Summer In Iron Springs (31 page)

             
“How do you like living in Seattle?” Bill asked.

             
“I like it.” She glanced around as if looking for something more she could add to her words. “It rains a lot, though.”

             
“It’s too damn wet for me.” Bill said. “And Iron Springs? How do you like living there?”

             
This guy is a complete jerk
.
Phoebe forced a smile despite her negative thoughts. “It’s beautiful.”

             
Glenda squirmed in her chair and Phoebe could tell Bill’s brashness was making his wife uncomfortable. Although she labored to keep the conversation light, Bill kept moving the discussion to more serious-minded topics like the state of the economy, problems with the political system, and how he couldn’t wait for the current president to be voted out.

Give it a rest! It’s your wife’s birthday
.
Phoebe thought, relieved when Glenda asked her to go inside and help with the food. She needed a break from the friction that was almost as tangible as it was painful.

The quiche was ready
, so the two women gathered the food, assembled plates and utensils and headed back outside. Eating with Billy’s family was brutal. Phoebe glanced at her watch. How soon can we get out of here? Her earlier envy over living in such an amazing house was now replaced with sorrow for Glenda having to endure her husband’s insufferable personality. Not even an original Monet is worth suffering through this life day in and day out.

             
When everyone had finished eating, Billy handed his mother the gift. She opened it and admired the glass bell lovingly. “It’s beautiful Billy,” she said as she looked at the sparkling snow blanketing a tiny village.

             
“It’s a Joshua Kirkham, Mom,” Billy said.

             
“I know. It’s lovely.” Her eyes examined the striking detail of the beautiful gift. “I’ve been admiring it ever since it became available. He really outdid himself on this one.”

             
“Mom collects Kirkham Jars,” Billy said, directing his words at Phoebe. “She has . . . how many?” He raised his eyebrows, glancing at Glenda.

             
“Oh my. . . ” Glenda whispered, looking skyward. “Quite a few. And they’re all from you, Billy.” Her eyes sparkled when she looked at Billy.

             
After Glenda finished admiring the glass bell, Bill presented his wife with a white gold diamond tennis bracelet.

             
When Glenda saw the bracelet, her hand went to her mouth. “Oh, Bill! It’s gorgeous! The diamonds are perfect.”

             
Phoebe’s eyes grew wide when she saw the bracelet. The huge diamonds caught the sun and shone like an ultra-violet light. Each of the over twenty diamonds had to be close to a caret. That bracelet probably cost more than my house! Phoebe thought to herself.

             
“Nothing’s too good for you, sweetheart.” Bill pressed his lips to Glenda’s before gently wrapping the bracelet around her wrist and fastened the clasp. As Phoebe watched the tender way Bill treated Glenda, she could hardly believe he was the same guy she’d just spent an agonizing two hours with.

After returning to his seat, Bill glanced at his son
, and the tension that had temporarily vanished returned full-force. “So, Billy, when are you going to tell me what you were doing at the prison?”

             
“Not now, please, Bill.” Glenda pleaded.

             
“Oh, honey, don’t worry. There’s nothing wrong with a father worrying about his son.” Bill looked sternly in Billy’s direction.

             
“I already told you what I was doing there,” Billy snapped.

             
“I know what you told me.” Bill’s tone was solemn. “You said you were helping a friend. And, I guess I’m just wondering what kind of friend needs you to visit him in prison.” Bill sneered.

             
“He was helping me,” Phoebe said protectively. She looked at Bill for a moment and then glanced at Glenda who was on the verge of tears.

             
“Oh really, how nice,” Bill said, sarcastically. “Sarah tells me you’ve got a bit of a criminal history yourself, young lady.”

             
Phoebe scowled at Bill and opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind when Billy took her by the arm.

             
“That’s it, Dad! I’m done!” Billy shook his head disgustedly. “Come on, Phoebe, let’s go.”

             
“No, Billy, Please stay,” Glenda pleaded with Billy before turning to her husband. “Bill, that’s quite enough! I asked you for one day! One!” She walked over to Billy and put her arms around him. “Please don’t go, Billy.”

             
“I’m sorry, Mom. I just can’t stay. I’m really sorry about doing this on your birthday.”

             
“Oh, come on, Billy,” Bill demanded. “Don’t be a baby. I asked a simple question. Phoebe says you were helping her. Who were you visiting at the prison? Was it Phoebe’s father? Her mother maybe?”

             
“That’s enough, Bill!” Glenda insisted loudly.

             
“Phoebe’s mother was murdered, Dad!” Billy exclaimed. “We went to talk to the guy who did it! Okay! Are you satisfied?” Billy took Phoebe’s hand and walked away.

Twenty Six

After church, Phoebe and Billy spent a quiet day at Anna’s. Phoebe’s upcoming departure caused a somber atmosphere to loom over the ranch. Sitting idly in the porch swing, they enjoyed the afternoon breeze in silence. Phoebe rested her head comfortably on Billy’s chest while he gently ran his fingers up and down her arm. She had only three more days in Iron Springs and she wanted to spend every minute with Billy.

             
“You’re buzzing,” Phoebe said drowsily. She had drifted into a state somewhere between semi-awake and sound asleep when she felt the vibration coming from Billy’s shirt pocket.

             
Billy withdrew his phone, glanced at it and, after ignoring the call, shut it off and tossed it to the side.

             
“Who was it?”

             
“My dad.”

             
“He’s called a lot. Maybe you should answer.”

             
“Feebs . . .” Billy scolded. “I’m not talking to him.”

             
“Okay.” Phoebe nestled herself against Billy’s body and closed her eyes.

             
The screen door opened and Anna stepped onto the porch. “Billy, your father’s on the phone.”

             
Billy rolled his eyes and glanced at Phoebe. “Talk to him Billy.” Phoebe whispered. “He’s just going to keep calling.”

             
“No.” Billy didn’t move from his stretched out position on the porch swing. “Anna please let him know that I don’t want to talk to him.”

             
Anna glanced at Phoebe and shrugged her shoulders while holding the phone out to her. Phoebe let out a sigh, stood up and accepted the phone from Anna.

             
“Feebs, don’t talk to him,” Billy said, not even trying to keep his voice down.

             
Phoebe covered the mouthpiece. “Let’s just see what he has to say,” she whispered.

             
“Fine, whatever.” Billy waved a hand in the air.

             
“Good luck.” Anna mouthed before heading back inside.

             
“Hello, Mr. Hall. It’s Phoebe.”

             
“Hi Phoebe,” Bill said. From his tone, Phoebe was sure Glenda must have let him have it after they left. “I’m glad it was you that answered.”

             
“You are? Why?”

             
“I wanted to say that I’m sorry for how I acted yesterday.” As Bill talked, Phoebe paced from one end of the porch to the other.

             
“Thank you Mr. Hall.” She put her hand over the mouthpiece and caught Billy’s eye. “He said he’s sorry.” She whispered.

             
Billy waved his hand through the air again.

             
“Billy doesn’t want to talk to me, does he?”

             
“No.”

             
“That’s okay. I understand.” Bill’s voice betrayed the regret he felt. “Tell him I’m sorry will you? And I apologize for the way I acted toward you too. I was completely out of line.”

             
“Thank you.” Phoebe couldn’t imagine what had happened between yesterday and today to have caused such a change to come over Bill.

             
“It’s good you answered because I have something to talk to you about.” Bill added.

             
“You do?” Phoebe said, taking a seat on the porch swing.

             
“I called John…uh, Warden Harris. I asked him to bend the rules and allow you visit Mr. Smith.”

             
“What?” Phoebe put a hand to her chest. “Mr. Hall, how do you know about Mike?”

Bill was silent for a moment and then he let out a long sigh. “First of all, please call me Bill. Mr. Hall is my father.”

              “Okay.” Phoebe chuckled nervously even though there was nothing funny about any of this.

             
“I called out to the prison hospital this morning and started asking around. Eventually I got Leonard on the phone.”

             
“Leonard?”

             
“You met with him when you went to the prison hospital. He’s the guy that sent you away.”

             
Phoebe thought about the experience at the infirmary. Leonard was about as friendly as a porcupine. She had a hard time believing that he had a part in arranging her visit with Mike.

             
“Well, anyway,” Bill continued. “…he told me about your mom. He told me that you and Billy were there yesterday and that you told him that you believe Mike Smith killed your mother. I’m so sorry, Phoebe. I’m sorry about your mom and I’m sorry for acting the way I did when you were at my home.” There was a long silence before Bill continued.

“After speaking with Leonard, I called Warden
Huffman—we golf together. I told him about your mom and I asked him to let you see Mike for a few minutes.”

             
“What did he say?” Phoebe held her breath while she waited for Bill to respond.

             
“He said you could see Mike as long as he agrees to see you.”

             
Phoebe braced herself. She couldn’t imagine Mike would agree to see her if he knew who she was.

             
“Do you think he’ll agree to see me?” Phoebe’s pulse quickened as she anticipated Bill’s response.

             
“He already did. He knows you have questions. When the guard told him about you, he admitted that he broke into your home. He told the guard everything. He admitted what he did to your mother . . .” Bill didn’t finish his sentence.

             
“He did?” Phoebe couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Mike admitted killing her mother? She’d expected him to deny everything.

             
“I took the liberty of setting up a meeting—it’s tomorrow at two. Can you make it then?”

             
“Yes I can.” Phoebe’s mind was spinning. She should be happy but instead, she was stunned. She had no idea how to begin processing the information Bill had given her. “Thank you Bill,” she managed to say. “I really appreciate this.”

             
“My pleasure, Phoebe,” Bill said. He cleared his throat before speaking again. “Phoebe, I hope you can accept my apology. I’m sure I made an awful impression but I want you to know that I love my son. I haven’t been a perfect father but I do love him and I want the best for him. My wife was really angry with me after you two left.” Bill paused before adding, “I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen her that angry before. Anyway, she helped me to see that I have been making Billy miserable by expecting him to live his life for me. I thought I was doing what was best for him but now I know I was only thinking of myself.”

             
Wow! That must have been some talk Glenda had with him. “Mr. Hall, I mean, uh, Bill—I think Billy needs to hear this, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do. But I know he won’t talk to me now. I’ll talk to him and make things right. I don’t want to do it over the phone anyway.” After a brief pause, he added, “Phoebe? Uh, you should know that well, Mike Smith . . . he’s terminally ill.”

“I know.” Phoebe’s words were void of emotion. “I read it on his court papers. He has brain cancer.” She knew she sounded unsympathetic but she didn’t feel any sympathy for the man that killed her mother and she couldn’t bring herself to act like she did. “Thanks,” she said before ending the call.

             
She set the cordless phone on the patio table before turning to Billy. “Your dad set up a meeting with Mike.” She glanced solemnly at Billy. “He said he arranged it through the warden.”

             
Billy sat up and studied Phoebe’s face. “He did?”

             
Phoebe nodded and stared blankly into the distance. “Your dad said Mike admitted to everything.”

             
Billy put his arm around her and she collapsed in his arms and cried. “It’ll be okay Feebs.”

              “Hearing what your dad said just made this all so real,” she said between sobs. “I mean, I guess I never imagined he’d admit to it outright.”

             
“I know. I’m sure that was hard to hear” Billy pressed his lips to the top of Phoebe’s head. “I wish there was something I could say to take away your sadness.”

             
Phoebe looked up at Billy through wet, red eyes and studied his face. “Just having you here to help me through this is more than I could ever ask for Billy.”

             
After Billy left for the evening, Phoebe sat alone on the porch—she was going to miss Iron Springs. She’d miss Anna. She’d even miss Norm. And Billy, oh how she’d miss Billy. But, she’d also leave with so much more than she’d arrived with. Her mother would be with her forever. A tear fell from her eye and she wiped it away. The screen door opened and Anna stepped outside.

             
“Are you okay?” Anna asked. She took a seat beside Phoebe.

             
Phoebe nodded. “I was just thinking about my mom.”

             
“What were you thinking?” Anna asked, sitting beside Phoebe.

             
“I just miss her. I wish she was still here.”

             
Anna nodded. “I know. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss her terribly. She was not just my sister; she was my best friend.”

              “Will you tell me about her?”

Anna
smiled and settled back in her seat. “She was beautiful, inside and out, just like you.” Anna’s eyes sparkled as she spoke of her sister. “She loved deeply and she gave of herself freely.” Anna’s voice cracked and she paused to regain her composure.

They spent the next couple hours talking about Bessie. As the evening grew dark, and the sounds of night filled the air, Phoebe stared into the star-filled sky and smiled. She would see her mother again one day. She knew she would.

“Thank you . . . for everything,” Phoebe said, as they stood to head inside.

Anna
put her arms around Phoebe. “You’re welcome. I want you to know I love you. I have always loved you and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“I love you too.”

Twenty Seven

Five a.m.? Why am I awake? Phoebe checked the clock again to make sure she’d read the time correctly. No alarm, no Norm banging on the door and no work to do and I’m lying here awake. She gave a long stretch and a yawn. Her days of being forced to rise early were over. She should be happy. This would be her first official day as an unemployed person and she already missed the orchard.

She knew there was no chance of pulling the covers over her head and falling back to sleep, not today. The meeting with Mike Smith was not for another nine hours. She would need to stay busy; keep her mind occupied.

Phoebe glanced drowsily around her room before settling her eyes on her mother’s artwork. She walked to the wall where the paintings hung and gazed at each of them. The room was dark except for a tiny shimmer of moonlight that peaked through the partially open drapes and illuminated the area just around the paintings. She reached up and gently touched the door of the cottage where she had lived with her parents when she was a toddler. She put a hand over her heart, closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply. Slowly, she blew the breath out. The paintings had taken her on an incredible journey and, for the first time in her life, she felt content; she knew who she was and where she came from.

             
After a long hot shower she got dressed quickly. Then she gathered her painting supplies; the canvas Billy had given her and some water colors and her mother’s brushes. She could think of no better way to honor her mother than to use the brushes to create something beautiful. She hurried downstairs and scribbled a note for Anna before heading out the door.

She
made her way to the willow tree. In the new morning sun, the light that spilled through the tree’s low hanging branches created a streaming kaleidoscopic of colors.

Before Phoebe set to work, she spent some time studying the tree’s graceful shimmering foliage with its iridescent light green color. She looked carefully at one of the elongated, feather-veined leaves and marveled at the beauty
of even the tiniest detail.