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Authors: Susan X Meagher

The Right Time (47 page)

BOOK: The Right Time
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Hennessy dashed up to her room, clutching a letter in her hand. The last thing she’d gotten in the mail from Townsend was a cheery card and a remarkably nice, obviously expensive sweater at Christmas. Since then, they’d exchanged no more than four e-mails. Townsend would write, Hennessy would reply immediately, then another three or four weeks would pass. She knew she behaved more like a dog desperate for attention than a fellow adult, but she couldn’t help herself. When Townsend wrote, she had to respond.

But this was something special. Either good or bad, but definitely special.

Once inside her room, she carefully slid the heavyweight envelope open and pulled the folded paper out. Hands shaking, she brought the letter close to read it.

Dear Hennessy,

I refuse to believe it’s been a year since our debacle on the Vineyard, but the powers that be at Larkspur are closing the place down for a week, claiming it’s Spring Break.

Are you in the mood for a reprise?

Hennessy jumped to her feet, so happy she let out a quiet cry. But her eyes weren’t satisfied to stop there. They kept on reading.

Jenna would love to meet you, even though she says she feels like you’re old friends, given how much I talk about you.

The instinct to wad the letter up and hurl it against the wall made her fingers twitch, but she forced herself to keep reading.

My mom’s going to be there, and my army of mental health professionals all agree I’m ready to try to turn my horrible reputation around. I really think you should be there for the attempt, given you were the main person dragging me towards respectability for so long.

What do you say? I can’t guarantee warm water or sunny days, but I would love to see you. I promise to go nowhere near the jail. Not even for a visit!

Let me know when you can.

XO

Townsend.

Hennessy took the note and folded it, then gently slid it back into its envelope. She wouldn’t read it again. There were only so many times she’d voluntarily be kicked in the teeth.

Hours later, she was lying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Robyn came in and dropped her backpack, then moved over and put the back of her hand on Hennessy’s forehead. “You don’t seem feverish, but…”

Hennessy sat up and smoothed her hair into place. “I’m not sick. Just thinking.”

“You’re always thinking,” Robyn teased. “But you never do it lying down. In the middle of the day, no less.”

“Got a letter,” she said, then handed it over.

Robyn took the dove gray paper in her hand, then let her thumb and forefinger glide over the surface. “This is old money stationery. Damn,” she mused, turning it over. “It’s engraved! Who does that kind of thing?”

“The Jamesons and the Bartleys. Read on.”

Robyn’s dark eyes scanned the paper, then Hennessy could see her move to the top and read it once again. “Yeah,” she said, nodding as she sat down.

“What do you think?” Hennessy asked, staring into eyes which were darting around the room, never once meeting hers.

“I think she wants to be friends.” She got up and moved over to sit behind Hennessy, then put her hands on her shoulders and rubbed them gently. “I’m sorry, but I think she’s moving on.”

“I do too. And I can’t bear to watch.”

Robyn hung around for just a few minutes more. She probably couldn’t stand the tension in the room.

There were so many things Hennessy wanted to say. Answers she ached to demand. But Townsend was trying to make this easy, and Hennessy reminded herself of her promise to always support her. Always meant
always,
not just when it was comfortable. After moving to her desk, she started to compose a letter, using a piece of printer paper:

Dear Townsend,

I’m not going to be able to make it, but I very much appreciate the offer to spend spring break with you and Jenna. I know you two will have a great time, and I’m one hundred percent confident you’ll enjoy being back on the beach—even though that water is as cold as the dickens in my learned opinion.

Last Christmas I almost gave you a gift. Very generous of me! But now you’ve earned it fair and square.

I teased you with the gift last year, and now I’m paying up. Enclosed is your one-year chip. You’re used to wearing nice things, and I wanted this to be something that matched your other jewelry. I also wanted it to be something that lasted. Just like I knew your recovery would last. There was a tiny dip in the road, but now you’ve gotten there. All by yourself. To say I’m proud of you would be understating the situation so much, it’s not even funny. But I am proud of you, and I’m so very happy for you. It’s amazing to watch a woman change and grow in the ways you have this past year. Of course, I wish I’d gotten to see some of that growth in person…but I’m greedy that way.

I realize now that telling you about the medallion last year was a set-up. It wasn’t my place to hold treats out in front of you, daring you to reach for them. My cautious nature got in the way. That’s a lesson I’ve learned this year. Admittedly, I haven’t made as many strides as you have, but I’m from the South and we’re notoriously a little pokey.

So, belatedly, here’s the gift I’ve been holding for you. It’s yours now, Townsend. You’ve earned the right to wear it. Whether or not you do—my respect for you will last longer than this precious metal.

She was going to stop there. She should have stopped there. But a tiny spark of hope still burned in her heart. If there was a chance, no matter how small, she was going to grab it.

I’ve made some other changes, and have figured a few things out about myself. I’d love to talk with you about them. Is there any chance we could see each other before I leave for South Carolina in May? If not, how about before I go to Paris in September? I’d surely love to.

All my love,

Hennessy

 

 

Spring break was less than thrilling spent in Boston with just a few foreign students to keep her company. The only exciting part was going to Brookline for a couple of days to visit Robyn—after the louse had spent the week in Cancun!

Hennessy’d just gotten back to her dorm room when there was a frantic knock at the door. Opening it, she saw Townsend, cheeks flushed, eyes glowing with what looked like fear.

“What’s wrong?” Hennessy asked, grasping her by the shoulders.

“Oh, shit, I must look like I’m running from muggers. I’m not,” she added. “I’m just—” She looked around the empty hallway. “Any chance I could come in?”

“Damn! You looked so weird, I lost track of my manners.”

“Nice to know I look weird.” She put an arm around Hennessy’s shoulders and pulled her down for a quick kiss on the cheek. Then she flopped down onto a chair. “I don’t have long. A driver’s going to stop by to pick me up and take me back to school.”

Hennessy took the other chair and leaned forward, anxiously.

“You don’t have to look like you’re going to jump out of that chair. I’m freaked out, but nothing terminal.”

Hennessy forced herself to at least give the appearance of being relaxed, but she wasn’t. She’d rarely seen Townsend act so agitated, and thoughts of last year kept replaying in her head. Mostly of the long day spent at the jail.

Townsend crossed an ankle over her knee, then rested her elbows on her braced leg. “Here’s how it went. The Vineyard was a qualified success. In fact, I would have thought it was a tremendous success, if it hadn’t been for the last day.”

“What happened?”

“Jenna seemed to be enjoying herself, even though our lifestyle is way different from hers. Her family’s very wholesome. Super, super wholesome. When I was there at Christmas,” she started to laugh, looking so happy Hennessy’s jealousy roared to life. What in the holy fuck? Townsend went to Utah and didn’t even mention it?

“…cop a feel.”

Blinking, Hennessy raised a hand. “I didn’t hear that. Who copped a feel?”

“No one,” she said, laughing. “I said, her dad seemed so remarkably wholesome, I expected him to.”

Temper still at the breaking point, Hennessy snapped, “That’s not funny to even tease about!”

“Yes, it is. When the guy’s as squeaky clean as a…well, I don’t know anyone who’s squeaky clean, but he is. It just freaks me out when a guy acts so normal. I’m sure he’s putting on a good front to hide his truly evil urges.”

Hennessy bit her lip. She distinctly recalled Townsend saying she’d done nothing on her Christmas break worth talking about. More like worth talking about to
her.

“We talked a lot about what we wanted to do after college, and I suggested she stay on the East coast for a while since she seems to like it so much.” She chuckled wryly. “Regrettably, Vermont isn’t filled with eligible, young Mormon men, so she’s pretty sure she’ll have to head back to Utah after we graduate.”

Hennessy didn’t give a good fuck what Jenna did or when she did it, but Townsend was clearly upset about something, so she had to at least act interested. “Really? She’s not able to decide for herself what she’s going to do?”

“Doesn’t look like it. In fact,” she said, leaning forward, “she has to go on a two-year mission to some place or other to spread the faith. She could be sent anywhere in the world—the Arctic, Australia, Haiti, Sweden—anywhere. I don’t know about you, but I could never let anyone tell me where I had to live and what I had to do for two years, but you probably know that about me already.”

“Yeah,” Hennessy said, a reluctant smile forming. “I know that about you.”

“Like I said, things went great until the last day. I had to go to my AA meeting, and she wanted to go into town with me, giving her an hour on her own to wander around the shops. She was in a good mood when I left her, and we made plans to have lunch after I got back.

“It may not have escaped your sharp gaze that the folks on the island are not particularly fond of me. I don’t know if Jenna heard the citizenry calling out the alarm to lock up their daughters or what, but when I got back she was…different. That’s the only word I have for it. She was different.

“She didn’t want to have lunch, and for the rest of the day I could hardly get two words out of her. Even Mom couldn’t get her to talk, and you know how good she is at things like that.”

The only image in Hennessy’s head was of sitting at that lovely restaurant with Miranda, then having Townsend throw a fit. If she’d done that again…

“Jenna went to bed as soon as we got back from dinner, and she was very quiet on the drive back to town this morning. About halfway home, she said she was in a hurry to get back to school, and she asked us to drop her off at Logan. She’d rather sit in an airport, alone, than ride back up to Vermont with me in a limo. What the fuck?”

Hennessy had been listening closely, but the only thing that was coming through loud and clear was how much Jenna meant to Townsend. She sat there, staring at her, trying to figure out how to ask what she so desperately wanted to know.

“What do you think? No ideas?” Townsend asked.

“Oh. Uhm…all I can guess is that someone said something to her.” Hennessy scratched her head, a jumble of questions flying around. “People said some pretty bad things about you when I was looking for you last year.”

“Fuck me.” Townsend slumped down in her chair, defeated. “What good does it do to try to turn your life around if people are going to hold your mistakes over your head forever?”

“Hey,” Hennessy said, her empathy growing. “That’s not going to happen. But you’ve gotta remember it was only a year ago that the locals got some more ammo to throw at you. Maybe you should stay away from the Vineyard for a while. Memories aren’t that long.”

Townsend let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She faced Hennessy squarely. “I guess I thought you’d have some way to make everything right. You’re good at that, you know.”

Hennessy tried to give her an encouraging smile. “You’ll find out soon. And I bet it’ll all be fine. She probably just heard some things and is processing them. If she’s a good Christian, remind her that Jesus’ friends were prostitutes and divorcees and all sorts of people others shunned.”

“Good point. Can I call you for Bible backup?”

“We’re Catholics, June Bug. The Bible’s not a big deal for us. But I’ll help out in any way I can.”

Townsend took a quick look at her phone, then stood. “Gotta go. Thanks for being here. Sorry for bending your ear the whole time.” She wrapped Hennessy in a tender hug, whispering, “Next time we’ll talk about you.” Then she backed away, waved and took off, running down the stairs.

BOOK: The Right Time
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