Hope Springs - 05 - Wedding Cake (9 page)

Beatrice was not even able to name all the emotions she was feeling. There was betrayal and disappointment, but mostly there was just hurt. She and Robin had certainly gone through hard times together. They started fighting when Robin was a baby, and the fights never seemed to stop. But Beatrice thought they had moved beyond that. She thought they were closer now that Robin was an adult. They had not had a disagreement in years. Beatrice would have never imagined that her daughter could leave her out of something so important as her wedding, as the event of falling in love, even the engagement. Beatrice sat with her head in her hands, the invitation fallen at her feet, and began to cry. She was so lost in her sorrow that she didn’t even hear Eldon Macintyre, the mailman, as he walked up and stood in front of her.

“I came to say I was sorry,” he said, surprised to see Beatrice in tears.

There was no reply.

“Are you okay, Mrs. Witherspoon?” It was clear that she wasn’t, and he was suddenly awkward and embarrassed that he had returned to her house.

“Did you know about this?” she asked.

“What?” Eldon responded. And then he glanced down at the invitation. He blushed. “I shouldn’t have looked at your mail but I just noticed it when I was organizing the stacks for this route.” He glanced away. “I only saw that it was from South Carolina. That’s all I read about it, I swear.” He paused. “I’m sorry I looked and I’m sorry I brought it up a little while ago.”

Beatrice shook her head. “Eldon, I am not upset that you notice postmarks on my mail.”

“I could lose my job for telling you what I saw,” he noted.

“You’re not going to lose your job. I’m not telling anybody anything,” Bea responded.

There was a pause. A car pulled down the street in front of Bea’s house. They honked their horn as it was a neighbor who knew both Bea and Eldon. Eldon waved, but Bea just dropped her head again.

“I just came to tell you that I’m sorry that I yelled at you about Lily. I didn’t mean to snap.” He kept waiting for Beatrice to look at him but she did not. “I came back to apologize for that and to let you know I wasn’t going postal or anything,” he added.

“My daughter’s getting married and I found out from the wedding invitation,” she explained, not paying attention at all to his apology.

“Robin?” Eldon asked. He knew all of Beatrice’s family. He grew up with the three children and was the same age as Beatrice’s son. “That’s odd,” he said. And then he explained, “I never thought she was the marrying type.”

“Well, neither did I,” Beatrice said. “But I guess we are both wrong. I guess she’s been the marrying type all along, she’s just not the type who shares this information with her mother.”

Eldon glanced around. He looked at his watch. He had a lot of mail to deliver but he knew he couldn’t leave Beatrice as she was. He dropped his bag of mail by his side and sat down next to his old friend.

“Who is it?” he asked, referring to Robin’s fiancé.

“Somebody by the name of Farrell Monk,” she replied. “Sounds like a priest with rabies or some mental disorder, doesn’t it?” she asked.

Eldon laughed and shook his head. “I wouldn’t know about that,” he replied.

“What kind of child doesn’t tell her mother she’s engaged? What kind of daughter lets her mother find out she’s getting married from an invitation? An invitation that she sends to acquaintances and coworkers and people she doesn’t even care about?” Bea wiped her nose on the sleeve of her blouse. “I feel like I don’t even know her anymore. Or Jenny or Teddy. What happened to my relationships with my children?”

Eldon shrugged. He certainly didn’t have the answers Beatrice was looking for. “Maybe she’s afraid you won’t like Farrell,” he suggested. “Maybe she’s embarrassed because he’s short or has a lot of nose hairs or something.”

Beatrice looked up at her mailman. “Nose hairs?” she asked. “Are you intending to be ridiculous or is this how you usually try and comfort your friends?”

He leaned over and bumped Beatrice with his shoulder. “I’m just saying maybe it isn’t you as much as it is her.” He rocked back to his seated position. “Robin was always a little, I don’t know, different.”

Beatrice studied Eldon. “What do you mean, different?” she asked.

He pulled a string from the edge of his jacket. “She was always real private about everything,” he answered. “Sort of lived in a tight shell.” He looked out across the street he had walked for most of his adult life. He was remembering the young girl he used to tease when they were teenagers. “It wasn’t just you,” he noted. “Robin never seemed to open up to anybody.”

“How come you know so much about my daughter?” Bea asked, surprised to hear her mailman speaking about one of her children.

“We went out a few times,” he confessed. “When she came home from college.”

“You and Robin?” Bea asked.

“Yes. And why does that seem so hard to believe?” he responded, sounding hurt that Beatrice would act so shocked that he had dated Robin. “What, you think I’m good enough for Lily Bitterman but not your daughter?”

She leaned into him that time, bumping him so hard he almost fell. “I would have loved it if you and Robin had become a serious couple. Then she would have stayed close to home and I could have grandbabies that you could deliver when you brought my mail.”

Eldon laughed. “You know that Robin was never going to stay in Hope Springs,” he said. “That’s part of the reason we didn’t last. Well, that and I suppose I’m not that great of a catch.” He dropped his head. “We can ask Lily about that.”

“Eldon Macintyre, the only reason Lily Bitterman dropped you is because you wouldn’t marry her. A woman has a ticking clock on these matters, you know.”

There was a hesitation from Eldon before he answered.

“I asked Lily to marry me,” he confessed.

The news seemed to shock Beatrice. She turned to look closely at her young friend.

“About once a year for fifteen years,” he added. “She said no every time.”

“Well, my Lord,” Bea responded. She paused to think about what she had just heard. “Well, good riddance to her,” she noted. “I never thought she had much sense anyway,” she added. “And what else don’t I know about my children?”

Eldon turned to look at Beatrice. “Probably a lot,” he replied. “And if you didn’t like Lily, why were you always trying to get us married?” he asked.

Beatrice shrugged. “I don’t know. I just like the thought of people together,” she replied. “It’s not right to live your life alone. Everybody needs a mate,” she added. “It’s just the way we’re meant to be.”

The two of them watched as the Hurleys, a couple from up the street, walked hand in hand on the sidewalk in front of them. They all waved at each other.

“Nice day,” Mr. Hurley called out.

“Lovely,” Beatrice responded.

Eldon and Beatrice waited, watching the two as they crossed to the other side of the street.

“Good Lord,” Beatrice whispered. “And to think he was almost dead eighteen years ago after his first wife died. Then he married Wanda and now he’s about to pass the one hundred mark. I guess it just goes to show I’m right.”

Eldon waited. “About what?” he finally asked.

“We all live longer and better with good love,” she replied.

“I guess,” Eldon responded, and he paused a moment. He turned to face Beatrice. “Then you should be glad for Robin,” he said. “I know your feelings are hurt and you’ll need to talk to her about her decision and why she didn’t tell you in a more intimate way, but just be glad she’s found somebody she loves because that’s really a hard thing to do in this day and time.”

Beatrice blew out a breath. She turned to Eldon and punched him in the side with her elbow. “Oh, what do you know? You’re just the mailman.”

They both laughed.

“No, I figure you’re about right, Mr. Macintyre. And I’m going to try and listen to your advice.”

“What?” Eldon asked, surprised to hear Beatrice put aside her hurt so quickly.

“I’ve worried about Robin all her life, that she’d be old and alone and miserable.” She quickly turned to Eldon. “Not that I think you’re going to be alone and miserable,” she explained.

“It’s all right, I understand,” Eldon responded. “Finish what you were saying.”

“If she’s found her soul mate and he makes her happy, I’ll be happy for the both of them. She must have her reasons for keeping things private and I’ll respect that.”

Eldon looked at Beatrice with a fair amount of suspicion. “You really mean that? You’re going to let this go?” he asked.

“True dat,” Bea replied.

Eldon seemed surprised by Bea’s response, something he heard regularly on his favorite television show,
The Wire
. “I didn’t know you watched HBO.” he said.

“Oh no, I don’t get HBO,” she lied. “You would certainly know if I did because you’d see the bill,” she added, sounding very guilty.

“Mrs. Witherspoon, I don’t look at all of your mail,” he replied, thinking that she was referring to how their conversation began and how he had noticed the wedding invitation from Robin. “You’re not going to hold this one time that I did against me, are you?” he asked.

She patted Eldon on the leg and stood up, grateful that he hadn’t seemed to catch on that she was not receiving the bills she should. “You’re a good mailman, Eldon,” she said. “And a good friend, and I
would say nothing more or less than that to anyone who asked,” she added.

Eldon stood up and grabbed his mailbag, tossing it on his shoulder, relieved to hear that his customer wasn’t upset about what had happened. “I enjoyed our talk, Mrs. Witherspoon,” he said as he turned to walk down the steps. “Everything is going to be fine,” he added. “You just wait and see.”

“True dat,” she said again, softly.

And Eldon smiled, headed down the steps, opened the gate, and went back to work.

B
eatrice slid the invitation into her purse and got the keys to her car. She ran out of the house, slamming the door behind her, and wasn’t thinking while she cranked the engine, put it in gear, and backed out of the driveway. She was headed in the direction of Hope Springs Church, down past the center of town, and out on Route 16. She drove as if she was of clear mind, but the truth was that she wasn’t thinking about exactly where she intended to go.

She turned right onto the street behind the parsonage and into the little subdivision where several of the church members lived before she realized that she was driving straight toward Margaret’s old house. When she understood what she was doing, she came to a complete stop in the middle of the road. Fortunately, there were no other cars around and she did a U-turn before she made it all the way to the familiar driveway.

She stopped at the stop sign, thinking about what she had done, thinking about how many times she had made that trip, gone to that house, driven down that driveway, and found her friend waiting for her at the front door. She had not been on that street in several months, and she was at least relieved that she hadn’t gotten all the way to the house before she realized what she had done. She had heard that the land and the house had been sold not long after Margaret died, and she had never driven by it again.

Beatrice hit the gas and drove straight back to the church. She turned off the engine once she had pulled into the parking lot. She sat in the car, beating her fists against the steering wheel, crying, and shouting to no one.

“Damn you, Margaret Peele. Damn you, damn you, damn you!” she screamed. “What am I supposed to do without you? What on earth am I supposed to do? You were the one who taught me how to be a good mother. You were the one who told me what to do with my girls. You taught me everything, and now I need you to teach me again and you’re gone. Dead and gone!”

Beatrice dropped her head against the steering wheel and cried, and then she reached into her purse and took out the wedding invitation and began to rip it apart. She threw the pieces on the floor-board.

“Have your nice wedding in Mexico! Have your nice life with Farrell Monk! I hope I never have to see you again!”
Beatrice yelled at the top of her lungs.

She thought about Robin, how betrayed she felt by her daughter. She was broken by the betrayal and embarrassed that her own child wouldn’t want her to be a part of this experience. She balled her fists
and beat the steering wheel again, and then she dropped her head and cried even more.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been like that when she felt someone standing beside her car door. The person was peering in at her through the window. She lifted her head and realized it was the pastor of Hope Springs, Reverend Tom Joles.

He nodded at her when she looked up at him. “You okay, Beatrice?” he asked, leaning down toward her.

Beatrice didn’t know this pastor very well. Like the other women in the cookbook committee, she missed Charlotte. Reverend Joles was nice enough, handled his business well enough, but it was just never the same at church once Charlotte moved away. Beatrice and Dick remained active in the congregation, but her heart had not been in her work there in a long time.

Beatrice turned on the engine for power and rolled down the window. She wiped her face on the sleeve of her coat. “No, Pastor, I’m definitely not okay. I’m having a nervous breakdown but I’d prefer to be alone, if you don’t mind.” She turned away and stared straight ahead, toward the cemetery. She hoped that he wouldn’t push her to give more information or ask to call Dick or Jessie or Louise. She wanted to be left alone, just as she had asked.

The preacher stood up, nodding his head, biting the inside of his lip, like he was thinking. “All right then,” he said, tapping the window with his finger, and turned slowly to walk back to the church office.