The Soul Believes It

by Julie Allan

  Pat had a stroke over a decade ago. She had recovered fairly well, but the incident had scared the Wilsons so much, they had sold their home and moved into a cottage on the retirement house grounds, independent living is what it was called, but they had all the amenities of the facility, including housekeeping and yard care. After Mr. Wilson had passed away, Pat had moved into an apartment in the main building.

  Lizzie signed in at the front desk and made her way down the hall to Pat’s door. After having spent time with Aunt Beverley, she had developed a critical eye about what made a good retirement facility, and she was relieved that Pat’s place passed muster.

  Pat met her at the door, her handbag already in the basket of her walker. “Hello! Thank you so much for taking me to the podiatrist.”

  Lizzie hugged her and gave her a kiss on her cheek. “Glad to do it, besides it gives me an excuse to treat my favorite mother-in-law to lunch.”

  Pat stepped into the hall and checked to see if her door was locked behind her. “Only if it’s at The Biscuit Box.”

  Lizzie followed behind her towards the car. “The only place I was thinking of.”

  Several hours later, after the visit to the podiatrist and a stop at the shoe store for some new slip resistant slip-ons, Lizzie escorted Pat into The Biscuit Box, and Faith came over immediately to greet them.

  “I have a table reserved for you!” Faith hugged her Mimi and Lizzie.

  Pat squeezed her granddaughter back. “How did you know we were coming?”

  Faith glanced in Lizzie’s direction, “A little bird who is married to the best uncle in the world told me.”

  Faith led Lizzie and Pat to a table that indeed had a reserved sign propped against the salt and pepper shakers. She handed them menus and went off to fetch two glasses of tea. Pat selected a bowl of the garden gazpacho with a half of a shrimp salad sandwich. Lizzie opted for a slice of tomato pie.

  It was always a strange sensation to be at The Biscuit Box as a customer. When she had decided to give it up, she knew Faith would be the ideal person to carry it forward. Not only was The Biscuit Box surviving it was thriving. The Biscuit Box was like one of her children, and she was so proud of how it had become a long-standing part of the Mount Pleasant community. She told faith about meeting Melanie Graham Fulton and how she was a regular customer and Faith knew who she was.

  “She comes in every week for lunch or picks up a casserole. I’m going to get these orders in, and when it slows down a little, I’ll come and sit with you for a bit.” Faith bustled off to drop the ticket in for the kitchen and help her staff with the last wave of the lunch crowd.

  Lizzie had not shared with Pat the revelations about her mother and her adopted sister, so she began the long story. Pat sat in rapt attention. “Wow, that is better than a storyline on a soap opera.”

  Lizzie nodded, “I know. I feel a little guilty about how I feel about my mother’s parents.”

  Pat reached over and patted Lizzie’s hand. “I have learned in my seventy-nine years that there are some people in this world that you can’t find much to like about. Sometimes they are people in your own family.”

  Lizzie raised her eyebrows.

  Pat smiled and elaborated. “Fortunately, we don’t have anyone in our family like that.”

  Lizzie laughed. “I don’t think so. I sure hope you’re not just being polite.”

  Now it was Pat’s turn to laugh. “Well, maybe my Uncle Albert wasn’t my favorite, he had to pinch my cheeks every time we met, all the way into my teenage years.”

  For the second time in the week, Lizzie had picked up Pat and returned her after her appointment. No time for lunch, Pat had a bridge group that met in the early afternoon. Lizzie had dropped a care package of casseroles and homemade cookies downtown for Sawyer and his roommates and had gotten the puppies to the vet for the next round of their puppy shots.

  It was two in the afternoon with no obligations immediately before her. Lizzie had fixed a spot of tea and was sitting in her chair by the window in her office looking over at the empty chair that had been Aunt Dorothy’s. She had enjoyed catching up with Pat the last couple of days and vowed to make more of an effort to do things with just the two of them. At family gatherings, which were frequent, time for solid one on one conversation was limited, particularly now that Amy and Lizzie’s children were grown and some had children of their own. I thought as we got older life was supposed to slow down, it feels more like a fun park ride that’s lost its brakes.

  The puppies were sound asleep, energy expended at the vet’s. It was so comforting to have fur babies in the house again.

  Lizzie closed her eyes and let her mind wander. She started thinking about flowers which led her to the wedding which led her to the trunk they had discovered Caroline’s dress in.

  Lizzie returned her empty cup to the kitchen. The puppies rose, wagging in greeting as she entered. She took them out in the back yard for a few minutes, gave them a treat and headed for the attic.

  The summer heat was beating down, so Lizzie cranked the air down to make the attic more bearable. She climbed the steps and made a beeline for the trunk. Lifting the lid, she examined the items in the tray sections first. There was a sketch book of finished and half-finished pencil sketches. Most were of lowcountry scenes: marsh, beach, wildlife. A few were of a very young Lizzie, and there was one of her dad that so captured his spirit, she could fancy him walking right of the page.

  There was a calendar listing appointments and such. There were a few purses and hemstitched handkerchiefs. There was a fair-sized wooden box with Caroline’s married monogram on the lid. Lizzie opened it to discover a small collection of seashells. There were several diaries most filled cover to cover, and one that was halfway full. Lizzie flipped to the last entry; it was dated the same day as the car accident that had swept her mother and her father out of her life. Lizzie closed it. Something to take down and get into later. She sat the stack of diaries with the sketchbook by the stairs.

  She lifted out the tray and underneath where the wedding gown had been, were a few items of clothing. At the very bottom of the trunk was a canvas sketched with the three of them as a family. I wonder if Dot would finish this? Lizzie pulled it out to put with her other two finds.

  Downstairs, she sat the canvas and the sketchbook on the dining room table and went to tuck the diaries in her desk. Lizzie was not ready to read them, she would eventually, but just like the letters her mother had written, she needed to gather the courage to pry into her mother’s world, after all, the letters were meant for certain people, but the diaries— well Lizzie was quite sure that was meant for no one but Caroline.

  On their evening walk with the Tucker and Sadie, Lizzie told Bennett about the sketchbook, the canvas, and the diaries.

  “Strange to think it has been up there all these years.” Bennett stopped to allow Sadie to explore a tree.

  “I know, I truly have not been obsessing about all this, but things keep finding me.”

  “Aunt Dorothy would say that means you’re on the right path; I think she called those things God nods?”

  “God winks, that’s what she called them. Yes, I think I’m meant to learn all I can about my mother, her family and maybe even my sister. Not sure about my sister, maybe she belonged to Caroline and Cole and should be left there in the past.” Lizzie tugged on Tucker’s leash, maneuvering him into turning back towards the house.

  “I’d like to look at that sketchbook and canvas when we get back to the house.”

  “You can do that while I fix the ice cream.”

  “Deal.” Bennett grabbed Lizzie’s spare hand in his, and they walked home hand in hand, flanked by two precious puppies.

  Lizzie felt her heart swell. This is the stuff that feeds my soul.

  The car rolled towards Aunt Beverley, but this time it was Bennett at the wheel with Lizzie in the passenger seat. In the back, Dot and Sawyer rode lost in their own electronic devices.

  Lizzie look
ed back at them, not seeing the young adults they were, but the young children they used to be. “I can’t remember the last time we took a road trip as a family.”

  Dot took her earbuds out of her ears. “I do, it was right after Sawyer graduated from high school and we went down to Atlanta for a baseball game.”

  Bennett laughed, “I remember that, you tripped with an ice cream cone in your hand and dropped it on the head of that bald guy in the row in front of us.”

  Dot’s face reddened. “Well, I’m not the only one with that kind of talent in the family.”

  Bennett turned his head to glance at Lizzie.

  Lizzie made a face, “What? I have no idea to what you’re referring.”

  They all laughed, and even Sawyer joined in. For a moment, it was ten years earlier, and the Wilson nest was still full.

  Bennett pulled into the parking area at Serene Oaks. Lizzie and Dot had been, but Bennett and Sawyer were taking it in for the first time. Lizzie had prepared them for some of what they would see and a little bit about Aunt Beverley’s personality.

  Stepping into the lobby, Lizzie went to sign them in, and Sawyer and Bennett took in their surroundings.

  Sawyer was the first to speak, “Whoa, I thought Grandma Pat had a nice place, this must be five-star accommodations.”

  Bennett nodded. “I had no idea some of these places could feel like a luxury hotel.”

  Lizzie collected them, and they made their way to Aunt Beverley’s Suite. Lizzie pointed out the guest suite she had stayed in on her last visit.

  Aunt Beverley was waiting to receive them in her peacock fashion. Today she had on a fuchsia pair of pants with a matching jacket. The jacket had a trim of orange and the silk shell underneath was cream with pink and orange flowers scattered around.

  “Come in, come in! Please have a seat.”

  Bennett and Sawyer sat down gingerly, afraid the silk settee might crush at the weight of them. Lizzie and Dot sat in the Auberge chairs on either side of Aunt Beverley.

  “What a handsome family! Dot, it is so good to see you again.” Aunt Beverley turned her gaze to Bennett. “You must be Bennett, the most wonderful husband in the world from what I hear.”

  Bennett smiled and reached out his hand to hers. “It is such a pleasure to meet you, ma’am, Lizzie has told me such wonderful things about you.”

  Aunt Beverley accepted his hand and raised her other arm to waggle a finger at him. “I see you’re a charmer!”

  She released Bennett’s hand and turned her attention to Sawyer. “So, you must be the Citadel cadet. Mighty fine school, my husband was an alum.”

  “Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Sawyer replied.

  Lizzie could tell he was trying to process it all. This flamboyant woman in her scooter and her Palace of Versailles surroundings.

  “Lizzie dear, would you hand me that velvet box on the table?” Aunt Beverley pointed to a large emerald green box sitting on the coffee table.

  Lizzie reached over and handed it to her. Aunt Beverley opened it up to reveal a set of pearls. The necklace, bracelet and earring set had a luster that was eye catching.

  Aunt Beverley nodded in agreement with the unspoken appreciation on their faces. “They are stunning, aren’t they? Dot dear, these belonged to your grandmother, my sister Annabeth and our grandmother before her. I would love if you would take them, perhaps one of the pieces could be part of your something old for your wedding.”

  Dot stood up and embraced Aunt Beverley. “I don’t know what to say. I mean this is such a generous gift. Do you really want to part with them?”

  Aunt Beverley shooed her back to her seat and fanned a tear away from her eye. “Oh yes, my dear. These should have gone to Caroline and then on down to your mother and so on. Give an old lady the pleasure of giving them.”

  Dot took the box from her, “Thank you, thank you so much!”

  The five of them set in a moment of awkward silence, Aunt Beverley clearly uncomfortable with such an emotional exchange and the Wilsons unsure how to proceed. Bella saved the moment by announcing the private dining room was ready to serve them lunch.

  Lunch was a magnificent spread of dishes Aunt Beverley had ordered with Bennett and Sawyer in mind. The sideboard was laid with fried chicken, a small spiral honey baked ham, red rice, coleslaw, baked macaroni, and cheese and biscuits. There was also a blackberry cobbler with a bowl of whipped cream resting on a bed of ice, ready for dessert.

  Plates piled high, they sat around the table and for a few moments the silence reigned as they dug in. Bennett stopped long enough to take a sip of his sweet tea.

  “This is an impressive spread. Do you eat like this all the time here?”

  Aunt Beverley smiled at the compliment. “I usually dine in the main dining room, which has a menu similar to a restaurant with daily specials. But yes, the chef and his staff here are excellent at their craft.”

  Dot slathered butter on a biscuit. “I guess all those years in Europe meant you missed good Southern cooking.”

  Aunt Beverley nodded. “Beau and I acquired a taste for fine foods from many cuisines, but Southern food is still the only food that feeds my soul as well as my body. My mother was a master of biscuits and sausage gravy, even here it’s not quite equal to hers, although they surpass her fried chicken.”

  Sawyer’s plate was empty, and he glanced over at the sideboard. Aunt Beverley, a skilled hostess, noticed immediately.

  “Sawyer, please help yourself to more.”

  “Thanks, I will, that is the best fried chicken I have ever tasted.” Sawyer turned towards Lizzie. “No offense Mama.”

  Lizzie smiled at him. “None taken. I agree this is the best fried chicken; I need to find out the chef’s secret.”

  Both Sawyer and Bennett refilled their plates as full as their first ones. Lizzie and Dot refrained, wedding attire shopping was fast approaching.

  “Aunt Beverley, would you like me to replenish your plate?” Dot offered.

  “Aren’t you a sweet one! I really shouldn’t, but life is short, give me a scoop or two of the mac and cheese.”

  Dot stood and collected Aunt Beverley’s plate. She returned it with two heaping scoops, and Aunt Beverley eyes brightened in delight.

  “I tell you, I have enjoyed sumptuous pasta dishes all through Italy, but it’s baked mac and cheese that speaks comfort to me.”

  Sawyer at the sideboard again for his third trip heaped more on his plate. “Absolutely!”

  After lunch, they returned to Aunt Beverley’s suite for their goodbyes. Lizzie was the last to offer hugs.

  Aunt Beverley pulled her close and whispered, “You have a lovely and loving family, and you have made this old lady so happy to witness it. I know Annabeth would be so pleased to know her granddaughter and, for that matter, her daughter had such happy homes.”

  Lizzie hugged her back tight. “We are so glad that you are a part of our family.”

  The car ride home was quiet. All lost in their own thoughts about lunch with Aunt Beverley. Sawyer broke the silence about halfway home.

  “You know, I wasn’t sure what to make of Aunt Beverley, she was a bit intimidating with her bright clothes and her shiny surroundings, but I think underneath it all she’s a just a good ole’ lowcountry girl.”

  Lizzie turned in her seat to look back at him. “Yes, she is complicated. Her growing up years were much like my mother’s. She had the spunk to change her circumstances. She also spent the better part of her adult life in the stuffy world of diplomacy and high society living. I imagine that is the root of the colorful and shiny part.”

  Lizzie looked out the window, the marsh grass blowing and the waters of the ACE Basin sparkling.

  “But I think you’re right. Underneath it all is a girl who played under live oaks and magnolia’s and tramped around in the marsh.”

  Dot laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” Bennett asked.

  “I just had a picture flash in my mind of Aunt Beverley i
n a silk suit and wellingtons poking at the crabs at low tide.”

  Another week flew by, and Lizzie still had not cracked the diaries she had found in Caroline’s trunk. She had shared the canvas and sketchbook with Dot and Dot believed she could finish the canvas and had taken it to her house. There were a few sketches of from the sketchbook she decided to frame. Lizzie carefully removed them and took them to the frame shop on her way to meet up with Dot at the florist. The early September sky was bright, and the heat of summer held on with a vise-like grip. The entire lowcountry felt like a hothouse. As much as Lizzie loved the warm weather, she was ready for crisper days. She knew it would be many weeks before they would arrive.

  Dot was already in the parking lot. They walked in together and were immediately entranced by the array of flowers and greenery that met them. Dot had called ahead, and the florist had pulled several catalogs and photo albums of her work for Dot and Lizzie to look through.

  Dot flipped back and forth through the pages. “Everything looks beautiful. How will I choose?”

  Lizzie nodded, “This is overwhelming. I suggest that we narrow it down with a few criteria. First, think about your favorite flowers and then think about the mood you want to set. Is it formal or relaxed? I suppose we ought to have picked your dress first.”

  Dot stopped on a page showing magnolias tied to the ends of pews. “I think I’d like to consider Caroline’s dress, maybe with an alteration or addition.”

  “That dress would really suit you. We’ll need you to try it on. So, what do you think about flowers to go with that dress?”

  Dot pointed to the magnolias. “I think these should be the star of the show.”

  Lizzie smiled. “On your wedding day, you’ll be the star of the show, but I agree magnolias would be an elegant choice. Let’s talk to the florist about what would go with them.”