Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
THE BENNETT SISTERS MADE the decision in Amarillo to take the route that offered more drive time on the interstate than on back roads. They put in a very long day behind the wheel and spent the night in a motel on the outskirts of their hometown of Wichita Falls. They awoke early the following morning, and as they ate yogurt and granola in the breakfast room, Genevieve eyed her sister over a steaming cup of coffee. “Shall we drive past the house?”
“It’s been a long time,” Helen replied. The last time she’d visited had been when they’d buried their mother eighteen years ago. “Why not?”
Thus began an extended trip down memory lane. They exited off the highway and drove past the church they had attended every Sunday and the restaurant across the street where, on extra special Sundays, they ate out.
After that, they drove through town and past the schools they’d attended. Then they made their way to the neighborhood where they’d grown up. The house looked good. The current owners had made improvements that both Genevieve and Helen liked. When they drove around to the neighborhood pool, Helen asked Genevieve to park, and they went inside. A teenage lifeguard met them at the front desk, and Helen explained they were former members looking around for nostalgia’s sake. He allowed them in, and they walked out of the office and onto the property grounds.
It was a hot summer day, and the Olympic-sized pool was filled with swimmers, mostly under the age of twenty. Genevieve’s gaze went immediately to the deep end, and she gasped. “They took down the high dive!”
Helen the attorney said, “Safety liability issues, I’m sure.”
“That’s so sad.” Genevieve’s gaze swept around. “Not much else has changed. They still have the baby pool. The teen hut sign is gone.”
A bittersweet smile spread across Helen’s face. “This is where I fell in love. That summer was a magical time for me.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t notice what was happening with you.”
“You were a child, Genevieve. You were too busy catching tadpoles in the flower beds and hunting lost change to buy a candy bar at the concession stand to pay attention to me.”
“Remember that time I found the five-dollar bill?” Genevieve grinned at the memory. “That kept me in Paydays for a month.”
Helen shook her head. “I don’t recall that. I don’t recall many details, to be honest. I think the subsequent developments overshadowed the summer.” She sighed and added, “I was so young. Too young.” Her gaze drifted toward the baby pool where a group of adults, mostly in their thirties, watched over toddlers and young children. “Way too young to be a mother.”
Genevieve took hold of her sister’s hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.
“Okay.” Helen straightened and spoke with purpose. “How about a candy bar, for old time’s sake? My treat.”
“Heck yeah,” Genevieve agreed.
“A Payday?”
Genevieve pursed her lips. “Nope. Think I have to go with a Big Hunk under the circumstances.”
“Oh, those were awful. Do they even still make them?”
“I’ll guess we will find out.”
The candy bars remained in production, and the concession stand still stocked them. The sisters retreated to their car carrying candy bars and Cokes. They sat inside with the engine and air conditioner running while they enjoyed their snacks. When they were done, Genevieve asked, “Where to next?”
Helen filled her lungs with air, then exhaled in a rush. “We’ve come to Texas to visit a cemetery. Guess we could make it a two-fer.”
“You want to visit Billy’s grave?” Genevieve asked with sympathy in her voice.
“I think I do. I think I should.” Helen waited until they’d exited the swimming pool’s parking lot to add, “Let’s put some flowers on Mom’s grave while we’re there.”
Genevieve nodded. “You read my mind.”
They drove to the cemetery and stopped at the flower shop at the entrance. Each woman bought two bouquets. Genevieve said, “I know where Mom is buried. Do we need to look up Billy’s location?”
“I remember it,” said Helen. The number was burned into her memory.
Genevieve drove to the section Helen indicated and parked the car. She asked, “Do you want me with you, or do you prefer to do this alone?”
“Come with.” Helen led her sister toward the grave, marked only with a simple plaque that stated Billy’s name and the dates of his birth and death. As a rule, Helen didn’t “do” cemeteries. She didn’t need to visit a plot in the ground to remember those whom she had lost. In fact, this was the first time she’d visited Billy’s grave since the day he was buried.
She’d only visited Will’s grave once.
“I wonder if it’s empty,” she mused aloud.
Genevieve obviously knew exactly what she meant. “Probably so, unless Dad buried something that symbolized his integrity.”
Helen snorted at that, then went silent as she spent some time reliving memories of that magical year when she’d been Billy Poteet’s girl. When she was done, she dipped down and placed the flowers beneath his headstone. She kissed two fingers, then brushed them across his name. Rest in peace, my love. You’d be very proud of our son.
Rising, she smiled and turned to Genevieve. She had a lightness of heart she hadn’t felt in years. “I’m done. Which way to Mom?”
“It’s about a five-minute walk. You up for that, or should we drive?”
Helen glanced up at the afternoon sun. “It’s August in Texas.”
“We’ll drive.” A few minutes later, they approached their mother’s resting place. Helen asked, “When you still lived in Texas, did you visit here very often?”
“I always tried to visit on their birthdays.”
Their. It was a fact that Helen had been shying away from—her mother had been laid to rest next to their father.
Helen kept her gaze on her mother’s marker as she said a brief, silent prayer while Genevieve placed one of the bouquets she held beneath Mom’s headstone. Genevieve, it turned out, was a talker. She said, “You missed a heck of a wedding last week, Mom.” Then she spent a good five minutes catching their mother up on family events.
Helen decided to roll with it, and she placed her own bouquet and chimed in a couple of times.
Finally, Genevieve was done, and she moved on to their dad’s grave. She glanced at Helen, then frowned down at Edward Bennett’s grave marker. “Okay, Dad. I don’t see any sense in berating you over what you did to Helen. You’ve already had to stand in judgment before your Maker. But, dang it, you had a lot of nerve. It wasn’t right.”
Genevieve placed the second bouquet and then spoke to her sister. “I’m done here. You ready to head to New Braunfels?”
Helen read the marker. Edward J. Bennett. Born January 23, 1918. Died July 19, 1989.
She reached down and tugged a white rose from the ribbon-wrapped bouquet her sister had placed on their father’s grave. Holding it by its stem, she twirled it in her fingers. Had she been Genevieve, she might have started talking and not finished before Halloween.
However, she was Helen Bennett McDaniel, innkeeper, attorney, and mother.
She laid the rose on her father’s grave and said the only thing that mattered. “I forgive you.”
New Braunfels, Texas
They made good time on the final leg of their journey. Arriving in the late afternoon, they checked into the vacation property overlooking the beautiful spring-fed Comal River that they had rented. Following the long day of travel with an emotional pit stop, Helen fixed a drink and took a seat on the deck to watch an unending stream of people floating the river in inner tubes—a popular activity for visitors from all over the state. Genevieve refreshed her makeup, then told her sister she’d be back in time for a late supper, and she departed.
Genevieve had wanted her sister to accompany her on this excursion to Texas, but she needed to do this last part alone. It took her twenty minutes to drive to a cemetery a bit outside of town along the Guadalupe River.
This time, Genevieve didn’t take flowers with her. She took the quilt she’d brought from home, the same quilt she’d kept when she’d rid herself of most of her belongings before moving to Colorado. It was the same quilt she’d been bringing to the cemetery since her first visit following David’s burial.
Today had already been an emotional day, and she teared up a little as she walked the familiar path. Upon reaching her husband’s grave, she was surprised to see fresh flowers in the receptacle. But then she recalled that Lucas would have driven past here on his way home from Colorado. Her younger son visited his father’s grave often, even after all these years. He’d told her once that walking beneath these towering oak and pecan trees where his dad had been laid to rest was better therapy than any visit to a shrink.
Genevieve spread out her quilt next to David’s grave and sat down. “Hey, babe,” she said softly. “It’s been a while, I know. Let me tell you what’s been happening since last I visited.”
She started with the children, eldest to youngest, and gave an update on each of their lives. Then she shared the big bomb that had been Adam’s existence and ended with Zoey’s wedding.
At that point, she’d reached the part of her story that had brought her here today.
She wrapped her arms around her legs and began to speak. “Now I need to tell you about Gage. Oh, David. I’ve been such a fool. I knew I still had a heart. I loved the kids, loved my sister and mom. My brothers. But I believed I could never love another man as much as I loved you. I thought it couldn’t happen. You’ll recall—because I came and told you—that a few years after you died, for a few years, I tried. I dated some nice men, but I couldn’t fall in love. And frankly, I was okay with that. I’ve lived a happy life. Not full, but happy enough. I’ve been content. That’s more than a lot of people can say.”
Genevieve absently picked at a loose thread on the quilt.
“All this time, David, I thought that part of me had died with you. Well, it turns out I was wrong. I just hadn’t met the right man.
“You’d like Gage, David. He’s a man’s man, loving and protective. He’s a widow, too. He understands grief, and he’s taught me that the heart is big enough to hold two great loves. That’s what I have now. Two great loves. One doesn’t diminish the other. I have a great big heart that loves two phenomenal men.”
She lay back on the quilt and pillowed her head in her hands with her elbows outstretched. She stared up at the summer blue sky where puffy white clouds shielded the worst of the hot August sun. “I’m going to marry him, David. I hope you’re happy for me.”
A single tear leaked from her eye and trailed slowly down her cheek. “I know you’re happy for me.”
And Genevieve did know that in her heart.
She spoke no more but lay there beside her David’s grave as she had so many times before. Peace surrounded her, warm and comforting like a hug. Finally, her heart lightened, and she sat up and climbed to her feet. She picked up the quilt, gave it a snap, then folded it quickly and efficiently.
She pressed a kiss to her fingertips, then bent and touched her husband’s name. “This is not good-bye. I’ll never say good-bye. Until next time, rest easy, my love. We are doing well. I am doing well.”
Genevieve turned and walked back to where she’d left her car, feeling a little like the Grinch at the end of the book—her heart had grown three sizes. So many emotions for it to hold—love, sadness, joy, excitement, regret, anticipation—and more for which she didn’t have words.
Although, on second thought, couldn’t they all be summed up in one word?
Life.
“That’s pretty profound, Genevieve,” she said to herself. “You’ll have to share it with Helen.”
And then, as if she’d conjured her up, Genevieve saw her sister leaning against the car, her arms folded, a pleasant smile on her face. “What are you doing here?”
“I Ubered over. I wanted to be here when you were done.”
That’s nice. It’s so Helen. “You thought I’d be an emotional mess?”
“Nope. The river is rowdy with all the tubers. I wanted some peace and quiet, and I knew this stretch of the Guadalupe was lovely. I’ve got everything ready for us.”
She pointed toward the riverbank, where a pair of lawn chairs, a cooler, and two yellow rubber tubes sat beneath the spreading branches of a huge pecan tree. Genevieve’s chin gaped. “What crazy idea have you cooked up now, Helen?”
“Those are rocking chairs. See the pistons on the back legs? They’re awesome. Come sit down, Genevieve. There’s a bit of a breeze coming off the river. I brought alcohol.”
“And the tubes? I’m not floating the river, Helen.”
“No, that would be silly. We’d have to walk back to the car.”
It was only when they approached the chairs and tubes that Genevieve spied the ropes tied around the tubes. She shot her sister an incredulous look. Helen shrugged and said, “Have a seat, sis. I brought Bloody Marys.”
Genevieve plopped herself down. She had to admit that her sister had chosen a great spot. Sunset was beginning to paint the sky in a palette of purples and pinks. Somewhere along the river, a bullfrog began to croak. In the trees, cicadas buzzed.
Helen handed her a red Solo cup filled with their favorite adult beverage. Genevieve gave the celery stick a stir and tasted it. “Yum. That is delicious. Thank you, Helen.”
“You are welcome, dear.”
They sat side by side in their rocking lawn chairs, sipping their drinks and gazing out across the river at the sunset. They didn’t speak for the longest time until finally Helen asked, “Did you find what you came for?”
Genevieve gave a satisfied smile. “I did.”
“Good.”
They rocked for a few more minutes. Genevieve said, “Thanks for coming with me.”
“Of course. Turned out to be a trip I needed, too. I’m glad we made the stop in Wichita Falls.”
“I am, too. You seem… at peace.”
Helen nodded. “I am. I’ve been filled to the brim with happiness these past weeks, but underneath it all simmered a rage. I think I’ve come to terms with it. The past, with all of its regrets, is in my rearview mirror. I’m driving toward the light, baby.”
“Wait a minute. That sounds a little too spiritual. We are sitting in a graveyard, remember.”
“We are. And I’ll admit to some symbolism there. Allow me to point out that our backs are facing the graves, and we’re looking toward…”
“Sunset.”
“Speak for yourself, Ms. Maudlin. I’m looking toward the future.”
“Hey, all I’m saying is that in this particular setting, moving toward the light makes me think of endings, and right now, you and I are all about new beginnings.”
Helen smiled at that. “You have a point. Definitely new beginnings and second chances. I have a second bite at the Mom apple, and you have a second bite at being a wife.”
Genevieve snorted. “What are we, a couple of horses?”
“Apparently, one of us is the grammar police.”
“You’re misusing the word grammar . It’s not—”
“Genevieve!”
She laughed, threw her arm around her sister’s shoulder, and gave her a hug. “I love you, Helen.”
“I love you, too, Genevieve.”
“I’m going to miss you when you’re in Texas.”
“No, you won’t. You won’t have time. You’ll be busy having all of that newlywed sex.”
Genevieve stirred her drink. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Helen elbowed her in the ribs. “Witch.”
They sat in silence as the colors in the sky turned brilliant. As often happened at the end of the day, the wind stilled, and the August evening grew stifling. Genevieve eyed the tubes. “It’s awfully hot.”
“You ready to take a dip?”
“Did you bring swimsuits?” When Helen simply looked at her and rolled her eyes, Genevieve said, “I’m not skinny-dipping, and neither are you. Nobody needs to see that.”
“There’s nobody here.”
Genevieve jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “I believe in the afterlife.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Helen flipped open the cooler and removed the libation-filled thermos. She topped off their Solo cups, rose, and said, “Live a little.”
Live, with a capital L. Genevieve’s teeth nibbled at her lower lip. “I haven’t skinny-dipped since I was seventeen.”
“See? There you go. Second chances, baby!” Helen set down her cup and reached for the hem of her shirt.
“Can’t we wait until it’s a little bit darker?” Genevieve asked as her sister’s top came off.
Helen was wearing a sports bra. Genevieve had to admit that was more swimsuit than what many women floating the river past their vacation rental had been wearing. Helen reached into her tote bag and pulled out a pair of towels. She tossed one to her sister. “The tubes will hide everything important.”
Helen slid out of her shorts and stacked them on top of her shirt. She picked up the tube and hooked it and her towel over her left shoulder. With her right hand, she grabbed her Bloody Mary and then started down the riverbank, saying, “See this cottonwood? We’re going to tie our ropes around it so we don’t drift away.”
Genevieve turned and cast a wary gaze around the cemetery. “They close the cemetery at dark. There’s bound to be a security check.”
“Would you stop it? If worse comes to worst, we can call Lucas. He’ll bail us out.”
“That’s all I need,” Genevieve grumbled.
The inner tube splashed. Helen climbed aboard. Genevieve was relieved to see that her sister had kept her bra and panties on.
“Come on in, dear. The water is so perfect.”
“Live, with a capital L ,” Genevieve murmured. Laughing, she stripped down to her underwear and gathered her supplies. Then, just like she’d been doing all of her life, Genevieve followed her sister.
This time, she followed her into trouble.
If only Genevieve had left the thermos up the riverbank with their clothes, they wouldn’t have had that third drink. If they hadn’t had that third drink, they wouldn’t have started playing “Remember When” and telling stories mostly about their brothers, which set them off into giggling fits. Had they not been making so much noise, the security guard wouldn’t have guided his spotlight in their direction.
They received tickets for public intoxication and trespassing. To Genevieve’s relief, the law enforcement officer had declined to write them up for public indecency. They’d had trouble getting an Uber to come to the cemetery at night, so the kind officer had driven them back to their rental and even arranged to have their car driven home.
Genevieve wasn’t certain, but she thought she might have heard him ask Helen for her phone number.
The following morning during breakfast, Genevieve and Helen both declared they’d slept like the dead. This morning’s giggles had nothing to do with vodka and everything to do with the shared joys of sisterhood.
That and thankfulness that they hadn’t drowned or spent the night in jail.
Genevieve drained her second cup of coffee and was glad to note that the final little twinges of her hangover had disappeared. Helen leaned against the kitchen counter with her phone in her hands. Her thumbs moved across the screen as she sent a text. A wave of affection washed through Genevieve. She’d meant it last night when she’d said she would miss Helen. She was inordinately glad that she intended to keep her condo and split her time between Texas and Colorado.
Then she recalled Helen’s comment about the newlywed sex, and she wanted to giggle again. Instead, she asked brightly, “Is there anything you want to do in town before we head down to the coast? I’m looking forward to seeing your new place.”
“Hmm?” Helen glanced up from her phone. “What did you say?”
Genevieve repeated the question. Her sister glanced at her watch and said, “No, I think I’ll be cool with hitting the road. I need to finish gathering my stuff. Want to shoot for leaving in about ten?”
“Works for me. I just have to finish packing.”
“Be sure to put your blood pressure meds in your purse and not in your suitcase.”
That’s weird. “Why? Am I going to need extra today?”
Helen snickered. “Well, it is my turn to drive.”
Genevieve shrugged and retreated to her room to finish packing. When she loaded up her toiletries in the bathroom, she eyed the bottle of pills and shrugged again. She tossed the bottle in her purse and murmured, “That’s what little sisters do.”
Ten minutes later, she wheeled her overnight bag out the front door, punched the lock on her key fob, and opened the rear hatch. She’d just stored the suitcase in the back of the SUV when two things caught her attention. Helen was peeking through the front curtains.
And the roar of a motorcycle had died right behind her.
Genevieve whirled around. At the foot of the driveway, a man swung his leg off the saddle of a Harley and turned to face her. Even before he lifted both hands to remove his helmet, Genevieve had recognized the stance. The man.
She gaped at Gage Throckmorton.
He sauntered toward her, a half-smile on his face, a determined glint in his blue eyes. “Hello, Genevieve.”
“What are you doing here? How did you get here?”
“Now, honey.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “That should be obvious.”
Her gaze shifted from him to the bike, and back to him again. “Okay, the how, yes. The what, no.”
And yet, even as she said it, she knew. A smile flirted on her lips.
Gage took her hand. “I’m here because I’m in love with you and you’re in love with me and we’ve been waiting long enough, don’t you think?”
She nodded.
“Good. Now, I’m going to give this a shot. If I can’t get up, I’m counting on you to help.” He took hold of her left hand with his and reached into his pocket, saying, “I’m counting on you, Genevieve.”
Then Gage went down on one knee and held up a sparkling diamond ring. “Genevieve Prentice, will you do me the immense honor of becoming my wife?”
“Yes. I will. Oh yes, Gage. I will.”
“Thank God.” He slid the breathtaking square-cut diamond onto her ring finger. With only the hint of a creaking knee, he rose back to his feet and pulled her into his arms for a kiss.
Behind the buzzing in her head, Genevieve could hear Helen clapping and cheering.
Finally, he ended the kiss, lifted his head, and smiled down into her eyes. “So, you’re through making me wait?”
“I am.”
“Great. Let’s go get married.” He captured her hand and pulled her toward the motorcycle. “I thought we’d elope.”
“Elope?” Genevieve planted her feet like a stubborn mule and repeated, “Elope!”
“Yes, elope. We’re not getting any younger, Genevieve. I’m not wasting another day. Or night.”
“But… but… but… wait. I can’t elope. What about the kids? The kids should be there.”
Behind her, Helen called out. “No, Genevieve. It’s just weird to have your own kids at your wedding. It’s backward.”
“No, it’s not.” She lifted a panicked gaze to Gage. “I thought…
well… I figured we’d get married at the Glass Chapel in the winter. It’ll be so beautiful in the snow.”
“Sounds great. We can renew our vows at the Glass Chapel this winter. But we’re getting married today. I don’t want to sleep without you for another night.”
“We’re engaged! We don’t have to wait!”
He chastised her with a narrow-eyed stare.
“But, Gage, we can’t just ride off into the sunset on a motorcycle and elope. We don’t have a license. I don’t have a helmet! I’m wearing shorts!”
“Now, sweetheart.” He tenderly stroked a thumb across her cheek. “First, it’s only nine in the morning. Not near sunset. I have everything taken care of. I have a license and leathers and a helmet for you to wear.”
“Leathers! It’s August, and we’re in Texas! It’s going to be a hundred and five degrees today!”
“Not where we’re going, it’s not. It’s only a short ride to the plane.”
The plane. Genevieve’s new engagement ring sparkled in the morning sunshine. Elope. Her heart hammering, her mouth as dry as New Braunfels in August, Genevieve cast an imploring look behind her and met Helen’s gaze. “Don’t look at me,” her sister said. “I’m going to the beach. Actually, I have a hot date with a cop, so you’re not invited, Genevieve.”
Genevieve’s mouth dropped open. “He did ask you out!”
Helen shrugged a shoulder. “What can I say? He liked my underwear.”
Happiness pooled inside her and bubbled like champagne. And yet… she was such a mother. “The kids will kill me. Kill us.”
“They might,” Gage agreed.
“Oh, wait. We can’t. I promised Lindsay we’d do a prenup.”
“She told me,” Gage said. “I had my guy talk to your gal. Paperwork is all ready for you to sign. Right Helen?”
“That’s right. You have an excellent attorney, Genevieve.”
“Think she can help smooth things over with our kids?”
“Genevieve,” Gage said. “Listen. We love our kids to the moon and back. My three, your four. They are our hearts. Since the day they were born, we’ve done our level best to give them a good life. We’ve done that. Actually, we’ve done a damned fine job of that. But they are all adults. They have to live their lives. We get to live ours.”
Tears stung Genevieve’s eyes. He was right. Not just “get” to, but “need” to. As much as they loved their children, they needed to let them go. Only then could they, themselves, fly.
Genevieve ripped away from Gage’s grip and ran back toward her sister. Hugging Helen hard, she said, “I love you. I’m going to do this. I will see you soon. We’ll still take sisters’ trips together.”
“Damned right we will. I told Gage that before I gave him this address.”
“Thank you, Helen. You have always been there for me. Every single time, all of our lives. I love you more than words can say.”
“I know, baby sister. Right back at you. Now, go marry your hot cowboy so I can get to know my hot cop.”
Genevieve turned around and hurried back toward Gage. Holding his hand, she took three steps toward the Harley, then abruptly stopped. “I don’t… it’s been years. I’m not sure I can do this!”
“Get married?”
“Ride a motorcycle.”
Gage imitated an exaggerated Texan drawl. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ve got this. You’ll remember. Marriage… motorcycles… it’s like riding a bike. Or a horse. It’ll come back to you.”
“Promise?”
“Oh, baby. I promise.” Gage extended his arm to her. “Come, Genevieve. Come take a ride with me.”