Annabelle

Perfect Families

Life is all about being steadfast enough to make a plan and being flexible enough to break it. And that is good because Annabelle the planner had figured out perfectly how she was going to tell her parents and grandparents about the dissolution of her marriage. And Annabelle the planner knew that the blow would be softened a few weeks later by the reunion with Holden, aka, the man of their dreams. It would be horrible and everyone would be talking about it, but they would reason that I was young and scared and now I was just doing what I should have all along. And then one of the women in the neighborhood would be having an affair with her gardener Desperate Housewives–style, and everyone would forget about me.

What Annabelle the planner hadn’t counted on was D-daddy dying in his sleep. And I hadn’t planned on Rob’s absurd confession of love. And I hadn’t planned on dropping the Ben-affair bomb on Lovey via a fight with Rob in her assisted living apartment. And, most of all, though I had forgiven her outwardly, I hadn’t planned on still being so inwardly angry with Lovey. I couldn’t stand feeling that way toward her when my entire life she had been my main confidant. But wounds take time to heal.

And that wound that I was so sure had already scabbed over, the devastation of finding out that my marriage wasn’t what I thought it was, had opened again and was oozing all over the place. The hardest part was realizing that I was the only person surprised by the dissolution of what I thought would be my forever.

When Mom had asked where Ben was right after we found out about D-daddy, I had mumbled something about him having to work.

She had put her arm around me and said, “So it’s over, huh?”

I had been so positive that he was the right decision, that we were going to be a family, that our personalities complemented each other so wonderfully. And all my dad could say was, “Oh, honey. We never, ever trusted him.”

The thought of moving on after realizing that I had been so wrong paralyzed me with fear. I thought I knew best. I thought I was mature and reasoned when it came to love. But I had been neither.

Sitting in the third row of Saint Andrew’s Church that afternoon, I knew I needed a higher power to help me sort through the avalanche of my life. My handkerchief to my eyes, I waited patiently, thankful that Mom and Lovey had let me forgo the procession, knowing a divorce, a miscarriage and a death in such short order weren’t going to equip me for walking stoically behind a casket. I tried to push away the thought that every person in that jam-packed church was whispering about where my husband was.

Well, at least the ones who weren’t whispering about Lovey’s best friend Katie Jo parading in with her young boyfriend.

Cameron, with absolutely no announcement, as usual, slid into the pew beside me and linked her arm through mine. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

I could feel the tears spilling over as I nodded. “Thanks.”

“I’m most sorry that I ever introduced you to Ben. I was wrong.”

I shook my head. “You weren’t wrong. If I hadn’t tried to steal him from you, all of this would have been happening to you.”

I winked, and we both stifled a laugh.

Holden, making like he was genuflecting by my pew, whispered, “I’m so sorry, Ann.” He squeezed my hand.

I wiped my eyes, shook my head and said, smiling through my tears, “Thanks, Holden.”

He looked at me sadly, still holding my hand. “You coming home tonight?”

I nodded, swallowing hard, wondering if a life with Holden could ever feel like home.

Sitting there in the pew, I longed for a man like D-daddy. A man who was kind and generous, humble and forgiving, faithful and true. A man who knew his values and stuck by them. A man who would give me room to grow to be who I was while trusting me with the truth even when it was hard. That familiar aggravation in the pit of my stomach pinched me again, as I wondered how Lovey could do something so terrible to someone so undeniably good.

Then the lonely echo of the organ turned to triumphant jubilation. I tried to feel happy that D-daddy was in a better place, free from pain and sorrow and suffering. But it’s so very difficult to feel happy when you are so sad that you won’t be seeing him on earth ever again. My uncles and cousins were carrying the box containing what was once my D-daddy down the aisle with Lovey and my mom and aunts following close behind.

I don’t know if it was the swell of the organ or the freshness of the suits or the surge of pride at seeing so many people I loved all clumped together like that. But the aggravation and irritation and annoyance were suddenly replaced by the most ecstatic happiness. As I watched little Lovey make her way with so much grace, I realized that there were no perfect people, not even her. But there are perfect families. And in our crazy, mixed-up way, we just might be one of them.

I glanced toward the altar to see Rob’s gaze on me—he had agreed to Lovey’s proposal that he assist with the service—but he quickly looked away when my eye caught his. Even in this sad circumstance, his eyes meeting mine made my stomach flip, those bubbles of anticipation filling me up. But that summertime feeling was quickly replaced with dread. Because I had done the butterflies thing. And it had gotten me to this, one of the saddest days of my entire life. No white knight, no happily ever after. Ben, Lovey. The people I had thought infallible had failed me.

Cameron whispered, “I’m aware this is inappropriate, but you know that he’s in love with you, right?”

“Holden?”

“No. Rob.” She shrugged. “Not that you should take love advice from me of all people, but you might want to look into that.”

I shook my head, feeling my eyes burning again. “I’m going back to Holden.”

Cameron smirked. “I’m not going to argue with you, but you know how I feel about it.”

I nodded. “It’s just less . . . complicated.”

I looked up, caught Rob’s eye again and wiped mine.

Cameron looked at me like I was crazy. “So you don’t even want to explore that?”

I shook my head.

It didn’t matter that Rob had been the one that I had laughed and joked with, grown up with. It didn’t matter that he had helped me navigate these intersecting roads of heartbreak just by being there for me, by greeting me every morning with a smile and a laugh and something fun to do. Because now it was time to think with my head.

I glanced at Rob again, and he turned quickly to defer from my gaze. Then I turned back to look at Holden. He winked at me. He had been there for me when I needed him the very most, I reminded myself. And he had fought for me all this time. The kid deserved a win.

After the ceremony, I went to Lovey and D-daddy’s house for what I figured would be one of the last times. While a throng of visitors crowded into the living room, dining room and den, I made my way down the hall, opened the linen closet door, and soothed my tear-stained face with one of Lovey’s sunshine pillowcases. I took a few more steps into the empty master bedroom. No Lovey. No D-daddy. No big bed to pile up in and hear bedtime stories. No boxes full of Lovey’s jewelry to play dress-up in. No drawers full of neat stacks of D-daddy’s handkerchiefs. Just emptiness. It was the exact same feeling that I had.

I felt a hand on my back, where I was leaning on the doorjamb. I turned to see Lovey.

“It looks right empty now, doesn’t it?”

I nodded. “Feels it too.”

She was strong again, I noticed. Composed and statuesque like always. She had lost the love of her life, and here she was consoling me. “You know, sweetheart. It’s going to be hard, but it’s going to be okay.”

I wiped my eyes with the pillowcase again, its softness taking me back to my childhood. “I know. But it’s so hard disappointing everyone when they had these high expectations for me.”

She laughed, that great Lovey laugh that I will always hear in my ears. “Yeah. But, on the bright side, that first fall is the hardest. Once everyone realizes you aren’t perfect, it’s a good deal nicer to go on with the rest of your life.”

I smiled, assuming that she had known all about that when she left Ernest Wake for D-daddy. I sighed deeply. “You got awfully lucky, Lovey. Because I followed my heart and now I’m miserable.” I stood up a little straighter like she would do. “Now it’s time to follow my head.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Holden?”

I nodded and shrugged. “Yeah. It just works, you know? He was even going to raise Ben’s baby as his own. When do you ever find someone who would do that for you?” She looked at me skeptically, and I paused. I wanted to say like grandmother, like granddaughter, but I refrained. “And I mean, I love him.” I stood up straighter. “I do.” Then I sighed. “I’ve thought it through. It makes sense. My head says it’s a good choice.”

Lovey shook her head. “I can’t make that decision for you. But I have a secret to tell you, sweetheart. It isn’t about your heart or your head.”

“No?”

“No. It’s about both.” She paused. “Look, honey. You’ve always followed your intuition and your heart. And maybe you took a couple of wrong turns there, but it doesn’t mean that you can’t trust it now.”

“I really don’t know that I can.” I leaned against the wall. “Maybe I was just kidding myself this entire time to think I had these great instincts.”

“Well,” she said. “If you were going to trust it one more time, what do you think your intuition would tell you to do?”

That’s when I heard, “Can I get you ladies anything?”

Lovey smiled at me broadly and said, “That couldn’t have been better if I’d planned it myself.” She took Rob’s arm and said, “I’d better get back out there.”

Then she turned, winked at me, pointed at her head and then her heart.

I laughed. I turned back to that room, blew it a kiss and said, “Good-bye, D-daddy. There really was only one man like you.” Then I smiled weakly and said, “But if you’re able to send me another, that’d be awfully nice.”

I shivered thinking about how hurt D-daddy must have been when he found out that Mom wasn’t his child. Then I turned back to the jam-packed living room.

After the funeral and reception and visitors for miles, Lovey pulled me aside and said, “Do you think you could get Rob settled in here tonight? The guest bedroom has clean sheets.”

“What do you mean here? Why isn’t he just going back to Salisbury?”

I heard his deep voice from behind me. “That’s exactly what I said. I promise it will be fine. It’s only two hours.”

“It is getting dark,” Lovey protested. “I won’t hear of it, so don’t bring it up again.”

She kissed Rob’s cheek and said, “Thank you for everything you did to make this day tolerable.”

Then she kissed me and whispered in my ear, “That combination of heart and head isn’t always easy to find . . .”

I smirked at her. “Good night, Lovey. I love you.”

“It was a lovely service,” I said to Rob as I extracted towels and washcloths out of the linen closet and handed them to him.

“Yeah.”

“Look, Rob, I said I was sorry, okay? You don’t have to freeze me out.”

He smiled. “I’m not freezing you out, Ann. I was just agreeing with you.”

“Oh.” I could feel my chin starting to quiver, the busyness of the day seeping out and the sadness pouring in. I didn’t want to cry, and I didn’t want Rob to comfort me, but the man was practically comfort in a bottle. It was like my head couldn’t help but want to be on his chest, and I couldn’t possibly pull away from those strong arms wrapped around me.

He kissed the top of my head and said, “I know it doesn’t help right now, but he’s in a better place. He has a brand-new body and he’s dining with his savior tonight. So be sad for you, but be so happy for him.”

I nodded and pulled away, wiping my eyes. I made my way toward the kitchen and, though it looked different, that kitchen table where I had spent so many fun nights with Lovey and D-daddy, so many of my fondest moments with my family, was still there. I opened the freezer, handed Rob a Klondike bar and extracted a box of Sugar Wafers.

I sat down and he sat down beside me, wordlessly, waiting for my instructions. I rolled the foil on my Klondike bar down, and he did the same. Then I touched my hard chocolate shell to his and said, “To D-daddy and his brand-new body.”

Rob smiled. “To D-daddy.”

While we ate I told Rob every single memory I ever had with my grandfather, the way he’d always stop and get me Luden’s cough drops because candy wasn’t allowed at school and how he used to drive me around the yard on the riding lawn mower and how proud he had been at my induction into Phi Beta Kappa.

“You see,” Rob said. “He got to be there for all of that. He got to see you grow up and be so amazing and happy.” He looked down at his Klondike bar. “And beautiful.”

I raised my eyebrow, opened the box of Sugar Wafers, removed one tan pack and handed him a row.

“Frozen?”

“Yup. Frozen. It’s the only way, really.”

He crunched, little pieces of wafer crumbling onto the table. “This is truly excellent. I mean, really, really good. It’s a little like ice cream but with a texture to it.”

“Right,” I said. “D-daddy didn’t mess around.”

Even though I smiled, I could feel the tears coming down my cheeks again.

Rob reached over and took my hand. “I’m so sorry.”

I shook my head. “No. It’s good. See, I thought that I would always remember him the way he’s been the past couple of years. That I’d only think of him in the chair or the bed or the wheelchair. That him barely speaking to me and the dimness in his face would be all I would think about.” I wiped my tears away and said, “But that’s not it. I remember all the really good times too.”

He smiled. “I’m so glad, Annie. You deserve all those good memories.”

I scooted my chair back, resolving that I would leave the memory of this night, the butterflies in my stomach and the feeling that here was a man, a good man, who got me. It was easy and fun but also felt safe and right. But it was more than that. There was that inexplicable element, that sixth sense that he saw me in a real way that no one else did, and that I did the same for him. But I just didn’t know anymore. I had been so, so wrong. How could I ever trust myself to be right again?

“Okay, then. I’d better get going,” I said. I could sink into Holden’s memory foam mattress and pull up the thick, fluffy down comforter. Sleep sounded so appealing. Maybe more appealing than Holden.

“You don’t have to, you know.”

I smiled weakly. “If you want to set the alarm—”

“I love you, Annabelle.”

I peered at him. “What?”

“I know what you said,” he replied. “But I know that you’re in love with me too. I’ve known it since that first day I met you by the lemonade bowl. You make me feel like I can do and be anything. You make me feel challenged and alive and free and happy, and I know I make you feel the same way. We should be together.” Then he put up his finger and, much to my surprise, began rustling around in his pants pocket, producing a diamond so bright it flickered in the dim light of the near-empty kitchen. He got down on his knee.

“Please marry me.”

I pulled him up. “You can’t be serious. Marry you? Rob, we hardly know each other.”

He scoffed. “Hardly know each other? Hardly know each other?”

It was the first time I had ever heard him raise his voice. He turned to leave the room, and, against all rational, reasonable thought, I found the panic rising inside me. I grabbed his hand. “Well, don’t just walk away,” I whispered.

He turned, our hands still locked together, his nose mere inches from mine.

“Don’t know you,” he repeated again, the choke in his voice rising to the surface, the passion with which he regarded everything in his life flowing out and flooding me all the way into my socks. “I know all of you. I know the way you get quiet whenever anyone talks about having a baby because you’re so afraid that you never will. I know that the tears gather in your eyes when you thank the Lord aloud in morning prayer. I know that you pretend to love your dad the best, but that, in reality, it is your mother’s tenacity that you revere. And I know,” he said, taking my other hand in his, drawing even closer to me, “that you act like you always have to have a man in your life, when, in reality, you are always the one calling the shots.”

I could feel the slightest tremor in my body, the minor shake that the patient fears most when the words “Parkinson’s disease” are mentioned. But I had lost too much this year. Everything that I thought I knew had been taken from me in one way or another. My husband, my baby, my image of Lovey, my D-daddy. For one year, it was enough.

I looked into his eyes quickly, seeing the fervor in them, the conviction.

“You’re a priest, Rob. Get serious. You can’t marry a divorced woman. Check it out. Says so right there in the Bible.”

I turned to walk away and he grabbed my arm. “Why would you do this, Annabelle? You know we should be together.”

“What would make you think that this was an appropriate time to ask me to marry you? My D-daddy died, and I’m in the middle of a divorce.”

He pointed to the sky. “It was my thing today.” He shrugged. “I thought asking you on a date seemed a little more reasonable, but I don’t make the rules.”

I sighed, wanting not to love that about him. I wanted to tell him about how I had chosen with my heart and it didn’t work out. I wanted to tell him that I was choosing with my head this time. Because I was afraid of loving someone truly again, of discovering that another man that took my breath away was nothing like he seemed. But all I could manage was, “Rob, I can’t. I have to go.”

I turned to walk out the door, and I could feel the tears, so different from those of gratitude in church, spilling over onto my hot cheeks. I had promised Holden. He had been so sweet and so patient. I had told him that leaving Ben had been harder than I expected and that I needed time to heal before I came to live with him. I needed some space. If I was being honest with myself, it was less about needing space and more about realizing what a terrible person I was. I had used Holden. I knew that he would save me from the mess I had gotten myself into. And now that the baby was gone, I didn’t need him anymore. And, in all the times we had talked over the past three months, I hadn’t had the heart to tell Holden about the baby. He was just so excited.

In the car, a trip toward Holden’s house began to feel like a march to the executioner’s block. But I had decided. He loved me. Our life would be easy and comfortable and predictable and that was what I needed, I reminded myself.

I didn’t even know what I would say when I got there. Holden was so far down the road, sending me crime statistics and shots of houses. It wasn’t what I had planned, but, when he whisked me through the door and said, “Hey, pretty girl,” I replied, “I lost the baby.”

“Oh, Ann,” he said. “I’m so sorry.” He hugged me. Then he paused.

There was a long silence, with both of us just standing there in the sunroom. It lingered between us like the last appetizer on a plate between polite diners. Finally, he broke it, saying, “So now what?”

I sighed. I wasn’t going to call it off again. I wouldn’t break his heart a second time. No doubt about it, that would be cruel. So I just said, “Well, I guess you don’t have to find a new house now.”

I started to say something else, but, before I could, he said, “Annabelle, listen. I love you. And I am always there for you no matter what. You have been my best friend for years, and, if this is what you want, I’ll make good on it. I’ll do it.” Then he paused. “But I met someone.”

I could feel the tension melting away, like an ice cream sandwich in the sun. He met someone. I looked up to heaven and said, inwardly, Thank you.

“Oh,” I said, trying to hide my surprise.

“It was before the baby thing, and, obviously, under those circumstances, you needed me. What we had was more important to me than a couple of weeks with someone else. And I love you, Annabelle. I swear, I really do. But it’s . . .”

“It’s different,” I filled in for him. “It’s a different kind of love, the kind of love that people wait for, the kind of love that you dream about all your life.”

I knew all about that love. I sat down on the sofa.

He sat down beside me and looked at me earnestly. “I thought that’s what we had, Annabelle. I swear I did. And, I’ll say it again. If you want to do this, I’m in. I know we’ll have a nice life together.”

I sat up and turned to face him. “Holden, you deserve more than a nice life. You deserve for your heart to pound. You deserve to be with someone who makes you better, who lifts you up, who makes you feel like you can do anything. You deserve to be with a woman who looks at you and really sees you, who understands you without a single word.”

“You won’t believe this,” he said, hiding a smile. “I think she might be the one.”

In spite of myself I laughed quietly through my tears. Holden had always waxed poetic about the mathematical impossibility of there being only one right person for every other one. And, seeing someone with such a good heart be so happy made me a little bit happy.

I felt a pang of nostalgia thinking of those perfect pink peonies that were always waiting for me on his nightstand. He definitely wasn’t my one. But he was someone else’s.

And, though I didn’t want to, I thought of Rob.

Holden had wanted me to stay the night, cuddle up and watch one last movie for old times’ sake. But, instead, I found myself kissing Lovey’s exhausted forehead, turning off her lamp and slipping into the guest bed at her assisted living apartment. I marveled at her strength, at her ability to get back in that bed, in that room, where she had found him only a few days earlier.

I lay in bed for hours that night thinking. I ached for the baby I had lost, for the love that had slipped through my fingers, for the sadness of all of the losses combined together.

And then I thought of Rob.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, tied the silk robe draped over the back of the chair around my waist, and marched myself out the door, fuzzy slippers and all.

I don’t think I even thought of how ridiculous I must look, walking up Lovey and D-daddy’s old driveway in slippers meant for a child, complete with bunnies, and a gown meant for a gentleman’s club. But it was one of those rare moments in life where common sense abdicates the throne, losing a near-bloodless battle to pure, unadulterated lack of self-control.

I marched myself right through the front door, slammed it and bounded down the hall to the guest room, Rob’s room for the night, flipping on the lights. He bolted up, stunned from the intrusion, rubbing his eyes and squinting at me. I couldn’t help but lose my train of thought. I’d never imagined the parish priest I so often shared my cupcake with to have such a toned upper body.

I pointed to the front door and said, “I don’t care how much you trust people, I will not, under any circumstances, sleep with my doors unlocked.”

He rubbed his eyes again, as if trying to discern if this was the real me or the figment-of-his-imagination me. Those dimples sprang up, and he said, “Okay.”

“And if you’re going to wake up every fifteen minutes with a message from the Holy Spirit that it’s time to move parishes, I absolutely insist on hiring movers to box up all our stuff because you know how much I hate to pack.”

“Our stuff?”

I sat down on the edge of his bed, my voice finally softening and said, “I know that even though you pretend to be excited when she brings them, you don’t like Mrs. Taylor’s famous brownies one bit. I know that you purposely give me jobs and send me on errands that you know will make me recognize a skill within me that you see but I don’t. I know that you love trashy, prime-time TV even though you’d never admit you watch it.” He was half sitting, propped on his elbows now, so I leaned to take both of his cheeks in my hands. “And I know that you are the most selfless, loving, wonderful man that I have ever met.”

He sat up now, wrapped his arms around me and enveloped me in a kiss. I closed my eyes and melted into the feel of his body pressed into mine, wanting to do things that one should never think about with a man of God—until he was her husband, that is.

“And you’re right,” I whispered, “I do love you.”

He kissed me again. “I’ve waited a very long time to hear that.”

“This is probably very inappropriate,” I said. “Maybe you should get up.”

He shook his head. “Can’t.”

He pointed to his sheet and raised his eyebrows.

“And now I know you sleep naked.” I winked at him. “Can’t wait for that on the honeymoon.”

“The honeymoon . . . ,” he whined.

I looked at him and crossed my arms, smiling. “I think we’re going to have quite the wedding night.”

“When is that again?”

I looked down at the space on my arm where a watch should be and said, “Well, the last time I rushed into something so serious, it didn’t end well for me.” I sat back down and looked into his kind face. And I knew that he would understand. “I want to do it right this time. I want to take the time to learn how to be an amazing wife, the kind of woman you deserve. I want to go to premarital counseling and know that we’re on the same page with everything.”

He pushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear and kissed me. Then he rested his forehead on mine and said, “I love that about you, Ann. And I want you to know that you don’t have to do anything other than just be who you are. And I can promise you, truly, from the depths of my soul, that I will love you with a vengeance and be faithful to you until the day I die.”

Despite what I had been through, despite the disgrace and shame and devastation and indignity of the past year, I knew that I could trust that bridge between my heart and my head. I knew Rob like I hadn’t known many people in my life, and I trusted him with every fiber of my being. I knew I could believe him when he made me a promise because he was as faithful a man as I had ever known in every facet of his life.

“Well then, let’s just take it slow and see how it goes.”

He kissed me again, pulling me down onto him. “I said slow, Rob.”

He leaned forward and put his head between his knees, slapping his hands on the mattress. Then he looked up. “Help me, Jesus.”

“You get dressed and then I’ll let you make me a little ice cream.” I paused. “Maybe over one of Mrs. Taylor’s brownies you brought? She did sort of get us together after all . . .”

“Annabelle, wait—”

“I already said, no, Rob.”

“No . . .” He looked nervous. “It’s just that I have a secret that I feel like I have to tell you before you can truly make this decision. I want you to have all the information . . .”

I could feel my heart drop through the floor into the furnished basement. “I can’t handle any more secrets, Rob.”

“Yeah, this one’s a doozy.” I saw the flash in his eyes. “Mrs. Taylor,” he whispered, “is my grandmother.”

I burst out laughing. “No, she’s not. You’re so not funny.”

He nodded gravely. “She is.”

“She is not. You call her Mrs. Taylor, for heaven’s sake.”

“It’s because she makes me call her that.” He burst out laughing, and I joined him.

Perfect families, I thought again.

While I was waiting for Rob to dress, eating ice cream straight from the carton, I knew that I couldn’t wait to tell Lovey that—though it wouldn’t be for some time—someone in her family was finally marrying an Episcopal priest.