Diane Greenwood Muir - Bellingwood 06 - A Season of Change (29 page)

“There are people downstairs,” he whispered.

“So we’ll be quiet,” she whispered back. “Remember that whole married-for-less-than-twenty-four-hours? I want to make it worth our while.”

“Will you ever let me sleep?” Henry winked at her as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Maybe, but you have to set your alarm. I’m not ready to explain this to a couple of ten year olds.”

“Got it.” He took his shoes and socks off and stood up while she pushed the blankets back. “I like this part of being married to you. The rest of it is going to take some getting used to.”

“Shut up and come here.”

A little later, when Henry’s phone alarm chirped, Polly turned over and nudged him. “We have to get up. The kids will be back soon.”

“You get up. I’m staying here. It’s warm under the blankets.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’m going to take a shower. What time are we supposed to be at Lydia’s?”

“Dinner is at six.” He pulled the blankets over his head.

“You are really a slug,” she said and tossed a pair of his sweatpants at him. “Put those on in case the kids get here.”

His hand came out from under the covers and he grabbed them. “I thought living with you was going to be glorious. I’d forgotten about weekends.”

Polly picked Luke up from the end of the bed and deposited him on Henry’s stomach as she went into the bathroom. He let loose an “oomph” and then nothing more. Luke knew a good thing and curled into a ball on top of his new source of warmth.

Henry was still under the blankets when she came back into the bedroom looking for clothes. She pulled her robe on and dug around for something decent to wear and then went back into the bathroom. Even with Sylvie’s promise, she was just sure that Rebecca and Andrew might walk up the steps at any moment. Locking doors in Sycamore House didn’t mean anything when they could be opened with the swipe of a smart phone.

When she was dressed, she went into the living room, figuring that if Henry needed more sleep, he could have it. She’d put him through a lot the last couple of days. It was funny. For the most part, she took the strange things that happened to her in stride. The stress was sometimes a little overwhelming while she was in the middle of it, but once everything was dealt with, there was always something else to think of.

Just yesterday she’d watched a woman hold Rebecca at knife point because she was in love with Henry. This morning they’d discovered the wine had been stolen and found the thieves, discovered who killed Bruce Victor, and then watched a young man fall apart because his wife was a lying gold digger. And in the middle of everything, she’d gotten married. Who else lived like this?

Polly picked things up in the living room and went into the kitchen. Dinner was in just a couple of hours, but she was starving. McDonald’s breakfast wasn’t enough to get her through an entire day. She sliced some bread and popped it in the toaster, then leaned over the peninsula and surveyed her apartment. It seemed strange to realize that this was too small. It felt so immense when she first moved in.

Henry had laid the wood for these floors and made sure it was ready for her when she got back from Boston. He’d built beautiful bookcases that she filled with her treasured books. They’d sat on that sofa and played, laughed and cried. They’d eaten more pizza in the last year than she’d ever eaten in her life, while dealing with the craziness that she brought on herself. He loved her. Polly twisted her mother’s diamond ring. It was her ring now. She couldn’t believe what he’d done for her over and over again.

The toast popped up and as she buttered it, air moved and Henry’s arms were around her waist. He smelled fresh from the shower. She turned around in his arms. “I love you, Henry Sturtz.”

“I know,” he grinned.

There was a knock at their front door.

“Come in,” Polly called out. Henry took
a piece of toast.

“Mom said we had to knock,” Andrew announced, leading Rebecca into the apartment. “And we can’t use the back stairway anymore because that’s your bedroom.”

“We’ll figure out new rules for that,” Polly said. “During the week, you can use it. On weekends, it would be nice to have you come in the front door. How’s that?”

“Cool. Did you really get married?” he blurted out.

Polly and Henry looked at each other and burst into laughter. Rebecca shook her head wildly. “I didn’t tell,” she said. “I promise.”

Andrew turned on her. “You knew?”

“She was there. We did it yesterday afternoon. We thought it might be a better way for her to end the day,” Henry interjected. “How did you find out?”

“I heard Mom and Jeff and Rachel talking about it.”

“Great. We’re dead meat,” Polly said. “Lydia’s going to kill me.”

“Well at least we’ll go down together. Since we’ll be there in a couple of hours, we won’t have to wait too long for the pain to begin,” Henry said.

“Should we take Obiwan out?” Rebecca asked.

“Sure! Thanks.”

Andrew started toward the back door and stopped. “Sorry,” he said.

“Don’t worry. It’s okay. You can go that way when we’re out here,” Polly said. “Go on.” She turned to Henry after they left. “I need to call Sylvie and tell her we’ll be gone this evening. Maybe Doug and Billy can watch them.”

She dialed Sylvie and heard noise in the background when her friend answered. “I’m so sorry to bother you. I didn’t realize the wedding reception was this early in the day.”

“No problem. What’s up?”

“Henry and I are going to Lydia’s for dinner. Do you want me to ask Doug or Billy to sit with Andrew and Rebecca?”

“No, that’s fine. I have it covered. You guys go on over and don’t worry about anything.”

“How did you find out?”

Sylvie gave a small cackle. “I have my ways. Nothing is hidden in Bellingwood. Enjoy your evening.”

Polly hung up, “She told me to enjoy my evening. That sounds ominous.”

Andrew and Rebecca had taken books to read down to Sarah Heater’s room for the evening, so it was quiet when Polly and Henry left for the Merritt’s home. Their front lights were on and he pulled in and parked just past the front door.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked, taking her arm as they went up the steps.

“Nope, but we might as well get it over with. Once I tell Lydia I’m sorry, it will be fine. It’s just getting past that initial guilt.”

He rang the doorbell and opened the storm door as Aaron opened the main door.

“Come on in,” Aaron said. “Lydia is downstairs with Seth. Since you wouldn’t let me walk you down the aisle, I’m grilling steaks tonight.” He shut the door behind them and motioned for them to take the steps to the lower level.

Polly went first and when she got past the overhang, heard voices yell, “Surprise!”

She looked around the room and all of her friends were there. Jeff was standing over Sarah Heater, who had found a comfortable seat. Polly wondered when she would have to have the conversation with the woman about finding a home for her daughter. That wasn’t something she wanted to do. But someday soon, the time would be right.

Rebecca and Andrew rushed forward to pull her into the room, “We didn’t tell you a thing! Mom made us promise,” Andrew exclaimed.

“How did you get here?” she asked.

“Jeff brought us and Eliseo brought Jason. Mom and Rachel will be here as soon as the rest of the people get out of Sycamore House.”

Beryl came up behind them and handed Polly a gift bag, “That’s kind of naughty. I couldn’t wait for you to go to Victoria’s Secret on your own, so I did it for you. Don’t open it in front of the old people. Congratulations.”

“How did you know?” Polly whispered.

“Poor Aaron didn’t have a chance. He picked Lydia up to get the little boy and she knew as soon as she saw his face. We’ve been on the phone all afternoon rounding everyone up. No one wanted to miss this.”

J. J. and Ryan waved from a corner where they were talking to Joss and Nate. Patrick was standing a little apart from the group, but J. J. continually tried to draw him into the conversation. Doug Randall and his parents were talking to Andy and Len Specek. Billy was standing with them and Polly wondered whatever had happened with Doug and Anita. One of these days she’d find a way to talk to him and make sure everything was okay.

Bill Sturtz and Eliseo came in through the sliding doors laden with platters of meat. Marie was behind the bar, unwrapping covered dishes and Polly crossed the room to where Lydia was standing over Seth in a playpen.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you first. I didn’t intend for anyone to know until I talked to you,” Polly said.

“Stop it,” Lydia scolded. “You have nothing to apologize for. You did what we wanted you to do. You married the boy. I thought we’d get to have a big wedding, but you did it your way. You shouldn’t feel badly about that.”

“Well, I do. We’re going to have a big party at Sycamore House when I can get a date on the calendar with Jeff, but this is amazing. I can’t believe what you pulled off.”

“It was just a few phone calls. Everyone else did the work.” Lydia bent down and lifted Seth into her arms. “I played with this cutie all day.”

“When are his grandparents coming into town?”

“They’ll be here tomorrow. Aaron got Lori’s keys and they’re going to stay at the house until they can get things sold and packed up. They’re good people.”

“She made them sound horrible.”

“She and her sister have a pretty messed up idea of what life is all about,” Lydia said and nuzzled Seth’s neck, then handed the boy to a very surprised Henry and led Polly away. “Aaron tells me you talked to her this morning. I can’t believe he’s charging her with accessory to murder.”

“I can’t believe she killed her husband.”

“Bruce caught her boyfriend loading cases of wine that night. He was using that utility vehicle to transport them to his car. Barry hit him with it and knocked him out. He took the time to unload the wine, then loaded Bruce into the vehicle and called Lori. It was her knife that killed him. Aaron found it at her house today. She figured they’d been caught stealing anyway and the stupid woman drove over and helped him finish the job. They put him up by the work site so no one would look in the vineyard, then ran the utility vehicle into the ravine and left. They spent the rest of the time emptying the wine cellar, figuring that without a winemaker, no one would be in the wine cellar until it was settled. She planned to be out of town before Aaron figured it out.”

“Did Aaron tell you about Annalise and Patrick?”

“Poor boy. Aaron called a buddy in Ames and they’ll get him into the house tomorrow to get his things. I’m glad he’s staying with Bill and Marie. He needs someone other than his self-centered mother to take care of him right now. I know he’s upset, but he’ll be fine. He’s still young and even though those boys fight a lot, they’re best friends. They’ll take care of each other.”

“Thank you for doing this tonight, Lydia. Things have moved so quickly these last couple of days that I didn’t have time to do the one thing I wanted to do most of all and that was talk to you.”

“I love you, Polly.” Lydia said. “Is it Polly Sturtz now?”

Polly laughed. “Nope. Still Polly Giller. Henry and I both agreed that’s who I am. I offered to change my name and he told me that it didn’t seem right.”

Lydia nodded and beckoned Henry over to join them. She took Seth back and said, “You two are going to have fun together.”

Henry pulled Polly close. “We’re really married now. Everyone knows.” He bent in and whispered in her ear, “I love you, Polly Giller. And fun hardly describes what our life is going to be.”

She smiled up at him. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t think there are enough words to describe what being married to you will be like, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“Good. Let’s face the rest of the crowd.”

“Together,” he said.

“Always.”

Every writer hopes that people will read their books and find the same joy in them that he or she has when writing. Within a couple of days following publication, the horrible reality sets in: the world doesn’t see things the same way. It’s not easy. The author’s soul is exposed and plenty of people are more than happy to trample all over it.

However, that’s not the end of the tale. It’s not even the middle of the story. What happens next is the moment that gives writers the courage to continue. Readers show up who connect with their stories. They reach out. They laugh in the right places, cry when they should - and when they’re finished reading, they ask for more.

The Bellingwood series has connected with wonderful readers and they will always be the reason these stories continue to be told. A writer can’t stop writing – words beg for release. But a writer who has readers like mine would never consider any other life. These people bring to life the words that describe the town of Bellingwood: “Where strangers become friends and friends become family.”

The family keeps getting bigger and I can’t offer enough thanks to all of you who read my books, love them and make sure you tell me. I love getting to know you!

Thank you to Rebecca Bauman, Tracy Kesterson Simpson, Linda Watson, Carol Greenwood, Alice Stewart, Max Muir, Edna Fleming and Nancy Quist for all they do to make these books happen.

Each time I send out a manuscript to them, it is returned with amazing insight. They uncover continuity issues, challenge me on vocabulary, ask for more description and stop me when I’ve over-said something. They tell me when they love something and are brutally honest when they hate something. They each come from unique perspectives in life and bring that with them to the story. I trust them with my words and their attention always makes the book better by leaps and bounds.