In a Moon Smile (38 page)

She leaned against the headstone, rested her cheek there and closed her eyes to block out the glare of the sun. “Somehow it gives me hope, Grace. To know that you loved Ben, it makes me wonder if it could also happen someday for me.”

Chesney signed, enjoying the soft breeze, the scent of fresh mown grass, the chatter of birds in the trees. Being here was a nice break from the long hours she spent working inside the house, beginning the morning with something other than a renovation project felt wonderful. She kicked off her sandals, wiggled her bare toes and threw her head back, eyes closed, to feel the sun on her face. This was such a peaceful place, the cemetery, the small town, the house, all of the moments she spent in the country made Chesney feel centered. For the first time ever, she didn’t feel that she was perching, staying only for a while, until the universe tossed her into another new direction. No, that feeling was gone. And she felt strongly that she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

For the first time in her life, Chesney was finally in charge of herself. She wasn’t worried anymore about what her mother might say or think or feel. She no longer gave power to those weird invisible messages that ruled her life until now. Chesney now understood a lot about herself. She was in relationships for the wrong reasons, with the wrong men. That’s exactly why nothing had worked. She spent so many years making the wrong decisions about the wrong men for all the wrong reasons. Someday it might even be humorous to look back at the broken pieces of her past. Sometimes when she recalled the men she thought she loved, it felt like someone else’s story, not her own. She was very proud of what she had done. Moving away from everything and everyone she knew took guts. Taking on the task of completely renovating Chesney Ridge took even more guts. She felt strong and self-assured. She would no longer be so easily influenced by the opinions and expectations of other people. Chesney knew now that she was a very capable woman. She was finally betting only on herself.

“Hello Chesney.” A male voice made her jump, startled. Her eyes were wide and her heart blasted warning and fear. But when Chesney turned around to follow the sound of the voice, she found herself speechless. She was looking directly into the eyes of the mystery man in Grace’s photos. No doubt about it. This was the nameless man who sat on the porch swing with Grace, quietly loving her. This was also the man she saw crying beside Grace’s casket. White hair. Piercing blue eyes. He didn't need to say it. She felt it. She felt it in every part of her being. When the elderly man offered his hand, Chesney whispered, “Ben.”

Ben smiled and tipped his worn felt hat. “I thought someday I might see you here. I’ve known for quite a while that you've come back to Bean Blossom.” He carefully placed a fresh bouquet of daisies on the grave. “Chesney darling, you're even lovelier in person than you were in the photos Grace showed me.”

Muttering a quiet thanks, Chesney stared at his blue eyes. How could his eyes be so much like Dalton Moore's eyes? Unless...

“Why didn't Grace ever tell me about you?” she asked. “I never had a clue, until a few days ago, that Grace was ever loved by anyone except our family.”

“Oh, that Gracie,” Ben laughed softly and rubbed his chin. In slow steps, he walked to a nearby bench, sat down and motioned for Chesney to join him. She tried not to show how eager she was to hear the story. With hundreds of questions spinning around in her mind, Chesney forced all of them to stay in her throat, jumbled up and impatient, demanding escape. She studied the elderly man’s face. Weathered by age and sun, his rugged handsomeness was evident. His hands trembled slightly as he placed his cane next to the bench.

“I love to sit here,” Ben said as his gentle eyes scanned the small cemetery. “Most of the time when I visit, I feed the squirrels. I see a lot of rabbits here, too.”

Trying to contain her impatience, Chesney only nodded. She wanted the story, all of it. She found herself aching for a mental picture of Grace as a woman.

“I assume you know the story about your grandfather,” Ben said. “How he walked away? He left Gracie soon after your father was born.”

Chesney nodded.

“Well your grandmother and grandfather were never legally divorced,” Ben said. “In fact, Gracie was never able to find Richard. So, of course, it is impossible to divorce someone who literally seemed to just vanish. Years ago, the break-up of a marriage left a big stigma, especially on a woman left alone with a child.”

Chesney‘s mind traveled back to the framed photographs on Grace’s bedroom walls and bedside table, photos of herself with her son smiling happily on her lap.

“For years, your grandmother feared that people might assume she was never married at all,” Ben said. “So when I came along, she was too embarrassed to reveal our relationship to the community.”

“Because legally, she was still married...” Chesney said.

“Exactly,” Ben nodded. “Gracie was a fine woman, a very respectable lady.”

“Yes.” Tears stung Chesney’s eyes.

“So I went along with her wishes,” Ben shrugged. “Through the years, I tried a few times to talk about the new generation. I tried to explain to Grace that she didn’t need to live in shame, not for the failed marriage to Richard and certainly not about our relationship. But she wouldn't hear anything different. Stubborn woman, your grandmother.”

Ben smiled and the love in his eyes made Chesney swallow hard. It was tender, gentle, beautiful love. “How did you meet Grace?”

“I stocked her pond with fish,” Ben said. “She offered me a glass of sun tea. We sat on the back porch and I was in love before my glass was empty. That was more than twenty years ago.”

Conjuring up a perfect picture of Grace and Ben together on the porch was not a struggle at all. She imagined Grace, wearing one of her cotton print dusters and a straw hat. Ben, sitting there quietly falling in love like a perfect gentleman.

“Did she love you, too?” Chesney asked.

“Very much,” Ben smiled. “We were crazy about each other. We made an effort to play, to enjoy life. In fact, we often danced in the kitchen. You remember that big stereo she kept in the parlor? Yes, we often played music and had ourselves quite a few wonderful dances. We laughed all the time. And we rowed that old boat around on the pond and talked for hours.”

The sadness in Ben’s voice made Chesney feel weak, and so very sorry for his heart.

“Before I met Gracie, I was alone for several years,” he said. “When my children were young, my wife passed away. And a long time ago, I gave up hope that I would ever love again. But when I met Grace, well, it was like my chest opened up and I was alive all over again.”

His voice was filled with so much emotion that Chesney was suddenly sobbing. Ben patted her back while she hid her face in her hands. He simply waited, never mentioning the hot tears flowing down her face. “You attended her funeral,” Chesney said when she regained some composure.

Ben nodded sadly.

“I saw you there,” She timidly touched his hand. “I saw the pain on your face. I heard you whisper that you loved her. But you were gone so quickly. And I never knew who you were.”

“I thought I would die that day when I found her.” Big tears dripped over Ben's face. He shamelessly allowed them to dribble down his wrinkled cheeks as he folded his hands and stared at the ground. “We had a plan that day to go for a picnic at Brown County Park. For some reason, Chesney, I woke up that morning with an awful feeling. When I turned down the lane at Chesney Ridge, that bad feeling got worse. The closer I got to the front porch, the stronger the bad feeling got.” He stopped talking for a moment, removed a neatly folded hankie from the breast pocket of his shirt and dabbed at his beautiful blue eyes. “When Grace didn't answer, I opened the door. I called her name. Nothing. Even though my knees were shaking so bad I could hardly stand up, I went up the stairs to find her.”

He stopped again to wipe his nose and Chesney put her arm protectively around the old man's fragile shoulders. She breathed in the scent of him, fresh soap and that musky smell of too many years of pain. She leaned against his shoulder.

“There she was,” his voice broke. Chesney’s heart hurt, hearing Ben relive such a painful experience. “She was still in bed with her reading glasses on her chest. She looked like she was sleeping. And she looked like a sweet little angel.”

A sob erupted from Chesney’s throat. She wanted to know. But yet the vivid images of Grace’s death made her feel overcome all over again with grief.

“I took my shoes off and got on the bed beside her,” Ben said as sobs threatened to take away his voice. “I dreamed for years about making Gracie my wife someday. I dreamed so many times about sleeping every night with Gracie in my arms. So I just couldn't let her go without at least knowing what it would have been like. I wanted to lie beside her on the bed, even though she was gone and even though it was for only a few moments.” Ben was sobbing again and Chesney held him. Her own tears dribbled down the neckline of her sundress. Under the morning sun, they huddled together on the bench, crying for the woman they both loved so dearly but so differently.

“I'm so grateful that you were in Grace’s life,” Chesney whispered. “I thought she lived her life alone. And that thought has haunted me forever.”

“I loved her very much,” Ben sniffed. “She was the most wonderful woman I've ever known. Since the day I lost my little Gracie, I have been ready to leave this world. I don't want to be here without her. It's too lonely.”

A few moments of silence passed. Ben struggled to stand, leaning heavily on his cane. He smiled at Chesney and again, those blue eyes filled her with questions she couldn’t yet ask. Ben’s eyes matched Dalton Moore's eyes.

“Your eyes are Gracie's eyes,” Ben said softly. “Thank goodness for that. I look at you, honey, and I see a part of her. You have those same gray eyes. I imagine your family talks about that a lot, don’t they?”

Sure they do, Ben, when they aren’t criticizing me or laughing at my stupid choices.

She stood and touched the side of his face. She said nothing about Ben's eyes being the same as her handyman's eyes. She would sound crazy. “I'm so glad you and Grace loved each other. You don't know how grateful I am to hear your story. Grace deserved you, Ben. She deserved a heart exactly like yours.”

“Thank you, dear,” Ben said. “Maybe I'll see you again one day.”

“Why don't you visit me at the house?” Chesney said quickly. “We'll sit outside on the porch swing and talk. Winter's coming soon, you know. So don't wait too long before you visit.”

Ben leaned in and tenderly kissed her cheek. “Maybe I will,” he said. “It might be nice to visit Chesney Ridge again. Gracie loved that place, you know.”

Then he turned and slowly made his way across the cemetery.

As Chesney drove home, she couldn’t stop wiping tears away. Now the story was complete. She would carefully put it away in her heart. She didn’t plan to discuss the love affair with anyone but Becca. She couldn’t bring herself to tell her dad or anyone else in the family. It felt too much like betrayal of Grace’s secrets.

Once back at the house, Chesney walked into the kitchen, which was empty except for little Blossom who bounded through the house as soon as she heard the back door open. “Good morning, little girl,” Chesney cooed as she hugged Blossom close.

She heard Dalton moving around upstairs and guessed that he was probably busy tiling the bathroom. She could hardly wait to see the transformation. When her cell phone rang, Chesney remembered that she still hadn’t called Charlotte. Her sister was likely on the line with a snippy attitude. But it was her agent calling. And the moment Chesney heard the happiness in Gloria’s voice, she sighed, relieved.

“Chesney, we love the draft,” Gloria said cheerfully. “I could hardly wait to call you. I don't know how you did it. But this book has a totally different flavor. It's absolutely wonderful.”

Chesney muttered a rather sheepish thank you which was ignored by Gloria. “John Peoni and I discussed this yesterday,” Gloria spluttered. “We were thinking about the initial book cover designs. We've decided none of those are appropriate.”

“What did you have in mind?” Chesney asked as she kicked off her sandals, walked into the parlor and curled up on the couch with Blossom.

“John wants to totally rework the cover. And we both want you to sit for a new portrait shot for the back cover,” Gloria said. “I know you're caught up in renovations, darling. But is there any possibility that you could fly in for a day or two?”

A trip to New York? She considered leaving her home, her puppy, her handyman.

No, Gloria. I don’t want to leave. I would probably go into withdrawal if I had to be so far away from Dalton, my dream boyfriend.

“Chesney?” Gloria’s voice jerked her back to the moment.

I’m happy to do it,” Chesney lied. “Let me just scribble a note for myself about what John has in mind.” As Gloria babbled on, Chesney barely participated in the conversation. “Okay then. I look forward to seeing you and John in a couple of days.”

As Chesney tried to end the call, Gloria added, “John and I are so excited for you. We believe this book will easily develop into a series. You’ve got a real winner on your hands. Life in the country must be doing magic for you.”

After they said good-bye, Chesney stared at the stillness of the room. “I don’t want to go.” She shuffled up the stairs to make flight reservations on the computer. “What in the hell is wrong with me?” she muttered as she printed the flight information. She turned in her office chair to stare out the window. “Snap out of it,” Chesney said loudly.