Authors: Sherri Coner
“But your life could be here,” Chesney said steadily. She was barely able to contain the joy she felt, just to hope that Becca would one day change her address from Chicago to Bean Blossom, Indiana. “Just yesterday, you said that you lose the Chicago Stress headache the moment you get here.”
Becca placed the last few articles of clothing on top of the suitcase and sat down on the bed to look directly at Chesney. “Last night, Deke and I sat outside under the moon,” she smiled and such a rare tenderness was in her eyes that Chesney nearly cried. “We watched the sunrise. We talked about every imaginable subject,” Tears gathered in Becca’s eyes and she added, “I’ve never had that kind of a connection with any other guy. He’s…he’s just…he’s just so easy to be around. He’s so authentic. He seems simple, but he’s not. He’s actually very dimensional. He’s very philosophical. He’s very kind.”
“You’re right. Deke is all those things and many more,” Chesney nodded. “I think the world of him. And you know, Bec, if things got really serious between the two of you, maybe Deke would move to Chicago for you.”
“I’d never ask that of him,” Becca said as tears filled her eyes again. “This little berg in the hills is a big part of who Deke is. That’s part of why I feel so drawn to him. He is so tenderhearted and grounded. He doesn’t put on airs. He just is who he is. He’s got that silly hardware store where he stocks everything imaginable. But then he’s got that wonderful little cabin, with canvases all over the place.”
“Did he tell you he has a show in a few weeks at the gallery in Nashville?” Chesney asked.
Becca’s eyes misted. “I’ll be back for that. I would never miss watching Deke have his dream.”
To see Becca exhibit so much emotion was a surprise. But Chesney decided not to talk to her about it just yet. She climbed off the bed and began to fold towels, fresh from the laundry. “Maybe you find it difficult to believe, Bec, but people in the country need accountants, too,”
“I’m not as good with change as you are, Chez,” Becca said. “I’d be so afraid to leave Chicago. It’s all I’ve ever known. I don’t think I could leave everything I know.”
“Maybe you should look differently at that decision,” Chesney said. “Maybe you shouldn’t view it as leaving everything, Bec. Change can be about adding all new experiences to the old ones you’ve known forever. You could look forward to what else you can be by moving here.” Careful not to seem like she was applying pressure, Chesney added, “Well if you moved anywhere, not just here, you would see that good things come from change.”
“This lecture from the chick who won’t even kiss the hot handyman,” Bec grinned.
“Dalton told me months ago that he wasn’t attracted to me,” Chesney said. “Don't you remember that? I told you all about it.”
“Oh, Chez, sometimes you are so dense. When Dalton said that, he was lying,”
“No, I don't think so. He was pretty darn blunt about it,” Chesney argued.
“If I recall, you were being a hag when Dalton came here to work on the house,” Becca rolled her eyes. “So, of course he lied. The guy has pride, you know. He also has a beautiful chest and incredible eyes to go with all that pride.”
“Stop it.”
“Why don't you think about this, Chez?” Becca sighed. “Why would Dalton Moore hang around here all day, every day, for all this time? He's even here on the weekends.”
“You saw what a wreck this place was when I moved in,” Chesney said. “Summer is nearly over. There are still quite a few repairs to do before winter.”
“You're blind,” Becca rolled her eyes again. “Yep, you’re not only blind, you’re giving me a headache. It's very obvious that Dalton Moore is completely enamored by you.”
Even though her chest was warm with the possibility of Becca’s words, Chesney wasn’t willing to set herself up for a fall.
“Does a guy walk in the moonlight with you if your presence gags him?”
“Dalton didn't invite me to walk with him last night,” Chesney snapped.
“You shoved him into it.”
“Only because both of you act like you're in fifth grade.”
“Sometimes Dalton seems so weird and mysterious,” Chesney sighed as she grabbed the larger piece of luggage and followed Becca down the stairs. “What about that comment Dalton made last night before he left? What about, 'See you in a moon smile?' Why did he say that? What if he’s some kind of psycho? Why is he so secretive? Why doesn’t he just tell me how he knew Grace? And by the way, Bec, he obviously knew her very well. ‘See you in a moon smile’ was what Grace always said to me and anyone else who was dear to her. Dalton obviously said it so I would react. I just don’t get it.”
Becca dropped her luggage on the bottom step. “Obviously, Dalton knew your grandmother very well. And he was dropping a hint to let you know.”
“A lot of people around here knew Grace,” Chesney said. “Luke at the hardware store, Doyle White, the guy I bought the truck from and the ladies at the post office. Even Deke. Grace was a well-known seamstress and she was very active in the church, but none of them brought up her saying, 'See you in a moon smile.'”
That saying was private. At least Chesney thought it was, only used by Grace as a good-bye to the people she loved.
“One thing is certain, Chez. You won't know the answers unless you ask him,” Becca smiled and threw her arms around Chesney for a hug. “I hate to leave, I really do. I'll call in a few days. And when I do, I will expect all the juicy details about how you finally came to your senses and seduced that gorgeous hunk of handyman before he could even get his tool belt off.”
“Stop it, Bec,” Chesney said, embarrassed.
“You know I love you,” she smiled.
As Chesney turned to drag Bec’s luggage out the front door to the rental car, Becca knelt down to accept some sloppy good-bye kisses from Blossom. Then the doorbell rang. Chesney peeked out the window and smiled. “Well, would you look who’s here, Bec? It’s Deke. I guess he had to see you before you leave.”
Becca’s face lit up as she rushed over and flung open the door. She wasted no time placing her arms around Deke’s neck. “I’ll be back soon,” she smiled up at him. “And I can’t wait to see your show at the gallery.”
“Call me, Bec, so I know you got home safely,” Chesney pecked Becca’s cheek and squeezed Deke’s shoulder before wandering into the kitchen so they could have some privacy. After she heard the door of Becca’s rental car open and shut, and Deke’s motorcycle roar back to the hardware store, Chesney paced through the house, feeling a lot more alone than she cared to admit. She tried not to wonder if these moments, sometimes just walking aimlessly from room to room, indicated how the rest of her life would be.
She opened the door and squinted in the bright sunlight while Blossom took the opportunity to ramble out the door and hop through the overgrown flowerbeds. Chesney sat down on the swing, allowing her bare feet to scuff the porch floor. When she was alone this way the loneliness sometimes banged around in her chest. People who had a life partner had no idea what it was like to eat every meal alone. They had no idea how much energy she had to muster to be the third wheel for family events. When the rest of the world was sleeping, Chesney often tossed and turned in bed or sat here on the swing, always trying to prepare for whatever was next. She never prayed for a good, loyal man to cross her path. That didn’t seem to be a prayer worthy problem. She knew she could survive as a solo act. She secretly grieved about it though, because she didn’t truly want things this way.
In so many ways, Becca was so different from Chesney. While Chesney tried and failed so many times at love, Becca held back. While Chesney decided immediately that she was in love, Becca did not connect easily to men. She protected her heart with sarcastic comments and man bashing. And so, to see Becca’s eyes soften, to see her rush into Deke’s arms, well, it stirred a happiness in Chesney’s heart. She had always wished for Becca to one day be comforted by the sweet gift of a good man’s love.
“Grace, at moments like these I realize I should have asked more questions about your life alone,” Chesney whispered. “I guess I just never considered the possibility of living my life alone like you did. I’m beginning to realize that I am plagued with the same curse as you. You were unlucky in love. And so am I.”
To move past the lonely ache that seemed to fill her entire body, Chesney mulled over the unusual moments during last night’s walk with Dalton. His eyes, shadowed by the moonlight, stared into hers so intently. Was she completely stupid to somehow feel that Dalton wanted to say something, reveal something? If he did want to tell her about something, why didn’t he just blurt it out? She closed her eyes and very plainly heard his voice in her head. 'See you in a moon smile.'
“Damn it.” She sighed and leaned back with her fingers laced together behind her head. “Something weird is going on,” Chesney whispered to herself. “Something just doesn’t feel right.”
Chesney went back inside, locking the door behind her. She went upstairs and again decided to study the photo of the mystery man. “Mister, I’m starting to think that you have something to do with this,” Chesney said as she again studied the old man’s face. “But what is it? Who are you?” With the photo in hand, Chesney returned to the attic. “Grace, I’m beginning to think this weird feeling about some kind of weird secret also has something somehow to do with you,” Chesney sat down on the dusty floor and scolded Blossom for trying to attack the tasseled edges of an old Persian rug. She again reached for the stack of scrapbooks. “Please don't think I'm prying, Grace, but I have to. I have to somehow discover what it is that’s being kept from me. I need to look for other clues.”
Long past sunset, was Chesney still on the attic floor. She hadn’t bothered to go downstairs to make anything to eat. She hadn’t bothered to return a call to her sister even though she promised two days ago that she would call Charlotte. She was far too stubborn to give up searching. But how insane was she, to obsess about a search when she had no idea what in the world she was trying to find?
Chesney patiently turned individual pages of the photo albums. She removed a few of the photographs and flipped them over, to see if a hint of some kind had been written on the back. She found nothing. There were no other photos of the man with the white hair. So Chesney then decided to search for old photos of Richard Blake. Maybe Grace kept their wedding picture. Maybe she had a couple of photos tucked away of Richard with his son. If she could find at least one photo of her grandfather, she could then compare that find with the photo of the mystery man. No luck. So she decided to take a break from investigative work.
She smiled as she opened one of the trunks. Each of them cont
ained Grace’s favorite dresses.
Chesney carefully removed a beautiful sky blue dancing dress. She pressed the soft chiffon against her cheek, then set it aside.
“This was my first special dress,” Grace had said when she and Chesney were together in the attic, sifting through our memories. “I loved this beautiful blue one. What a wonderful feeling I had, when the skirt danced with me. I felt like a princess, twirling around on the ballroom floor. Sometimes a young man would invite me to waltz. But during social events at the Williams Theater, I often danced with my father. That was in South Carolina, before our family moved to Southern Indiana.”
Chesney remembered every story about each dress. With the blue dress carefully pressed to her body, she twirled a few times around the attic room, pretending Grace was there too, watching. Again, Chesney’s heart broke, for her beautiful, talented grandmother and all the lonely years Grace spent alone in this huge house.
“I wish someone had loved you, Grace,” Chesney whispered. “You should have let go of the past and let someone love you.”
For months after Grace died, Chesney sobbed when she remembered that her grandmother died alone. Someone from the community had discovered Grace’s lifeless body. As the years passed, Chesney still hadn’t made peace with her Grandmother’s life and death, spent alone.
“Am I following in your footsteps?” She folded the soft chiffon and returned it to the trunk. “Have I made Chesney Ridge a reclusive prison like you did, Grace?”
Chesney opened the second trunk, turned the trunk on its side and rifled carefully through the contents. Other dresses spilled over on the floor and Blossom grabbed the ruffled skirt of the lovely tea-length beauty Grace had sewn for herself. Before Chesney could grab the curious pup, Blossom tunneled her way to the bottom of the trunk. With her hind feet, Blossom kicked dance dresses, shoes and scarves all over the floor.
“Stop it, Blossom,” Chesney scrambled to get the dresses. “Get out of there.”
When she reached for the trunk lid, fearing it might accidentally fall on Blossom, the rusty hinges broke and a faded envelope fell from a slit purposefully cut through the lid. As she stared at the envelope, unsure of how she felt about looking at the contents, Chesney felt as if she was spying. Maybe Becca was right. If Grace wanted her granddaughter to know about every part of her life, she wouldn’t have gone to such trouble to hide this envelope. She ran her fingers across the back of the unsealed envelope, wondering what to do.
“I want to respect your privacy, Grace, but I also feel like there’s something about your life that I need to know. Somehow it feels like Dalton has a part in this, too.”
She reached inside the envelope and carefully unfolded one of many letters. Written in dark black, smudged ink, the second line of the letter made Chesney gasp. Obviously, it was a love letter written to her grandmother. But with no date on the letter, Chesney wondered if these letters might have been from Grace’s teen years. She read slowly, with her heart beating wildly.