All Roads Lead Home (Bellingwood) (18 page)

Lydia left the two alone in the foyer and they looked
at each other. Taking a breath, Polly asked, "Have you ever been here
before?"

"Nope,” Sylvie said hesitantly. “We seem to have
been left alone, though.
Shall we enter?"

Polly went first and then stopped as she looked into a
room off the entrance hall.

The front room was enveloped in color. There was no
good place for her eye to land first. She breathed and tried to take it all in.
There were four wing chairs. They were all the same shape, but each was covered
differently. Reds and blues, greens and burgundies, yellows, oranges, deep
purples and browns. Some of the patterns were
geometric,
there were fleur de
lis
and other shapes
as well
. Nothing matched, but it all fit
together. There were several rugs piled on each other in places. Wooden side
tables were filled with vases and candlesticks, picture frames and other knick
knacks. A long table was pushed up under the front window and on it were plants
and small china dolls. The front window was covered with sheer panels, and then
burgundy and blue fabric was draped from the curtain rod. From the ceiling a
chandelier covered in crystals softly lit the space and an immense mirror at
the far end of the room reflected the entire effect, making the room seem quite
deep. The walls were covered from floor to ceiling in
striped
blue and
ivory wallpaper which seemed to shimmer in the light.

Five paintings were hung on the wall opposite the
window. Polly stepped in to look at them more closely. Yes, there was Beryl's
signature at the bottom of each. The center painting was
the largest
with
two smaller paintings on either side. The
large
painting
was of a tree in a meadow. At
least that is what Polly saw when she looked at it closely. It was a little
abstract,
though she felt pretty confident she recognized the
image. The four other paintings were obviously painted as complements, pulling
their main color from one of the colors of the central painting. When she
looked
more closely
, she saw that
Beryl
had taken a section of the tree and enlarged it, showing detail of what might
be happening in the branches: a few birds and even a squirrel; a section of the
meadow with a mouse and some other creatures, the sky with the sun glinting off
clouds and the trunk of the tree with bugs and snails crawling through the
bark. All abstract, all precise.

"Look at this, Sylvie," she whispered. "Just
look at this!"

The two of them were staring at the paintings when
Beryl peeked into the door.

"You girls haven't gotten very far inside. This
is going to be a long night if you stand around gaping at everything."

"Beryl," Polly exclaimed, "this is
absolutely amazing!" She looked back at the wall, “It's amazing!"

"Enough. Come on, let's get going." Beryl
said and when she walked over to them, she took both by the arm and propelled
them back into the hallway.

The hallway opened into a very comfortable living
room. The decor was quite different from the first room. Great, big comfortable
couches were covered with quilts, knitted throws and pillows. Once again,
multiple rugs covered the floor, overlapping each other. The theme for this
room seemed to be denim. Huge pillows, covered in various shades of blue denim
were positioned around the
floor,
tall candlesticks
rose up from behind sofas and chairs with white candles standing on them. There
was a fire in the fireplace and oversized lamps scattered around the room. The
wooden tables were rustic and had magazines and art books scattered across
them. Behind the sofa on the
frontroom
wall, an
enormous bookshelf filled the space. Polly, distracted, walked over to peer
behind the sofa. Two wooden stepstools invited someone to look at the top
shelves, but Beryl was impatient.

"Polly. Really." she said.

"Are you kidding me with this, Beryl?" Polly
asked. "You can't bring me into a place like this and not expect me to
look around. There are so many amazing things."

The walls in this room had no room for paintings, but
Polly saw there were several smaller pieces amongst the things on the mantel of
the fireplace. She started to walk over there to look at them and Beryl took
her arm again.

"That's enough. Come on," she said and
tugged Polly towards the stairs leading down to another room. Polly saw there
was a set of stairs leading up and assumed those went to bedrooms, but it
didn't seem as if Beryl was going to let her explore. A small hallway wound to
what Polly figured had to be the kitchen. She was dying to know what Beryl's
kitchen looked like,
but she was led down
the steps
into a fairyland.

Twinkling lights were draped and swooping from lowered
rafters. Another fireplace was filled with a crackling fire. A small kitchen
and bar was tucked in under the
stairway
and a roomy table was elegantly set up with candles
and flowers. It seemed every space on every wall in this room was taken up with
paintings. A plush multi-colored carpet
was underfoot and the overhead lamp was muted, bathing the room in a golden
glow. Bookshelves lined the lower three feet of the room and as Polly glanced
around, saw they lined the entire lower level of the
house
, even the
front of the bar of the kitchen.

Before she could take off to look at anything in the
room, Andy had pressed a glass of something in her hand. "A toast,"
she cried, "to Saturday night!"

Polly brought her attention back to the group of women
and raised her glass. Drinking it, she nearly choked, "What's in
here?" she asked.

Beryl smiled, "Maybe I overdid it with the tabasco?
It's a bloody martini."

Polly took a sip, "It's pretty good if I sip it. But,
wait. What else is in here?"

This time Beryl laughed out loud. "I found Bacon
Vodka! Isn't it great?"

All of them laughed with her and then she said, "The
first game for the evening is for you to figure out which seat is yours. It
shouldn't be too difficult, but you have to guess and then open the box on your
plate. If it's yours, you'll know and you can sit down. If it's not, you have
to shut the box quickly so no one else can see and then look again."

The four women giggled and went over to the table. Each
of them looked around, there were no clues,
so
they picked up a
box and looked inside. Polly found a baby rattle. That made no sense to her, so
she closed the box and put it back on the table, then looked at the others. They
were all snickering, but it seemed as if Andy's snicker was a little bit pointed
toward her
. No
one had chosen the right box, so they picked up their glasses. Polly went to
where Andy had been, and dammit, sure enough. Inside was a bright purple bra. She
closed the box and sat down.

"Aren't you going to show us?" Beryl
asked
.

"Hell no.
You are all awful. If I show you, you're going to
want me to put it on." Polly said.

Andy picked up the box Polly had opened, looked at it
with some confusion and then closed it and put it back down. "
Oh my
, I hope
not," she said.

Neither of the others had landed on their box yet, so
they moved again. Sylvie opened the box at the place on Polly's left. She sat
down with a smile on her face. "You shouldn't have," she said.

Beryl was standing behind her and patted her on the
shoulder. "Of course I should, you deserve it."

"What do you have?" Polly asked, leaning
over to look in the box. Sylvie pulled a chain out with two charms on it. Her
boys' initials were on each charm. Between them was an amethyst and on either
side were two other stones, a ruby and a diamond.

"Birthdays?"
Polly asked again.

"Yes. Mine is in February, Jason's in July and
Andrew's is April." Sylvie turned to look up at Beryl. "Thank you so
much." Beryl patted her shoulder again.

"Alright ladies.
Are your gifts right? Andy?"

Andy sat down in the chair and opened the box. "Yes,
this is so me!" She pulled out a set of salt and pepper shakers. When they
were placed together, two black cats wrapped around each other.

"You have cats?" Polly asked.

"Yes.
Chaz
and Addams," she said. "I'll show you
later."

Lydia had a puzzled look on her face, "I guess
this is mine, but I don't get it," she said.

"Sit down, grandma. I have some news for
you," Beryl said.

"Really?
Who?"
Lydia asked.

"Marilyn called me yesterday and asked if I could
find a creative way to tell you that she and Brian were pregnant again. They're
coming over tomorrow after church, but she thought I could have fun with this. And
I did!"

A small smile lit Lydia's face. "I can't believe
it. I didn't even know they were trying. After they'd worked so hard to have
the twins, I didn't think they'd be able to have anymore." She looked
around the room. "Girls, I'm going to be a grandma again!"

Then she sai
d,
"Thank you, Beryl. I hope it i
s okay
that this will be one of the baby's first gifts!"

Beryl threw her arms around her friend. "Of
course it's okay! Now, drink up, ladies, I have pitchers more of this stuff in
the refrigerator." She walked back over to the bar and Lydia got up as if
to help.

"Nope, sit still. All I'm going to do is grab a
few things. I can do this by myself."

Picking up one of Polly's baskets of bread, she set it
on the table and then brought over an antique blue and white covered soup
tureen.

"First course, bread and soup," and with a
flourish she whipped the lid up and steam poured out. "It's a theme.
Potato and bacon soup."

The rest of the meal was served from the bar,
brussels
sprouts, asparagus and beans were Andy's offering. Lydia
had brought mashed potatoes and roasted acorn squash. Small covered dishes at
place setting
s
were filled with fresh bacon crumbles and Beryl's ham
was heavenly. By the time dinner was over, Polly was sure she would burst. She
looked at Sylvie and said, "I don't know how I'm going to eat any dessert
tonight."

"Don't worry, I think we have a little time
before we have to worry about that," Andy said as she stood and started to
gather up the dishes around her.

"Stop that," Beryl said and pushed her hand
back down. "You know better," then she called out, "Deena?
Meryl?" Two high school girls came down the steps.

"Did you have a good supper?" Beryl asked
the girls.

"Yes! It was awesome! Thank you," one of
them said and the two girls started clearing the table.

"They live in the neighborhood and help me out,"
she explained. "They take art lessons from me. It's kind of nice having t
wo excellent protégés around.
I appreciate all they do. It's kind of like
having," she paused, "I was going to say a wife, but they don't nag
me. Well, anyway, they'll take care of all this and we’re going back upstairs. Leave
your boxes. They'll make sure everything is ready to go when you leave."

Polly put her napkin down beside her plate, stood up
and followed them upstairs. While they had been eating, the main room had been
transformed. The rugs were pulled up and large tarps covered the floor. Four
easels were set up with 20 x 30 canvases on them and stools were placed in
front each canvas. Wrap-around aprons lay across
a
small stand beside
each stool
and
an array of paints, brushes, charcoal, pencils, chalk and pastels was laid out
on a card table.

Beryl said, "Pick a medium and an easel."

Sylvie looked at her, stricken. "I'm not an
artist!"

P
olly
interjected, "And you're
intimidating!"

"Oh, stop it," Beryl said, a little
disgusted. "You are all creative and I don't care at all what your
canvases look like. Splatter color on them. All that matters is your hands get
a little dirty and you make something happen between your mind and the canvas. If
you want help, I'll help you, but I know you can all do this. Now get moving!"

They jumped at her command and scurried over to the
art mediums. Sylvie fingered the charcoal before picking up a piece. She chose
the easel as far away as possible from Beryl. Lydia grabbed a few of the
pencils, then thought about it and took a few more.

Andy laughed and started squeezing acrylic paint onto
a palette. "I've done this before, I know what to expect and I know what
to do, too!" She picked up a few brushes and made her way to another
easel. Polly stood in front of the different mediums looking shaken, Beryl
said, "Take the pastels. They're perfect for you."