All About B.A.D. (15 page)

A bridge had been crossed between Bertha and Lilly, restoring connectivity on a different plane. Love and respect, never absent, were lived out in different ways: honest exchanges, praise, listening, fighting fairly. Both believed in goals but in the past these were always strangled by “what ifs”. Replacing fear with courage resulted in a long list of why things could happen and a shorter list of why they never would. Remembering how to enjoy each other’s company, they boosted one another’s self-confidence. Assurance swelled, self-reliance bloomed. Bertha inspired Lilly and Lilly emboldened her mother.

Lilly led Bertha down what seemed an endless row of scents threatening to overwhelm their noses. Placing her mother on a stool at the counter, Lilly peered over the array of samples. Searching for the perfect color, she chose a soft coral and dabbed it on a cotton swab.

“Let’s try this one.” She gently drew it across Bertha’s lips. Next, a pale blush on a cotton ball swabbed her cheeks. Then Lilly applied a light brown tint to Bertha’s long lashes. 

Lilly stared at her work. “You look lovely! Here, see for yourself, Mama.” She swiveled her mother toward the mirror.

Bertha hesitantly peeked at her reflection, ready to reject any change with years of practice. Instead she drew in her breath, and after several seconds, the tinted lips curved into a smile.

“I like it, but you don’t think it’s too much?”

“Absolutely not. I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true. You not only look lovely and younger, but you look like you belong to ‘this century’, as Bernadette would say.” Both couldn’t help but laugh.

Later, after leaving the department store with a couple of large bags filled with fitted, updated outfits, Lilly knew it was time to enforce other changes.

Bertha had her hair cut by a professional and bought something other than brown sensible shoes. It began a renewal. She learned to drive a stick shift, and soon after, she taught her daughter how to drive. Lilly took Bertha shopping and introduced her to Maybelline products. Mother read her daughter’s stories. Daughter learned how to run an office. As they dealt with new budgets, they squabbled over priorities. They fought over who would drive the truck. A parent and a child—two women, two friends. Bertha treated Lilly as the adult she had become. A woman she could trust with her secrets.

Bertha had handed the letter to Lilly. “This came for you today.”

Lilly eyed the handwriting above the name.
John Pease.
She froze.

“Are you going to see what he has to say?” 

Lilly nodded and with shaky fingers began ripping at the edges of the small brown envelope. Halfway through she stopped and looked at her mother, motioning for her to join her on the sofa. Bertha sat down next to her daughter and waited.

“Why? That’s my question, Mama.” Lilly watched Bertha’s face to see if an invisible line had been crossed. When Bertha didn’t flinch or move away, Lilly continued. “Was it me?”

The older woman lowered her eyes and shook her head. “No, Lilly, it wasn’t you, me, or him. It was a tangle of circumstances. We were very young when he marched off to war and when he returned, suddenly we were old. Everything changed. Noises made him jumpy, he stared off in space seeing things he didn’t want to talk about, he couldn’t sit still, he never laughed. He was no longer interested in farm work. I think maybe he’d seen too much death and difficulty and to come home as if nothing had changed, well, it was more than he could accept. It was the restlessness that led to a traveling job. But that couldn’t keep his demons away. For years I tried talking, listening, coaxing…but after a while, anger took over and was later replaced with complacency. Never think for a minute you were the cause of anything but delight for him. He loves you, Lilly, and I suspect you were the reason he stayed as long as he did.”

“Then how could he go without a goodbye? Why haven’t we heard from him until now?”

“I didn’t have the answers then and I don’t now. But never doubt me when I say he loves you.” Bertha enfolded her beautiful daughter in her arms. The embrace broke the hold on months of guarded emotions causing tiny rivulets of tears to course down Bertha’s shoulder as Lilly sobbed into her mother’s neck. They held each other until the crying of one and the trembling of the other was done.

Dear Lilly,

What can I say but that I’m sorry. Sorry for not being able to stay, sorry for going, sorry for not saying goodbye. I hope to make it up to you once I figure out who I am and where I’m going. I don’t expect you to understand when I can’t explain it either. I’ve entered into a VA program in Washington, D.C. to hopefully find some answers. But know this, I love you, Lilly, and am very proud of you. I read your article in
The Community Voice
and carry a copy in my billfold. You have real talent, Lilly, don’t waste it. One more thing—your mother is a good person. We just quit making each other happy and that’s a terrible loss to both of us.

I love you.

Dad

An explanation and an affirmation began melting away long-held suspicions and deep-seated fears. Another bridge crossed. When Lilly learned why her father had left, it no longer made her sad for herself and her mother. Instead, she felt deep regret for her dad and all that he would miss.

Dear BAD,

I can’t believe you are finally coming home for a visit. Mama and I are very excited at seeing you and meeting Conner. By the way, thanks for the picture. He is such a cutie! We’re anxious to get our arms around him. I talked with your folks about me picking you up. I told them it may be a little late and I knew how they didn’t like driving after dark. Anyway, it could give you a little space between getting back and going home. Thought you may want some. I’ll plan to pick you up at The Grillers on old Highway One, Friday afternoon. Did I tell you Mama bought a truck? Don’t worry, I’ll have plenty of practice driving by then. Bertha wanted you to know you are welcome to stay with us if you’re a little nervous that first night. Your folks haven’t said much about your visit, but to be honest, I haven’t seen them much lately either. Don’t worry, BAD, everything will be all right—I’m sure of it.

Can’t wait to see you!

Friends always,

Lilly

Bernadette came to the sad conclusion that any thoughts Stephen had fostered of becoming a father would be erased after driving with Conner to Lone Grove. She was more right than she knew when she had suggested their company would liven things up.

Teething, an unsettled stomach, absorbing some of his mother’s anxiety; whatever the reason for Conner’s fretfulness, it started before they left the island and lasted much of the trip. Uncertainty had allowed Bernadette little sleep the night before and she continually checked her temper and attitude toward her unhappy son. Her hope had been they would both be at their best for their return home. From the sound of her son’s whining and the dark circles under her eyes, it wasn’t going to happen. 

Friday morning saw her packing food and stacking baby gear on the back porch. The pile kept growing along with her nervousness. Conner hadn’t ridden in a car for more than a few hours in his short life and now he was about to embark on a five-hour drive belted in a new car seat. Bernadette couldn’t imagine how she would manage a reasonable conversation in the confined space with someone she barely knew. It occurred to her these worries were late in coming and reminded her of another time when the same thing happened driving
away
from Lone Grove.

“Got everything you need?” Wanda looked at the ever-increasing stash by the door.

“I hope so or it may not all fit. How’s Conner?”

“Poor little fellow is trying to sprout another tooth. I gave him a teething ring straight from the fridge and he is gumming away. I’ll put one in the cooler with his juice.”

“What would we do without you, Wanda? I worry about you trying to do too much while I’m gone. You’ve been awfully tired lately. You will follow doctor’s orders, right?”

“Don’t think one minute about it. With Josh and Deah vying for ‘mother of the year’ I’m not likely to wither away.”

A pitiful cry grabbed their attention. Wanda was the first to respond.

“Poor little guy—so miserable.” She slowly walked in his direction, humming. “Better pack a raincoat! He’ll have you both drowning in drool! Come here, Conner; come to Granny Payne.”

Bernadette decided to take the time Conner was under Wanda’s watchful eye to finish getting herself together. Her recurring thought was how different the return home would be from her hasty exit. She slipped on a pair of comfortable shorts and an old t-shirt. No sense in dressing up to be soaked. She would change at Lilly’s before seeing her folks. She brushed her dark mane and dabbed some loose powder around the green eyes full of weariness. A light touch of color on her lips and she was ready. 

Stephen met them at exactly 12:30 and began loading their equipment in his car. A few minutes later they were speeding down the interstate. Bernadette sat in the passenger’s seat, while Conner, fussing every minute, was strapped in his car seat in back. It made the first half of the drive to Lone Grove especially long.

Attempts at conversation were constantly interrupted by Conner’s fussing; little made him happy. Trying to pacify him had worn his mother thin. To his credit, Stephen remained calm, not showing any signs of annoyance.

Finally, exhausted by his own misery, Conner slept.

“I’m sorry, Stephen. He’s teething. I know it can be pretty irritating for someone not used to being around a kid.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s good practice for a med student, especially one who may go into pediatrics.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

“I haven’t decided for sure yet, but it’s one of my options.”

“That’s great! Well, there’s lots more practice where this is coming from.”

They both managed a chuckle. 

“My sister has a two-year-old who really likes his uncle Steve. That helps a lot. And I’m pretty crazy about him, too. His name is Tyler but his nickname is ‘Chief’ because everyone knows who’s really in charge. He’s a real handful.”

Launching into one of his favorite stories about Chief, it was a while before Stephen noticed the stillness inside the car. Glancing around, he saw the young woman slumped over and the child in the back in deep sleep. Both looked peaceful, almost angelic.

He smiled and picked up his speed.

Bernadette awoke with a bad taste in her mouth and a slight crick in her neck. It took her a few minutes to get fully awake; she checked on Conner.

“Hi. I guess my story wasn’t all that entertaining,” Stephen said.

“It seems like I am always apologizing to you, Stephen, but I am sorry. Short night and frayed nerves.”

“Hey, I understand. I’ve had plenty of those myself.”

“Are you hungry?” Bernadette was suddenly aware of the dryness in her throat and the low growl in her stomach. “I packed some sandwiches, chips, water. Wanda put in some of her chocolate chip cookies.”

“I actually had to skip lunch today; that sounds perfect.” 

She unwrapped a sandwich and handed it to him. Reaching back in the small cooler, she grabbed some water. Chips and cookies went on a paper plate for balancing in his lap. Slowly, between bites, they began something of a conversation.

He came from a large family, lots of brothers and sisters. His mom was a school secretary, his father a plumber. A couple of scholarships, a part-time job, a large student loan and the arrangement with Wanda kept him in school. Bernadette learned he was serious, honest, somewhat shy and a whole lot smart. He had ambition, goals, a plan. It explained Wanda’s fondness for him.

Stephen received a light version of Bernadette’s history: her love of art and working for the Bertans’ gallery, the friend Lilly who would meet them in Lone Grove, and her friendship with Wanda. There was no mention or questions about Conner’s father. In fact, she rarely thought of him or what the lack of his presence meant for her son. Talking with Stephen, the truth struck her. Worries she had put on hold came back full force: how would they be greeted at home?

Half an hour outside Lone Grove, Conner awoke in a much better mood, soaked at both ends and ready to eat. Stephen pulled off into a rest area where Bernadette could take care of Connor’s needs. She would see to hers later at Lilly’s.

The trade-off from car to truck was to take place at a small café off a main road into town. Lilly had written that she would come for them. Bernadette was grateful that her good friend had built in a little transition time. Stephen pulled into The Grillers parking lot around six. Bernadette took Conner inside to call Lilly. Stephen, tired and ready to be home, decided to grab a cup of coffee. He followed them in and sat down in a booth. Bernadette, Conner on her hip, walked to the back looking for a restroom.

Moments later an attractive young woman strode into the café and began looking around for someone. Stephen immediately noticed. She was curvy but slender. She walked with confidence and had a radiant smile. She exuded an enticing mixture of innocence and sexiness causing a slight ripple among the younger male customers. Along with them, Stephen tried not to stare.

Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on two figures emerging from the back of the café.

“BAD!” The woman rushed over to Bernadette and Conner, squeezing squeals from both. “BAD! I couldn’t wait. I came as soon as I thought there was a chance you’d be here. It’s wonderful to see you. And this must be Conner. You are even cuter than your photo.” 

Saucer-eyed, Conner stared, mesmerized by the chatty face.

“Lilly! Lilly! You look great!” 

Tears welling, the women fell into another embrace. Caught in their crunch, Conner let go a screech. Momentarily startled, they broke apart, laughed and began again, speaking at the same time, one sentence layering over another, playing verbal catch-up of time apart. When he’d had enough, Conner’s louder protest interrupted the steady flow. Jarred back into the present, Bernadette remembered Stephen. They walked to the booth where he was seated.

“Lilly, I want you to meet Stephen, the man I told you about who was nice enough to give us a ride. Although, after Connor’s behavior today, I’m not sure he’ll want to again. Stephen, this is my best friend, Lilly.”

Lilly swung around to greet him and was caught off guard by the intensity in his eyes. “It’s nice to meet you, Stephen.” 

He quickly was up from the booth, standing over her by several inches. The hand she instinctively offered with her greeting was immediately caught and held by his.

Warmth suffused her. 

“Very nice to meet you, too.” The words were tight, issued with a hint of reservation. Both stood silent, smiling.

“Lilly, I know Stephen is ready to get back on the road. Why don’t we start putting our things in your truck? Let me warn you, there’s a lot!”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not in a big hurry.” 

“Please, Stephen, go ahead and finish your coffee. You’ve done more than your share today. I’ll start the unloading.” 

Bernadette walked outside, Lilly slowly following her out.

Stephen gulped down the last drops and joined them, his eyes fixed on Lilly.

The shifting of gear took only a short time and they were ready to go.

“Bernadette, I’ll call you when I leave my folks’ house on Monday to give you a heads up, okay? Where would you like to meet? Here?” 

The question aimed at Bernadette was intercepted by Lilly.

“Why don’t you come to our house? It’ll give us a longer time to visit and by then you may be ready for something to eat. There’s usually something baked on a weekend. I could draw you a map. It isn’t far from here, just a little tricky. I’ll give you the phone number.” 

“Okay, sounds good. That’d be nice.” 

Left out of the decision-making, Bernadette busied herself securing Conner in his seat.

With the little details worked out and the trade-off completed, final goodbyes were exchanged.

Back on the road, the two friends rejoined their conversation exactly where they had left off. It made for a quick trip to Lilly’s. Her mother met them at the car and within seconds was cooing at Conner, her kind words mixed with equal part tears. A brief conversation later and Bernadette went to change her clothes and freshen her appearance. Calling from the hallway, she finally managed the question that had silently filled the rooms.

“Do you think my folks are ready to see me, to meet Conner? I haven’t heard much from them since I left.”

A look darted between mother and daughter.

“When you left the way you did, it was a kind of a shock to them. And it was sad, especially for your dad. And then, of course, they didn’t hear from you for a few months; when they did it was that you were going to be a mother. Well, I guess that was even more of a surprise. I know they love you very much but it may take a little time to ease all the feelings back in place. But things do have a way of flowing back together, Bernadette.” Bertha’s answer was tender; Bernadette’s load still heavy.

“Wait until they meet their grandson.” Lilly’s words were more upbeat than the feelings behind them. “They’ve been showing the photos of Conner to folks and they do talk some about your painting. You could tell they were proud of your work in the gallery. It may take a little while, but they’ll come around, you’ll see.”

Bernadette remembered the Christmas card signed, ‘Love, Mama’.

“I hope you’re right, Lilly.”

“Remember,” Bertha offered, “you can always come back over here to spend the night. I mean, if they don’t seem ready.”

“Thank you. Conner and I may be back. Guess we’ll just have to see what type of welcome we receive.”

“And Bernadette, one more thing.” Lilly’s mother chose her words carefully. “They never knew why. I’m not saying you have to apologize. I’m only suggesting you help them understand why.”

Bernadette wondered how she would explain something that had nothing and everything to do with them—something almost forgotten, lost somewhere in the time away.