you a belated birthday party?” Judith asked April, putting her favorite sandwich in front of her.
Judith was trying everything she could to cheer April up, but it wasn’t Judith’s strong suit, and she was failing. April had arrived distraught and stressed, and Judith hoped the sandwich and birthday party idea might make her feel better.
April attempted to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. She thanked Judith for remembering how much she liked peanut butter sandwiches with raspberry preserves, sliced bananas, and a few potato chips on top of the bananas.
She knew that Judith probably didn’t have any of these ingredients and had shopped for them just for her and she sincerely appreciated the effort. Still, April felt as if a hundred-pound weight was pinning her underwater, and she had to keep struggling to breathe. She ate half the sandwich and then said she was too tired to eat more.
Judith wrapped the other half of the sandwich. She put it in the refrigerator just in case April got hungry in the night and then took her upstairs to the guest bedroom and tucked her in, leaving a night light on since she knew April didn’t like to sleep in totally dark rooms.
Judith did all of this from the place inside of her that took care of things, keeping at bay the part of her that wanted to grab Ron around the neck and shake him.
There are two sides to every story, she kept saying to herself, but seeing her friend in such distress made what the Ruby Sisters called “the warrior queen” come alive. Righting wrongs was her thing.
Sometimes it was just numbers that added up wrong or ideas that someone didn’t think through correctly, but when people did something for the wrong reasons, it made her furious, and she wanted to challenge them and make it right no matter what it took.
Her warrior queen quality made her great at her job but sometimes terrible at friendships, which is why she treasured her friendship with the Ruby Sisters. Throughout school, no matter what, they stuck together and loved her even when she embarrassed them or called them out. And she was grateful it worked both ways. They weren’t afraid to tell her when she was wrong, too. Back then, they had always worked it out together. She hoped it would be like that again.
Sitting in the dark at her desk after putting April to bed, she had to ask herself if it was true that they had stuck together. Because if they had, would April be in such a mess, or Bree, Cindy, and Marsha looking for past mysteries? And maybe that was why she was so angry? Perhaps she was mad at herself for not finding Bree and Paul, for not going to see Marsha when she moved away.
Yes, she had kept in touch with April, but had she? How had she not noticed that April never came to visit? She had visited April and Ron in Silver Lake after their first child was born. But it was so obvious that April and Ron liked to be alone that she felt like an intruder.
Besides, her work only allowed her to leave for a day or two at a time. She ran a tight ship, and that took constant supervision. The independent accountants and bookkeepers that she hired appreciated her clarity and exactness. They always knew what she wanted and needed, and in return, she took great care of them.
But they weren’t her friends. She had only four friends, and she had let at least three of them down by not being more diligent. Perhaps she had even let Cindy down and didn’t notice it. She’d deal with that later.
The following day, looking at April sitting on the couch looking miserable, she tried again. “Okay, not a birthday party right now. Maybe when everyone gets here? We could have a party for all our birthdays and all the ones we missed together these past thirty years.”
April smiled at Judith, thinking how the years had not softened her spirit and how much she appreciated that Judith had opened her home to give her time to try to understand what had happened to her relationship with Ron.
Perhaps what happened was a one-time thing, and she should go home.
As if she heard her thoughts, Judith said, “Let’s go out to breakfast, and then I’ll take you over to Cindy’s art gallery and show you how it works so you can help out. But we need to stop at the store on the way to pick up cat food.”
“Cat food?”
“Yep. Cindy’s gallery cat. Not an alley cat, gallery cat. Everyone laughs when she says that. Cindy swears people come in to see the cat and then notice the art.”
It delighted Judith to see April’s face light up. Maybe the cat was the way to April’s heart. She remembered April talking about her hippy parents and the multitude of cats that came in and out of their house. And all the neighbors that had the same thing at their house. April had loved all the hustle and bustle of cats and people.
At the time, none of them had known how devastating outdoor cats were to their beloved bird population. Once April’s parents and friends realized what was happening to the birds, they kept the cats indoors.
But the people kept coming. There was always something going on at April’s childhood home. On one of their calls, April had confided to Judith that she had always wanted to get cats for her and the kids, but Ron had said he was allergic, so they hadn’t.
For a moment, April wondered how her life had gotten so small when she had loved the crazy outgoing life of her childhood. Her parents were long gone, and maybe that’s why she had let that life go, too. And now, she might be ready to get it back, starting with Cindy’s gallery cat.
“What’s its name?”
“Mittens,” Judith answered. “Where do you want to go to breakfast?”
”Is the Waffle House still open?”
“Of course it is! Can you be ready in thirty minutes? I have a few emails to send before we go.”
Thirty minutes later, April freshly showered, her wet hair springing into curls around her face, they headed out the door.
Judith pointed to April’s hair. “Still letting it do its own thing?”
April paused for a moment before answering. “I am. I think it may be the only thing I let stay itself.”
Judith reached down and hugged April and laughed. “Well, young lady, it’s about time that stops!”
April nodded, feeling the weight of her decision, and at the same time, for the first time in a long time, feeling a little like the bird her parents used to call her.
“Our little wren,” they would croon as they enveloped her in hugs. It had been years since she heard their voices in her head calling her that. Perhaps it had been too painful to remember.
But now that she was in Spring Falls, it was as if a door had opened into her past. Was she ready to face it all? she asked herself and realized she would have to be, because the future was already set in motion.