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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Relationships
- Published: 07/20/2024
HOLLOW VICTORIES
Born 1966, M, from Marianna-Florida, United StatesHOLLOW VICTORIES
For some people, an inordinate amount of wealth can be a refuge from the anguish and disappointment that plagues a considerable portion of the human race. The adoration and respect that are ceremoniously heaped upon the rich can foster a sense of security that makes the miseries of the downtrodden seem worlds away. While no one should deny man’s inherent desire for personal fulfillment, there are certain realities that cannot be dismissed. An individual who attempts to hide behind a wall of opulent complacency could find himself grappling with the dark and virulent tendencies of a disaffected heart.
Eleanor Geary was convinced she’d defeated the demons of her past. After a lonely and disillusioned childhood, the socially awkward romantic boarded a bus to California with the dream of becoming a Hollywood actress. Even though she managed to keep her head above water for a while, years of knocking on doors garnered little more than demeaning bit parts and cheesy commercials. Ardent attempts to attract the attention of talent scouts and studio heads resulted in numerous disappointments. As time passed, homelessness and hunger compelled her to seek refuge in the arms of treacherous men with evil intentions. Eventually, she succumbed to the lure of drugs and alcohol. In less than ten years, a vibrant young woman who came to Tinseltown with stars in her eyes had spiraled into an abysmal pit of unattainable goals and disavowed opportunities.
When she hit rock bottom, Eleanor took stock of her existence and reached out to a community program that set her on the path to a better life. By the age of thirty, the recovering addict was making every effort to remain clean and sober. Around that time, she met and married a Texas oil tycoon named Langston Geary. The two of them enjoyed a cordial and comfortable relationship until Preston’s death seven years later.
Driving down Interstate 10 on a dark rainy morning was hardly the time for esoteric introspection, but Eleanor couldn’t suppress the poignant reminders of a world she’d fought so hard to leave behind. She was now a wealthy widow with the means to accomplish anything she desired. Nevertheless, there was no denying that every selfish act had been a prelude to calamity. So, realizing the importance of living in the present, this accomplished survivor resolved to return to her hometown with a renewed sense of purpose and discard the ancillary emotions that would only leave her floundering in a mire of self-defeating spite.
Although Eleanor’s family visited her in Texas when her husband died, the sanguine dreamer hadn’t cruised the streets of Emerald Gulf, Florida since leaving home two decades ago. As she drove past recently constructed luxury hotels, burger joints, nightclubs and shopping malls, the sentimental ponderer remembered brisk afternoons spent playing video games at Bobby’s Arcade. Back then, Bobby Pearlman and his wife, Julia, helped a chubby teenage girl realize the world’s superficial view of beauty couldn’t hold a candle to a forgiving nature and a loving heart. She’d always appreciated the time and compassion the Pearlman’s shared with her. Though she was well aware her friends had retired and moved to Miami, Eleanor was looking forward to having a look at the little white building that held so many special memories for her. Unfortunately, when she entered the parking lot of the Lafayette Plaza, the anticipating hometown girl discovered the structure had been demolished.
Adolescence was a moment in time the sophisticated heiress in the Sacramento green Cadillac had spent years endeavoring to forget. Thanks to the kindness of adults like the Pearlmans, Eleanor learned to view the world around her through a more seasoned pair of eyes. Now in her mid-forties, the resolute conqueror believed she’d stood up to life’s adversities and weathered the deadliest storms. As far as she was concerned, the best was yet to come. Of course, there was no way to determine what would happen when she found herself face to face with the source of all her teenage nightmares.
It had been a long drive from Texas and Eleanor hadn’t eaten all day. So, after filling her gas tank at the nearest convenience store, she decided to step over to the Emerald Gulf Café for lunch.
Structured in the image of a nineteenth century log cabin, the Emerald Gulf was the ideal meeting place for business people from every corner of the city. For the past fifteen years, dreamers, moguls and entrepreneurs made record-breaking deals while enjoying the finest southern cuisine in the Tri-state area. Eleanor had never visited the eatery, but her relatives had a lot to say about it the last time they were all together. She’d been looking forward to the experience.
The atmosphere inside was a welcome contrast to the chilly overcast conditions she’d endured since daybreak. The aroma of sizzling steaks, fried chicken, steamed shrimp and the freshest homegrown vegetables in the south was alluring.
After the way her family extolled the café, Eleanor expected the place to be packed, but only a few of the button tuft back booths were occupied.
Although the four brawny gentlemen in three-piece suits were clearly embroiled in an intense conversation, they managed to keep a lid on their emotions. The impeccably dressed elderly ladies near the kitchen door were discussing a television movie that aired earlier during the week. She wasn’t about to intrude upon the scruffy roughnecks on the other side of the room. Nevertheless, as enchanting waitresses in black vests and crimson bow ties hurriedly endeavored to prepare the buffet, the enamored spectator made her way to a corner table in the rear.
Peering out the window at the busy overpass a half-mile away, Eleanor recalled how awkward she used to feel on school outings when she had to dine in the presence of vindictive classmates with no regard for the feelings of anyone they considered an outsider. In those days, the self-conscious stripling wasn’t cognizant of the machinations employed by insecure menaces who thought exploiting the foibles of their enemies made them superior. That kind of maltreatment can take a devastating toll on a young woman’s psyche. Despite all she’d accomplished, the impact of such experiences weighed heavily upon her heart.
Through the eyes of the casual observer, Eleanor had no reason to feel subservient to anyone. The shapely redhead with the side-parted fluffy layered bob bore little resemblance to the pensive pariah who couldn’t understand why she wasn’t valued by her contemporaries. Those Amanda Classic straight jeans and Softshell Long jacket adorned her curvaceous frame like a work of art. Her pearly white smile was practically luminous. It didn’t take a lot of makeup to bring out the best of that face. She was bright and confident. In spite of all the hardships that had threatened to destroy her, this steadfast survivor was still alive and well.
Eleanor reached into her Daino shoulder bag for the digital pocket watch on her keychain and checked the time. It was ten minutes past noon and the anticipated lunch crowd had yet to arrive. Considering what she’d been told about the establishment the perceptive widow was beginning to feel uneasy.
The perplexed patron’s instincts were sufficiently on guard, but she didn’t have the full story. True, this was an unusual day, but there was nothing sinister going on behind the scenes.
For eleven prosperous years, the Emerald Gulf Café had catered to the needs of a shrewd and mercurial clientele, until a brash young entrepreneur added the eatery to her thriving economic empire.
When Kara Bowden assumed ownership of the most eccentric restaurant in the Florida Panhandle, she was a former beauty queen with a brilliant mind and an ego the size of Jacksonville. After competing in the Miss Florida pageant, the fourth runner-up earned a business degree from the University of Florida. She married a wealthy architect named Sam Crawford and served on the boards of several successful companies. The beguiling enterpriser enjoyed the respect of politicians and civic leaders throughout the state. In fact, she and her husband were hailed as Emerald Gulf’s favorite power couple. They seemed to be on a remarkable journey that had no end. Kara believed the world was theirs for the taking. Tragically, financial disaster has never been a respecter of persons.
In less than a year after the birth of her only daughter, Kara’s husband was critically injured in an automobile accident. Sam spent three years in a coma before passing away at the age of 54.
Devastated by the loss, the grieving widow fell into a depression that nearly resulted in the taking of her own life. Bills kept mounting and the wolves at the door pursued her with a passion. Nevertheless, Kara was a fighter who recognized her obligation to her child. So, after selling what she could to keep her head above water, she signed the café over to her sister and continued to make a living as one of the employees. With what was left of Sam’s life insurance settlement and a weekly paycheck from the eatery, she managed to get by.
The tragedies in Kara’s life had taken more than an emotional toll on the fallen businesswoman. The energetic gait that once graced the stages of pageants all over the Wiregrass Area had lost its pep. She rarely bothered to color the streaks of gray in her silky blond ponytail anymore. The bags beneath her somber blue eyes were the result of long sleepless nights. The forty-five-year-old former socialite was now a disillusioned working stiff who’d experienced more than her share of life’s disappointments. She was also the poor little rich girl who made Eleanor’s high school years a living nightmare.
When Kara approached the table to take her order, Eleanor immediately recognized her old nemesis. Her hands trembled as she struggled to stifle her contempt. The snobby princess who used to think she owned the moon and stars had been reduced to slinging hash in a glorified greasy spoon. Who could’ve guessed?
“What would you like to drink?” Kara asked, reaching into the pocket of her apron for a pad and pen.
“Lemonade,” Eleanor replied with a vindictive sneer. “This is my first visit to your restaurant. My family loves this place.”
“We’ve been around awhile. Would you prefer a menu or the buffet?”
“I haven’t decided yet, Kara.”
“The startled waitress took a serious look at Eleanor. “Do we know each other?” she asked.
“Aren’t you Kara Lipton?” Eleanor enquired.
“Lipton is my maiden name. But I don’t remember ever meeting you.”
“I’m not surprised. You must’ve met a lot of people in your time. I’m sure many of them wish they could forget you.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Ah, come on, princess. You must remember how skilled you were at stripping a chick of every shred of human dignity she possessed.”
Kara lowered her head in shame. “It’s true,” she conceded. “I did a lot of things I’m not proud of when I was young. If you’re one of the people I wronged, I apologize.”
“I’m Eleanor Geary,” her wounded victim declared. “My maiden name is Colburn. We went to high school together.”
“I’m sorry. I just can’t place you. I’ve had a few tough years. Everything behind me isn’t quite so clear.”
“Are you kidding me? After all the insults, pranks and bullying; you’re telling me you don’t remember?”
“I’ve come close to losing everything in a very short time. I can appreciate the hurt I’ve inflicted upon others and I’m sorry for it.”
“You should be,” Eleanor responded, rising from her seat. “You need to know how it feels to be scared and alone. As far as I’m concerned, you’re getting just what you deserve.”
The women weren’t yelling, but they were beginning to attract attention. Kara didn’t want to make a scene.
“Please keep your voice down,” the embarrassed waitress requested.
“What’s the matter, Kara? Are you afraid your friends won’t leave you a nice tip? Maybe I should let them know just what kind of broad you really are.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to admit what you did to me. You had everything and you treated people like dirt. You’re a two-faced witch and I hope you keep on suffering!”
Kara covered her mouth with her hand. “I’d go back and change things if I could,” she said. “I’ve learned a lot about the pain that can ruin a human life. But I still can’t understand why you are doing this to me.”
Eleanor was about to quote chapter and verse of the infractions Kara had committed against her, when she happened to look out the window at an approaching 1959 Thunderbird. She only knew one person who drove a vintage hard top.
Kelly Garner was a thirty-year-old millionaire who’d made his fortune managing the careers of talented entertainers in the Dallas-Fort Worth area. The product of a single-parent home, the lanky introvert grew up poor and disparaged. As a result, he worked tirelessly to maintain the affluent standard of living he’d always desired. Despite the pitfalls of a life devoted to accumulating wealth, the disadvantages of his impoverished upbringing had afforded him insight into matters many of his peers had chosen to ignore. The munificent altruist gave generously to the needy and he never forgot that money didn’t give him the right to mistreat the less fortunate. He was the kind of significant other a woman like Eleanor should have appreciated. Unfortunately, there were often times when the complicated widow wasn’t capable of seeing what was standing right in front of her.
As Kelly pulled into the parking lot, Eleanor exited the café and approached him. Her emotions were securely tucked away behind a stolid barrier of tempered indifference. Though many women would’ve been overjoyed to greet her solicitous young suitor, she just stood motionlessly and watched him step out of the crimson red vehicle.
All decked out in his Two-Button regular fit pinstriped suit and Dandelion Venetian loafers, the handsome magnate smiled when he caught site of Eleanor. “I didn’t know you’d left until yesterday,” he said, running his fingers through his frosted quiff with tapered sides. “It’s a bit chillier than I anticipated.”
“What are you doing here, Kelly?” Eleanor asked, raising her hands to reject his embrace.
“You told me you were coming home to visit your family before all of you headed up to New York to watch your brother perform.”
“I don’t remember inviting you. How did you know where to find me?”
“I didn’t…Your cousin told me about this café the last time your relatives came to Texas. I was intrigued by the log cabin design. So, I thought I’d drop in and have a look.”
“But why did you follow me to Florida?”
“Because I want to be with you, Eleanor. I’ve met everyone in your family except your father. Now I think it’s time for him to have a look at the man in your life.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I want to let him know how we feel about each other.”
Eleanor looked toward the sky and sighed. “How do we feel about each other?” she asked.
Kelly looked bewildered. “How can you ask me that?” he responded. “Have you been unconscious these past eight months?” I’ve shared secrets with you my parents don’t even know. I love you, Eleanor. I thought you felt the same way.”
“I should’ve seen this coming. Look, we’ve had a good time and shared a few laughs, but that’s no reason to blow everything out of proportion.”
“I don’t understand. Are you telling me the time we spent together meant nothing to you?”
“What did you expect, Kelly?”
“I expected to spend the rest of my life with you.
Eleanor clutched her forehead. “I’ve been married,” she said. “My late husband was a wonderful man who’d do anything to make me happy. I wanted to be the kind of wife he deserved, but something was missing. It wasn’t his fault. He was a hopeless romantic who loved poetry, art and music. Like you, he used his money to help others. I just don’t know where I went wrong.”
“This isn’t the first conversation we’ve had about your late husband,” Kelly told her. “I don’t know what makes you fear relationships, but you’ve been around me long enough to know what kind of man I am. You’ve often mentioned the way you were treated in high school and no one can deny the pain you suffered before your sobriety. Yet, you frequently cut the conversation short when the subject of your father came up. I can’t begin to imagine all you’re going through, but I would like to help. Don’t drive me away. We can face your fears together.”
For most of her life, Eleanor had yearned to hear her father reach out to her with that kind of warmth. Nevertheless, there was no way to predict whether or not this sensitive young dreamer would continue to love her over the years. So, she put her arms around him. “You are a loyal and loving man,” she said. “And I believe you’d do everything possible to demonstrate your devotion. But it takes two to make a relationship successful and I’m not sure I can be the kind of wife you need. I couldn’t bear to see the adoration in your eyes turn to hate. So, why don’t we just end it here?”
Kelly kissed her on the cheek. “If you only knew how willing I am to stand by your side and help you through this,” he said, as he returned to his car and opened the driver’s side door. “You’re a special lady, Eleanor Geary. And if you ever change your mind, give me a call.”
Letting Kelly go wasn’t easy. Eleanor realized she might have just said goodbye to the only man who could’ve made her happy. Watching him drive away, she wondered what made her derail every opportunity for love that came her way. She began to evaluate her exchange with Kara. Had she allowed a juvenile hunger for vengeance to cloud her judgment? After all, she was now an adult. It wasn’t reasonable to keep lugging around that tired old ball and chain forever. Perhaps it was time to bury the hatchet and make peace with her childhood nemesis.
When Eleanor went back inside and returned to her table there was no sign of Cassidy. The repentant redresser didn’t want to leave without expressing her regrets, but she was beginning to feel anxious. So, she stepped into the ladies’ room to splash a little water on her face.
There was no one in the bathroom, but Eleanor was certain she heard voices. As she approached the vent on the far wall, the feeble drone became more audible.
It was Kara. “I can’t believe the way that broad ambushed me!” she lamented. “She wouldn’t let me explain. You know how hard I’ve worked to change. I’m not the arrogant viper I used to be. I’m ashamed of my past. Now, this Colburn woman says I hurt her too. I just wish I could remember.”
“Eleanor Colburn was a real piece of work,” the other woman said. “Nobody liked that oversized trollop. The pathetic cow never got invited to any parties. She didn’t even go to the prom. No decent guy wanted to be seen with her. She comes from the trash heap. I passed by her house once. It was just a step above squalor. So, you don’t have to worry about anything she has to say. She was a pig in high school and she’s still a pig.”
The winds of contrition had changed directions and the storm brewing in Eleanor’s head was bent on wreaking havoc. Within the span of a heartbeat, the olive branch she’d intended to lay at Kara’s feet had withered and died. Every utterance from the mouth of that unseen traducer felt like an arrow to the heart. The target of those malicious affronts was no longer interested in turning the other cheek. She left the café with every confidence that people like Kara would get what they deserved.
On the drive to her parents’ home, Eleanor’s heart was filled with rage and contempt. After all the obstacles she’d overcome, allowing the vindictive rantings of an ignorant spoiler to devastate her world was preposterous. Nevertheless, when it came to Kara’s trespasses against her, the middle-aged recovering alcoholic couldn’t seem to find a way to take the high road.
If Eleanor’s parents had moved to the house on Mortimer Street when she was still in school, Kara’s catty comforter might’ve had a more favorable opinion of the tormented outcast’s significance to humanity. Surrounded by a twelve-acre tract of beautifully manicured Bermuda grass, the Craftsman Style home with its low-pitched roof, front porch and tapered columns was the envy of the neighborhood. Rather than the usual exterior features such as wood siding or stucco, the two-story show place was constructed with Fly Ash clay bricks. An open floor plan with built-in cabinetry, a fireplace and natural wood finish was a far cry from the six-room shanty the eldest Colburn children endured until they were old enough to live on their own.
The garden Eleanor’s mother faithfully tended was replete with Lantana, Bougainvillea, and Egyptian Star flowers. An enormous metal shelter in the rear accommodated vehicles that couldn’t be parked in the three-car garage. Like most family homes, the Colburn residence was a refuge from the day-to-day struggles of a world gone mad. Regrettably, when it came to embracing and expressing their views, this family could be as unrelenting as the lunatics they wanted to escape.
By the time Eleanor pulled into the pavestone driveway, the hour was late and everyone was prepared for bed. Although the anticipated reunion was cut short, her relatives were overjoyed to see her.
The next morning, Eleanor was awakened by the sound of birds singing outside her bedroom window. She couldn’t believe it was almost noon. Nothing could beat the feeling of serenity she felt being back in Emerald Gulf. Despite all she’d experienced in the past few days, it sure was good to be home.
The Colburns hadn’t made any remarkable changes to the room since the last time their eldest child paid them a visit. The Fontainebleau dresser the munificent spender gave them for their thirtieth wedding anniversary hadn’t lost its sparkle. As Eleanor got out of bed and slipped on her Turkish Cotton Piped robe, she gazed at the photo atop the Morand bedside chest. The handsome Marine in his dress blue uniform was her favorite uncle, Major Paul Colburn. The children on his lap were his son, Cliff, and his daughter, Nora. They came to live with their aunt and uncle when the Major was killed in the Middle-East. Memories spent with those relatives were never far from Eleanor’s heart.
Eleanor walked across the burgundy plush carpet and sat down on the Isabella vanity seat near the window. Glancing out at the quiet street, she remembered mild summer days when she would walk her brother, Lincoln, to the local park. Back then, the two of them were inseparable and the treacherous forces of an angry world hadn’t convinced them that they couldn’t trust each other. So much had changed. Yet, Eleanor didn’t want her brother to ever forget how much she loved him.
Lincoln’s high school years were quite different from Eleanor’s. His sinewy frame and powerful long legs allowed him to excel in a variety of sports. In fact, he was very popular. Those dreamy brown eyes and loose pompadour haircut attracted the attention of precocious young girls who wanted to attend the prom on the star athlete’s arm. In spite of the family’s financial struggles, he managed to make it to college. For the past fifteen years, the forty-year-old builder had worked diligently to sustain his own construction business. He was a phenomenal success, until the day a life-altering accident changed everything.
Eleanor lowered her head when her brother entered the room dressed in a navy-blue suit and maneuvering a wheelchair. She was aware of the fall he’d suffered a little more than a month earlier, but the two of them hadn’t spoken in months and the ambivalent sibling didn’t know what to expect. She couldn’t believe the endearing expression on his face. There was a time when the most important pursuits in the towering heartthrob’s life were fancy cars and shallow beauties. He’d clearly undergone an incredible transformation. They’d been apart too long. It was time to mend some fences.
“Welcome home, sis,” Lincoln declared with open arms. “I’m sorry I wasn’t awake to greet you last night, but my medication knocks me out in a hurry.”
“Lincoln,” Eleanor whispered, as they embraced. “It has been too long.”
“A lot has changed since the last time we were together. I regret missing Langston’s funeral.”
“You were building your business. That takes a lot of work.”
“That’s the excuse I used to justify my selfishness. I put business and money ahead of my family. I should’ve been there for you. I can’t change the past, but I’m going to do everything I can to show all of you how much you mean to me. Fancy cars and gorgeous women won’t fill an empty heart.”
Eleanor sat down on the bed and looked intently at her brother. “You’ve done some serious soul-searching,” she observed.
Lincoln wheeled himself over to the Belmont Large nightstand and took note of the photograph of Eleanor in her elementary school play. “Do you remember that night?” he asked.
“The play was called The Damsel’s Music Box. I was so nervous.”
“You really wanted to become an actress.”
“I did back then, but everything changed in high school.”
“I’m sorry, Eleanor. I know you didn’t have it easy in those days.”
“I’ve never understood why some people think it’s alright to ostracize someone for the size of his or her body. Even a few adults saw nothing wrong with making fun of an overweight teenager.”
“Things like that shouldn’t happen. They can leave a mark that never goes away. But, in spite of everything, you’ve overcome so many obstacles and you are still standing. I call that something to be proud of.”
“One of those obstacles was my addiction to drugs. I wasn’t very nice to you or anyone else who tried to help me. Even after getting clean, I had to struggle with feelings of anger and guilt. I don’t know why Langston put up with me. He was such a loving man, but I just couldn’t fully open up my heart to him.”
Lincoln placed his hand to his chin and sighed. “The road to recovery isn’t easy for anyone,” he said. “But your problems with emotional intimacy are rooted in a much deeper source.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Our father is an honorable man who did the best he could to bring us up, but we both know he’s never been able to share his feelings. We both know he came from a family that considered that kind of emotional expression to be weakness. Now don’t get me wrong. I believe he loves us. Yet, he never realized how much we needed to hear him say it. When you left for Hollywood, he should’ve let you know how much you meant to him. The old man just couldn’t overcome his pride.”
“I can still remember how angry he was. He didn’t come to the bus station to see me off. I’ll never forget the look on Mom’s face as she stood in the rain, clutching her umbrella. Will this family ever heal?”
“Well, we seem to be on the right track.”
“How so?”
“The old Chief has been out of the Navy for a while now. He’s become more reasonable than you remember. In fact, we’ve had some very interesting conversations. Though he still has a ways to go, he’s more willing to listen to someone else’s point of view. I can’t believe how much he’s mellowed through the years. Give him a chance, Eleanor. You just might see a different side of our father.”
“I’d give anything for that.”
Lincoln noticed his sister looking at the painting on the wall. It was a portrait of their younger brother, Wilson. “Can you believe that kid?” he asked. “He’s an understudy in a Broadway play who’ll be making his debut on the big stage next month.”
“He’s got it all,” Eleanor said with a smile. “It took a lot of hard work and unyielding faith, but he made it.”
“I wish I could be there to see him take his bows.”
“Aren’t you coming with us to New York?”
“I don’t want to spoil the trip for everyone. I’m going to be in this chair for at least another year. I can dress myself and maintain my personal hygiene, but it takes me so long. Go on up to the Big Apple and have a good time. I’ll be fine right here.”
Realizing there was nothing she could say to change her brother’s mind, Eleanor went to the window and took another look outside. “It’s getting pretty dark out there,” she said. “I can’t believe how chilly it was yesterday. I never thought I’d have to wear a windbreaker in August.”
“Have you forgotten how fickle Panhandle weather can get?” Lincoln asked. “You have to be prepared for anything. At least it’s warm today. I just hope it doesn’t rain before I get back.”
“By the way, why are you so decked out?”
Her ambivalent brother cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. “I’m going to a benefit for a hometown girl who’s having financial troubles.”
“Who?”
“Kara Bowden.”
An expression of sheer rancor swept over Eleanor’s face. She began pacing and breathing heavily. Gritting her teeth and running her fingers through her hair, the former high school pariah remembered every cruel act her adolescent bully ever committed against her. “How could you do anything for that useless tramp?” she asked him.
“Eleanor!”
“Don’t you dare attempt to chide me? You weren’t there. You don’t know what that monster and her troop of Amazons did to me.”
“You’re right. I wasn’t there, but I thought you’d learn to put those days into perspective. It was so long ago.”
“I know. I’d made up my mind to have a talk with Kara. But when I heard her friend spouting those insults, it all came rushing back. That slimy heifer talked about me like I was from another planet. As far as I’m concerned, a little time in the poorhouse would do the twisted diva a world of good.”
“I don’t understand this at all. You’ve overcome an addiction to drugs and alcohol. You are cherished by some of the most distinguished members of Dallas society. You were poised to give Dad another chance. Why can’t you just let your feud with Kara die on the vine?”
“I know I should. I’ve even made serious efforts to forgive her. But what I can’t understand is why you would lift a finger to help the beast that treated your sister so badly.”
“Since I’ve been confined to this chair, I’ve taken stock of my life. Holding on to old grudges and wishing something terrible would happen to my enemies makes me weak. The real victory lies in letting go of those feelings. Forgiving others brings peace. The reason I’m helping Kara involves something you don’t understand. Just let me explain.”
“No!” Eleanor demanded. There’s nothing you can tell me about that woman. She’s getting what she deserves. There’s no misery too severe for her.”
Lincoln wheeled his chair around and prepared to leave. “You’re going to be sorry you said that,” he told her, shaking his head, as he exited the room.
When Lincoln closed the front door on his way out, Eleanor was disturbed by a tempered drone that seemed to emanate from the other side of the house. Faltering down the hall, the disquieted prober realized her brother had left the stereo in his bedroom playing. She’d almost reached the doorway, when she heard local DJ Phox Thurman mention Kara’s name.
“I’ll be back with more details about this afternoon’s benefit,” Thurman said. “Right now, let’s hear a word or two from our sponsors.”
From the window, Eleanor watched Lincoln’s van pull out of the driveway, as a sudden downpour saturated the pavement. Remembering how her brother tried to reason with her, the anxious ruminator dreaded every conceivable reality the radio could possibly reveal. With a heavy heart, she sat down on the bed and waited for the last commercial to end.
“WKJL Radio,” the somber announcer said. “This is Phox Thurman back on the air for my final hour of the day. As promised, I’d like to fill you in on the gathering that should be getting underway about a half-hour from now. Citizens of Emerald Gulf are well-acquainted with the plight of Kara Bowden. Those of us who’ve been around awhile can never forget what Kara and her late husband, Sam, have done for this community. Now, it’s time for us to do what we can for them. By now, we’re all aware of the battle Kara’s seventeen-year-old daughter, Taylor, is waging with Stage 4 Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. The young woman isn’t expected to make it and as you can imagine, the family is really going through a lot these days. Everyone can’t make a large donation, but your love and prayers are deeply appreciated. This is Phox Thurman. I’ll be seeing you later on this afternoon.”
Eleanor could hardly believe what she’d just heard. Stranded in a mire of childish resentment, a wounded soul who should’ve known better, betrayed the wisdom and maturity that had guided her path for so many years. After all the recovering alcoholic had done to embrace the healing power of forgiveness, giving in to a moment of self-serving vengeance had taken her lower than she’d sunk in a very long time.
The journey ahead of Kara was painful and daunting. Although the transgressions the compunctious nemesis committed as a teenager hadn’t been forgotten, the death of her child was something none of her former classmates would have wished upon her.
Relieved she didn’t have time to confront the grieving mother after hearing what her vindictive companion said at the café, the mortified heiress regretted the rancorous manner in which she’d behaved and she yearned for the day when the two of them could set matters straight. There was no way to determine how long she’d have to wait. So, for the moment, all Eleanor could do was bow her head and cry.
M.C. BECHUM
HOLLOW VICTORIES(MC BECHUM)
HOLLOW VICTORIES
For some people, an inordinate amount of wealth can be a refuge from the anguish and disappointment that plagues a considerable portion of the human race. The adoration and respect that are ceremoniously heaped upon the rich can foster a sense of security that makes the miseries of the downtrodden seem worlds away. While no one should deny man’s inherent desire for personal fulfillment, there are certain realities that cannot be dismissed. An individual who attempts to hide behind a wall of opulent complacency could find himself grappling with the dark and virulent tendencies of a disaffected heart.
Eleanor Geary was convinced she’d defeated the demons of her past. After a lonely and disillusioned childhood, the socially awkward romantic boarded a bus to California with the dream of becoming a Hollywood actress. Even though she managed to keep her head above water for a while, years of knocking on doors garnered little more than demeaning bit parts and cheesy commercials. Ardent attempts to attract the attention of talent scouts and studio heads resulted in numerous disappointments. As time passed, homelessness and hunger compelled her to seek refuge in the arms of treacherous men with evil intentions. Eventually, she succumbed to the lure of drugs and alcohol. In less than ten years, a vibrant young woman who came to Tinseltown with stars in her eyes had spiraled into an abysmal pit of unattainable goals and disavowed opportunities.
When she hit rock bottom, Eleanor took stock of her existence and reached out to a community program that set her on the path to a better life. By the age of thirty, the recovering addict was making every effort to remain clean and sober. Around that time, she met and married a Texas oil tycoon named Langston Geary. The two of them enjoyed a cordial and comfortable relationship until Preston’s death seven years later.
Driving down Interstate 10 on a dark rainy morning was hardly the time for esoteric introspection, but Eleanor couldn’t suppress the poignant reminders of a world she’d fought so hard to leave behind. She was now a wealthy widow with the means to accomplish anything she desired. Nevertheless, there was no denying that every selfish act had been a prelude to calamity. So, realizing the importance of living in the present, this accomplished survivor resolved to return to her hometown with a renewed sense of purpose and discard the ancillary emotions that would only leave her floundering in a mire of self-defeating spite.
Although Eleanor’s family visited her in Texas when her husband died, the sanguine dreamer hadn’t cruised the streets of Emerald Gulf, Florida since leaving home two decades ago. As she drove past recently constructed luxury hotels, burger joints, nightclubs and shopping malls, the sentimental ponderer remembered brisk afternoons spent playing video games at Bobby’s Arcade. Back then, Bobby Pearlman and his wife, Julia, helped a chubby teenage girl realize the world’s superficial view of beauty couldn’t hold a candle to a forgiving nature and a loving heart. She’d always appreciated the time and compassion the Pearlman’s shared with her. Though she was well aware her friends had retired and moved to Miami, Eleanor was looking forward to having a look at the little white building that held so many special memories for her. Unfortunately, when she entered the parking lot of the Lafayette Plaza, the anticipating hometown girl discovered the structure had been demolished.
Adolescence was a moment in time the sophisticated heiress in the Sacramento green Cadillac had spent years endeavoring to forget. Thanks to the kindness of adults like the Pearlmans, Eleanor learned to view the world around her through a more seasoned pair of eyes. Now in her mid-forties, the resolute conqueror believed she’d stood up to life’s adversities and weathered the deadliest storms. As far as she was concerned, the best was yet to come. Of course, there was no way to determine what would happen when she found herself face to face with the source of all her teenage nightmares.
It had been a long drive from Texas and Eleanor hadn’t eaten all day. So, after filling her gas tank at the nearest convenience store, she decided to step over to the Emerald Gulf Café for lunch.
Structured in the image of a nineteenth century log cabin, the Emerald Gulf was the ideal meeting place for business people from every corner of the city. For the past fifteen years, dreamers, moguls and entrepreneurs made record-breaking deals while enjoying the finest southern cuisine in the Tri-state area. Eleanor had never visited the eatery, but her relatives had a lot to say about it the last time they were all together. She’d been looking forward to the experience.
The atmosphere inside was a welcome contrast to the chilly overcast conditions she’d endured since daybreak. The aroma of sizzling steaks, fried chicken, steamed shrimp and the freshest homegrown vegetables in the south was alluring.
After the way her family extolled the café, Eleanor expected the place to be packed, but only a few of the button tuft back booths were occupied.
Although the four brawny gentlemen in three-piece suits were clearly embroiled in an intense conversation, they managed to keep a lid on their emotions. The impeccably dressed elderly ladies near the kitchen door were discussing a television movie that aired earlier during the week. She wasn’t about to intrude upon the scruffy roughnecks on the other side of the room. Nevertheless, as enchanting waitresses in black vests and crimson bow ties hurriedly endeavored to prepare the buffet, the enamored spectator made her way to a corner table in the rear.
Peering out the window at the busy overpass a half-mile away, Eleanor recalled how awkward she used to feel on school outings when she had to dine in the presence of vindictive classmates with no regard for the feelings of anyone they considered an outsider. In those days, the self-conscious stripling wasn’t cognizant of the machinations employed by insecure menaces who thought exploiting the foibles of their enemies made them superior. That kind of maltreatment can take a devastating toll on a young woman’s psyche. Despite all she’d accomplished, the impact of such experiences weighed heavily upon her heart.
Through the eyes of the casual observer, Eleanor had no reason to feel subservient to anyone. The shapely redhead with the side-parted fluffy layered bob bore little resemblance to the pensive pariah who couldn’t understand why she wasn’t valued by her contemporaries. Those Amanda Classic straight jeans and Softshell Long jacket adorned her curvaceous frame like a work of art. Her pearly white smile was practically luminous. It didn’t take a lot of makeup to bring out the best of that face. She was bright and confident. In spite of all the hardships that had threatened to destroy her, this steadfast survivor was still alive and well.
Eleanor reached into her Daino shoulder bag for the digital pocket watch on her keychain and checked the time. It was ten minutes past noon and the anticipated lunch crowd had yet to arrive. Considering what she’d been told about the establishment the perceptive widow was beginning to feel uneasy.
The perplexed patron’s instincts were sufficiently on guard, but she didn’t have the full story. True, this was an unusual day, but there was nothing sinister going on behind the scenes.
For eleven prosperous years, the Emerald Gulf Café had catered to the needs of a shrewd and mercurial clientele, until a brash young entrepreneur added the eatery to her thriving economic empire.
When Kara Bowden assumed ownership of the most eccentric restaurant in the Florida Panhandle, she was a former beauty queen with a brilliant mind and an ego the size of Jacksonville. After competing in the Miss Florida pageant, the fourth runner-up earned a business degree from the University of Florida. She married a wealthy architect named Sam Crawford and served on the boards of several successful companies. The beguiling enterpriser enjoyed the respect of politicians and civic leaders throughout the state. In fact, she and her husband were hailed as Emerald Gulf’s favorite power couple. They seemed to be on a remarkable journey that had no end. Kara believed the world was theirs for the taking. Tragically, financial disaster has never been a respecter of persons.
In less than a year after the birth of her only daughter, Kara’s husband was critically injured in an automobile accident. Sam spent three years in a coma before passing away at the age of 54.
Devastated by the loss, the grieving widow fell into a depression that nearly resulted in the taking of her own life. Bills kept mounting and the wolves at the door pursued her with a passion. Nevertheless, Kara was a fighter who recognized her obligation to her child. So, after selling what she could to keep her head above water, she signed the café over to her sister and continued to make a living as one of the employees. With what was left of Sam’s life insurance settlement and a weekly paycheck from the eatery, she managed to get by.
The tragedies in Kara’s life had taken more than an emotional toll on the fallen businesswoman. The energetic gait that once graced the stages of pageants all over the Wiregrass Area had lost its pep. She rarely bothered to color the streaks of gray in her silky blond ponytail anymore. The bags beneath her somber blue eyes were the result of long sleepless nights. The forty-five-year-old former socialite was now a disillusioned working stiff who’d experienced more than her share of life’s disappointments. She was also the poor little rich girl who made Eleanor’s high school years a living nightmare.
When Kara approached the table to take her order, Eleanor immediately recognized her old nemesis. Her hands trembled as she struggled to stifle her contempt. The snobby princess who used to think she owned the moon and stars had been reduced to slinging hash in a glorified greasy spoon. Who could’ve guessed?
“What would you like to drink?” Kara asked, reaching into the pocket of her apron for a pad and pen.
“Lemonade,” Eleanor replied with a vindictive sneer. “This is my first visit to your restaurant. My family loves this place.”
“We’ve been around awhile. Would you prefer a menu or the buffet?”
“I haven’t decided yet, Kara.”
“The startled waitress took a serious look at Eleanor. “Do we know each other?” she asked.
“Aren’t you Kara Lipton?” Eleanor enquired.
“Lipton is my maiden name. But I don’t remember ever meeting you.”
“I’m not surprised. You must’ve met a lot of people in your time. I’m sure many of them wish they could forget you.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Ah, come on, princess. You must remember how skilled you were at stripping a chick of every shred of human dignity she possessed.”
Kara lowered her head in shame. “It’s true,” she conceded. “I did a lot of things I’m not proud of when I was young. If you’re one of the people I wronged, I apologize.”
“I’m Eleanor Geary,” her wounded victim declared. “My maiden name is Colburn. We went to high school together.”
“I’m sorry. I just can’t place you. I’ve had a few tough years. Everything behind me isn’t quite so clear.”
“Are you kidding me? After all the insults, pranks and bullying; you’re telling me you don’t remember?”
“I’ve come close to losing everything in a very short time. I can appreciate the hurt I’ve inflicted upon others and I’m sorry for it.”
“You should be,” Eleanor responded, rising from her seat. “You need to know how it feels to be scared and alone. As far as I’m concerned, you’re getting just what you deserve.”
The women weren’t yelling, but they were beginning to attract attention. Kara didn’t want to make a scene.
“Please keep your voice down,” the embarrassed waitress requested.
“What’s the matter, Kara? Are you afraid your friends won’t leave you a nice tip? Maybe I should let them know just what kind of broad you really are.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to admit what you did to me. You had everything and you treated people like dirt. You’re a two-faced witch and I hope you keep on suffering!”
Kara covered her mouth with her hand. “I’d go back and change things if I could,” she said. “I’ve learned a lot about the pain that can ruin a human life. But I still can’t understand why you are doing this to me.”
Eleanor was about to quote chapter and verse of the infractions Kara had committed against her, when she happened to look out the window at an approaching 1959 Thunderbird. She only knew one person who drove a vintage hard top.
Kelly Garner was a thirty-year-old millionaire who’d made his fortune managing the careers of talented entertainers in the Dallas-Fort Worth area. The product of a single-parent home, the lanky introvert grew up poor and disparaged. As a result, he worked tirelessly to maintain the affluent standard of living he’d always desired. Despite the pitfalls of a life devoted to accumulating wealth, the disadvantages of his impoverished upbringing had afforded him insight into matters many of his peers had chosen to ignore. The munificent altruist gave generously to the needy and he never forgot that money didn’t give him the right to mistreat the less fortunate. He was the kind of significant other a woman like Eleanor should have appreciated. Unfortunately, there were often times when the complicated widow wasn’t capable of seeing what was standing right in front of her.
As Kelly pulled into the parking lot, Eleanor exited the café and approached him. Her emotions were securely tucked away behind a stolid barrier of tempered indifference. Though many women would’ve been overjoyed to greet her solicitous young suitor, she just stood motionlessly and watched him step out of the crimson red vehicle.
All decked out in his Two-Button regular fit pinstriped suit and Dandelion Venetian loafers, the handsome magnate smiled when he caught site of Eleanor. “I didn’t know you’d left until yesterday,” he said, running his fingers through his frosted quiff with tapered sides. “It’s a bit chillier than I anticipated.”
“What are you doing here, Kelly?” Eleanor asked, raising her hands to reject his embrace.
“You told me you were coming home to visit your family before all of you headed up to New York to watch your brother perform.”
“I don’t remember inviting you. How did you know where to find me?”
“I didn’t…Your cousin told me about this café the last time your relatives came to Texas. I was intrigued by the log cabin design. So, I thought I’d drop in and have a look.”
“But why did you follow me to Florida?”
“Because I want to be with you, Eleanor. I’ve met everyone in your family except your father. Now I think it’s time for him to have a look at the man in your life.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I want to let him know how we feel about each other.”
Eleanor looked toward the sky and sighed. “How do we feel about each other?” she asked.
Kelly looked bewildered. “How can you ask me that?” he responded. “Have you been unconscious these past eight months?” I’ve shared secrets with you my parents don’t even know. I love you, Eleanor. I thought you felt the same way.”
“I should’ve seen this coming. Look, we’ve had a good time and shared a few laughs, but that’s no reason to blow everything out of proportion.”
“I don’t understand. Are you telling me the time we spent together meant nothing to you?”
“What did you expect, Kelly?”
“I expected to spend the rest of my life with you.
Eleanor clutched her forehead. “I’ve been married,” she said. “My late husband was a wonderful man who’d do anything to make me happy. I wanted to be the kind of wife he deserved, but something was missing. It wasn’t his fault. He was a hopeless romantic who loved poetry, art and music. Like you, he used his money to help others. I just don’t know where I went wrong.”
“This isn’t the first conversation we’ve had about your late husband,” Kelly told her. “I don’t know what makes you fear relationships, but you’ve been around me long enough to know what kind of man I am. You’ve often mentioned the way you were treated in high school and no one can deny the pain you suffered before your sobriety. Yet, you frequently cut the conversation short when the subject of your father came up. I can’t begin to imagine all you’re going through, but I would like to help. Don’t drive me away. We can face your fears together.”
For most of her life, Eleanor had yearned to hear her father reach out to her with that kind of warmth. Nevertheless, there was no way to predict whether or not this sensitive young dreamer would continue to love her over the years. So, she put her arms around him. “You are a loyal and loving man,” she said. “And I believe you’d do everything possible to demonstrate your devotion. But it takes two to make a relationship successful and I’m not sure I can be the kind of wife you need. I couldn’t bear to see the adoration in your eyes turn to hate. So, why don’t we just end it here?”
Kelly kissed her on the cheek. “If you only knew how willing I am to stand by your side and help you through this,” he said, as he returned to his car and opened the driver’s side door. “You’re a special lady, Eleanor Geary. And if you ever change your mind, give me a call.”
Letting Kelly go wasn’t easy. Eleanor realized she might have just said goodbye to the only man who could’ve made her happy. Watching him drive away, she wondered what made her derail every opportunity for love that came her way. She began to evaluate her exchange with Kara. Had she allowed a juvenile hunger for vengeance to cloud her judgment? After all, she was now an adult. It wasn’t reasonable to keep lugging around that tired old ball and chain forever. Perhaps it was time to bury the hatchet and make peace with her childhood nemesis.
When Eleanor went back inside and returned to her table there was no sign of Cassidy. The repentant redresser didn’t want to leave without expressing her regrets, but she was beginning to feel anxious. So, she stepped into the ladies’ room to splash a little water on her face.
There was no one in the bathroom, but Eleanor was certain she heard voices. As she approached the vent on the far wall, the feeble drone became more audible.
It was Kara. “I can’t believe the way that broad ambushed me!” she lamented. “She wouldn’t let me explain. You know how hard I’ve worked to change. I’m not the arrogant viper I used to be. I’m ashamed of my past. Now, this Colburn woman says I hurt her too. I just wish I could remember.”
“Eleanor Colburn was a real piece of work,” the other woman said. “Nobody liked that oversized trollop. The pathetic cow never got invited to any parties. She didn’t even go to the prom. No decent guy wanted to be seen with her. She comes from the trash heap. I passed by her house once. It was just a step above squalor. So, you don’t have to worry about anything she has to say. She was a pig in high school and she’s still a pig.”
The winds of contrition had changed directions and the storm brewing in Eleanor’s head was bent on wreaking havoc. Within the span of a heartbeat, the olive branch she’d intended to lay at Kara’s feet had withered and died. Every utterance from the mouth of that unseen traducer felt like an arrow to the heart. The target of those malicious affronts was no longer interested in turning the other cheek. She left the café with every confidence that people like Kara would get what they deserved.
On the drive to her parents’ home, Eleanor’s heart was filled with rage and contempt. After all the obstacles she’d overcome, allowing the vindictive rantings of an ignorant spoiler to devastate her world was preposterous. Nevertheless, when it came to Kara’s trespasses against her, the middle-aged recovering alcoholic couldn’t seem to find a way to take the high road.
If Eleanor’s parents had moved to the house on Mortimer Street when she was still in school, Kara’s catty comforter might’ve had a more favorable opinion of the tormented outcast’s significance to humanity. Surrounded by a twelve-acre tract of beautifully manicured Bermuda grass, the Craftsman Style home with its low-pitched roof, front porch and tapered columns was the envy of the neighborhood. Rather than the usual exterior features such as wood siding or stucco, the two-story show place was constructed with Fly Ash clay bricks. An open floor plan with built-in cabinetry, a fireplace and natural wood finish was a far cry from the six-room shanty the eldest Colburn children endured until they were old enough to live on their own.
The garden Eleanor’s mother faithfully tended was replete with Lantana, Bougainvillea, and Egyptian Star flowers. An enormous metal shelter in the rear accommodated vehicles that couldn’t be parked in the three-car garage. Like most family homes, the Colburn residence was a refuge from the day-to-day struggles of a world gone mad. Regrettably, when it came to embracing and expressing their views, this family could be as unrelenting as the lunatics they wanted to escape.
By the time Eleanor pulled into the pavestone driveway, the hour was late and everyone was prepared for bed. Although the anticipated reunion was cut short, her relatives were overjoyed to see her.
The next morning, Eleanor was awakened by the sound of birds singing outside her bedroom window. She couldn’t believe it was almost noon. Nothing could beat the feeling of serenity she felt being back in Emerald Gulf. Despite all she’d experienced in the past few days, it sure was good to be home.
The Colburns hadn’t made any remarkable changes to the room since the last time their eldest child paid them a visit. The Fontainebleau dresser the munificent spender gave them for their thirtieth wedding anniversary hadn’t lost its sparkle. As Eleanor got out of bed and slipped on her Turkish Cotton Piped robe, she gazed at the photo atop the Morand bedside chest. The handsome Marine in his dress blue uniform was her favorite uncle, Major Paul Colburn. The children on his lap were his son, Cliff, and his daughter, Nora. They came to live with their aunt and uncle when the Major was killed in the Middle-East. Memories spent with those relatives were never far from Eleanor’s heart.
Eleanor walked across the burgundy plush carpet and sat down on the Isabella vanity seat near the window. Glancing out at the quiet street, she remembered mild summer days when she would walk her brother, Lincoln, to the local park. Back then, the two of them were inseparable and the treacherous forces of an angry world hadn’t convinced them that they couldn’t trust each other. So much had changed. Yet, Eleanor didn’t want her brother to ever forget how much she loved him.
Lincoln’s high school years were quite different from Eleanor’s. His sinewy frame and powerful long legs allowed him to excel in a variety of sports. In fact, he was very popular. Those dreamy brown eyes and loose pompadour haircut attracted the attention of precocious young girls who wanted to attend the prom on the star athlete’s arm. In spite of the family’s financial struggles, he managed to make it to college. For the past fifteen years, the forty-year-old builder had worked diligently to sustain his own construction business. He was a phenomenal success, until the day a life-altering accident changed everything.
Eleanor lowered her head when her brother entered the room dressed in a navy-blue suit and maneuvering a wheelchair. She was aware of the fall he’d suffered a little more than a month earlier, but the two of them hadn’t spoken in months and the ambivalent sibling didn’t know what to expect. She couldn’t believe the endearing expression on his face. There was a time when the most important pursuits in the towering heartthrob’s life were fancy cars and shallow beauties. He’d clearly undergone an incredible transformation. They’d been apart too long. It was time to mend some fences.
“Welcome home, sis,” Lincoln declared with open arms. “I’m sorry I wasn’t awake to greet you last night, but my medication knocks me out in a hurry.”
“Lincoln,” Eleanor whispered, as they embraced. “It has been too long.”
“A lot has changed since the last time we were together. I regret missing Langston’s funeral.”
“You were building your business. That takes a lot of work.”
“That’s the excuse I used to justify my selfishness. I put business and money ahead of my family. I should’ve been there for you. I can’t change the past, but I’m going to do everything I can to show all of you how much you mean to me. Fancy cars and gorgeous women won’t fill an empty heart.”
Eleanor sat down on the bed and looked intently at her brother. “You’ve done some serious soul-searching,” she observed.
Lincoln wheeled himself over to the Belmont Large nightstand and took note of the photograph of Eleanor in her elementary school play. “Do you remember that night?” he asked.
“The play was called The Damsel’s Music Box. I was so nervous.”
“You really wanted to become an actress.”
“I did back then, but everything changed in high school.”
“I’m sorry, Eleanor. I know you didn’t have it easy in those days.”
“I’ve never understood why some people think it’s alright to ostracize someone for the size of his or her body. Even a few adults saw nothing wrong with making fun of an overweight teenager.”
“Things like that shouldn’t happen. They can leave a mark that never goes away. But, in spite of everything, you’ve overcome so many obstacles and you are still standing. I call that something to be proud of.”
“One of those obstacles was my addiction to drugs. I wasn’t very nice to you or anyone else who tried to help me. Even after getting clean, I had to struggle with feelings of anger and guilt. I don’t know why Langston put up with me. He was such a loving man, but I just couldn’t fully open up my heart to him.”
Lincoln placed his hand to his chin and sighed. “The road to recovery isn’t easy for anyone,” he said. “But your problems with emotional intimacy are rooted in a much deeper source.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Our father is an honorable man who did the best he could to bring us up, but we both know he’s never been able to share his feelings. We both know he came from a family that considered that kind of emotional expression to be weakness. Now don’t get me wrong. I believe he loves us. Yet, he never realized how much we needed to hear him say it. When you left for Hollywood, he should’ve let you know how much you meant to him. The old man just couldn’t overcome his pride.”
“I can still remember how angry he was. He didn’t come to the bus station to see me off. I’ll never forget the look on Mom’s face as she stood in the rain, clutching her umbrella. Will this family ever heal?”
“Well, we seem to be on the right track.”
“How so?”
“The old Chief has been out of the Navy for a while now. He’s become more reasonable than you remember. In fact, we’ve had some very interesting conversations. Though he still has a ways to go, he’s more willing to listen to someone else’s point of view. I can’t believe how much he’s mellowed through the years. Give him a chance, Eleanor. You just might see a different side of our father.”
“I’d give anything for that.”
Lincoln noticed his sister looking at the painting on the wall. It was a portrait of their younger brother, Wilson. “Can you believe that kid?” he asked. “He’s an understudy in a Broadway play who’ll be making his debut on the big stage next month.”
“He’s got it all,” Eleanor said with a smile. “It took a lot of hard work and unyielding faith, but he made it.”
“I wish I could be there to see him take his bows.”
“Aren’t you coming with us to New York?”
“I don’t want to spoil the trip for everyone. I’m going to be in this chair for at least another year. I can dress myself and maintain my personal hygiene, but it takes me so long. Go on up to the Big Apple and have a good time. I’ll be fine right here.”
Realizing there was nothing she could say to change her brother’s mind, Eleanor went to the window and took another look outside. “It’s getting pretty dark out there,” she said. “I can’t believe how chilly it was yesterday. I never thought I’d have to wear a windbreaker in August.”
“Have you forgotten how fickle Panhandle weather can get?” Lincoln asked. “You have to be prepared for anything. At least it’s warm today. I just hope it doesn’t rain before I get back.”
“By the way, why are you so decked out?”
Her ambivalent brother cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. “I’m going to a benefit for a hometown girl who’s having financial troubles.”
“Who?”
“Kara Bowden.”
An expression of sheer rancor swept over Eleanor’s face. She began pacing and breathing heavily. Gritting her teeth and running her fingers through her hair, the former high school pariah remembered every cruel act her adolescent bully ever committed against her. “How could you do anything for that useless tramp?” she asked him.
“Eleanor!”
“Don’t you dare attempt to chide me? You weren’t there. You don’t know what that monster and her troop of Amazons did to me.”
“You’re right. I wasn’t there, but I thought you’d learn to put those days into perspective. It was so long ago.”
“I know. I’d made up my mind to have a talk with Kara. But when I heard her friend spouting those insults, it all came rushing back. That slimy heifer talked about me like I was from another planet. As far as I’m concerned, a little time in the poorhouse would do the twisted diva a world of good.”
“I don’t understand this at all. You’ve overcome an addiction to drugs and alcohol. You are cherished by some of the most distinguished members of Dallas society. You were poised to give Dad another chance. Why can’t you just let your feud with Kara die on the vine?”
“I know I should. I’ve even made serious efforts to forgive her. But what I can’t understand is why you would lift a finger to help the beast that treated your sister so badly.”
“Since I’ve been confined to this chair, I’ve taken stock of my life. Holding on to old grudges and wishing something terrible would happen to my enemies makes me weak. The real victory lies in letting go of those feelings. Forgiving others brings peace. The reason I’m helping Kara involves something you don’t understand. Just let me explain.”
“No!” Eleanor demanded. There’s nothing you can tell me about that woman. She’s getting what she deserves. There’s no misery too severe for her.”
Lincoln wheeled his chair around and prepared to leave. “You’re going to be sorry you said that,” he told her, shaking his head, as he exited the room.
When Lincoln closed the front door on his way out, Eleanor was disturbed by a tempered drone that seemed to emanate from the other side of the house. Faltering down the hall, the disquieted prober realized her brother had left the stereo in his bedroom playing. She’d almost reached the doorway, when she heard local DJ Phox Thurman mention Kara’s name.
“I’ll be back with more details about this afternoon’s benefit,” Thurman said. “Right now, let’s hear a word or two from our sponsors.”
From the window, Eleanor watched Lincoln’s van pull out of the driveway, as a sudden downpour saturated the pavement. Remembering how her brother tried to reason with her, the anxious ruminator dreaded every conceivable reality the radio could possibly reveal. With a heavy heart, she sat down on the bed and waited for the last commercial to end.
“WKJL Radio,” the somber announcer said. “This is Phox Thurman back on the air for my final hour of the day. As promised, I’d like to fill you in on the gathering that should be getting underway about a half-hour from now. Citizens of Emerald Gulf are well-acquainted with the plight of Kara Bowden. Those of us who’ve been around awhile can never forget what Kara and her late husband, Sam, have done for this community. Now, it’s time for us to do what we can for them. By now, we’re all aware of the battle Kara’s seventeen-year-old daughter, Taylor, is waging with Stage 4 Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. The young woman isn’t expected to make it and as you can imagine, the family is really going through a lot these days. Everyone can’t make a large donation, but your love and prayers are deeply appreciated. This is Phox Thurman. I’ll be seeing you later on this afternoon.”
Eleanor could hardly believe what she’d just heard. Stranded in a mire of childish resentment, a wounded soul who should’ve known better, betrayed the wisdom and maturity that had guided her path for so many years. After all the recovering alcoholic had done to embrace the healing power of forgiveness, giving in to a moment of self-serving vengeance had taken her lower than she’d sunk in a very long time.
The journey ahead of Kara was painful and daunting. Although the transgressions the compunctious nemesis committed as a teenager hadn’t been forgotten, the death of her child was something none of her former classmates would have wished upon her.
Relieved she didn’t have time to confront the grieving mother after hearing what her vindictive companion said at the café, the mortified heiress regretted the rancorous manner in which she’d behaved and she yearned for the day when the two of them could set matters straight. There was no way to determine how long she’d have to wait. So, for the moment, all Eleanor could do was bow her head and cry.
M.C. BECHUM
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