Chapter 34
Thirty-Four
Belinda
1984
Joetta was broken in body and mind. No matter how many times the two sisters tried to reason with Bruce Kelly, the pleas met with silence.
Eventually, Bruce answered one of Belinda’s calls.
“I am sure that she won’t understand. She’s too addled to understand anything. But I will not let her near my girls. You can convey that to her. We aren’t at the house. And won’t be for some time.”
Belinda’s only hope was that Bruce would calm down, that he just needed time. She’d take care of Joetta. Get her healthier, and then when they went back to Toledo for the court date, Bruce would see reason, and Joetta would see the girls. This had to be true.
Joetta was in awe of Belinda’s life. Belinda liked her life, but it didn’t seem awe-inspiring by any stretch.
“You have your own apartment?” Joetta was amazed that Belinda didn’t live in the big house with their parents anymore.
“I mean, it’s not fancy or anything, but my salary at the country club is good, enough to pay for this place and for cute outfits.”
Belinda grabbed a few clothes for Joetta to wear. Joetta was smaller, but the smock dresses would work.
“How is Banks?”
“Banks is good. He’s a good boss. Way better than his dad was.” Banks Armstrong had inherited the club from his father. And while he was their age, he had matured into a good person, one who had never stopped asking Belinda how Joetta was.
Belinda made it her mission to nurse Joetta back to something resembling the baby sister who’d left Florida in a hurry with a star-struck idea of love and life. Joetta’s life had become all too real, all too fast.
Belinda made sure that Joetta slept; she was there when Joetta cried, and she was relieved when her sister slept again. This was a reset. That was what was needed, a do-over for her sister’s life.
Joetta didn’t drink at all since she’d walked out of the courtroom. That was new.
After a few days, she looked more like herself. Gorgeously so. Joetta’s blue eyes were free of bloodshot red. She seemed clearer each day she spent in Florida. Her pale skin began to get a little glow as Belinda encouraged her to sit by the apartment complex pool.
After a week of rest and care, Joetta said she felt and looked good enough to want to go to lunch at the club. Joetta, looking beautiful and refreshed and so thin you’d think she was a movie star, turned heads when they walked into brunch at the Armstrong.
The sisters enjoyed the brunch, with only a few staffers coming over now and then to ask Belinda this question about a day off or that request to leave early.
“You’re so important,” Joetta said.
Belinda wasn’t necessarily important, but she did love her job here. She loved making the Armstrong better, taking care of guests, and knowing the answers to the questions she was asked. It gave her a sense of purpose and accomplishment.
It was something that Joetta didn’t seem to have, confidence. Where had that gone? Did it evaporate when you became a mother? Was it because of Bruce? Or was it that accident? They’d avoided talking about what could have happened. That, really, Joetta was lucky. Her girls were alive.
Now, though, Joetta was feeling strong enough to bring it up.
“I called him, got through this time.” That was good. Bruce had answered her call!
“And?”
“He said he was changing the phone number. I want to talk to the girls, but, well, that’s a no-go. He just doesn’t know that I’m sober. That I’m never going to drink again. Maybe when I show him that, he’ll see reason.”
“You can’t drink ever again; you have a real problem.”
“I know. And, well, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to clean up this mess with me. I’m sorry that my girls—” She stopped and put her hand up to her mouth. There was a lot of sorry, too much sorry to cover in one brunch.
“You don’t need to apologize to me. I’m your sister. I’m always going to be here for you.”
“And I’m going to go to those AAA meetings, I am. That’s the next step. The judge will see that, too.”
“AA.”
“That’s what I said.”
Belinda laughed with her sister over the number of As she needed to manage. Joetta took a drink from the little juice glass filled with freshly squeezed Florida oranges. Nothing tasted this good, Belinda knew.
“The trouble was, I was a teenage mother in a town with no one I knew, with a husband who, well, I didn’t have what he needed in a wife. Cooking, cleaning, taking care of babies, I was not so good at it. I liked to decorate and shop. You saw that.”
“I did. You’d made the house lovely with your thrifted magic!”
“He didn’t give me a dime to spend. Do you know that? Not a penny on anything that wasn’t cold cuts or white bread.” She shuddered like that was a distant memory. Maybe it was when you were sitting in the sunroom annex of The Armstrong Dining Room.
When Belinda’s boss and friend, Banks Armstrong, walked into the room, the connection between Joetta and Banks was immediate.
Belinda almost felt like a fifth wheel at the table, and she’d been there first.
Belinda saw Joetta move her hands that were sitting on her lap. When she offered her right hand to greet Banks, Joetta noticed the left one, on the napkin, was free of jewelry.
Joetta had slipped her wedding ring off.
Joetta’s million-dollar smile belied the dime store life she’d just been kicked out of.
And Banks was in love. He had waited all this time for Joetta. Belinda didn’t know how she felt about realizing that.
What was happening here?
Belinda watched in awe and took her baby sister’s lead. Joetta wanted to be her old self for a moment. Was that so wrong? Belinda decided it was not.
“The club looks amazing! I love the improvements you’ve made.”
“I’ve got a lot of help. Your sister here, top of the list of people who know how to treat guests.”
“Ha, well, Walter Shwartz retired. That was a big improvement.” Belinda was going to elaborate on how Walter, the old manager, had made life a living hell for everyone at the Armstrong. Still, she might as well have been on a different planet. Banks Armstrong was locked on Joetta like a tractor beam.
“You look beautiful. Life has been treating you well?”
Here it was. What was Joetta going to tell Banks about her life, and how it all had been treating her?
“I’m wonderful. Life’s been a whirlwind. I can’t believe I’ve been away so long! Traveling and adventure, you know.”
Belinda watched as her sister became a different person. She wasn’t the downtrodden housewife with no self-esteem and not enough coupons to buy groceries. Or the contrite alcoholic who’d just lost it all.
She was Joetta Bennett of the Florida Bennetts. Beloved and most beautiful daughter, heir, and apparently world traveler.
Banks Armstrong didn’t care which version of Joetta he was talking to; he was clearly smitten by whatever yarn she decided to spin.
And spin, she did. Over the next few days, Banks called. Banks stopped by. Banks seemed to believe whatever Joetta told him.
Belinda was worried anew about what this all meant.
Almost two weeks went by.
Bruce continued to refuse her calls. But their parents opened their doors to the prodigal daughter. It was tense. Awkward. And also a relief. Joetta was home, and it appeared she had no additional baggage to explain.
The lie that she told Banks, she told to them. She had no children with her, so there must be no children. Belinda was a bystander as this fiction in their family solidified into fact.
Nothing bad happened if you didn’t talk about it.
Joetta swung from happiness and almost glee when Banks would send a car or flowers or call on the phone, to despair.
One moment, she was leading Banks around on a string, and the next, she was hanging by a thread with Bruce. Belinda worried that her sister’s sober life, her desire to put things right, was precarious.
Joetta cried to Belinda after every call.
“I just want to see my girls. Why won’t he let me see my girls?”
It was hard to understand. Joetta was desperate to see her daughters but also equally as desperate to make a good impression on Banks. It’s as if the two worlds were completely separate, and she was two different people in them.
Belinda listened to her beg Bruce, tempt him, and offer ideas to him.
“What if you move down here, Bruce, with the girls? They would love it. You could get a proper fishing boat?”
“What if I just visit for a few days so they know I’m better?”
Every phone call ended with Bruce hanging up.
If Joetta wanted to bring the girls, Belinda knew they had the perfect place!
Belinda made a suggestion.
“You know, we both have that resort property. Grandfather put it in my name. Mother was annoyed, but Daddy said it could be my nest egg since no one seems to be breaking down the door to marry me.”
It was true Belinda didn’t have a boyfriend, but she didn’t want a boyfriend. And Daddy just thought he was being funny, not hurtful.
“Mother and Daddy say it’s gauche. They were annoyed I got it in the will, but in the end, they didn’t want it anyway. You know we’ve both always loved it so.”
“I used to think about it a lot when it was cold in Toledo. It gets really cold. Do you manage the Sea Turtle and the Armstrong?”
“No, I have a management company dealing with it; maintenance and bookings. But what if I put it all in your name, and you and Bruce start fresh there?”
Belinda was grasping at straws, she knew, but maybe that was the issue. Maybe if Bruce Kelly had something in his name he could call his own, but something Joetta also contributed to, they’d find a new way forward. They could live here with the girls and start fresh. It sounded so perfect to Belinda. Bruce had to see it!
Joetta liked the idea, too.
She tried again to get through to her husband with this fresh plan.
But Bruce Kelly had stopped hanging up and started just not even answering.
Belinda didn’t understand how Bruce could pass this up. What was that man thinking? Surely, he had to be able to forgive the mother of his children. Joetta was getting stronger every day. She was eating well, and she’d put a few pounds on the skeletal frame. Health looked possible for her.
They were at an impasse, Bruce and Joetta. And Belinda had taken her best shot at helping fix things.
Belinda had a peaceful life that she enjoyed. Her sister’s reentry into her day-to-day had made it hard for her to handle her own responsibilities. This had to end.
The PGA Senior Invitational Golf Tournament was coming into town in a month, and she had a million details to sort out to be sure it was flawlessly executed. The tournament would be on TV, so the club had to be flawless. Belinda needed to tend to her own life now.
She’d gone into her office at The Armstrong determined to focus on doing just that.
Joetta was eating lunch with Banks, so both her boss and her sister were out of her hair. She had to get some work done.
Shortly after noon, her desk phone rang. She expected it was the pastry chef complaining about the order of key limes or maybe the laundry concerned they had too much to do with not enough dryer capacity. It was always something.
“Is this Belinda Bennett?”
“It is.” She recognized the voice. Cold. Hard. And no emotion. “Bruce? Is that you? Joetta has been trying and trying to get a hold of you. How are the girls?”
“It is. I’ve received a dozen mentally unstable messages from your sister.”
Her sister? His wife! Belinda would tell Bruce about the resort. She’d sell the idea to Bruce even if Joetta couldn’t.
“She is so sorry, so worried about the girls. She has a place here for all of you. The girls would love it. Did she tell you? You could start fresh. It’s a resort with great rental income. On the beach. No blizzards!” Belinda knew she was sounding rather mentally unstable herself, rattling off a life plan for this man who had a life already.
“A divorce proceeding is beginning. I’ve told the girls their mother is gone.”
Belinda’s heart dropped to her stomach. She felt like she might be sick. “Gone?”
“You only know the end. You do not know what we’ve lived through. What they’ve lived through. I will no longer allow her to endanger my girls. And if she continues, I’ll call your little society page and let them know how little Miss Joetta Bennett of the Florida Bennetts is a lush who nearly killed her entire family. How does that sound? Maybe I’ll let them know when her court date is so they can get a good picture for the papers there.”
“Bruce, that’s not her. She has changed. Don’t do this. She loves the girls. I love the girls!”
“If you love these girls, you’ll want them to have a stable life without the mess that is your sister.”
“Bruce, please, you can’t deny them their mother.”
“As far as they know, their mother is dead. You got it? And if you don’t tell her to back off, I’ll ruin her life there, just as sure as she almost ruined their lives here.”
Belinda swallowed, again feeling the urge to be sick. She couldn’t see a way forward. Whatever new life Joetta had could be destroyed by the news she’d crashed her car with her sweet girls inside. There’d be no future for Joetta here.
Belinda answered Bruce. “Okay.” She agreed to his terms. No more contact. He’d keep his mouth shut, and she’d stay away from their girls. Belinda felt tears streaming down her eyes.
Ali! Faye! Baby Blair!
“I’m changing our numbers. Don’t make me have to uproot the girls and move. I’ve already got a restraining order. Got it?” A restraining order. Did that mean Joetta would be breaking the law if she was near her own children? The idea was horrifying. But she understood now, after talking to Bruce. He truly believed he was protecting them. That this was the best way. Belinda worried, in her darkest places, that Bruce was right.
“Yes.”
“Good, tell your sister. And leave us alone.”
The line went dead.
Hours later, after her shift was over, Belinda and Joetta got in her car and drove out to Haven Beach. They had to talk, and Belinda didn’t want Banks to interrupt. Joetta needed honesty, to get it, and give it.
Joetta listened, wide-eyed, to all that Belinda told her.
“He truly hates me. And the girls probably do, too.”
“No. Never.”
“You don’t know. I was a terrible mother, what I can remember of it.” Joetta put her head in her hands.
They sat together, side-by-side, on the beach blanket. The cottages were all booked, and families ran in and out of the surf as the sun went down.
“I’ve always loved this place so much,” Belinda said. She didn’t know what to say to her sister.
“I met Bruce right here.”
And it was true. They’d spent so many summers right here, getting away from the stuffiness of the beach house and their parents.
“Maybe a cooling-off period is all you need; Bruce will calm down. He’ll change his mind.” Belinda had wanted to be honest but she found herself trying to find a silver lining for her beloved sister.
“No. No, he won’t. And he shouldn’t. He is a good dad. He loves the girls.”
“You love the girls.”
“I do. But I’m no good for any of them.”
“You can’t just leave that all behind.”
“I don’t have a real choice, do I? What is it called? A restraining order? If I fight it then I blow my life up here. My second chance.”
“What do you mean?”
Joetta paused for a moment, she seemed to shift into a different head space. Her posture changed. The wife and mother, the alcoholic was gone, the broken pieces aligned and reformed before Belinda’s eyes. Joetta willed herself to be what she used to be, not what she was.
“Banks is going to ask me to marry him.”
Belinda didn’t have to ask what Joetta would say to Bank’s proposal.
“I supposed this was what your life was supposed to look like before Bruce Kelly walked up to us on this very beach.”
“He broke up the Gulfside Girls.” Joetta smiled, and Belinda took her hand. Joetta’s smile was hollow. There was something dark behind her summer eyes now. Something that Belinda could never fix. “Look at that gorgeous sunset.”
Belinda looked out to the sun, yellow with an orange ring around it. The clouds were white, and pink and then purple closer to the horizon. The sun dipped into the water.
“Quite a Grand Finale,” Joetta said.
Belinda would help Joetta rebuild. Whatever it took, she would be there for her baby sister.
“Or maybe it’s a beginning.”
Somehow, they’d figure out a way to be there for Joetta’s girls. Whether Bruce Kelly wanted them to or not.