0.5 Chess Pie & Choices
Page 5
One by one, we had all risen to the challenge until Harley Tanner caught wind of intruders on his land and threatened to hex all of our behinds. We ran away fast enough that we were sure nobody knew who we were. All these years, and we thought we had gotten away with it. Until now.
“Like I told you,” Nana said with a smug smile, “you're a fool to think I don't know you.” Her grin faded. “And that's why I'm saying this to you now. If there is a part of you that thinks that marrying Tucker is not the best decision for your life, then you have my full support to do what you need to do.”
The woman who had taken us in when we'd lost our mother and continued to provide a roof over my head after Dad's death stunned me. “But what about our reputation?” I asked. “It might look bad if I turned down the Hawthorne's son.”
“Honey child, worse things have happened then calling off an engagement. Everyone’s gossipy tongues might wag for a little bit, but then they’ll move on to the next distraction. Nothing devastating would happen.”
“Other than making me a target for ridicule,” I moped.
“You’ve survived worse,” Nana reminded me. “I don't think making a decision in your best interest ranks up there as much as losing both of your parents when you're so young. You've already survived so much.”
I rubbed the aching spot over my heart. “I’m not so sure.”
Nana's expression softened. “You are. Trust me. I know things.”
My fingers traced a wet streak down the condensation on the glass. “I don't think I really know, other than it feels important that I marry Tucker.”
“Why, sweet girl?” Nana pressed.
“Because I love him.” The statement came out more like a question.
“With your heart or with your mind? Marriage isn't something to go into lightly. It ain't easy, and it takes a lot of work. Love is just one of the ingredients. But if the rest of them aren't the right ones…”
My grandmother didn't have to finish her thought. She reached across the table and wrapped her warm hand around mine. “When you're ready, I'll be here for you.”
The screen door creaked open and slammed shut with a bang. “Do I smell chocolate chess pie?” Matt called out.
With a sympathetic smile, Nana squeezed my hand and let me go. “In here, boys,” she answered.
Matt and Lee made a commotion as they crowded into the kitchen, both of them kissing my grandmother on both cheeks. My brother ruffled my hair, and I smacked his arm away, getting up and helping Nana slight slice up some pieces of pie.
As we plated the desserts, she asked me in a low voice, “You know who has the ring, don't you?”
I nodded. “Yeah, it wasn't hard to figure out. But I went on the scavenger hunt anyway just to figure out why.”
“What's the plan?” she asked.
“I’m going to eat at least two slices of chess pie. Then I'm going to go confront the culprit head on and find out and solve the mystery.” And hex his meddling hiney in the process.
Chapter Seven
I strolled through Uncle Tipper’s property in no great hurry, carrying a plate with three slices of pie on it. Nana didn't think my great-uncle deserved the sweet treats, but I assured her that the pie would be my honey to attract the flies of his truth. A light shadow crossed the ground in front of me, and the sharp caw of a crow greeted me. Tipper’s bird, Biddy, followed me the whole way to his front porch steps. She lit on the railing, cackling and squawking.
Tipper sat in a rocking chair, lazily fanning himself with a straw hat and waiting. “Hey there, Charli Bird. Wondered how long it would take you to figure things out.”
I handed him the plate. “Figured it out after following the connection here and yonder and everywhere else. You could have just taken a straight path,” I complained.
Tipper picked up a piece of pie in his hand and took a bite, savoring the gift. “I call this a fittin’ dessert to bring me.” He made noises of satisfaction as he scarfed the pie. “So, tell me. What tipped you off it was me?” My great-uncle choked out a laugh with some crust, pointing at himself. “Get it? Tipped you off? My name is Tipper?” He cackled some more at his joke.
I couldn’t help the smile spread across my lips. Searching my recent memory, I tried to pinpoint the exact moment I no longer worried if the ring was stolen and switched to investigating the reason Tipper had taken the piece of jewelry in the first place. “I guess it wasn't one thing in particular but putting together all the pieces to form one big picture of purpose.”
“Like what? Tell me,” he pressed.
My day's journey had taken me to very specific places. In each one, a growing realization had bloomed inside of me. I wanted to hate my great-uncle, to yell at him and vent my frustration. But I couldn't help but appreciate his way of pulling back the veil and forcing me to see the truth, even if his methods were a bit looney.
“You told me at Tucker’s house to ask for what I wanted, and I did manage to get the chess pie for the engagement party. But one victory in a small battle isn't going to win the war, is it?”
Tipper smiled, more bits of piecrust dotting his snow-white goatee. “I knew you were as bright as your mother. So what's the verdict? Are you still going to go through with it and hitch yourself to a Hawthorne?” When he uttered that last name, he couldn't prevent the sneer on his face.
I was unprepared to make a final decision. And out of all the people in Honeysuckle, the person who needed to hear the words was waiting for me to find the ring.
“Do you have it?” I asked.
My great-uncle frowned. “So, you’re choosing fear. I'm disappointed in you, Charli Bird.”
“Well, you can take your disappointment and eat it with a pound of unicorn’s manure, for all I care. Enjoy your pie, and you better bring back that plate to Nana’s, or she'll hex your hide.” I stood up in a huff.
“Now, now, Birdy. Don't fly off too soon. There are things I need to tell you. Plus, I still have the ring,” he blackmailed me.
I crossed my arms. “You going to give it back to me?”
“If you will sit down here and rock next to me while listening, I will. After I regale you with my story, you can take the precious thing and go. Witch’s honor.” He held up three fingers and placed them over his heart.
I sat down with great reluctance in the chair next to him. He reached his hand out and took mine, unfolding my fist and positioning it in a certain way. With a flourish of his fingers, a glass of sweet tea materialized in my grip. He produced the same for himself, and took a silver flask out of his seersucker suit pocket, adding some of its contents into his drink. He lifted the flask to me, but I refused.
After taking a few sips and smacking his lips, Tipper rocked in his chair and mused in a dreamy voice. “A long time ago in a different place, when I was a year or two younger than you are right now, I encountered a striking young lady who captured my fancy.”
I did my best to imagine Tipper as a handsome young man. All of my life, he’d had snowy white hair, so I had some trouble filling in all the details.
“Stop trying to imagine me as I was and listen,” he demanded. “She was a lot like your mother. Sweet, kind, and so full of life that she filled everyone up with her cheerful spirit. Most people couldn't help but be enchanted by her. Me the most.
“I courted her properly, asking her parents for permission before we even spent a moment alone. I can't begin to tell you how passionate my desire was to make sure that she didn't escape. For you see, she had many suitors. And at that time, I only had my name and a small town’s reputation to offer her. Not much when in comparison to other men who possessed much more power and wealth. Still, she never discouraged me in my pursuits. When the time came, I offered her my grandmother's sapphire ring as a promise of my intentions.”
“Not a diamond one?” I clarified.
He shook his head. “No, my parents were unwilling to let me give her that particular family heirloom. They thought I was too young an
d too impetuous. It took a lot of finagling to procure the sapphire until I showed them that I would not stop until they gave it to me. When I presented it to my girl, I expected her to turn me down. To my surprise, she accepted.”
He had me hooked. “But that was a good thing, wasn't it Uncle Tipper?”
“It gave me great joy, and I can't lie, I lorded it over the other suitors. Now that my girl and I were promised to each other, we could spend more time alone, sharing our thoughts and dreams for our future together. I'm not sure I ever felt that way again ever since.”
In all my years of being around my great-uncle, not once had anybody ever mentioned a wife. I gazed at him in confusion. “When did you marry her?”
Sadness shadowed his face. “That's what I wanted you to hear. I didn't. The more we talked, the more I discovered that the bet I had placed on the table was my whole heart. I was all in. But she still held her cards close to her chest. Her motivations didn't come from a pure love. She saw in me someone who wasn't afraid to take chances and who could take her away from the dull life that she'd known.
“But she couldn't understand that my life would ultimately lead me back to Honeysuckle no matter what. And as much as I adored her, my instincts told me that my love for her wouldn't be enough to carry us through the years. She needed to find her own purpose in life. Or at least to give herself a chance to fall so much in love that making the choice to be married every single day would not become a burden. So I let her go.”
Regret and sorrow ebbed out of my great-uncle. We rocked in silence, his words repeating in my head. His story didn't mirror my circumstances exactly, but I understood why he'd made me go through the exercise of finding the ring. But the consequences of calling off my engagement still outweighed the possibility of finding a better future. I did love Tucker. But was it enough?
Tipper stopped rocking. “Birdy, I wish your young man dared to let you fly free. Or at least that he could see that marrying you right now would be the same as imprisoning you in a cage here in Honeysuckle.”
“It's not as bad as all that, Uncle Tip. I like it here.” But more than once, I’d felt like my life stood still, stagnant like a statue.
“But you haven’t tested your wings enough. You've got more magical talent in your pinky finger than most here in this town.” His watchful eyes gazed at me.
I scoffed. “No, I don't. If it were strong enough, I would have seen the direct line straight to your house.”
He tilted his head. “Maybe you could have…if I hadn't warded you off with a spell. You needed to take the journey more than you needed to find the ring. Speaking of.” He held his hand out in front of him, and a shiny object materialized in the middle of his palm. “Here. Put this in your pocket before Biddy gets in her head to fly away with it again.”
The crow squawked in agitation and interest, and I slipped the ring onto my finger for safekeeping. It glinted and sparkled in the afternoon sunlight. But the weight of the piece of jewelry felt cold and lifeless.
“Thanks,” I whispered. At least my future mother-in-law wouldn’t get to criticize me for failing.
“I can’t ask you to make a decision right this second. But, Charli Bird, try to be selfish this one time and think about yourself. Will you be happier being Mrs. Tucker Hawthorne living a life that is planned for her or as Charlotte Vivian Goodwin, a woman with extraordinary powers that she has yet to completely discover?”
“Is it an either or question, Uncle Tip?” I challenged. “Can't I have both?”
“That's for you to decide. Now, rock with me a little bit longer and keep me company.”
My great uncle left me to my thoughts, my decision changing as often as I seesawed back and forward. I finally ended on a question I needed answering from him. “Uncle Tipper, do you regret not marrying the girl?”
He tapped his lip with his finger. “I think about her from time to time. Never found anyone else whom I admired with such zeal. So, maybe I've regretted not finding the right partner once in a while. But, Charli, I've lived a life that most would give their eyeteeth to experience a fraction of. I might not have settled down with one woman, but I have wooed many to much success and pleasure.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Not much to regret there.”
I so did not need my thoughts invaded with images of Uncle Tipper dating. His confession signaled my time to leave. I kissed him on the cheek and thanked him for giving me back the ring.
“Promise me that you will at least consider my story and today's lesson before you make the final commitment. My greatest desire for you is that you find the happiness in living your most authentic life. If that's with Tucker Hawthorne, then so be it. You'll have my full support. But if it's not, you'll have my support either way.” He flashed me his signature smile full of mirth and mischief. “Good luck, Charli Bird. Spread your wings and fly.”
On cue, Biddy took to the air and trailed me in the air as I made my way across the vast field. Whenever I tired of pondering my future, the crow called out to me as if she knew that the time I had left to make a decision was running short.
Chapter Eight
“I think you should wear the dark blue dress. It makes your eyes sparkle, and your mother loved you in that color.” Nana appraised my final choices for tonight's engagement party from the doorway of my room.
I sighed. “But Clarice insisted she wants me in the black one. She says that a black dress is the most appropriate for special events.” If the pushy woman had her way, she would have chosen every stitch of clothing on my body down to the lace that covered my behind.
Nana clicked her tongue at me. “We've been through this already, and you've run out of time to change your mind. It's always been about choices, sweet girl, and you seem to have made yours. So put on the dress, any dress, and get yourself ready. I have to take one of my pies to Ms. Amelia's house. She's feeling too poorly to attend tonight, but I promised her some dessert. You going to be okay all by yourself?”
I stared at my reflection in the full-length mirror, holding a dress in each hand. I put one in front of my body, switching to the other in indecision. “I’ll figure it out,” I promised.
Nana left, and the silence in the room grew thick with tension. Stress had chewed on my nerves until I barely slept or ate. Making a decision, any decision, became impossible. So I’d stopped making any. In exasperation, I tossed both dresses in the air. Whichever one fell on me would be the one I put on.
“The black dress it is,” I remarked, disappointment fluttering in my stomach. However, I was running out of time to change my mind, so I slipped off my robe and pulled the silken fabric over my head.
Alison Kate had offered to come over and fix my hair and makeup, but I couldn't face my friends by myself. Each one of them had found a moment to pull me aside and asked me if I was sure about staying with Tucker. They all had their reasons and their individual observations to share. I loved them for their concern, but they did nothing to take me out of the hole of indecision I had dug for myself.
I brushed out my hair, leaving it down instead of putting it up as Clarice had requested. That small act of defiance shot a thrill through my veins. Instead of wearing Nana's pearls, I clasped a silver chain around my neck, fondling the simple locket that contained a picture of my mother and father inside. Another zing of excitement rushed through me. It thawed the wall of indifference I’d erected these past few weeks, and a few more rogue thoughts leaked through the cracks.
Unzipping the black dress, I slipped it off and pulled on the dark blue one over my head. Inspecting myself in the mirror, the woman staring back at me captured my attention. Her face was flushed with life, and her eyes sparkled with an energy in opposition to the heavy weight that dragged me down each day. Her hair lay in glorious waves as if she'd let the wind blow free through it. I wanted to be her so much that my chest ached.
I stretched out my hand to the reflection. “Hello. My name is Charli Hawthorne.”
The woman looking back a
t me frowned.
It didn't sound right to me, either. I started over. “Hello. My name is Charlotte Hawthorne.”
The mirror woman wrinkled her nose.
“Charlotte Goodwin Hawthorne,” I tried.
She shook her head.
“Hello. I’m Mrs. Hollis Tucker Hawthorne the Fourth.”
The body of the woman in the mirror shuttered. She bowed her head and extended her hand to me. In a sure voice, she spoke. “My name is Charlotte Vivian Goodwin. But my friends call me Charli,” she finished with a satisfied, confident smile.
Adrenaline pumped through me. All doubt and indecision melted like ice on a hot, humid day. The woman in the mirror would never tether herself to a man who wanted to keep her grounded, unwilling to let her try out her own wings. She would fly as fast and free as life would allow her to, making mistakes along the way but learning from them and growing. She was the woman I wanted to be. She was the one I was choosing to be.
With determined purpose, I changed out of the dress, tossing it on the floor. I didn't have much time or much of a plan, but I moved as fast as possible. Grabbing a backpack from my closet, I stuffed it with the bare essentials for clothing. I had a little money tucked away and more money available to be withdrawn from Mom and Dad. My hands shook as I packed the last things in my bag. Without hesitating, I rushed out of my room and down the stairs. When I made it off the front porch, I paused for a second to assess my next steps.
If I could sneak my way to the town’s border, I could make it to the outer roadside and maybe hitchhike my way out of the area. However, the likelihood of getting caught would be high. How could I succeed if I left on foot? Inspiration took root, and a crazy idea pushed me in the direction of the detached building. Dragging the heavy door open, I gazed at old Joe, my dad's motorcycle that Matt and Lee had gotten into working order.
“Please let the keys be here,” I pleaded into the air. Fate showed whose side it was on when I found the keys waiting for me in the ignition.