Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
As we ate our breakfast, I told Rita about the bizarre conversation I had with Heather the night before. She seemed surprised that her neighbor would call after nine o’clock, just to complain that her adult daughter hadn’t yet returned home from the gym.
“In a way,” I said, “I think Heather considers her as still in high school. Everything in our friend’s life fell apart after that.”
Rita nodded. “I understand. We want to hold onto things as they were. I couldn’t believe that my daughter decided to marry as soon as she did after high school. She hadn’t yet experienced what the world had to offer, yet she wouldn’t listen to my advice. Once she chose her path, what could I do?”
“Probably nothing,” I agreed. “At least you have a grandson to bring you joy in your senior years.”
She shrugged. “Let’s just leave it as ‘I have a grandson.’ He means well in that regard, but he really doesn’t know how to love someone deeply. Heather doesn’t either, so they’ll struggle as the relationship continues.”
I thought you wanted them to be a couple,” I said.
“I do.” She cut another sticky bun and placed it on her plate. “I shouldn’t judge them specifically because I’ve only seen pieces of them that they share with the world. They’ve forged their own lives without a higher purpose, giving them an aura of success and wealth.”
“I wouldn’t say that about Heather. She may have been in a loveless marriage, but she did everything for her daughter.”
“Don’t be so sure about that, Jodie.” She shook her head in frustration. “There I go, judging again. It’s none of my business.”
I mindlessly cut a piece of sticky bun for myself. “Don’t we all focus on ourselves in some way or another? It may not be for wealth, per se, but what makes us happy.”
Rita nodded her agreement. “I suppose I’ve been guilty of choosing my own happiness, especially in my younger days.
I was no saint, that’s for sure. I wish I could turn the clock back and redo some things, but I can’t.
” She paused, thinking, then her gaze returned to me.
“Being present to others isn’t always easy. ”
“No, it’s not, and sometimes we have choices to make. For example, I left my fiancé to come back here because I thought you and Heather needed me more than he did. Was that a correct assessment or should I have stayed by his side?”
She smiled wryly. “I’m glad you came back.”
I returned her smile, then added, “I think you’re right that we shouldn’t judge one another. Honestly, we don’t even know if we’re making our own correct decisions. We have to trust our gut and do what we believe has the better merit.”
“As long as it’s not a selfish choice,” Rita emphasized.
“That’s a good way of putting it,” I said, bringing an end to our discussion.
She offered me another cup of coffee, but I turned it down so I could walk the beach without having to hurry home.
I cleared the table while she filled the sink with sudsy water, then she shooed me out of the kitchen.
“Do me a favor, please,” she said. “I need to use my car and yours is blocking the garage.”
“Would you like me to take you somewhere?” I hoped that didn’t sound too pushy, but I wondered if she’d be okay driving.
“No, I’m fine on my own, but I wouldn’t mind company for dinner. Are you able to join me here tonight?”
“Sure. Do you want me to bring anything?”
She chuckled. “No, I have plenty of food, thanks to you. I’ll be ready by five o’clock.”
“I’ll look forward to it, and I’ll move my car right now.”
Leaving my car on the street, I continued walking toward the beach. I didn’t see Heather or Alicia on the deck when I passed by, but I hoped they had found ways to get used to each other.
I left that thought at the dune bridge, and imagined myself crossing into Nantucket as the young woman in my story. What was my name and what had brought me there? I had no idea.
I was surprised to find Heather on the porch at five o’clock, and we speculated what Rita had up her sleeve. “She invited Alicia, too, but my daughter has a date with the waiter.” Heather gave an eye roll which made me laugh.
Rita came to her front door shortly after. “Please come in, ladies. My kitchen isn’t very fancy, but I wanted to thank you both for helping me on Monday morning. Please take a seat, and we’ll start with a garden salad and vinaigrette dressing.”
“Did you already have the salad dressing on hand?” I asked, knowing I hadn’t bought it for her.
“I made it from scratch,” she said. “Heather, there’s a bottle of wine in the refrigerator and the opener is on the counter. Would you do the honors, please?” I noticed her emphasis on “bottle,” and took it to heart. She never liked that I bought boxed wine.
Heather poured the wine and I took a sip. It had a smooth, velvety feel and a pleasant aroma, which I enjoyed. “Delicious,” I said, glancing to read the name from the bottle’s label.
We ate our salad while talking about our day. Heather told us about her daughter’s interest in Benjamin, the waiter, which she found disturbing because Alicia had left her study abroad program due to illness.
Rita said simply, “He seemed like a nice young man.”
Heather replied, “As far as we know.”
I’d taken a large bite of salad, which included half a tomato wedge, so I chewed instead of commenting. Nobody seemed to notice.
Rita told us she visited a friend in town who hadn’t been to church in a while. “She’s battling cancer all alone, so she seemed happy to see me.”
“That’s sad,” Heather said. “Does she need any food?”
“I brought her some sticky buns, and I think she liked that. We actually had a really pleasant visit.”
What’s her name?” I asked.
“Edna Simpson. A few months ago, she had a little cough and mentioned it to her doctor. He sent her for tests which showed she has lung cancer. Edna never smoked, nor was her deceased husband a smoker.”
“What a shock,” I said. “Is she getting treatment?”
“Yes, but it wipes her out. I should get over there to see her more often.”
“That would be nice,” I agreed. “She might also like to come over here. The two of you could sit on the porch or walk to the dune bridge to see the ocean.”
“We weren’t that close in the past, just part of the ladies’ sodality at church, but she’s all alone. I think she might enjoy that I’m only a few steps to the beach.”
“If it weren’t for my house,” Heather said, “you’d have a full view of the ocean.”
Rita shook her head. “I would take you as a neighbor any day, my friend. The house doesn’t matter.”
Heather put her fork down and leaned forward. “I love you, Rita Bennet. You’ve been there for me when I was a young woman with a small child, and you’re still right here when I need you.”
Rita smiled supportively. “We’re here to help each other, so I’m celebrating our friendship tonight. Our entrée is lasagna, and I’d like Jodie to take it from the oven and put it on the trivets here at the table.”
I did as she asked, and knew she didn’t use the ingredients I’d bought to make it. She also had garlic knots warming in the oven, and I brought those out, too. “This looks delicious,” I said.
We toasted to health and happiness before Heather cut into the lasagna and served each of us. Rita passed the rolls as she announced “Mangiare!”
We did as she asked. We ate and talked and shared funny stories as friends do, and I felt so lucky to be part of the trio. Who knew Aunt Bertha would connect Heather to me, then me to Rita? It just seemed so coincidental, yet I felt it was meant to be.