12. Becks The Truly Lucky
JUNE 24, 1976
Tip: Champagne is a hostess’s best friend. It pairs well with practically every dish, adds a general air of celebration to an evening, and tends to produce happy but not overly inebriated guests. I always have a case on hand. You never know when you might have something to celebrate. Or, more to the point, you never know when you might want to turn an ordinary day into a party.
When Becks got home, Townsend was ready and waiting to take her to the airport for a quick flight in their plane, as was their several-times-a-week routine. As she sat beside her husband in the cockpit, so close that her arm touched Townsend’s, she said, over the thrum of the plane’s propeller as they took off, “Do you remember the first thing we did when you got home from the war?”
Townsend laughed. “Remember? Of course I remember.” He raised his eyebrows at her, and she swatted his arm. “Not that. After that.”
The yoke was pulled toward Becks and Townsend and, even though it was close enough that she could fly too, she sat back and relaxed, watching as Townsend used the control wheel to bank left. She loved to be up here with her husband, a world away from any earthly problems. And, even though she could do it herself, Becks still loved it best when Townsend flew her.
“We went to the airport,” he said, reminiscing. The Beaufort airport was four blocks from their house.
“That was when you told me you were going to teach me to fly.”
He kissed her hand. “And now, Becks, I think you might be a better pilot than I am.”
Becks rolled her eyes. Now that was absurd. Becks understood how to read an altimeter, an air speed indicator, the artificial horizon, and directional gyro in a functional way that allowed her to fly a plane. But Townsend was masterful in the air. He was a part of it in a way that Becks simply would never be.
She smiled, gesturing toward the clouds surrounding them. “And this is where you brought me that day.”
Becks gazed out the window at her favorite part of the southern sky, where the clouds and the water became one. There was nothing around them. No people. No land in sight. They were truly one with nature. Before she flew herself, Becks often wondered how Townsend kept it straight, this vast expanse of blue, how he didn’t become disoriented when it all united into one seamless being.
“Where the sky meets the sea,” Townsend said, speaking her thoughts out loud, just like he had more than three decades ago that night he came home.
“Where the sky meets the sea,” she whispered, trying not to get choked up, suddenly overcome with emotion. How many more times would she see this spot with her husband? How many more good days did she have? “I love you, Townsend,” she said, squeezing his hand.
“I love you too, sweetheart,” he replied.
When the summer was over, she knew, her bad days would likely outnumber her good ones; her illness would be impossible to hide. That was when she would tell Townsend. But not a minute before. She wanted their last summer together to be perfect.
Looking at the horizon line, so blue, so cohesive, she said, “It makes you feel small, doesn’t it? The endless everything of the sea and sky and no land in sight?”
Townsend kissed her hand. “You could never be small. And it would take all the infinite everything of the sea and sky to hold the love I have for you.” He sighed. “Becks, I live for this.”
“For what?”
“For flying.”
“I know, sweetheart.” She knew Townsend had worried lately that he was reaching the age in which it was no longer responsible to fly. “Don’t forget fishing and hunting. You live for those too,” she half joked.
He nodded in agreement.
“Oh, Townsend, there’s so much more to life than sport.”
But even as she said it, she knew that, for her husband, life without sport wasn’t life at all. And the unfortunate reality was that age would likely steal so much of what he loved from him, including her. She had imagined a world in which she could help him through that inevitable transition period as they both got older, would be by his side as they took up golf, maybe. But now she wouldn’t be here to do that.
“Oh, I suppose you’re right,” he said. “Speaking of, who’s coming on Saturday, my dear? And do you tell me the theme now or do I guess?”
Becks’s melancholy was replaced by an electric zip of excitement. This was the best part of her week. She ignored that she had already told Townsend both the guest list and their connection. He’d probably been reading the paper and not paying attention.
“The Dodsons from Kinston, the Taylors from Goldsboro, the Corletts from Asheville, the Willises from here, and the Tylers from Bethel.”
Townsend furrowed his brow. “I don’t know the Dodsons from Kinston.”
Becks peered at him. “Townsend, of course you do. Sammy Dodson shadowed you the summer before he went to medical school.”
He paused a moment, then laughed sheepishly. “Oh, of course he did. I’m sorry, love. Seventy isn’t as sharp as I’d like it to be.”
It was an easy mistake to make. They did know an awful lot of people. “Guess what links them.”
“They all went to the same college.”
“No,” Becks said. “But you’re warm.”
“Warm? How can I be warm?”
She laughed. “Just keep guessing.”
“They all have the same profession? They all have children?”
Becks laughed again. “Well, yes, but I’d hardly call that a dinner party connection. That said, you are very, very hot now.”
“Why, thank you.”
Becks rolled her eyes and gestured for him to keep going as the plane made its descent back to the Beaufort airport. She heard the landing gear release and, as was her habit, felt a sigh of relief that they were landing safely.
“I was warm with college. I’m hot with them all having kids…”
As the wheels touched down on the runway with one of Townsend’s signature, flawless landings, he exclaimed, “After this summer, they will all be empty nesters!”
Becks cheered over the roar of the plane skidding to a stop. “You are a genius!”
He leaned over to kiss her. “No. You, my dear, are a genius. Everyone thinks so.”
“Not my mother,” she muttered.
Townsend examined Becks’s face. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to talk about it, so I haven’t asked. But…”
Becks shook her head, and Townsend said, seamlessly, “I thought maybe we could pick up some friends and go for a sunset boat ride? Take the good champagne?”
Perhaps that was the true glory of forty years of marriage, of knowing someone as deeply and intimately as you knew yourself: You knew when your spouse wouldn’t want to talk, so you did something fun instead.
Becks was absolutely exhausted—something she was feeling more and more lately. But she could pretend. For Townsend. And she wondered if perhaps the pretending could help make it so; if she pretended to be well, she would continue to be well.
She kissed him. “I think that would be absolutely perfect.” She lingered for a moment, pulled him close, breathed in the scent of him. Because how many more kisses would she get? How many more days would she have in the arms of the man who had stolen her heart from the moment she had met him?
Half an hour later, walking across the street to the dock, she laid eyes on one of the best things that came along with loving Townsend: Virginia. “My girl!” she squealed, suddenly energized. She raced across the street quicker than she thought possible to wrap her daughter in a hug. She pulled back to look at her, a vision of youth in rolled-up jean shorts paired with a tucked-in T-shirt, a long, sleeveless crocheted vest over top, and high-heeled clogs. Virginia wore the fashions right now so very well. “You look sensational,” Becks said. If there was ever a moment I needed my daughter, it was this one.
Virginia smiled. “I just thought I’d come home for the weekend.”
That, Becks knew, was code for she needed her laundry done, possibly some clothing alterations, and was also, in all likelihood, hoping that Becks would find a new coffee table for her apartment in D.C. But she would, of course. Anything to have her daughter home. Plus, Becks liked to be needed.
Townsend walked up the dock, waving. “Oh, good!” he called. “I was worried about how we’d possibly drink all this champagne.”
Virginia walked to him, her clogs clonking along the dock, and scooted up under his arm. Patricia and Daniel arrived moments later, giving hugs all around. Virginia took off her shoes and held them in one hand as Townsend helped the ladies, one by one, on board.
On the boat, a shining display of polished teak and perfect craftsmanship, with her friends and daughter, Becks smiled, settling with Patricia at the front, Townsend driving, Virginia beside him on the captain’s bench, and Daniel standing, holding on to the console. Townsend had poured them all a hearty glass of Taittinger before pulling away from the dock, and the champagne now bubbling in Becks’s mouth gave the tiring day an exciting edge. She took a deep breath, inhaling the cooling night air out on the water. The hot summer day had given way to this crisp beauty, like it did almost every night. Patricia took a sip from her own glass and said, “So, Towns said you were going to see your mother?”
Becks grimaced. “Let’s just say it didn’t go well. It appears she still hasn’t forgiven me.”
Patricia sighed. “I can’t imagine. I just can’t imagine that my child could do anything that would make me stop speaking to her.”
“Neither can I.” Becks shook her head, turning to look at Virginia and thinking of Lon, her two miracle babies, who she loved with all her heart. It made her feel sorry for her mother because she had missed so much; she had sacrificed the magnificence of her grandchildren for a grudge. After leaving her mother’s house, Becks had cried the entire car ride home. And then she had promised herself that in the short time she had left she wouldn’t shed any more tears over the parents she had lost long ago. They had made their choices. She had made hers.
“Forty years later she is just as stubborn as she ever has been.”
She silenced as Virginia approached. “You look radiant,” Patricia said.
Virginia pushed the long, dark hair from her face. “I’ve been wanting to tell you ever since I got here: I have a boyfriend,” she said, somewhat breathless.
“So, you mean, some lucky soul made it to the second date?” Patricia joked.
Virginia was very, very particular, and quick to find fault. She had plenty of first dates, but very few seconds.
“Is this the same boy you were telling me about last week?” Becks asked. She tried not to get attached to these poor men.
Virginia’s eyes lit up as she turned to her mother. “Mom, you’ll love Robert. He’s handsome and smart and enlightened and everything.”
Enlightened.Becks smiled, thinking at how this world had changed, at how this daughter was so different from her. She was so brave and forward-thinking—and searching for a man who was too. Becks was proud she’d finally found one.
“When can I meet him?” Becks asked. Her heart raced uncomfortably. Would she live long enough to meet her daughter’s new beau? What if they ended up marrying? How would Virginia plan the wedding without her? She shook her head, as if physically shaking off those thoughts.
“It might be a little early,” Virginia said. “But his family has a house in Atlantic Beach, and they’ve invited us to stay for an engagement party for one of his cousins in August. Could I bring him to a summer supper that weekend?”
Becks lit up. “That would be absolutely marvelous.”
“Does he know what he’s in for?” Patricia asked. “And do you know how you’re setting yourself up? Once he’s been to a Becks Saint James dinner party, that’s what he’ll expect from you.”
Virginia smiled, taking a sip of champagne. “Well, whatever it takes.”
Patricia and Becks shared a gleeful look before returning their attention to Virginia. “How are Mimi’s wedding plans coming?” Becks asked.
Mimi was Virginia’s friend, one of the first she had met when she moved to Washington. She had recently become engaged to a handsome young doctor, and her impending nuptials were all the buzz. Virginia’s eyes went wide. “Well, they aren’t actually. She called it off.”
Becks tried not to look shocked. These things happened, of course. Not so much in her day. But maybe it was better to cancel than to endure divorce, which was becoming more and more common.
“Oh my goodness. Why?” Patricia asked.
Virginia leaned in, as if anyone could hear them over the rush of the wind. “Well, I’m not sure what will come of it—or if this is even true—but rumor has it that he killed a patient.”
Patricia and Becks both gasped, and Becks said, “Oh, how awful. She would leave her fiancé over a medical mistake?”
Virginia scrunched her nose and said, conspiratorially, “Well, see, that’s the thing: It wasn’t a mistake.”
Becks felt her own eyes go wide. “What do you mean, it wasn’t a mistake?”
Virginia waved her hand. “Oh, it would be impossible to prove that he purposefully administered a lethal dose of morphine, of course. But I guess Mimi felt sure…”
Patricia’s hand was over her mouth. Through her fingers, she said, “Will he go to jail?”
She shrugged. “I don’t think so. For some reason, the family decided not to press charges, so there’s not much to do. But all I know is that she broke up with him and he left town.”
“Well, that is a real shame,” Patricia said. “So he could be out there hurting other patients and no one would be the wiser.”
The thought made Becks’s heart race, but she took a deep breath. None of this affected her. Getting caught up in other people’s dramas wasn’t exactly the best use of her time these days.
Virginia pursed her lips. “Well, we all think Mimi is crazy. It might not even be true.” She leaned in again. “And even if it is, he is so handsome it’d be worth the risk. He has these eyes that are literally the color of ice crystals, the clearest blue I’ve ever seen.”
“Virginia!” Becks scolded.
“Maybe we don’t know the whole story,” Patricia said. She always worried that one day her husband could be accused of making a medical mistake. It was scary, when you thought about it, to have people’s lives in your hands. Doctors were only human, after all. “I feel badly for him if this is all just gossip.”
Virginia shook her head. “He’ll be fine. He’s from a small town in Kansas, and I’m sure he just went back home to the farm.” She paused. “Although he once mentioned he hated that farm. He had this bat-shaped scar on his hand from a farming accident.” She giggled and took the last sip of her champagne. “We called him Batman because of it. Hopefully he doesn’t start killing off the local farmhands to avenge his injury.”
Becks rolled her eyes at Patricia. “Great. My daughter has a crush on a murderer.”
Virginia laughed and stood up. “Oh, mother, I’m only teasing. Refills?”
“I’ll join you,” Patricia said, walking with her to the back of the boat as Daniel met Becks on the bow. “MD Anderson has agreed to see you,” he said, his voice slightly muted by the roar of the engine.
Becks sighed, sipping her champagne. “You can’t just let a lady die in peace, can you?”
He gave her a withering glance. “Becks, please. At least tell Townsend soon. I can hardly be around him knowing this huge thing he doesn’t know.”
Becks crossed her arms. “Daniel, I’m not keeping things from Townsend. I’m protecting him.”
Daniel laughed. “He’s a grown man. He doesn’t need your protection.”
“Well, he will know soon enough, because I won’t be able to hide it. Until then, let him be happy.”
They both turned to look at Townsend, who was driving the boat, in his element, Virginia cozied up next to him on the bench seat once more. God, she loved those two. At least they’d have each other.
“He is a happy son of a bitch, isn’t he?” Daniel remarked.
Becks teased, “And you, his best friend, want to take that away from him.”
Daniel looked at Becks solemnly. “I think you know that I, his best friend, and a best friend of his wife, only want to soften the blow.” He paused. “No. What I want is to find a solution, a miracle, a cure. I hope you know I would go to the ends of the earth to save you, Becks. The absolute ends of the earth.”
Becks didn’t want to cry again today. She felt quite out of tears at this point. So she just whispered, “I know that, Daniel. I know. If there was anything to be done, we would do it.” She smiled. “I don’t want to leave him. It’s the worst part.”
Although she knew her children would struggle in their own ways, Virginia was really coming into her own now. And Lon was his father’s child, an avid sportsman, an outdoor enthusiast, fiercely independent. They both loved her, of course. They had good laughs and great memories and she had made taking care of them her life’s most important mission. But they would be fine. They had busy lives and bright, shining futures. In the midst of living, they would forget that their mother had died too soon.
Still, she wasn’t so sure about Townsend. She was his beating heart inside his chest. She knew it because he was the beating heart inside hers. He would often say that he was so grateful to be older, so happy that he would never have to live a single day without his true love. The idea of him going before her had always made her feel as though she would break in two. But, as women so often do, she knew she would rather bear that pain than make him feel it himself. So to know that their roles had now been reversed made her feel terribly guilty.
“Please take care of him, Daniel,” she said to her friend. “Please take care of my love when I’m gone.”
“He won’t make it long without you,” Daniel murmured, in a manner so succinct it took Becks’s breath away. When he saw her tear up, he patted her arm. “Don’t worry, Becks. It’s a good thing.”
She gave him a questioning look.
“Only the truly lucky are given the gift of dying from a broken heart.”
It was the most beautiful thing Daniel had ever said.