Mystic Park (16 page)

CHAPTER 18

Vaughn couldn't take his eyes off Benita Friday evening during Trinity Falls University's gala in Ms. Helen's honor. She was a vision in a modest cream A-line dress. The hem came to just above her knees, showing off her shapely calves. He took a long drink from his glass of lemonade. His gaze tracked her as she escorted Ms. Helen into the university's President's Dining Room.

Darius nudged him with his elbow. “Are you going to stand there staring at Benita all night or are you going to greet our guest of honor before her crowd of admirers gets larger?”

“Lead the way.” Greeting Ms. Helen would also get him closer to Benita.

Peyton poked Darius's arm. The history professor's voice was dry. “Why don't
I
lead the way since you gentlemen are more interested in debating.”

The trio paused behind a small group of faculty, staff, administrators, and board members that claimed Ms. Helen's attention. Vaughn shifted his stance to watch Benita while he waited. Her hair hung in loose waves that floated just past her slender shoulders. An easy smile lit her hazel eyes. Its warmth cast a spell on him, making him feel as though they were the only people in the room.

Darius stepped forward. His movement broke Vaughn's trance. He could finally see Ms. Helen, standing beside Benita.

“Ms. Helen, you're beautiful.” Darius took the emerita professor's hand and leaned over to kiss her cheek.

The diminutive lady glowed in her ankle-length black evening gown. The dress was accented with a chunky silver necklace and matching dangling earrings. Her snow white hair, swept into her customary thick chignon, was a dramatic contrast to her outfit. Her makeup was minimal.

Ms. Helen slipped her hand from Darius's hold. Her dark eyes twinkled up at him. “Save your flowery compliments for your age-appropriate girlfriend.”

Darius wrapped his left arm around Peyton's waist. “Your words wound me, Ms. Helen. Besides, Peyton knows you hold a special place in my heart.”

“Give it a rest, Romeo.” Peyton patted his chest, then offered Ms. Helen her hand. “Congratulations, Ms. Helen. This recognition is very well deserved.”

“Thank you, dear.” Ms. Helen beamed at Peyton with affection.

Vaughn took their guest of honor's hand. “Ms. Helen, it's always been an honor to know you.”

Ms. Helen's smile faded and a blush rose into her pale gold cheeks. “The honor has been mine, Vaughn.”

The elderly professor stepped forward to hug him. She was small and slight in his arms. He bent lower to return her embrace. Her fragile hand patted his back twice before she stepped back.

“Well.” Ms. Helen waved her hand to encompass Vaughn, Darius, and Peyton. “After this welcome, I don't think the rest of the ceremony is necessary. Benita can just take me home now.”

“Nice try, Aunt Helen.” Benita's laughter wobbled a bit. “But the guest of honor has to stay until the end.”

“That's right,” Peyton added. “We have a lot more in store for you, Ms. Helen.”

“It's Doctor Gaston tonight.” A new voice joined the group. Lana Penn, the donor of the Doctor Helen Gaston Endowed Chemistry Chair, joined their circle with Foster. She stood between Vaughn and Ms. Helen. “Good evening. I'm glad everyone could make it.”

“Lana, I was Ms. Helen before I was Doctor Gaston.” Ms. Helen squeezed the other chemist's forearm. “I don't need a special title to keep track of my accomplishments. The people who care about me—like you and the others you see here—are the only reminders I need.”

The simple words hit Vaughn in his heart. Benita gave her great-aunt's hand a gentle squeeze. What did she think about Ms. Helen's words? Did they give her any insight into how people felt about the town and their neighbors?

Foster gestured toward the tables. “We should take our seats. The university's president will make his speech soon.”

Vaughn glanced toward the front table where the president sat with several members of the board of trustees. “Hopefully, he won't be as long-winded as he was during Ken's retirement dinner.”

“Be nice, Vaughn.” Foster led the group to Ms. Helen's table. He held her chair.

Benita sat to the left of her great-aunt. Vaughn found himself sitting beside her. Lana sat on Ms. Helen's other side with Foster beside her. Darius sat on Vaughn's right with Peyton beside him. Conversation paused as other dinner guests greeted Ms. Helen and Lana, and offered Ms. Helen their congratulations.

The parade of well-wishers ended when the university president took the podium. As he spoke, servers quietly distributed small salads to each attendee. Fifteen minutes later, the president's speech mercifully came to an end.

Foster turned to Ms. Helen. “Would you say grace?”

Vaughn and the six other people at the table bowed their heads as Ms. Helen gave thanks for the food and the friendships, and asked for God's blessing on the university community.

“In addition to the classroom, Doctor Gaston also has had an impact on the Trinity Falls community.” Foster addressed his comment to Lana. “She was the driving force behind the Guiding Light Community Center.”

“The center turned forty years old in January.” Ms. Helen's smile was both pleased and proud.

Lana forked up more salad. “One of the things I enjoyed about TFU was the sense of a close-knit campus community as well as its connection to the town.”

“I agree.” Foster sipped his ice water. “I was proud to have three of our faculty members serve on the fund-raising committee for the center's fortieth birthday celebration, including Doctor Harris and Doctor Brooks.” He gestured from Peyton to Vaughn.

“It was an honor.” Peyton looked from Foster to Ms. Helen.

“Peyton and Darius provided great leadership to the fund-raising committee.” Vaughn felt Benita's eyes on him.

Darius refilled his glass with iced water from the pitcher on the table. “I was glad to help the center. Growing up, I spent a lot of hours there.”

“So did I.” Vaughn accepted the water pitcher from Darius. He filled his glass as well as Benita's. Benita then filled Ms. Helen's.

Foster started his salad. “Vaughn, how is your play coming?”

Vaughn swallowed a mouthful of salad. “Rehearsals are going well. I'm glad Benita's been able to help.”

“This isn't much of a vacation for you.” Lana sipped her water. “Between assisting with this event and helping Vaughn with his play, when are you finding time to relax?”

Benita glanced at Vaughn before responding. “These three months are more of a working vacation. I'm still managing my clients.”

“And she's helping to plan a friend's wedding.” Ms. Helen waved a fork toward Benita. “She's never been able to relax, even as a child.”

Vaughn could attest to that. Even in high school, one student group hadn't been enough. She'd joined several of them. However, whenever they were together, she would give him her total attention. Why was she so different in Los Angeles?

“I must get that from you.” Benita squeezed her great-aunt's arm. Her love for the older woman was in her voice.

Ms. Helen patted Benita's hand. “Doreen—the friend whose wedding Benita is helping to plan—is putting her house on the market.”

The announcement caught Vaughn's attention. He was looking for a house. “That must have been a hard decision. She's lived in that house for decades.”

“But she and Alonzo are starting a new life together.” Peyton finished her salad. “They're moving into Alonzo's house.”

“I'm going to ask her about it. I wonder what she's listing it for.” Vaughn considered the timing of Doreen's decision to be divine providence.

The servers returned to clear away the salad plates and distribute the main course. Vaughn drew his dinner plate to him. Tonight's menu consisted of orange chicken, wild rice, and green beans. Steam rose from his plate. The scent of the well-seasoned chicken reminded him that he'd skipped lunch.

Benita looked at him in surprise. “Are you house hunting?”

“It's a nice house.” Vaughn looked into Benita's eyes. “It'll probably sell quickly once she lists it.”

Her bright brown eyes dimmed as she lowered her gaze.
Yes, Benita, I'm staying in Trinity Falls and I want you to stay with me.

Foster sliced into his chicken. “Speaking of Doreen and Alonzo's wedding, I assume Quincy and Ramona are planning to attend?”

“They'll be here next Monday.” Darius scooped a forkful of rice. “They're staying at Harmony Cabins.”

Foster nodded as he chewed his food. “His contract with the University of Pennsylvania is up in June. I was hoping to lure him back to TFU.”

“I can understand the appeal of a larger university.” Lana sipped her iced water. “But Trinity Falls is a special place. And the university offers faculty a lot more flexibility than a larger institution would.”

“I left Trinity Falls.” Benita turned to Vaughn. “And both of Vaughn's brothers left Trinity Falls.”

He understood what she was doing. Benita was staging a public protest with her subtle digs. Vaughn remained calm and returned fire. “Ben and Zach are returning to Trinity Falls later this year.”

Benita blinked at him. “You didn't tell me that.”

“I just did.” Vaughn returned to his dinner.

“I'm from New York.” Peyton broke the short silence. “Moving to Trinity Falls is one of the best decisions I've ever made. Audra Lane, who moved here from Los Angeles, feels the same way.”

Darius caught Peyton's gaze. “I'm glad you made the decision.”

Envy pricked Vaughn as he watched the other couple exchange a loving look. He glanced at Benita from the corner of his eye. Audra was one of Benita's celebrity clients. Born and raised in Los Angeles, the songwriter said she'd moved to Trinity Falls because it felt more like home. How could he convince Benita that Trinity Falls was home for both of them?

CHAPTER 19

Early Saturday morning, Benita curled up on the love seat in Ms. Helen's foyer and sipped her chai tea. She contemplated her great-aunt as the older lady sat on a straight-back oak chair positioned before her front windows, providing Ms. Helen a comfortable spot from which to survey her neighborhood.

No matter how early Benita woke up, she found Ms. Helen awake and dressed before her. This morning, her great-aunt wore the fashionable cherry red cotton lounge suit Benita had bought her for Christmas.

“What's on your mind, Benita?” Ms. Helen's quiet question brought their companionable silence to an end.

“My vacation's halfway over.” She was stalling for time. “I'm driving back to L.A. June twenty-first, the Sunday after Doreen and Alonzo's wedding.”

“I still don't understand why you chose to drive all that way.” Ms. Helen sipped her tea.

“I wanted my car with me. But I appreciate your worrying about me and it was more convenient to pack it up. I worry about you, too.” That was a smooth transition to the conversation she had in mind.

“You want to talk about that old-age home again, don't you?” Apparently, Ms. Helen saw through her.

“It's not an old-age home, Aunt Helen.”

Her great-aunt shifted on her seat to face Benita. “One of the reasons I love living in Trinity Falls is that everyone counts. Everyone contributes.”

“I suppose you're right.” What was behind the abrupt change of subject?

“When Megan McCloud took a leap of faith and diversified her family's bookstore, she created new jobs for the community.”

“That's true.” Benita liked the new Books & Bakery even more than the old bookstore, but she'd never considered the impact the store's changes had on the community.

“When Ramona McCloud returned from New York and ran for mayor, she repaired the damage the previous mayor's mismanagement had caused the community. Now we're starting to thrive again.”

“I remember that.” It had taken a lot of courage and strength of character to stand up to the establishment and turn the town in a new direction.

“Darius Knight convinced Stan Crockett to enter an Alcoholics Anonymous program. Now Stan's a healthy, contributing member of the community. He even volunteered on the fund-raising committee for the community center.”

“That's wonderful.” What was her great-aunt's point?

“As you heard last night, I'm also a contributing member of this community.” Ms. Helen's voice cooled. “And I won't be driven from my home until I'm no longer able to contribute.”

Benita swallowed a sigh. “Aunt Helen, you live alone. There's no one here to go to for help if, God forbid, something happened to you.”

Ms. Helen cradled her mug of tea in her left hand and gestured toward her window with her right. “Haven't you noticed the parade of people who stop by every day?”

“I've noticed you have a few regular guests.”

“You're not very observant, are you?”

“What do you—”

“I call them my Watchers. They stop by every day.” Ms. Helen lifted her fingers to count off her team. “Megan and Ean stop by at the end of their morning run around six. Alonzo drops in around noon on his way to lunch at Books and Bakery. Doreen checks in after work around four. Darius has the last shift at six. The others—Vaughn, Peyton, and Jackson and Audra, Ramona and Quincy when they were here—aren't as predictable.”

“I hadn't realized they were checking on you.” Benita stared at the four fingers Ms. Helen held aloft, each representing the shifts her Watchers covered, a twelve-hour service.

“They are. I've asked them to stop, but they've ignored me.”

“I'm glad. But Aunt Helen, suppose they forget or get out of the habit of checking on you? Doreen is moving. Will she still stop by at four?”

Ms. Helen smiled. “You don't know Doreen.”

“But wouldn't you feel more comfortable living in a residence in which there are nurses to check on you regularly and who are there if you need medical attention?”

“No, I wouldn't.” Ms. Helen stood. “I'd rather be here, in my own home.”

Benita watched her great-aunt walk into the kitchen. Was she wrong to push so hard for her great-aunt to move into a senior residence? She might as well ask herself whether she was wrong to love the elderly lady.

But Ms. Helen had inherited more than her fair share of the stubborn gene for which their family was well known. It was already May second. Benita was running out of time. How was she going to convince Ms. Helen that she was right about her great-aunt moving into a senior residence?

 

 

The peaceful goodwill Doreen always felt after church services was fading fast this afternoon. She slid another sideways look toward Alonzo as he sat beside her on his living room sofa. “Thank you for helping me move my belongings into your house.”

“
Our
house,” he corrected. “Of course I'm going to help my fiancée move in with me. What kind of man would I be if I didn't?”

“I'm not questioning the kind of man you are.” Doreen shifted on the sofa to face him. “I just wanted to thank you. I don't want you to think I'm taking you for granted.”

“Thanks aren't necessary.”

“I get that.”
Perhaps someone should have gone to church with me this morning. It might have helped to prevent the weird mood he was in.
“You seem on edge. Is everything all right?”

Alonzo still avoided eye contact as he stood and crossed the room. “I'm fine. Just tired.”

“You've been tired a lot lately. Should I take you to the doctor?”
Or is your fatigue a convenient excuse to keep you from telling me what's on your mind?

“I'll be fine.” Alonzo dragged a hand over his still-dark hair.

“All right.” Doreen rose to her feet as well. She studied Alonzo's broad shoulders. Even from across the room, she could tell they were stiff under his brick red jersey. “The realtor said my house would show better with the furniture in it. But we should decide now what pieces of mine we'll keep and what we'll donate to charity.”

Alonzo turned back to face the room—not her. “Whatever you want to do is fine.”

Doreen scanned the living room. Alonzo's modest furnishings were a strong contrast to her warm and welcoming decor. His dark brown recliner, sofa, and area rug were practical but lacked the warmth of her pink and white fun furniture patterns. It would be so easy to make the executive decision to pack up his belongings and deliver them to a nonprofit organization. But her moving in and making unilateral decisions wasn't the way she'd envisioned starting their life together.

Doreen gestured toward the furniture surrounding them. “So I can just replace everything in here, including that oversized flat-screen TV, with my stuff?”

“That's fine.” Alonzo's tone was dismissive.

Doreen's patience slipped another notch. “Is that really the sum total of the effort you're going to put into building a home together? ‘Whatever you want to do is fine'?”

She had his attention now. “They're just things, Doreen. I'm not emotionally attached to them.”

“I haven't sensed a great deal of emotion from you at all these past few weeks.” Doreen crossed her arms as she regarded her soon-to-be husband. “This is just another task to you, another day to you.”

Alonzo's coffee-colored eyes grew wary. “What should it be?”

“I'm giving up my house in preparation of sharing my life with you.” She jerked her chin toward his staircase. “You helped move my suitcases into your bedroom as though you were welcoming a roommate.”

Alonzo pulled his long fingers through his thick hair again. “What should I have done?”

What should it be? What should I have done?
Wasn't this day special to him in any way at all?

Doreen spread her arms. “I wasn't expecting Harry Belafonte to serenade us. But I think I deserve to be treated like something more than a check mark on your to-do list.”

“I don't mean to treat you that way.” Alonzo's expression was stricken. “Do you want me to take you to lunch?”

“We've been together for ten months. We're about to get married. I shouldn't have to tell you what to do to make this day special.” Doreen blamed him for her ridiculous behavior.

“I don't know what you want from me, Doreen.”

“I just want you to talk to me, Alonzo. Tell me what's bothering you.”

“Nothing.” The look in his eyes told her he was lying.

Doreen stepped back. The back of her calves came into contact with his sofa. The plump cushions were soft against her slacks. She held Alonzo's gaze despite the pain in her heart. It was less than seven weeks before their wedding and they'd never been farther apart. What was she supposed to do?

“Are you sure there's nothing wrong? There's nothing you need to discuss with me?” Fear kept her from asking the direct question:
Do you still want to marry me?

“I'm sure.”

“All right.” Doreen walked past him toward his staircase.

“Do you want me to take you to lunch?” Alonzo's ridiculous question followed her as she mounted his stairs.

“No, thank you. I'm just going to unpack.” Doreen never paused.

She kept her chin up as she climbed to the top floor. At the landing, she turned right to enter the master bedroom. Doreen closed the door behind her. She leaned against the solid wood and let the tears flow. Her engagement was a disaster. This whole thing—moving in together, getting married—was beginning to feel like a mistake. But she couldn't fix it alone and Alonzo wouldn't even try.

What should she do?