don’t believe you.”
Lizette Lynd’s gaze narrowed on Georgette.
Georgette’s narrowed in return on Lizette.
“Who are you protecting? And why would you protect them?”
Lizette shrugged, a stubborn expression on her face.
“If Joseph does find a tramp in Harper’s Hollow, you’ll be putting the poor man through a lot of trouble. Who was it that hurt you?”
Lizette sniffed, staring at the wall. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know who hurt me, but I think it was probably a tramp.”
Georgette was convinced that Lizette was lying. It wasn’t what the woman was saying, but how she said it. The way she glanced at Georgette out of the side of her eye, the way she had a little smile that came and went. This wasn’t a woman who seemed afraid. She wasn’t worried about a madman bursting through the door and finishing his work. If anything, she seemed calculating.
If Georgette were honest with herself, there was a large part of her that wished to pick up her own broken fence post and strike the woman down. She shook her head and remained quiet, wondering if silence would help. It didn’t. The woman was immovable and refused to say anything but complaints. The amount of dislike rising up in Georgette shocked her, and she bit down on her bottom lip.
“Do you need anything?” she asked, trying to calm her inner rage.
“I’m surprised you care.”
“If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be here,” Georgette snapped, losing patience. “Lucy wouldn’t be here, Joseph wouldn’t be investigating, people wouldn’t be making food for your family and checking in on you.”
“They don’t care about me. They care about Katherine. She’s got everyone fooled. She’s not a saint, you know. Everyone acts like she’s perfect, but she isn’t. She’s as human as the rest of us.”
Georgette stood and walked to the window, watchi
ng John pass by. He hadn’t walked to the end of the street as he’d suggested. Instead he hobbled down a few buildings, turned and went back and forth.
“How long have you been married to John?”
Lizette eyed Georgette as though she thought she was being judged, but Georgette only glanced back out the window and Lizette finally answered begrudgingly. “We met when we were young. Very young really. In chorus for a Christmas production. Ever since then, we’ve loved each other.”
Georgette smiled. There was a bit of softness in Lizette when she talked about John at that moment, and it seemed Lizette might not be so bad.
“I was stupid.”
Georgette winced, immediately changing her mind.
“I threw all my eggs in the Lynd basket without taking a bigger look at the world. Like I said, I was stupid. He’s a dreamer. Always imagining and hoping, but in reality? We’re scraping by.”
Georgette searched for a reply and then pointed out, “Much of the world is scraping by.”
“You aren’t,” Lizette accused. “You’re not digging up carrots in the garden, hoping to find a few more, begging for scraps of cabbage, or more eggs. We have nothing to offer our children except watery cabbage soup. Maybe it would be different if he weren’t—what he is.”
“What is he?” Georgette asked quietly.
“An injured dreamer who wouldn’t work hard even if he could. He was a has-been before he even started.”
“He loves you.”
“And more the fool me, I love him too. Would that I had been more commercial than romantic when I married. Oh look—he’s hobbling this way now. You can always hear him thumping along slow and uneven. He doesn’t have the faith to be healed, he doesn’t have the wit to not get injured, he doesn’t have the will to work through the pain. He doesn’t—” Lizette snapped her mouth shut again.
When John appeared in the door, Georgette left the room, squeezing his arm as she passed. Georgette felt certain that Joseph needed to pin down Lizette again. There was no way that woman was telling the truth.
