Hope Springs - 05 - Wedding Cake (20 page)

James waited. He looked away and wiped his eyes. And then, he nodded. “You’re absolutely right. That’s exactly what Margaret would say.”

Jessie stood up tall. She lifted her chin. “You didn’t have to show me the letter. It wouldn’t have mattered to Margaret what that woman had to say and it shouldn’t have mattered to me.” She paused. “You should come home,” she said to her husband. “Throw the letter away and come home.” And she reached out and he wept, taking his wife by the hand.

R
obin was the last person Beatrice expected to find standing on her doorstep when the doorbell rang. Beatrice thought it was Eldon dropping off her mail or the copy store bringing her the box of finished wedding cookbooks for Jessie and James that she had been told would be delivered sometime that day. She opened the door and stood staring at her daughter in utter shock.

“Hello, Mom,” the young woman said.

Beatrice still could not respond. In all her fantasies of what she would say to Robin when they did finally see each other, she had been smart and witty and always knew the right way to begin the conversation. Once she was faced with the reality of standing inches away from her daughter, she couldn’t think of a word to say.

“Can I come in?” Robin asked.

Bea tried to shake off the shock. “Of course, of course,” she finally answered, and moved aside so that her daughter could walk in. Robin
had a small bouquet of flowers in her hands and as she walked past Beatrice, she handed them to her mother. “I bought these for you. I know how you love peonies.”

“Yes, thank you,” Bea responded, taking the flowers and sounding like a robot. “I’ll, um, get them in a vase.” And she hurried off to the kitchen, leaving Robin standing by the front door. Suddenly she remembered what she had done and she hurried back into the foyer. “Oh, please,” she said. “Come in, I’m sorry.”

Robin followed her mother into the kitchen. Beatrice reached into a cabinet and pulled out a vase. She placed the flowers in it and filled the vase with water. She set them by the sink. “They’re quite lovely,” she commented. “I can’t seem to get peonies to grow here.” She looked up at her daughter. “Please sit down,” and she motioned toward a chair at the kitchen table. “You want something to drink?” she asked, and made her way to the refrigerator.

Robin shook her head. “No, I just had some iced tea.”

“Oh,” Bea responded. “You’ve been in town awhile?” she asked, still in her polite tone of voice. She glanced over at the clock, seeing that it was eleven. She wondered if Robin had been in town all morning. She wondered how long she was going to stay.

“I just drove in,” Robin explained. “But I stopped in Lexington for a glass of tea,” she added, referring to a town near Hope Springs. “Bojangles’,” she explained. “You know how I love their iced tea.”

“Yes, I remember,” Bea said, taking a seat across from her daughter, recalling how they used to stop at one of the fast food chains every Sunday after church when Robin was young. “Gravy biscuits and sweet tea,” she added, naming the meal that they used to enjoy.

“Nothing’s changed, except I don’t do gravy biscuits so much anymore.”
Robin rubbed her belly. “Now that I’m middle-aged, I’ve got to watch those calories, you know.”

Bea smiled.

The two women sat awkwardly for a few minutes. Then they both spoke at the same time. Beatrice was asking her about her job and Robin was commenting on the flowers growing in her mother’s front yard. They both stopped and looked at each other.

“You go,” Robin instructed.

Bea shook her head. “I was just asking about your job.”

“Oh, it’s fine. Still bank work, you know.” She nodded and placed her hands on the table. “A little harder since the recession, but I’m still happy there. Plus I’m really glad to have a job.”

Beatrice glanced down and suddenly noticed the engagement ring on Robin’s finger. She reached over and took her daughter’s hand. She studied it a few minutes before commenting. “It’s a beauty,” she finally said.

“Farrell picked it out,” Robin explained, smiling.

Beatrice got up from the table. “I think I’ll have some lemonade. You sure you don’t want any?” She pulled out two glasses and looked back at her daughter.

Robin shook her head.

Beatrice put one of the glasses up and filled the other with ice, then pulled a pitcher out of the refrigerator and poured herself a glass. She moved back over to the table and sat down again.

“How’s Dick?” Robin asked about her stepfather, sounding un-comfortable trying to make small talk.

“Good,” Beatrice replied. “I thought you two had spoken recently,” she added, recalling that Dick had made the wedding RSVP call and handled all the arrangements for the two of them.

“You’re right,” Robin answered. “We have.” Beatrice nodded, taking a sip of her drink.

Robin took in a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” she confessed. “I know I should have told you when I got engaged and when we made plans for the wedding. I’m sorry.” She looked down at her hands still clasped in front of her.

“When you got engaged?” Bea responded. “That’s the first time you think I’d want to know what was going on in your life? Why wouldn’t you have told me when you fell in love? When you knew he was the one you thought you might want to marry?”

Robin glanced up and looked at her mother. “I was just never sure when that happened,” she replied.

“You didn’t know when this guy became special for you?” Bea asked.

Robin shrugged. “I knew I had feelings for him. I’ve had a crush on him for years but he was never really … I don’t know.” She hesitated. “Interested in me,” she finished her thought.

“Is he somebody from work?” Bea asked, trying to learn as much as she could about her future son-in-law. She wasn’t letting on but somehow she was starting to feel as if something wasn’t quite right about this engagement and upcoming wedding.

Robin shook her head. “He goes to the same gym I go to,” she replied.

Beatrice nodded. “So, you’ve had a crush on him and you waited around for years and he finally noticed you? ”

Robin smiled. “I guess that’s about right,” she answered. “And when was that?” Bea asked.

“When was what?” Robin responded, unclear of what her mother wanted to know.

“When did he finally notice you?” she explained her question.

“Oh, um …” She thought for a moment. “We’ve been dating about fourteen months,” she replied.

Bea just kept nodding her head as if she was suddenly beginning to understand something she hadn’t been able to before.

“And in these fourteen months, you only thought about telling me about him, about the two of you, when you became engaged?” The hurt was obvious in her voice.

“Everything just kept moving faster and faster and I kept thinking, I need to let Mom know, and then before I knew it, we were booking an outdoor garden for the wedding in Cabo.”

“You came home for the holidays,” Bea recounted. “That was during those fourteen months. That would have meant you were dating him then.” She leaned in toward her daughter. “You never mentioned him. You never mentioned anything about him.”

Robin’s face reddened. “It was complicated at first,” she noted.

“What does that mean?” Bea asked.

Robin shook her head as if she didn’t want to explain.

“Complicated because of me?” Beatrice was trying to understand.

“No,” Robin answered.

“Complicated because of what? You didn’t want him to meet your family? He didn’t want to meet us? Because—” She stopped, suddenly beginning to figure out what Robin was not saying. “Because he was married?” she asked.

Robin looked up. Hearing her mother’s question surprised her. And it was obvious that Beatrice had stumbled upon the right answer. “Robin, he was married when you were dating?” she asked. “You had an affair and now you’re marrying him?” She stood up from the
table and then sat back down. “Oh me,” she said, wringing her hands. “Don’t you know this never works?” she asked.

“And that is why I haven’t said anything. I knew you’d judge me and not give us a chance.” Robin folded her arms across her chest and slumped in her chair.

“No, that is not the reason you didn’t say anything. The reason is because you knew what you were doing was wrong and you knew I would know it.” Bea kept shaking her head. “How long has he been divorced?” she asked.

“It’s been final for two months,” was the answer. “But he was separated when we met. He had already moved out. I didn’t break up a marriage,” she added.

“How do you know he had really moved out?” Beatrice was re-calling the numerous stories she had heard from friends and acquaintances about people having affairs and swearing to their lovers that they were separated. She thought of the thousands of movies that included that as part of the plotline. She almost brought up one but then thought better of it.

“He told me and I believe him.”

“He told you at the gym, when he finally noticed you, that he was separated and was planning to be divorced?” Bea was trying to make sense of the situation as well as trying to get her daughter to hear how unlikely this story was.

Robin shrugged. “Something like that,” she answered softly.

Beatrice gave out a long sigh and shook her head as if she was disappointed.

“What happened to his first marriage?”

Robin rolled her eyes as if she didn’t want to continue with this line of questioning, but she answered. “They just fell out of love.”

“Does he have children?” Bea asked.

“Two,” Robin replied. “And they’re great. They like me and I really like them. One’s a boy, he’s eleven, and the little girl is six.”

Beatrice stood up again and then sat back down. She took a sip of her drink. “How do you know the same thing won’t happen to this marriage? How do you know he has worked through all of the trouble, made closure? How do you know that in a couple of years he won’t notice someone else and tell her that he’s separated from his second wife?” She stamped her foot a number of times. “Robin, you’ve never been in love, how do you know he really loves you?” And as soon as she asked the question, she could feel how it stung.

Robin raised her eyebrows and then began pulling at strands of her hair, something Beatrice remembered as a nervous habit Robin had since she was a little girl.

She reached over for Robin’s hand. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t a fair question. Of course he loves you,” Bea said. “He’s marrying you, of course he loves you,” she repeated.

Robin dropped her eyes away from her mother. She stopped pulling her hair and rested her hands in her lap, not taking her mother’s hand that remained stretched before her.

“Robin, you have never thought you were good enough for anybody. You have always compared yourself to your sister and measured yourself, every time coming out on the losing end. All I have ever wanted for you is to find somebody who really loves you, who knows how incredible you are.” Bea pulled her hands back and placed her arms down by her sides. She tried to make herself believe what she was about to say. She took in a breath. “I’m happy you’ve found Farrell. It sounds like you have been attracted to him for a long time.
I’m sure that this timing is right and that this marriage will bring you both much happiness.”

“I really think you’ll like him,” Robin said, appearing to cheer up a bit. “He’s kind of like Daddy was,” she added.

Beatrice smiled, thinking about her first husband, Paul. They had been in love at one time, and even though what had been lovely in the beginning didn’t last and even though the relationship wasn’t as deep and wonderful in the end before he died, she had loved her husband. They had managed to have a good marriage. He had been faithful and supportive. In his own way, she knew that he had loved her.

Still, Beatrice was glad she had found Dick. He had been as much a true friend as he had been a husband. And he had made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t in a long time. He made her laugh and notice things she usually hurried past. He treated her as if she was the most important person alive. Beatrice knew that she was lucky to have had a second chance at love. And when that thought entered her mind, she suddenly realized that she ought to offer the same hope to this young man who was to be her son-in-law.

Marriages break up all the time, she thought. It was a sad fact, but true. So, if Farrell Monk’s marriage ended and he met Robin near the time that it happened or was going to happen, who was she to judge? It certainly sounded as if her daughter had loved him from a distance for a long time. Besides, Bea told herself as she sat watching her daughter, she had been a parent long enough to know she was not going to be able to save her children from trouble. As much as she wished she had the power to do that, Beatrice had learned, everybody has to walk his own path. And, she thought, the love that we find and keep, the love that we have taken from us, the love we pretend is there and isn’t, and the love that surprises us, all of that cannot be managed
and handled by anyone’s mother. That, Beatrice understood, is a part of those paths we claim as our own, and nobody can save us or keep us from what happens in love.

She smiled at her daughter, hopeful and radiant with a mother’s affection, and reached out her hands to her daughter again. This time Robin took them.

“So, what can I help you do to get ready for your big day?” she asked, and it was as if a huge burden had been hoisted from her shoulders. “Would you like a special cookbook for the occasion?”

And Robin simply laughed.