Autumn Love

The two friends strolled the sun-lit paths in the small pocket park beside the city library. As they approached the fountain in the center, Vera pulled a penny from the pocket of her hip-length cotton vest. "Here." Holding the coin between index finger and thumb, she offered it to her several-years-older companion, Siobhan.

"What's this for?" Siobhan made no move to take it. "My thoughts aren't worth a penny. I'll give them to you."

"I don't want your thoughts. I want you to toss the penny in the fountain and make a wish."

Siobhan glanced toward the swirling water beyond the three-foot high brick wall. "Did somebody ship the Tivoli fountain to East Tennessee when I wasn't looking?"

"Silly. The Tivoli fountain doesn't have a monopoly on wishes. Do it. You know what to wish."

"Vera. A wish is not going to make Hal email or call and beg me for a date. I know that. You know that." A gust of wind loosened Siobhan's long, diaphanous scarf, tangling it in her blonde locks lightly streaked with silver gray. She pulled it back around her neck.

Vera crossed her arms. "Do it."

"All right, already." Siobhan grabbed the penny, drew her arm back, and threw it. The round, coppery coin disappeared under the water streaming from the clusters of metal blossoms sprouting from the central pipe. "There. Satisfied?"

"Partly." Vera touched Siobhan's arm. "Let's get some lunch."

Later at home. Siobhan logged into her Gmail account. She found, as usual, only numerous spam emails and a note from her brother. Arizona was hot. The state's electrical grid might go down.

News flash, bro. Arizona is always hot in summer. You knew that when you moved there.

She sighed as she clicked the log out button. No message from Hal, of course. Who am I kidding. He's not ever going to call, or send me a message. He only answered my couple of emails to be polite and kind.

Her cell phone rang. Vera. She flicked a finger on the green phone symbol. "Vera. Did you find anything at the thrift shop?"

"Just checking on you. Have you sent Hal a message?"

"Not going to. So you didn't really expect the penny to make him contact me?"

"Si. You've told me you love him. You need to give yourself a chance to find out if he might feel the same way."

"Not." She heard the catch in her voice. "I'd rather be alone the rest of my life than try and manipulate a man to be with me."

"You still think you don't deserve love because you didn't lo.... You do deserve love, from a man who truly loves you. You were loyal and faithful. You deserve some happiness, Si."

"Loyal and faithful. Not entirely by choice. God caused circumstances to work out that way. And anyway, just thinking about it is as bad. The Bible says so."

Vera's silence spoke volumes. "Just for the record, that admonition is directed to men." After a second or two, she voiced what she had hesitated to say. "And what about 'him'? You knew he was actually unfaithful. But when he fell and the concussion nearly killed him, you nursed him through the brain damage until it did kill him. Don't you think that's enough undeserved punishment for 'thinking'?"

Vera hadn't liked Siobhan's husband the first time she met him. Even before she deduced that he was an alcoholic. Functioning, but an alcoholic. He'd always hit on her at neighborhood get-togethers and while on his benders even though she was several years younger and adored her husband.

"Even if. Doesn't make it right for me to think about it."

"But thinking about it is also as forgivable as the actual deed. You know that. It's you who refuse to forgive yourself."

She moved a pen to the other side of her computer, aligned it with the others. Sighed again. "But-"

"No buts. How will he ever know you-have feelings for him-if you don't give him a hint somehow, someway!"

"He'd think I'm some sort of out-of-her-time groupie! In his position I bet women throw themselves at him all the time. I can't, I won't be one of them."

After a little more prodding from her friend, Siobhan agreed to at least think, again, about contacting the former county sheriff's deputy she'd known for years. But only recently had she fallen head over heels in love with him when he spoke to a group she was involved with. The man was now an influential member of a regulatory agency in the capital, but often back home.

She had sent him a couple of emails about current matters he'd touched on in his talk that interested her. His replies were friendly, nice, but mostly impersonal. She didn't know how to make the contact more personal. After so many years of marriage, she seemed to have forgotten how to flirt, even a little, with men.

Maybe the temptation to and 'almost' cheat scared me too much to want to remember. I knew even then that 'he' probably had cheated. Guess I hid that as well as other things from myself for a lot of years, afraid to rock the boat because of fear. The paralyzing fear that he could take my baby if I left him. I knew I couldn't fight him. Alone. Nowhere to go, any possible help hundreds of miles away. And later, guilt.

Even though she had almost promised Vera, Siobhan still procrastinated to contact the man who was constantly in her thoughts. Preparing to meet Vera for their regular lunch a week later, she considered begging off, a headache, didn't sleep well the night before. But she decided that would be cowardly. Just go, admit she just couldn't find the courage to risk rejection from the man. There were some things Vera didn't know about her marriage.

Unless. No. Don't go there.

Vera was waiting at Panera when she arrived. After ordering their grilled chicken Caesar salads, they took their tea and found their favorite booth was vacant. A vertical wrinkle formed between Vera's eyebrows as she studied Siobhan. "So you didn't even let him know your thoughts about that petition his agency is considering now?"

"I can't. I'll survive without a man. I have for years now."

"I know you'll survive. But you deserve some happiness, Si. You said after he died, you felt so alone. That looking back, even though he took little responsibility, just knowing there was somebody who 'should' share part of it made it seem less heavy."

"I'll cope. I didn't realize for years that…" She sipped tea, started to finish the sentence just as their order number was called. "…that he-

Vera held up a finger. "Hold that thought. I'll get it."

After they'd given thanks for the food, both took a bite of salad. Vera chewed for a moment and swallowed. "So what did you start to say before they said our food was ready?"

Siobhan clamped her lips together and her throat muscles tightened. As though the bit of salad she'd taken had turned to acid in her mouth. She managed to swallow it and nodded. "That he was a blusterer. I was afraid he'd kick me out and..."

"Hah." Vera opened a sugar packet, stirred it into her tea. "Not likely. Especially after you went to work and soon made more money. And bought the house."

Siobhan rearranged the strips of chicken around and under the romaine lettuce on her plate. "I know. But I didn't know it then."

Vera wrinkled her forehead. "Didn't know before you got the job, or after?"

Siobhan stared down at her plate, fork still. "Before." She blinked rapidly, and brushed her free hand over her eyes. "I was so afraid he could do what he said. Success in my job, and a promotion or two later, helped me find some guts."

"Afraid he'd do what? He threatened you?"

"Oh, no. He wouldn't have dared. As a teen, his dad almost knocked him out for being disrespectful to his mother." Her lips twisted in a bitter smile. "He didn't dare after we moved out, either." The smile vanished and her face crumpled. "But he-didn't want me. After I started working. I kind of figured it was my punishment for not loving him the way he loved me." She dropped her fork. "Or he said he did, and I believed him." She picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of chicken. "I was so stupid."

Vera reached and took her friend's hand, didn't speak for a moment. "Not stupid. But what did he say, that you were 'afraid he could do.'"

"Take my baby, get custody." Siobhan whispered. "I would have died."

Vera muttered something under her breath that sounded like 'shoulda given him that concussion myself.' Speaking louder, she said, "Si. I'm so sorry. He coerced you into staying with him, same as a threat."

Siobhan stopped stirring her salad, took a sip of tea. "The guy at work wasn't even as good-looking as him. Was younger. Flattered me. Made me feel, pretty, desirable. Then he was transferred. Thank God for removing the temptation. I'm not sure I could have resisted, if he'd stayed around."

Vera picked up a crouton, chewed it, and looked at Siobhan intently. "I think you still haven't told me all that excuse for a husband did. So why did you feel obligated to stay with him? After his fall and didn't recover from the concussion, I guess I understand. But after your job success, you could have made it. And would have won, at the least, joint custody. And been free."

"Can we go? I can't swallow another bite." Siobhan jumped to her feet.

"Of course." Vera snatched a to-go box from the counter nearby and dumped both their salads into it. "I'm following you home."

"You don't have to do that." Siobhan pushed through the exit. "I don't think I can talk anymore."

"Then I will. I'll be right behind you. So be careful."

Siobhan jumped into her car and sped from the parking lot.

Arriving at the tidy white cottage, Vera was on Siobhan's heels as she hurried inside, but stopped in the spotless kitchen to tuck the take-out box on a refrigerator shelf. Siobhan went on into her bedroom and closed the door.

Vera debated barging into her friend's private space, but continued into the living room. Copies of several of Siobhan's books were stacked neatly on the oak coffee table. She'd managed to write, and publish, a dozen books. Over the last few years it had seemed to keep her mind off past, and present, family troubles. One could hope.

Vera's own heart ached for the pain she sensed in her friend. For any part she'd played in causing it. Siobhan's daughter never called or visited. She'd left right after her father's funeral. She'd known he was a heel. But he was still her father, Siobhan said. Vera would bet Siobhan never told her why she stayed with him. She would never speak ill of the ones who hurt her. Today had been a first and Vera was determined to try and get her to open up even more. Burying strong emotions did not lessen their damage.

How well I know. He sensed my deep hurt, took advantage of my vulnerability. I'm still guilty.

Fifteen minutes later Vera heard the sound of Siobhan's bedroom door opening and closing. So she evidently hadn't taken a pill and escaped into sleep. Vera dropped Siobhan's most recent book onto her lap, couldn't remember a word she'd read.

Won't get out of it that easy, will I?

"Still here? I hoped you'd given up and left." Siobhan had entered the living room, soft-soled chenille slippers noiseless on the carpet. "I just got a text from Angie Proctor's son."

Vera frowned. "Angie's son? He's back in town?"

"Looking for his sister. Wondered if I knew how to contact her."

"If you... Why would he imagine you'd know how to contact her? He surely knows about... her and..."

"Maybe not. He'd joined the army when she and- was very sorry to hear, didn't even know-he was dead."

"How could he not?"

"He's been doing mission work for that religious cult he and his wife are members of."

"And out of touch with his own sister?"

"Forget them. Who cares?" Siobhan's bearing changed abruptly. "Why did you follow me home?"

Vera closed the book she held and placed it with the others. "We need to talk, Si."

"Confession time." A harsh laugh erupted from Siobhan as she reached for the drapery pull cord and closed the bay window's floral drapes. "But I've already confessed-" She froze, still facing the closed draperies. "Vee."

"You knew." Vera slumped into the overstuffed chair. "I'd begun to suspect you did."

"Younger women. Even..." It was almost a growl. Siobhan pulled her robe's belt tighter, slipped her hand into the pocket.

Vera's stare dropped to the pocket. "I hoped you didn't know. It showed me what he was."

Siobhan's eyes widened. She leaned against the wall next to the window. "He told you?" She whispered.

Vera shook her head, covered her face with her hands. "He talked in his sleep."

"You know I still have our guns in the house. Didn't it make you hesitate to follow me?"

"I also know you're a hundred, a thousand, times better woman than I am. You'd never hurt me."

"You're sure?"

"Since you didn't him."

Siobhan pulled her cell phone from the pocket, laid it on a table.

Vera let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, in spite of her words. "He passed out, but talked. Woke and whined about her staying away. I finally began to put the pieces together. Then-" She shook her head, began again. "When I told him we were finished, he said he'd tell Ben about us. I reminded him there wasn't a statute of limitations now for what he did. And covered up. For others."

Siobhan said. "As if. Ben would have-

"He knew that. I could tell it was an empty threat. And a month later he fell off the scaffolding."

"And a year of hell followed for all concerned." Siobhan collapsed into a chair.

"Ben forgave me. Except for the guilt, the years since haven't been all bad."

Siobhan looked at the other woman, eyes wide.

"Yes, I confessed to him. He's a wonderful man."

The cell phone on the table chimed a notification. Siobhan picked it up and touched the screen. A stunned expression spread across her face.

"Hal!"