Next Door Secrets (Secrets Series Book 2) (24 page)

Other Books by Karen Lenfestey:

A SISTER’S
PROMISE

WHAT HAPPINESS
LOOKS LIKE

ON THE VERGE

MADE FOR TWO: A
Romance Novella

A MOM’S LIFE:
WARM FUZZIES, FOOD & FUN

FRIDAY A LA
MODE: A Prequel to
A Weekend Getaway

A WEEKEND
GETAWAY

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If you enjoyed
NEXT DOOR SECRETS, one of the nicest things you can do is write a short review
on Amazon or
GoodReads
.

To find out
what happens with Bethany and Willow, buy A MOTHER’S CONVICTION. Here’s the
opening chapter:

CHAPTER ONE

Standing at the mailbox, Bethany squinted at the envelope
from the Tennessee Prison for Women and wondered if it was against the law to
open her daughter’s mail. Technically, Willow was her foster daughter, but
Bethany couldn’t love her more if she were blood. And that meant her instinct
to protect the six-year-old was strong.

One of her neighbors was burning leaves and she could smell
the earthy smoke as the school bus squeaked to a stop nearby. Quickly she
folded the envelope and stuck it in her back pocket while Willow climbed off
the bus.

Her daughter limped toward her, favoring her right foot as
she always did. As the bus drove off, a kid yelled out an open window, “Bye,
Hop-Along!” and Beth clenched her teeth. It appeared that Willow hadn’t heard
it, though—thank God. Or maybe she'd simply grown used to the cruelty of
children by now.

The wind blew a strand of the girl’s ebony hair across her
face and she brushed it aside. “Anything for me?”

Beth scanned the remaining items in her hand.
The November
Midwest Living
magazine and a letter from the Indiana University alumni association—no
doubt asking for her to renew her annual donation.
“Not today.” As they
walked toward her brick house, she noticed her daughter’s Winnie the Pooh
backpack, the one she’d brought with her from the group home, looked worn out
and faded. “Maybe it’s time we buy you a new backpack.”

Limping up the driveway, Willow shook her head. “Nope.”

Since Willow had so very few things from before, Beth didn’t
argue. “I need you to grab an apple for a snack and get in the car. We have
somewhere to go today.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were in the large, well-lit lobby
of the optometrist’s office. While the technician adjusted Beth’s new reading
glasses, Willow entertained herself by trying on the children’s frames
displayed on the nearby wall.

Looking at her own reflection, Beth couldn’t get used to the
tortoise shell frames covering her face. “I can’t believe I need reading
glasses already. I’m not even forty yet.”

The thin woman with naturally curly hair and cherry red
frames shrugged at her. “I’ve worn glasses all of my life. You’re lucky you
never had to.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

The woman glanced at Willow. “She’s cute. Must take after her
dad, huh?”

“Yeah.” With dishwater blonde hair and fair skin, Beth knew
she didn’t look at all like Willow, whose dark hair framed her face. Even
though they both had blue eyes, Willow’s were a shade that seemed impossibly
beautiful.

Beth hated explaining to strangers that Willow wasn’t hers,
so she adjusted the frames on the bridge of her freckled nose. They felt funny.
“It’s a little tight on my right ear.” As she pulled them off, a strand of her
shoulder-length hair momentarily caught on the
side piece
.
She detangled it and handed the frames to the woman who heated the plastic to
make it more pliable.

Sporting a pink pair of frames, Willow limped to Beth’s side.
The frames obscured part of the scar that ran down the left side of her face.
She leaned close to whisper into her ear. “I think I need glasses, too.”

Beth turned her head to look at her. “What makes you say
that?”

“Because I can’t see the board at school.”

“You’ve never told me that before.” The girl probably wanted
a pair of glasses because she wanted to hide behind them. “Glasses aren’t any
fun. Trust me, you don’t want to need them.”

“I’m not lying. I need glasses.”

The technician finished her work, handed Beth the frames to
try on,
then
looked at Willow. “Those are one of our
most popular pairs. Did you see Minnie Mouse on the sides?”

Willow’s eyes grew wide, but she didn’t speak. It took her a
while to warm up to strangers. She whispered in Beth’s ear, “Ask her if they
have Winnie the Pooh frames.”

Sighing, Beth tried to decide whether to take her seriously
or not. “Do you have any Winnie the Pooh frames?” The woman said they did not
and Willow hung her head. Beth glanced at herself in the mirror one last time
before taking off the glasses and sticking them in their case. “They’re good.
Now, my daughter here seems to think she needs glasses, too. Could we schedule
an exam for her?”

“Actually, the doctor has time now.”

“Um, she’s not on my insurance. Do you take Medicare?”

“I’m afraid not.”

The truth was
,
Beth didn’t mind
paying out-of-pocket. “That’s okay. We might as well do it, just to put my mind
at ease.” She and Willow followed the technician to the small room in the back.
“Is it all right if I stay with her during the exam?”

“Sure. The doctor will be right in.” She left as
Willow
climbed up into the chair surrounded by metal
equipment.

When the doctor came in, he wore black glasses and a white
lab coat. “Back so soon?”

Beth nodded. “She said it’s hard to see things far away.”

He dimmed the lights and began the exam. Willow twirled her
dark hair around her finger and refused to speak. She didn’t respond when he
asked if this was better or that was better. Finally, Beth stood closer so
Willow could whisper the letters on the eye chart into her ear. Beth felt a
little ridiculous, serving as an interpreter, but she didn’t know what else to
do.

At the end of the exam, the doctor wrote some notes on a
clipboard. “It turns out Willow is slightly nearsighted. Wearing glasses would
make things clearer, but just barely. If you wanted to wait another year, she
could get by without lenses.”

Beth made eye contact with her daughter. “Well, if it were
me, I’d wait. What do you think?” Willow shook her head and Beth shifted from
one foot to the next. What kid wanted glasses? When she was in school, everyone
called the kids with glasses “four-eyes” or “nerd.”

Willow put her hands together as if in prayer. She mouthed
the word “Please.”

“Okay. Let’s go pick out some frames.” The two of them went
back to the waiting room where another family had started looking around.
Willow limped over to the pink Minnie Mouse frames and put them on again.

Beth chuckled. “I guess we have a winner.” She handed them to
the technician so she could write down the numbers and place the order. After
she paid, the woman explained it would be about a week for the glasses to be
ready.

Willow cupped her hand to whisper in Beth’s ear. “Why can’t I
have them now?”

“They have to order your prescription and put them in the
frames, Sweet Pea. Just like they did for me.”

Scowling at her reflection in the mirror, Willow rubbed the
jagged line on her face. Beth had been right; she liked the glasses because you
almost didn’t notice her scar with them on.

As they walked to the parking lot, Willow asked, “Can we stop
by
Mee
-ma’s on the way home?”

Climbing into the driver’s seat of her Chevy, Beth thought
that it was wonderful that Willow had nicknames for her “grandparents.” She
turned the key and started the engine. “
Mee
-ma has to
work late tonight. Papa will be the only one home.”

“That’s okay. Can we stop? Please?”

Beth squeezed the steering wheel. “Not today.”

“Don’t you like Papa?”

How to avoid this discussion? Seeing him wasn’t easy. She’d
disappointed him and he wouldn’t let her forget it. “He’s my father and I love
him.” Liking was sometimes harder than loving.

Later that night, after she’d tucked Willow into bed, Beth
put on her new reading glasses.
 
Closing her bedroom door, she pulled out the letter hidden in her
pocket. She shouldn’t have been surprised to get a letter from Willow’s mother,
but her hands trembled as she broke the seal.

Dear Willow,

I miss you
sooooo
much! It’s been
too long since I held you in my arms. Too long since I saw your pretty blue
eyes. Too long since you sang to me.

That made Beth pause. She’d never heard Willow sing. Now that
she thought about it, it was odd. Most young children loved music and yet this
was another example of how Willow wasn’t like most kids. Beth dropped her gaze
and continued reading.

Someday you, your sister and I will be together again. Won’t
it be great to be a family once more? It’s all I think about in here, in this
concrete hell. I know I made mistakes, but I think the judge had it in for me,
too. How else to justify taking a young mother away from her precious
daughters? It’s a crime for you and me to be apart. I can’t wait until they see
that I’m no “threat to society” and let me out. I pray every day that the good
Lord will free me. There’s a woman from a nearby church that visits me and gave
me a Bible. She says God forgives me and I believe her. She’s been good to me,
but doesn’t have much money to put in my account. You see
,
people can put money into my account at the prison so I can buy necessities
like toothpaste and deodorant. I don’t have anybody who cares about me but her,
so she gives me what little she can, but it
ain’t
enough. I really need some more money.

Anyway, let me tell you what I’ve been up to. I think you’ll
be impressed. In addition to finding the Lord, I’ve been going to cosmetology
training here. That way when I get out, I can get a good-paying job and can
take care of you and your sister. It’s weird because everywhere in the prison,
I have to wear a mask. I have to act tough so people won’t mess with me, but
when I enter the training room, it’s different. The walls are painted pink and
purple. This woman from the outside comes in and runs the program. She wears
big gold hoop earrings and reminds us to act like ladies. She says it’s
important to take care of
ourselves
. I’ve learned how
to do manicures and pedicures. I don’t much like the pedicures because some
people’s feet are disgusting, but the pedicures pay better, so I’m
gonna
keep doing them.

So, as you can see, I’m ready to be a good mother to you. I’d
love it if you’d come for a visit. I’m including blank visitor approval forms
for you to fill out. Send them with your photo back to the prison, so you can
see your momma. I miss you! I miss you! I miss you! If you’d come visit, it
would make me so happy. If you can’t get your foster parents to give you a
ride, could you at least send me some stuff? I’d love a multi-pack of Juicy
Fruit gum. I’d also appreciate it if you could send me some People magazines
and if you could put some money into my account.

I love you and miss you! Hope to see you soon.

Momma,

Beth had fooled herself into thinking that living in South
Bend, Indiana, hundreds of miles from the prison, protected Willow. As she
rolled her stiff shoulders, she tried to decide what to do with the letter. It
would be good for Willow to hear from her mother, but it bugged her how much of
the letter was about
Gola’s
needs. What kind of woman
asked her six-year-old to send money?

Folding up the letter, Beth stuck it in her sock drawer and
tried to forget it.

# # #

The morning sun mocked
Melodie
Bennett
as she pounded on the front door of her farmhouse. She jerked the handle, but
it wouldn’t open. Panic flooded her veins. Grasping the tarnished knob tighter,
she tried to turn it. She threw her shoulder against the door,
then
jiggled the handle some more. Dang it! She’d locked
herself out.

No, no, no! Not today. She ran to the back door and tried to
turn its knob. Shaking her head, she walked around the house and looked at each
window on the first and second floors, hoping that one would be open.
Of course not.
As a single mom, she kept her doors and
windows secure. A check of her watch revealed only ten minutes had passed since
her daughter had climbed on the school bus, but it felt like forever. Stranded
on her front porch in her robe and slippers, she let out a yell. “No!”

What was she going to do? Should she break a window and climb
in? Should she call a
lock smith
? If she waited on
that, she’d definitely miss her job interview. Her first one since before Zoe
was born.
 
Her palms grew moist. As
if she wasn’t nervous enough about making a good impression. What would they
think if she called to cancel? She couldn’t risk it. But what choice did she
have?

She heard the roar of a motorcycle coming down the road as
she pounded on her door. The engine grew louder and sounded as if it were about
to run her over.

Whipping around, she saw an athletic-looking man in a black
leather jacket climb off a bike. Her pulse skyrocketed as she cinched her robe
at the neck. What did he want?

When he pulled off his helmet, he revealed blue-gray eyes and
tousled brown hair that curled below his ear. He started walking closer. “Is
everything all right?”