Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Betsy
Nana turns on the porch light promptly at sunset.
No timer or fancy app to automate it. Just a slow, daily rhythm I’ve come to appreciate and rely on since I moved to Heaven.
The light is on when I finally get home from the lake.
I spent the rest of the day in the shade, watching toddlers with inflatable life jackets falling off their bodies shriek and play and tire out their parents.
A whole variety of birds pecked around for little morsels of food that the toddlers dropped.
It was a whole ecosystem that somehow calmed my nerves.
But now that I’m home to see an envelope with my name on it wedged under the welcome mat, those nerves return.
I’d know Silas’s handwriting anywhere. It’s part choppy lines and the occasional oversized swoop.
Despite the accelerating heartbeat and knot in my stomach just seeing his note, part of me sighs in appreciation.
A handwritten note. It’s charming. Calmer.
Less pressure to respond before one’s ready.
No person on the other end watching for a bubble to appear to know you’re reading their message.
My phone battery died at some point this afternoon, which is just as well.
Nothing good comes from that stupid thing.
I stoop to pick it up, my hand sliding over the smooth side of the envelope to admire my name in Silas’s writing.
Then I flip it over and pop open the flap.
Carefully, I pull out a note written on actual stationary, the kind Nana uses when she takes food over to an ailing neighbor.
A check slides into my hands before I’ve had a chance to read the note.
Ten thousand dollars.
Made out in my name.
My eyes nearly fall out of my head. The bonus. The one Silas promised me if we hit our revenue goals this quarter. The quarter’s not even over yet, so I’m not sure what this is about. I turn back to his note, holding it just right so the porch light highlights what he wrote.
Dear Betsy Mae,
Please accept this bonus. You deserve it even if the season’s not over yet. I know we’ll hit our goals, thanks to you. Harp and Hemline would have certainly failed if it wasn’t for your timely and unorthodox intervention. Thank you for saving my dream.
I also want you to know that I understand if it’s too uncomfortable for you to come back to work for Harp and Hemline.
I won’t apologize for falling in love with you, but I do apologize for pressuring you when I shouldn’t have.
Hopefully the money you earned in the short time we were together is enough to get you on your feet.
My mother would have loved knowing her boutique helped you.
I already spoke to Mary London and she said she needs help at her boutique and would love to hire you. You belong here in Heaven, Mississippi, and I refuse to be the reason you feel that you don’t.
I’m always here for you, in whatever capacity you need me.
Yours,
Silas
I tuck the check in my bra, clutch the note to my chest, and head for bed.
I end up crying myself to sleep. I cry for the girl who didn’t have a mother she could look up to.
I cry for the father who never cared enough to stay.
I cry for the woman who trusted a man who turned her out on the street.
And I cry for the man I’ve fallen in love with.
The kind man who thinks I can live happily without him.
I wake up at dawn, splash water on my puffy face, squirt some drops in my eyes so I look halfway human, and head downstairs. Nana is in the kitchen, still in her robe as she pours coffee.
“Good morning!” I come up behind her and pull her into a hug.
Last night I cried for all the people I didn’t have in my life.
It was healing, a sort of washing away of the past. Today I’m going to focus on my future and all the people who love me.
I may not have had the best example of how to love, but if Silas and Nana will have patience with me, I want to try.
Nana laughs and pats my arms, carefully putting down the hot pot of coffee. I let her go and she turns around.
“What’s gotten into you, my Betsy Mae?” She smiles up at me, ignoring my sunburned cheeks and wild hair.
“I’m fixin’ to call some friends.”
Her smile shines brighter than the sun back at Jasper Lake. “I think that’s a fine idea.”
We move about the kitchen, making breakfast and having coffee together.
I shoot a text to Mary London when we sit down to eat our eggs and toast. Within seconds I have a flurry of messages coming in.
Nana smiles smugly over her coffee cup as I try to keep up.
Then she shoves back from the table to go get dressed for church.
I decide to join her, sticking to the back of the church in hopes of avoiding Silas for right now.
Mary London and her gaggle of friends find me at my car after the service.
“You’ve called upon the right people, darlin’!” Mary London pulls me into a firm hug, then pushes back to examine me. I chew on my bottom lip under her scrutiny. “Come on, then, let’s go back to my place and hash it all out.”
I follow her car, a string of us all going in the same direction.
Mary London lives in a little condo complex just outside the Square.
Darby Kate slides her arm through mine as we walk up the stairs to Mary London’s second-story condo.
Palmer is behind us on the phone with one of her kids, telling them they can’t have syrup in their spaghetti even though elves eat it that way.
Anna Claire turns her phone on silent, declaring that her husband can watch their two kiddos for an hour without her input.
And if he can’t, it’s high time he learns how.
We all assemble in Mary London’s living room while a platter of food materializes, along with sweet tea.
With very little coaxing, I bring them up to speed on me and Silas. They ooh and ahh, then wince when I get to the part about crying and running out of the restaurant. Mary London lunges for me and wraps me in a hug.
“You poor thing. I’d cry too if Silas was bossing me around.”
I return the hug and then try to shrug her off. “Well, that’s just it. He didn’t pressure me. He was kind and sweet and thoughtful. He just told me how he felt and I freaked out. This whole thing is entirely my fault.”
Anna Claire sucks in a deep breath. “Well, you might be right there. I love you, Betsy, but turning down Silas? Really? That man is hotter than a Sunday afternoon in August!”
“It’s about more than looks. Trust me. Looks fade real damn quick when you hit thirty with kids in the mix,” Palmer says with a mama-hen look at all of us.
“Don’t I know it,” Anna Claire mutters under her breath.
Mary London swipes her hands through the air. “Let’s keep this focused on Betsy. You’re scaring her with your married-with-children-and-sleep-deprived stuff.” She turns to me, taking my hands in hers to squeeze them remarkably hard. “Do you love Silas?”
My face is smiling before I can even answer. It’s weird. But I kind of like it. I like that my body goes all warm and soft when I think of Silas. “Yes, I do.”
Darby Kate cheers, tears in her eyes. “I love love.”
Anna Claire snorts but smiles at her friend before turning back to me. “So, why are you here with us instead of with Silas?”
This is where the nerves kick in. “Well, I think I need to work on myself first so I can be the kind of woman who can love him back like he deserves. And two, I need a plan to win him back. He thinks I hate him now.”
Anna Claire leans forward to the coffee table to scoop up some spinach dip with a cracker. “I can help with the first one.”
Mary London clasps her hands under her chin, beaming, as she declares, “Anna Claire is a psychologist.”
“Oh.” Well, shit, I wasn’t planning on actually talking to a professional today.
Anna Claire sits back, cheeks full of food as she responds. “Don’t worry. I’m a good listener, mostly.”
“You do ask good thought-provoking questions, though,” Darby Kate adds. “You really helped me deal with Aunt Birdie when I was trying to buy the boutique from her.”
Anna Claire pats Darby Kate’s hand. Then she turns to me, her eyes laser focused. “So, tell me why you’re reluctant to fall in love with Silas. Give me the big, scary reasons.”
I swallow hard. “Okay. Um, well, first up would be my mother issues. She flitted from boyfriend to boyfriend growing up, never committing. She’d think he was a savior at the beginning, ignoring everything else in her life while things were good, and then by the end, he was a terrible person and ruined everything.
It was an unhealthy cycle. I vowed never to do that. ”
Anna Claire nods. “And have you ever done the same?”
I shake my head. “God, no. I’m pretty reserved. It takes a while for me to trust people.”
“Okay, got it. So nothing like your mom. That one’s been debunked. What’s next?”
I blink. Mary London hands me my glass of sweet tea. “Told you she was good,” she whispers.
“Um, okay, well, I guess daddy issues would be next.” I take a sip of the tea for courage. “He was never around, just floated in and out of my life whenever it was convenient for him. He was in a band. Never really successful, but made enough to keep living the lifestyle.”
Anna Claire purses her lips, studying me. “Is that why you don’t embrace your feminine?”
Wow. Okay.
Mary London takes the glass from my hand. “What Anna Claire is attempting to talk about is your style. It’s unique for around here. Not to say that’s a bad thing,” she rushes to say. “It’s just different and we want to understand you.”
I look down at the long black skirt I found at a thrift store in California, black tank top with a hole at the bottom, and the flip-flops I bought in every color at the Dollar General. Mary London is in a pink dress with more lace and ruffles than a Laura Ashley bed set.
“Uh, well. I guess I just wear what a lot of women in cities wear. We dress to avoid attention. No one loves a mugging on their way to work.” I attempt a joke, but they all look at me with pity.
Then a memory hits me and I find myself reliving it out loud.
“Actually, I remember this one time when I was, like, eight, my dad picked me up for our scheduled dinner and instead of food, he took me to one of his gigs at a bar. I dressed up all pretty in the best Mom could afford. A frilly dress, black Mary Janes that weren’t even that scuffed up, and my favorite necklace I’d made at school during art class.
One of his bandmates kept talking about what I was wearing.
Said since I liked dresses, they should put me in a miniskirt to work the crowd at their next gig.
” Mary London gasps and Palmer lurches forward in her chair like she’s about to go find my father and beat his ass.
I find that my eyes are a bit misty. “I didn’t even know what a miniskirt was, but I knew it wasn’t good. I never did wear a dress after that.”
Anna Claire gets up and crouches down next to me on the couch.
“Betsy, sweetie. You’re living your life playing by other people’s rules.
You didn’t have safety when you were younger, so it makes sense that you’d want to placate and keep everyone happy, but you’re not a child any longer.
You’re a grown woman who is perfectly safe to wear dresses if she wants.
You’re old enough to choose good men to date, or a hottie for a one-night stand!
None of those choices need to go through the filter of the shitty behavior of the people before you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I should wear a slutty dress, take home a random guy, and flip off the world? I’m really good at that last part.”
The girls chuckle. I guess my reputation for flipping people off has expanded beyond just Silas.
“I think you should do whatever your heart wants without fear from old scripts you didn’t sign up for in the first place.”
There’s silence for a bit while we all absorb that advice. Dang, Anna Claire is a genius. In my hopes of not being like my mother, I went about dating Silas exactly as my mother would! No commitment, just temporary pleasure while it lasted.
Darby Kate downs the last of her sweet tea and clanks the glass on the coffee table. “Tell us what you want, girlie, and we’ll help you make a plan to get it.”
I look around at these ladies I call friends.
I think about the man who loves me and is willing to let me go just so I can be happy.
The one who puts me before money or reputation.
I realize I’m happy. I mean, I miss Silas and want to make things right, but I’m content with the life I’ve built here in Heaven.
I have friends. I have a job I’m good at. I have Nana.
And if I get my shit together, maybe I can have Silas too.
I shoot to my feet. “I want to be courted by Silas. For real. For all to see. For me to experience. I want to go on dates and text you all with how it went and smile up at my ceiling reliving the date after he drops me off.”
Mary London squeals, stands up, and hugs me until I can’t breathe. All of a sudden she pulls back, a gleam in her eye that strikes fear in my heart.
“You need a debutante introduction to the dating world of Heaven, darlin’!”
Oh dear God.