Bittersweet Memories

by Cecelia Dowdy

  Pushing the plumber out of her mind, she refocused on her dilemma. “Mom, I’m having the hardest time forgetting about Lionel. I don’t think I ever want to go back to his church.”

  “You don’t have to go back if you don’t want to. The Lord won’t mind if you choose to worship elsewhere. What about your old church home? The one you used to attend with Anna and Monica.”

  “I went back a few times, but everybody there had heard about Lionel’s shenanigans. I just felt so embarrassed, wondering what they were thinking about him, me. . .everything.”

  “Honey, you shouldn’t feel that way. As Christians, we’re supposed to be there to support each other during bad times.”

  Karen shrugged her mother’s comment away. She sat on the bed, bittersweet memories of Lionel littering her brain. The scenes from their time together played in her mind constantly, trapped inside her head. “I loved Lionel so much. It–it’s hard for me to let him go.”

  “Pumpkin, I’m not surprised. You’re in love with him, and you were planning on getting married, raising a family.”

  “I feel terrible. Sometimes I wonder. . .” She gripped the pillow. “I wonder if he was taken against his will. Maybe he was forced to take that money, and he’s being held captive.”

  “Oh, Karen.”

  Karen squeezed her hands together. “Mom, I can’t help it! What if Lionel didn’t take that money and he’s innocent?” Even as she said the words, she sensed they were untrue. Before he was fired, the evidence was gathered, and it appeared he’d taken the money. He certainly didn’t deny it after he was accused. She frowned, recalling other things members of the congregation speculated about. Some of the accusations they’d been flinging against Lionel made Karen again wonder if she should remove her engagement ring.

  “What’s wrong?” asked her mother.

  Karen stroked the floral bedspread, finding the courage to reveal the recent news. “Remember when Lionel disappeared, the assistant treasurer, Michelle James, disappeared also?”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, the police and Pastor Smith finally found Michelle’s mother. Mrs. James has been out of the country for the last month. She didn’t even realize her daughter was missing until she returned to the States.”

  “How awful! What happened?”

  “Michelle’s mother told the police her daughter was having an affair with Lionel.”

  Doris gasped. “Honey, that can’t be true. Lionel loved you—”

  “I’d like to believe that, but I’m starting to feel like he didn’t. Maybe he was going to break our engagement and marry Michelle.”

  “Did Michelle’s mother have any proof of these allegations?”

  Karen nodded. “She had personal e-mails that Lionel had sent to her daughter. Michelle had forwarded them to her.”

  “Have you seen these e-mails?”

  “No, but I’ve heard about what’s in them. It’s quite obvious they were sharing more than just a business relationship.” Karen couldn’t help the bitter tone in her voice. Silently she prayed, Oh, God, why have You allowed this?

  Her mom pulled her into another hug. “Just leave it in the Lord’s hands, and He’ll help you through this,” she advised before releasing her.

  Karen grunted. “That’s easy for you to say.”

  “You know, I suffered a lot when your father passed away a couple of years ago. Remember, I couldn’t work for a few weeks, I was so devastated.”

  “Mom, I’m sorry. It’s wrong of me to be so self-centered right now. I’ve been so irritable and rude since Lionel disappeared, and I shouldn’t be acting like I’m the only person on this earth who’s suffered pain.”

  “That’s okay. In time, the pain will lessen, and you’ll be able to move on with your life.” She paused. “Besides, you should thank the Lord that you found this out before you got married. Can you imagine if you discovered these facts about him after you wed and had children?”

  Karen cringed.

  “Well,” her mom said, patting her daughter’s hand then rising from the bed, “why don’t we shelve this discussion for now and have dinner?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Well, you’ve got to eat. Come on, you can watch me fix dinner, like you used to do when you were a little girl.”

  Moments later, an exhausted Karen sat slumped in a kitchen chair, watching her mother prepare dinner. Soon, childhood memories swept through her as the scent of meat, onions, tomatoes, and garlic filled the room. As steam rose from the mound of spaghetti her mother placed on the table, Karen’s mouth watered. Garlic bread and salad completed the meal.

  After they’d said grace, Karen broached the subject weighing on her mind. “Mom, do—do you like living alone?”

  Her mom poured two glasses of iced tea. “Well, actually. . .no. Since your father passed, this house has seemed so big. . .and empty. Too empty. But now that Keith has moved in next door and joined my church, I’ve discovered I like having someone else around.”

  “Does he visit you every day?”

  “He’ll stop through often enough. Plus, since I don’t drive, I get a ride with him to service every Sunday. He’s nice, compassionate, and caring.”

  Karen sampled her food, savoring the tangy taste of the spices. Smiling, she ate for a few minutes, thinking about her mother’s words and the handsome plumber who’d handed her a tissue when she’d cried.

  Her mom took a sip of iced tea then said, “He also takes me grocery shopping every week. We usually do our shopping together.”

  Karen immediately bristled with jealousy and then found herself saying, “Well, he won’t have to take you grocery shopping anymore. I’m here to do that now.”

  “Pumpkin, he likes doing these things for me. And you know, he’s the one who encouraged me to join the choir.”

  “What?” She couldn’t believe this. “Keith got you to join the choir? How many times have I tried to convince you, since Dad died, that you needed to get out more? And join the choir. You have such an awesome voice. But you kept telling me you were too shy to get up in front of the entire church. But now this stranger moves in next door, and like that”—she snapped her fingers—“you’re joining the choir?” Karen stabbed a meatball with her fork and lifted it to her mouth, wondering if Keith would be coming by all the time, intruding upon her time with her mother.

  Doris raised her brows then ate a few bites of spaghetti and garlic bread, giving Karen a few minutes to calm down. “Well, the main thing is I joined the choir. You should be glad. I know I am. I truly love singing.”

  Karen mumbled, “You’re right, Mom. Sorry for getting so worked up. I’m glad you’re getting out there.”

  “That’s quite all right, honey. I understand.” She paused. “You know, after your friends called me about Lionel, I was tempted to take the train down to Ocean City and drag you home for a visit. A mother’s impulse, I guess. Even though I was covering you in prayer, I wanted to do more. I wanted to take care of you.”

  Karen shrugged. “Well, I’m here now. I—I need this time. . . . Time to try to heal from all that’s happened.”

  “I love that you decided to come home, but I did wonder how long you’ll be staying. And what about your job at the hair salon in Ocean City? You told me you have a huge clientele.”

  “I do, but I can always find new clients here. I already contacted the manager at Hair Care Salon in downtown Annapolis, and they said I can start once I’m settled. Besides, the place where I used to work went out of business.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, the owner sold the property, so I was going to lose clients anyway if I’d stayed.” She sipped her tea. “Mom, I’ve been so depressed lately that I don’t even feel like working anymore. That’s when I thought of coming home. I thought a change in scenery would help me to heal.”

  “Have you been praying about it?”

  Karen winced, recalling how the situation with Lionel had caused a rift in her relationship wi
th God. “I do pray, occasionally. But for the last month, I haven’t even felt like reading my Bible. I just can’t seem to concentrate.” Her shoulders slumped.

  Doris squeezed her daughter’s shoulder. “It hurts me knowing you’re hurting so much. I could just strangle that man for all he’s done.” Her voice hardened with anger.

  Karen sat silently, biting her lip, then said, “Mom. . .where did I go wrong?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “How did I ever make the mistake of getting involved with Lionel? He seemed so genuine, honest, and trustworthy.” She put her fork down, thinking about her failed relationship.

  “I notice you’re still wearing your engagement ring.”

  Karen toyed with the large diamond, recalling Lionel’s bright smile when he’d proposed. Whenever they were out at a social event, he’d always wanted her to show off her diamond. She used to think it was because he was proud of being engaged to her; now she wondered if he just wanted to flaunt the oversized stone. “Yes, I’m still wearing his ring. I’ve gotten so used to having it on my finger that my hand would feel empty without it.” Twirling the ring clockwise, she positioned the diamond so that it faced her palm. “I guess I should remove it. It’s just hard to do, especially since I haven’t heard Lionel’s side of the story.”

  “They still don’t know where he is?”

  “No.” She fingered the rim of her plate. “The judge issued a warrant for his arrest since he failed to show for his court hearing.”

  “I’m sorry, Karen.” She squeezed her daughter’s hand and remained silent for a few seconds.

  Karen changed the subject, asking her mother about her job for the county government, a topic her mother was glad to take up. When that subject was exhausted, Doris mentioned her church.

  “Karen, Pastor Bolton has been asking about you. I told him you’d been going through some difficult times—”

  “Mom, I thought you said you didn’t tell anybody, except Keith Baxter, about what had happened with Lionel.”

  She patted her hand. “I didn’t. I’m just saying that I was talking to Pastor Bolton and I told him you were having some problems. I asked him to pray for you. I also placed your name on the church’s prayer list a few weeks ago, and”—she dropped her fork onto her plate— “here you are on my doorstep! I know the Lord must have wanted you to come home and spend some time with your mama!”

  “Oh brother, Mom, I’m not so sure that’s true.”

  She shrugged. “Sure it is.”

  “I’m still wondering why God let me fall in love with a good-looking, smooth-talking man like Lionel, not allowing me to see his true colors until it was too late.”

  Doris stared at her plate for a few seconds. “Honey, you can’t necessarily blame God for everything. There was no indication at all that Lionel was dishonest?”

  Karen thought about it then shrugged. “If there were any clues about the flaws in Lionel’s character, love made me blind to them.”

  They finished their dinner in silence.

  Two

  Keith tossed and turned, finally getting out of bed at 2:00 a.m., his head pounding with pain from lack of sleep. He reached for a plastic bottle on his nightstand and poured two aspirin tablets into his palm.

  As he rolled out of bed, disturbing thoughts continued to haunt his mind like a bad dream. He traipsed to the kitchen for a drink of water. Lord, please mend the rift between my brother and me. Pulling the gallon water jug from the refrigerator, he poured some into a glass, popped the tablets into his mouth, and guzzled the cool liquid. After a second glass, he lifted the window curtain to see Ms. Doris’s house. The light was on in Karen’s bedroom. Wonder if her problems are keeping her awake, too.

  He put his glass in the sink and found his way into the living room, turning on the light as he went. He lifted the picture of him and his twin brother, Kyle, studying it closely. The photo had been taken right after they’d graduated from high school. He thought about that joyous day and their college years as well—doing some heavy drinking, eating tons of food, and getting together with his brother regularly to discuss problems, women, and class assignments. Their close relationship shifted when Keith had found Christ shortly before they finished grad school. Kyle didn’t understand Keith’s deep devotion to the Lord and couldn’t comprehend why he no longer wanted to go out regularly to get sloshed.

  He sighed and plopped into a chair, thinking about Aaron—a friend, lawyer, and member of Keith’s church who ran into Kyle occasionally since they were in the same profession. Aaron mentioned having seen Kyle the previous day at a restaurant in downtown Annapolis. His brother was with a bunch of people and obviously drunk. Keith hoped Kyle hadn’t driven home that way, and Aaron assured him that he hadn’t. “I saw him leave with a woman, and she appeared sober. I followed them outside and saw her get behind the wheel,” he explained.

  A relieved Keith then told Aaron, “I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know whenever you run into Kyle. He and I have been. . .somewhat estranged since we graduated from college. And since our father died, it’s gotten even worse. He doesn’t answer my phone calls or e-mails. So I finally gave up contacting him.” He’d frowned. “We haven’t talked in six months.”

  Keith placed the photo back on the table and reclined in the chair, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts revolving around Kyle. His brother had always had a drinking problem, even when they were teenagers. Now he tended to drink heavily in the evenings, after he got off from work. Keith wished there was a way to get him to control himself.

  He closed his eyes, silently praying, God, please help Kyle. May he come to know You and get help for his drinking problem. And, Lord, my own incessant worrying about Kyle isn’t helping anything. Help me to curb that tendency, to leave everything in Your hands. He soon relaxed, breathing steadily.

  Drifting to sleep, he thought about his meeting with Ms. Doris’s daughter. Goodness, she was pretty! Her smooth dark skin and large eyes were refreshing like a glass of lemonade on a hot day. Funny how she’d stayed on his mind since he’d met her. He wanted to take the sadness away from her dark eyes and make her smile. He hoped he hadn’t offended her when he’d commented about her problems. He really needed to think before he spoke.

  His thoughts full of Karen, Keith fell asleep, still sitting in his living room chair.

  ❧

  Karen forced her eyes open and glanced at her alarm clock: 6:00 a.m. She blinked, the effects of another sleepless night rippling through her exhausted body. After dragging herself out from between the ivory sheets, twisted and wrinkled from her endless tossing and turning, she dressed then ran her fingers through her hair. Minutes later she entered the kitchen and lifted the window curtain. Her mother’s array of spring flowers adorned the backyard, creating a carpet of color amid the grass.

  Smiling, she reminisced about one of her childhood chores: Always an early riser, she’d watered her mother’s flower garden each morning before going to school. She dropped the curtain and turned, her eyes drawn to the canister of coffee that beckoned. Sighing, she decided to water her mother’s plants before having her morning cup of java.

  Grabbing a light jacket, she stepped onto the small porch at the back of the house and met the cool early April breeze. She stopped, closed her eyes, and inhaled the delicate scent of tulips, daffodils, and lilies. She walked to the side of the house and unwrapped the hose. Pulling the lever on the nozzle, she sprayed a fan of water over her mother’s beloved flowers. As the plants bobbed in the early morning breeze, Karen realized how much she appreciated taking care of her mother’s garden, spending time alone, basking in the scent of flowers.

  When the blossoms were well watered, she turned the spigot off and wrapped the hose around the plastic stand. As she turned to go back into the house, a movement caught her attention. Frozen, she stared into Keith Baxter’s backyard.

  Barefoot, wearing blue jeans with a white T-shirt, he’d stepped onto the porch, seemingly una
ware of Karen’s presence in the adjoining yard. A book clutched in one hand, he took a seat, closed his eyes, and tilted his head toward the sky.

  Karen was finding it hard not to gawk. Was he relaxing or praying? She stepped back, wondering if she should return to the house. No matter what he’s doing, I shouldn’t be staring at him like a lovesick teenager. Quickly turning around, she slipped on a wet patch of grass. “Oh!” She fell, her chest hitting the ground. After lying there for several seconds, eyes open, gasping for breath, she spied an ant crawling across the blades of grass in front of her. She jumped up and felt herself falling backward into a solidly built body. Her heart thudded as masculine arms wrapped around her.

  “You okay?” Keith’s charmingly deep voice resonated in the small yard.

  “Yes!” Stepping out of his arms, she was unhappily aware of the pleasure of their brief physical contact.

  His gorgeous eyes crinkled with amusement behind his glasses.

  Feeling the need to explain why she was standing in a wet lawn at six in the morning, she blurted, “I was watering my mother’s flower garden.”

  He glanced at the moist buds then turned back to Karen. “Yes, I can see that.”

  Silence surrounded them, and Karen wondered if she should make an effort to continue the conversation. Keith beat her to it.

  “Have you had breakfast yet?”

  “Breakfast this early in the morning?”

  He nodded then folded his muscular arms in front of him. “I normally get up at a quarter to five to exercise before going to work, so I’m usually hungry around now.”

  “Oh.” Karen didn’t know what else to say.

  “So have you had breakfast yet?”