Bittersweet Memories

by Cecelia Dowdy

  She pushed the thought from her mind, finishing her task. “All done.”

  Keith glanced in the mirror. “It looks perfect.” His caramel brown eyes shone with warmth as he turned his gaze to her. “It’s the best haircut I’ve ever had.”

  After they had settled the bill and he’d paid the receptionist, he came back to Karen’s station. “Do you want to go out to lunch?”

  Karen checked her watch. “I only have a half hour.”

  Keith shrugged. “That’s enough time. We can get hot dogs from the vendor outside and sit on the bench to eat.”

  After they’d gotten their food, Keith blessed their simple meal and told her what was on his mind. “I’m sorry about the other night.”

  “Do you mean when Melanie came over?”

  He nodded. “I know we were going to watch the game together, but I didn’t want to make her leave when she was so upset.”

  “That’s okay. I understand.”

  “I’m glad that you stayed.”

  “I just hope things work out for her now that Duane is out of the picture.”

  “Yeah, she called me last night and told me that she’s moving.”

  “Moving?”

  “Yes. She quit her job and she’s moving to Idaho to open a health food store with her cousin. She’d talked about doing this before she met Duane, but after they got engaged, it was just one more dream he’d squelched.”

  “A health food store. . . That’s a big switch.”

  “I think it’ll be good for her. This is something she’s passionate about, and I think it’ll help her to heal. She wants to keep in touch with both of us.” They ate in silence for a few minutes before Keith spoke again. “You know, I wanted to ask you something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Both of us get up pretty early in the morning. . . .”

  Karen shrugged. “Yeah, so?”

  He finished his hot dog before taking her hand, squeezing her fingers. “You know how much I love cooking, especially after my early morning workouts.”

  Karen furrowed her brow, wondering where this whole conversation was leading. “I know.” She fondly recalled the first time she was in Keith’s kitchen and the way he’d fixed breakfast for her.

  “Well, I hate cooking just for one. So. . .I was wondering if you wanted to come by for breakfast.”

  She smiled. “Sure, when? Tomorrow?”

  He squeezed her hand. “Not just tomorrow, but. . .every day.”

  Karen widened her eyes, wondering if she’d misheard him. “You want me to come to your house every day for breakfast?”

  “Why not?”

  “It would just seem weird, my coming to your house every day to eat breakfast.”

  “Really?” He was silent for a few minutes as he continued to hold her hand. “I think it’d be kind of nice. But if you don’t want to see me so often, that’s okay.”

  He frowned, and Karen wondered if she’d hurt his feelings, so she rushed to explain herself. “I didn’t mean it would be weird in a bad sort of way, just weird as in different.”

  He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

  She balled up the paper from her hot dog, tossing it into the bin beside their bench. “Keith, in my thirty years of life, I’ve never seen anybody I was dating every day.”

  “What about Lionel? Didn’t you see him every day?”

  Karen shook her head. “No, not even Lionel. I guess the thought of my seeing somebody every day is just so new, I–I’m not used to it.” She squeezed his hand, giving him a huge smile. “But I think I like the idea.”

  His frown eased into a smile. “Really?”

  “Yes. Although we’re already seeing each other once or twice a week, I have wanted to spend more time with you, but I just wasn’t sure how often you wanted to see me.”

  “So is that a yes? You’ll start coming by for breakfast every morning?”

  Her smile widened. “That’s a yes.” Her heart pounded as Keith leaned closer, and then he kissed her.

  Sixteen

  Over the following couple of weeks, Keith eagerly awaited Karen’s coming to his home and sharing breakfast with him. He soon found that the more time he spent with Karen and the better he got to know her, the deeper he was falling in love with her.

  As September rolled around, he took Ms. Doris out to the nursery to get her fall chrysanthemums on sale. It had been the first time he’d needed to take Ms. Doris anyplace in months. Since it was Saturday, Karen was busy at the hair salon, and Ms. Doris had been anxious to get her flowers planted.

  “Keith, don’t these look lovely?” she said, fingering the nursery’s white and orange blossoms. “I’m going to set these out in my backyard as soon as we get home. My plants have really been thriving since Karen’s been watering them every day.”

  Keith just smiled, his mind elsewhere.

  As they drove back to his house, Ms. Doris said, “Too bad Karen had to work today. It would’ve been nice having her along.”

  “Mmm,” Keith said absentmindedly.

  Doris continued, “I’ve noticed that Karen has been eating breakfast at your house lately.”

  Keith smiled, nodding while he drove. “Yes.” He was falling in love with Karen, but he wasn’t sure if he should tell Ms. Doris his true feelings.

  “Karen seems much happier now. She’s changed since she’s renewed her faith and started spending more time with you.”

  “Yeah. . . . And you know, although I didn’t like the idea at first, I think it helped her to visit Lionel. She obviously needed closure. And now that he’s out of her life for good, I think she’s on the road to healing.” And hopefully falling in love with me.

  Doris chuckled.

  Taking his eyes off the road for a second, Keith caught her smile, which made him smile in return. “What are we grinning about?”

  Doris hesitated a moment then said, “Keith. . .we’re not just neighbors, but friends, right?”

  “Right.” Where is this leading?

  “And friends can discuss anything with each other, right?”

  Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, Keith replied with a hesitant “Right. . .”

  “So I’m going to come right out and ask you. Are—are you in love with my daughter?”

  While Keith’s mind began to scramble for an answer, he felt the heat rise in his cheeks.

  Doris smiled knowingly. “You are, aren’t you?”

  Keith grimaced. “Is it that obvious?”

  “To me it is. I take it you haven’t told Karen yet.”

  Keith took a deep breath. “Here’s the thing. . . . I don’t know if I should. . .yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, for one thing, I’ve only known her for six months.”

  “Well, that’s true, but—”

  “And for another, she’s on the rebound. I mean, she just came out of a really bad relationship with a man who deceived her in so many ways. He cheated on her, committed a crime, and then disappeared.”

  “Yes, Keith, but—”

  “Well, I really find it hard to believe that she would be ready to hear words of love spoken by another man.”

  Doris was silent, her smile now faded, her brow furrowed. Finally, she said, “Well, all you say is certainly true. So there’s really only one piece of advice I can give you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Pray about it.”

  “I have. But I haven’t gotten a clear answer to that, nor to. . .”

  “Nor to what?”

  “Kyle. My brother.”

  “Oh, right. Kyle. Have you seen him since that day you stopped in at his town house?”

  “No. I call him occasionally, and he sometimes answers the phone, which I guess is a good sign. But our conversations are so stilted. It’s like we’re strangers instead of brothers.”

  “Hmm. Any new ideas of why your father arranged the inheritance the way he did?”

  “Well, I did stop in to see Dad�
��s lawyer, hoping he’d remember something—anything—any reason as to why Dad changed his will. But I came up empty-handed.” He sighed heavily. “I tell you, Doris, my plate is full. Between my feelings for Karen, the issues with Kyle, the search for a school, and taking care of my own business, I feel like I’ve got so much more than I can handle,” he said, pulling into his driveway.

  “What you need, Keith, is to spend an entire day alone with the Lord.”

  “You think? An entire day?”

  “Sometimes that’s what it takes. Trust me. I know what I’m talking about.”

  ❧

  The following Wednesday, Keith took Doris’s advice. He got into his car and drove to Sandy Point State Park. Bible in hand, he grabbed a beach chair from the back of his car and set it up beneath the trees, staring at the Chesapeake Bay in the distance. Since it was near the end of the season, the place was almost deserted. Sitting in the cool breeze, listening to the leaves rustle in the early autumn wind, he read his well-worn Bible, gaining comfort from the scriptures.

  Finally, he bowed his head and folded his hands. Lord, I’ve got quite a load on my shoulders. I want to discuss it with You, one item at a time. He sighed then continued praying silently. Okay, Lord. . . . First, You know I want to tell Karen that. . .that I love her. But I don’t know if she’s ready to hear it right now. Give me wisdom in this situation, Lord. Let me know when the timing is right. He paused, pressing his hands tighter together. And, Lord, I miss my brother, Kyle. I don’t know how to heal the rift between us. On top of that, he hasn’t accepted You, Lord. Touch his heart. Give me the right words to say. Help me to convince him of the gift of eternal life. I ask all these things in Jesus’ name. Amen.

  Feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted, Keith raised his head, his eyes taking in the billowy clouds above him. As he reveled in the cool breeze, the sounds of the water slapping the shore, and the wonder of God’s creation, his cell phone rang, pulling him out of his reverie. Removing the phone from his pocket, he glanced at the display, noting the unfamiliar number. “Hello?”

  A professional female voice sounded. “I’m looking for Keith Baxter?”

  “Speaking. How can I help you?”

  “You’re listed as a contact for Lawrence Baxter.”

  Keith’s heart skipped a beat when he heard his father’s name. “Contact for what?”

  The female sighed. “For his safe-deposit box here at the bank. He needs to make a payment if he wants to keep it open. We’ve called his phone number, but it’s been disconnected. And the payment notice we sent to his house came back as undeliverable.”

  “Which bank is this?”

  “Annapolis Bank and Trust.”

  “Ma’am, my father died almost a year ago. Is it possible for me to have access to his safe-deposit box?”

  “Sir, that’s fine since you’re listed as a point of contact. It’ll also help us if you’d bring a copy of your father’s death certificate as well as your driver’s license.” She then told him the address of the bank.

  Keith packed up his chair and Bible, jumped in his car, and drove away, trying not to break the speed limit, anxious to find out what was in his father’s safe-deposit box. After stopping at his house to get his father’s death certificate, he drove to the bank. When he arrived, he was ushered into the back of the building, where an employee opened the box for him then pointed to an empty room.

  “You’re welcome to go in there and look at the contents of the box.”

  Keith stepped into the room and opened the small box. Inside were a few pieces of jewelry as well as a cream-colored envelope. He opened the envelope and found a notarized letter addressed to him, dated a few weeks before his father’s death. Keith read:

  Dear Keith,

  I know that my remaining days upon this earth are few. With that in mind, I feel called to write this letter, to tell you some things I seem unable to say.

  First, thank you for showing me the way to the Lord. That is something for which I will be eternally grateful. How I wish I could change the past, but I feel content in knowing my future lies in heaven with God.

  Second, I know that Kyle has been troubled since his breakup with Andrea. And my being diagnosed with cancer seems to have sunk him into an even deeper depression. I also know he hasn’t been handling his finances very well lately. Keith, I’m worried about your brother’s physical and spiritual well-being. Please be there for him. Help him sort things out. And try to show him he needs to lean on Jesus.

  And lastly, because of your brother’s erratic behavior, I don’t feel comfortable leaving him a lot of money right now. So I’m leaving the bulk of my estate to you, hoping and trusting that you will allocate your brother’s half whenever you feel he is responsible enough to handle it.

  Keith, you are an extremely levelheaded young man, and I’m proud of you. I trust that you will seek the Lord’s guidance in this matter.

  I love both you and Kyle with all my heart. May God bless you both, in this world and the next.

  In Christ,

  Your father,

  Lawrence Baxter

  Keith held the letter, wondering why their father chose to leave it in the safe-deposit box and not tell him about it. Perhaps this is what Dad was going to tell me about just before he died. Keith stood in the room, lost in thought.

  A knock sounded on the door. “Sir, we’re about to close the bank.”

  Keith stepped out of the room, holding the contents of the box. “May I take these things with me?”

  The woman nodded. “Yes, when your father filled out the paperwork for the box, he listed you as the party who should have possession of the contents in case of his death. Can you step to my desk for a few minutes? I’ll need you to sign some forms.”

  After Keith had signed the appropriate papers, the banker placed the safe-deposit contents into a large padded envelope. Keith carried the envelope to his car and drove home.

  When he arrived at his house, he brought his vehicle to a screeching halt. “Lord, You’ve certainly been busy today answering my prayers,” he muttered, recognizing the classy black Lexus sitting in the driveway.

  Taking a deep breath, he exited his car and walked toward the front door of the house. Kyle sat on the porch, beer bottle in hand. Placing the bottle on the wooden planks, he then stood, staring at Keith.

  Keith swallowed, unsure of how to greet his twin. He eyed the beer bottle again, recalling that the last time he’d seen Kyle, he’d been hung over from a drinking binge. He lifted the bottle, noting it was empty. He set it back down then examined his brother’s eyes. “You’re sober.”

  Kyle lifted his dark eyebrows. “I only had one beer. Give me a break.” The brothers stood on the porch observing one another until Kyle spoke again. “Come on, I wanted to talk to you about something.” He gestured toward the house.

  Keith thought it weird, Kyle inviting him into his own home. But his brother had always been like that, taking the lead, trying to tell Keith what to do.

  “Go on in,” said Keith.

  Kyle grunted. “You’re not thinking, little brother—the door is locked. I tried it when I got here.”

  Rattled, Keith pulled the keys out of the pocket of his faded blue jeans. Keith walked the few steps to the door, opened it, and strolled inside, his brother following close behind. Suzie ran up, tail wagging as she barked a greeting to the brothers.

  Bending down to pet the dog, Kyle’s gaze swept the room as if appraising the value of its contents. “Have you been spending the money that Dad should’ve left for me in his will?”

  Keith gritted his teeth, trying not to lose his temper. This was not the best way to start this visit. Placing the padded envelope on the coffee table, he decided to change the subject. “I haven’t eaten all day. Did you want to order a pizza or something?”

  “You don’t cook anymore?”

  Keith shrugged. “I still cook, but I don’t feel like making anything right now. Do you want to get a
pizza or not?” he asked with a note of impatience.

  Kyle looked away for a few seconds before responding. “Yeah, that’s okay with me.”

  Keith ordered the pizza then grabbed a couple of Styrofoam cups. After putting ice and soda into the containers, he brought them into the living room.

  Kyle looked at the soda then stood. “I’ve got to get something out of my car,” he said. He soon returned with the rest of his six-pack of beer.

  “Man, take that beer out of this house!”

  “I’m not going to get drunk and act stupid. I promise.”

  “I don’t want alcohol in this house. Take it out, now.” Standing face-to-face, the brothers glared at one another until Kyle eventually left the house and returned empty-handed.

  For a few moments, they sat in tense silence, Kyle continuing his survey of the living room. Spotting the brochures for divinity schools on the coffee table, Kyle picked one up and began flipping through it. “You plan on going back to school or something?”

  Kyle had always been good about doing that. After they’d had an argument or disagreement, he smoothly changed the subject, almost as if he was trying to make Keith forget about what had just transpired.

  Between sips of soda, Keith told Kyle about his search for the right divinity school, ending with, “It’s something I feel called to do.”

  Kyle scoffed, tossing the brochure back onto the coffee table. “What’s that mean anyway?”

  Before Keith could respond, a knock sounded on the door. “That must be the pizza,” he said. He strolled to the door and moments later returned to the living room, pie in hand. “Let’s go into the kitchen to eat,” he said. After Kyle was seated, Keith removed two paper plates and napkins from the cupboard. He sat down, silently blessing their meal, then opened the box.

  For a few moments, the brothers ate. Then Kyle broke their silence by repeating the question he’d asked earlier. “What do you mean by you feel called to go to divinity school?”

  Keith chewed and swallowed, carefully choosing his words. “I feel this is what God wants me to do.”

  Kyle removed another slice of pizza from the greasy box. With a smirk, he asked, “How do you know God wants you to do it? Did He knock on your door, come in, and say, ‘Keith, I want you to go to divinity school’ ?”