All's Well That Ends Well

by Roseanne Dowell

  “Okay, guess I’ll see you then.”

  That was settled. Not sure what we’d find, but I had to find out who Sylvia Calhoun was. I backed out of the drive and a car flew past at break neck speed. What the heck was going on around here?

  I turned down the street and followed it, got to the corner in time to see it fly down Sycamore Street. By time I got to the corner it disappeared. Something mighty strange going on in this town.

  Chapter Six

  Ethel paced in front of her house when I pulled up the next morning. She didn’t even give me a chance to say hello.

  “Did you see in the paper George Jenkins’ car got stole? In broad daylight. It was the car the kids were talking about. They weren’t making it up.” She didn’t pause for a breath. “And last week, old man Bulla’s car got stole, too. But they found that one next to the dump. Probably kids. But same thing, the window was broke out.”

  “Definitely something funny going on in this town. Cars been flying by me left and right it seems. I followed a couple. They turned down Sycamore and disappeared. Ain’t nothing down the end of that street but a dilapidated old garage and a mechanic shop.”

  “You followed them? Are you crazy?”

  “No. Why?”

  “I swear Beatrice Lulu, you’re insane. What would you have done if you caught up to them? If they’re stealing cars, they might be dangerous.”

  “Oh, piddle dash. I was in the car. What could they do to me? One of these days, I’m gonna investigate that old garage. See if anything’s in there.”

  “There’s no way to stop you, is there?”

  I shook my head. Once my mind was made up, no one could change it. Ed could once in a while. Depended what I wanted to do.

  “I guess I’ll have to come along, then. Keep you out of trouble.”

  “You really think Ed meant you should keep me out of trouble? Tsk. Tsk. You know that was just a figure of speech. My goodness, Ethel, you get us into as much trouble or more than I do. And what we don’t think of Lottie does.”

  I chuckled, remembering the time we wrapped our brother’s house with caution tape. Clyde and Clara were out for the evening. What a surprise when they came home. We leaned two dummies against the bench on his porch. Funniest thing was later when Clyde told us how they were out with friends. When they came around the corner, the friend saw it first. Clyde said he laughed and told him his sisters were there. Ethel came up with that idea. And Lottie’s the one who suggested we steal back the alligator him and Lottie’s husband, Hans, stole from Lillian’s yard. Yet Ethel thought she was supposed to watch me. The very idea.

  “Truth be told, I’m almost as nosy as you. So, of course I’m coming along. You might need my help.”

  “Now you’re talking.”

  “So what are you going to say to this girl when we get there?”

  “Good question. I’m not sure.”

  “You mean you don’t have a plan? You, Beatrice Lulu Eberhardt? I find that hard to believe.”

  “Well believe it, cause I ain’t got a clue. Guess I’ll just tell her the truth.”

  Ethel laughed. “And just what, pray tell, is the truth?”

  “That I saw her at the funeral and found her picture and birthday card she sent Norman and before I showed it to Ruth, I wanted to know who she was and what her connection to Norman is.”

  “You don’t think he was….um….involved with her do you? I mean you don’t think he was cheating on Ruth, do you?”

  “I’d hate to think something like that of Norman, but truthfully I don’t know what to think. I just know for several years he wrote her a check every month.” I turned down the street. “Watch for the address.”

  Suddenly my heart raced. Wiping my sweaty palms on my pants, I swallowed back the sour taste that filled my throat. I never felt this way before. Never feared speaking in public. Not even in grade school. I loved giving oral book reports. Hell, I was the first to volunteer for show and tell in kindergarten. Brought my Easy Bake Oven and gave step by step instruction.

  But today was different. Today, I had to ask a stranger about her relationship to a good friend’s husband. What if Norman was having an affair? What was I going to say then?

  “There it is.” Ethel pointed to a small apartment building. “Four fifty four, yep, that’s it.”

  The moment of reckoning had come. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “You okay?” Ethel touched my arm. “You don’t have to do this, you know. We could turn around and go home.”

  Letting out a puff of air, I looked at her. “I could, but that would defeat my purpose. I’d be none the wiser and it would bother me the rest of my life. Let’s get this over with.” I shot off a silent prayer for strength and wisdom and opened the car door. It was now or never.

  “Maybe she won’t be home.” Ethel shoved open her door, set one foot out, stopped, turned and looked at me.

  “That’s always a possibility, isn’t it? Come on, the day’s not getting any longer.”

  I knocked and a thin, pale, redheaded woman appeared, hand resting on the edge of the door as if she was ready to slam it. “Yes, can I help you?”

  Taken aback by her red hair and eyes the color of asparagus, I stared at her until Ethel poked me. Black and white pictures didn’t do her justice. At the funeral with her head covered, her hair didn’t show, and I never got close enough to see her eyes. “I’m sorry. Are you Sylvia Calhoun?”

  “Yes. And if you’re selling something, I’m not interested.”

  “I apologize. I’m Beatrice Lulu Eberhardt. This here’s my sister, Ethel Capony. We’re friends of Norman Calhoun.”

  Sylvia gasped. “What do you want with me?”

  “I saw you at his funeral.”

  “It’s a free country. So what?”

  “Can we come in for a minute? I’d rather not discuss this out here in the hall.”

  She came out into the hall and closed the door behind her. “No can do. I was just leaving.”

  “It’ll only take a minute. Please, it was an eight hour drive.” I came all this way, I wasn’t about to give up that easy.

  She looked at her watch and shook her head. “Don’t have a minute. I’m already late.” She nudged me out of her way and hurried down the steps.

  So much for this idea.

  “What now?” Ethel looked perplexed.

  “Now we get a room and some dinner and come back later.”

  Ethel looked at her watch and shook her head. “Are you really coming back later?”

  “If you think I’m giving up that easy, you don’t know me very well.”

  “Didn’t figure you’d give up. What’s your plan now?”

  I took Ethel’s arm. “Come on, I’m hungry. I’ll camp out if I have to, but we’re going to find out what Sylvia’s connection to Norman is if it kills me.”

  Chapter Seven

  After we registered at the local hotel and got some dinner, we went back to Sylvia’s. One way or another that girl was gonna tell me what I wanted to know. Not that it was any of my business.

  I knocked and waited. A lot of rustling sounded inside. Finally, Sylvia opened the door.

  “You again!”

  “I just have a couple of questions, please can we come in?”

  For a minute the frown on her face looked like she was going to refuse. Finally, she moved aside and opened the door.

  Ethel went in first and waited to see what I’d do. I took a breath, looked at her and wondered how the hell to start.

  “We’ll only be a minute. I was helping Norman’s wife clean out his office and came across some photos of you and a birthday card. That’s how I knew where to find you.” I took another breath and paused. How to ask about her relationship?

  “I see. What about them?”

  “Ruth’s my best friend. My husband, Ruth, Norman, and I spent a lot of time together.” I sighed. This was more difficult than I thought. “I’m sorry. This is awkward. I guess
the best way is to just come out with it. What’s your relationship with Norman?”

  Sylvia smiled. “Please sit down. May I ask why you’re so concerned?”

  “I’m concerned for his wife.” Maybe I was laying it on a little too thick, making sure she knew Norman had a wife.

  “I see. I’m not exactly sure how to explain this. Ruth probably could have done it better than me. Why didn’t you ask her?”

  My blank look must have surprised her. “Yes, Ruth knows who I am. Norman said he told her all about me. He was trying to set up a meeting between us. But then he died, and I wasn’t sure how to approach her.”

  My legs trembled and refused to hold me up. I literally fell onto the couch. “Ruth knows about you?” Why did she lie to me? It didn't make sense and I still didn't know what Sylvia’s and Norman’s relationship was.

  “Norman said she did. This is all very strange. Would you like something to drink? Soda? Ice tea?”

  “Water, please.”

  “I’d like some ice tea.” Ethel sat on the couch next to me.

  Sylvia came back a few minutes later with a tray of cookies and our drinks. She set it down and sat on the chair across from me. “Okay, let me explain. Norman and Ruth are my biological parents.”

  My jaw must have dropped because she laughed.

  “I’m sorry, there’s no easy way to say it. They were young, unmarried and gave me up for adoption. Norman said they’d only known each other about eight months when Ruth got pregnant, and he wasn't ready for marriage, let alone a child.”

  I nodded, unable to speak. Second time in my life I was tongue tied, but this was astonishing news. Ruth knew and didn't tell me. So much for thinking best friends told each other everything.

  “At first Ruth didn't agree but Norman talked her into it. I had great parents and a wonderful life. Well, most of it anyway. I met Norman several years ago through a friend of my dads, one of Norman’s clients. He thought it was a fluke that we had the same last name. Strangely enough, Calhoun is my adopted parents’ name. I took my maiden name, back after my divorce. Anyway, it didn't take long for Norman to figure out I was his daughter. We became friends. The rest, as they say, is history.”

  “Wow!” Ethel said.

  “You said Norman was arranging a meeting with Ruth. Why did he wait so long?”

  “My father passed away just after I met Norman. My mother was ill. I didn't want her to know that I’d met Norman. I didn't want to hurt her. She passed away two months ago. So I agreed to meet Ruth.”

  For the first time since we’d come in, I looked around the tiny apartment. Clean, but cluttered. Toys tossed haphazardly in the corner, several stacks of books and magazines lined the coffee table and a basket of clean laundry sat neatly folded next to the couch. “You have children?”

  “Three, two boys and a girl. Jace is almost thirteen, Olivia’s ten, and Rudy is eight. I’d love for them to meet Ruth. They need grandparents.”

  “Their father?”

  “Left right after Rudy was born. He didn’t like being a dad. Not that he was much of one anyway. Not sure where he is. His parents live in California. They never were much interested in their grandkids. Norman was great with them.”

  We chatted for another fifteen minutes. My heart went out to this young woman who struggled to raise her kids on her own. If it hadn’t been for Norman and his monthly checks, she’d be living in poverty. Her parents’ money eaten up by her mother’s health problems. Yet, she didn’t cry or bemoan the hand fate dealt her. She was upbeat and energetic. What would she do now, without the income from Norman? I had a new mission, to get Ruth and Sylvia together.

  Sylvia looked at her watch and stood. “I don’t want to be rude, but I have to pick up the kids.”

  “Of course.” Ethel and I stood to leave. “I’ll be in touch.”

  “Thank you.”

  Ethel looked at me when we got in the car. “What do you think Ruth’s going to say?”

  “I don’t know, but I sure as hell intend to find out. That girl needs help. She’ll never make it on her own. Hopefully, Ruth will see that. And whether she wants to admit or not, she needs Sylvia.”

  * * *

  That evening, Ed met me at the door with a crushing hug. You’d have thought I’d been gone weeks instead of overnight. “I missed you, honey pot. Don’t go off like that again.”

  “Oh twaddle, I was only gone one night. You couldn't have missed me that much.” I returned his hug with as much enthusiasm. It made me feel good that my husband needed me. “What did you do while I was gone?”

  “I went up to the cabin. The roof’s done and we can start inside now. How about fixing us some lunch?” Ed sat at the kitchen table and picked up a magazine.

  I laughed. “Ah, now I know why you missed me. No one to cook for you. What would you like?”

  “What?”

  “I said, what would you like for lunch?”

  “Anything. I’m hungry.”

  “I don’t know how to make ‘anything’.” I opened the refrigerator, pulled out salad fixings and left over chicken.

  “What?”

  “What kind of dressing do you want on your salad?”

  “Who’s messing with what?”

  What the hell was this man talking about? “I asked what kind of dressing you want on your salad. Didn’t say anything about anyone messing with anything.” I shouted.

  “What dressing?”

  “I swear, Ed if you don’t go for a hearing test, I’m not going to talk to you at all.”

  “My hearing’s fine. You mumble.”

  “No one has ever accused me of mumbling. You’re going deaf.”

  “No. You mumble.”

  I shook my head. Me, mumble, he had to be kidding. Most people accused me of talking too loud. “I’m scheduling an appointment with that new hearing clinic.”

  “Now, Bea. You know how I feel about that.”

  I turned and looked at him, hand on my hip. “I don’t much care how you feel about it, I’m making that appointment and that’s all there is to it. And, yes, you are going! I wouldn’t have pegged you for vanity. There’s nothing wrong with wearing a hearing aid. The ones they have today, you can’t even see.”

  Ed shook his head. “Damn woman, I don’t need no hearing aid. I’ll go and you’ll see. You mumble.”

  It wasn’t worth arguing about. Main thing he agreed. That’s all I cared about. I called and scheduled the appointment. We’d see who was right. Mumble, the very idea.

  Chapter Eight

  The next morning, I left early, anxious to talk to Ruth. She opened the door almost immediately, as if she saw me coming.

  “Ruth, we need to talk.” My friend didn’t appear too receptive. Granted, she was still grieving, going through the angry stage, I think.

  She waved me to a chair and poured two cups of coffee. “I went for a job interview yesterday. Things look pretty good.”

  Obviously, she didn’t want to hear what I had to say. Didn’t matter, she should have known me well enough by now to know I was going to speak my mind, didn’t matter how long she stalled. I’d give her time. Something told me she knew what I was going to say anyways.

  “Where did you apply?” I played along.

  “Dr. Vallinski’s office. He’s a dentist. They need an office manager.”

  “Really, that sounds good. When will you find out?”

  “Tuesday, Orville, that’s Dr. Vallinski, said he liked my credentials even though I’d never worked before. I have a lot of experience running things from my various charity organizations. He said my resume impressed him.”

  “Orville, huh. First name basis already?”

  “He’s very personable. Said he didn’t like his employees to call him doctor except in front of patients.

  “I see. How old is Orville?”

  Ruth shrugged. “About my age, little older.”

  “Married?” Okay, I was being inquisitive and presumptuous. That was me. W
hat can I say?

  “I don’t know. I didn’t ask. What difference does it make? I’m applying for a job, not for a relationship.” Ruth’s face turned red, whether from anger or because I’d hit the nail on the head, I wasn’t sure.

  “Well, I hope you get it if that’s what you want. I just wish you’d take a little time before you make rash decisions.”

  “It’s not a rash decision. I’ve wanted to work for a long time. If I put the house on the market, which I’m considering by the way, that would be a rash decision. I know better than to do that now. Maybe in a year or so. I don’t need this big house. I tried to talk Norman into selling a long time ago, but he wouldn’t hear of it.”

  “I see. Listen, Ruth. I know this isn’t any of my business, but I have to talk to you about your daughter.”

  “Shirley? What about her? She’s all right, isn’t she? I’ve not heard from her since the funeral.”

  “Sit down.”

  Ruth slid into the chair opposite me. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

  “Not Shirley. I meant Sylvia.” I raised my hand to quiet her protests. From the look on Ruth’s face, I could tell I’d overstepped my boundaries. But I started it and I had to finish.

  “I don’t want to talk about this.” Ruth stood.

  “We have to talk about it. You lied to me, Ruth. You knew who that woman was in the picture. You knew who she was at Norman’s funeral. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I told you, I don’t want to talk about it… about her.” Ruth sat and refused to look at me.

  “I went to see her.”

  “You what? How could you? That was none of your business. How did you even know where she lived? How dare you?” Ruth jumped up from the table.

  “Sit down, Ruth. I found a birthday card in one of Norman’s books. Was a complete accident. Norman gave her money for several years, didn’t he? You didn’t know about that until you saw that bankbook.”

  “So what? It doesn’t concern you.”

  “It does now, Ruth. Sylvia needs you. She’s alone with three kids to take care of. That’s why Norman sent her money. She wants to meet you.”