she suggested they give it try, and it turned out to the grandest of all the grand hotels she’d experienced.
They had dinner at the hotel that night and while they lingered over Jameson-spiked coffee, Tom suggested they spend Wednesday touring the city and start for Alabama early Thursday morning. She’d said she needed to think about it, but the truth was she didn’t need to. She knew she wanted to stay.
On Wednesday they explored the city. They ate hot chicken at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant, visited the Grand Ole Opry, and sat squeezed together in one seat as they listened to undiscovered musicians at the Bluebird Café. That night Margaret went to bed with her heart heavy in her chest. For days she’d not thought of home, only of the adventures ahead of them, the thrill of finding her siblings and, yes, the fun of being with Tom. She’d let herself slide into the comfort of his arm around her shoulder. She’d even allowed him to sleep in her bed, and, worst of all, she’d enjoyed it. It had been wonderful but the places they’d gone and the people they’d seen had never met Albert, so they accepted Tom as her partner. Back in Heatherwood that would not be the case.
Was this to be her way of life? For each thing gained, there was something equally precious lost? She’d lost Albert and found Tom. She’d found Dewey and the others, now she would lose Tom. After Albert was first gone, lying there with only the black nights to bear witness, she’d thought of moving to another town and starting a new life, but even that came with losses. To start over she’d have to leave behind the friends she’d made, the shopkeepers who called her by name, the women in the library group, Josie.
Burying her face in the pillow, she sobbed. She mourned the love she’d lost and the love she was destined to never know.
On Thursday morning they were on the road before 8 am even though Tom figured it to be no more than a five- or six-hour drive. At breakfast that morning, Margaret didn’t finish her coffee and had nothing to eat.
“Are you feeling okay?” he asked; she responded with nothing more than a nod.
While the other days had flown by, this one seemed to stretch on forever as they drove in silence. When Tom said there was a road map for Alabama in the glove compartment and asked if she wanted to follow their route, she shook her head.
“We’ll get there when we get there,” she said.
When they finally arrived in Farstack, he had to practically coax her into going out for dinner. Even then she turned down a glass of wine and dessert. Twice he asked if he’d done something to make her angry or in some way offended her. She said no and blamed her moodiness on an upset stomach, but she saw the doubt in his eyes.
Later that night, when she was tossing and turning in a motel bed that was too soft in some spots and too hard in others, she thought back on something her mama had said not long after they returned to Coal Creek.
For weeks Margaret had been tearful about leaving Barrettsville. That afternoon she was sitting on the porch swing and feeling lower than a stomped-on worm when her mama came out and sat beside her. For a few minutes they sat there, saying nothing, just pushing back and forth together.
Finally her mama said, “I know how unhappy you are, Margaret Rose, but if you spend your days crying over what you’ve lost, you’ll forget the joy of ever having had it. There are kids in Coal Creek who have never even been to Charleston, and you’ve been all the way to Pennsylvania. You’ve lived in a beautiful home, discovered all kinds of treasures, ridden on a train. Imagine how lucky you are to have all those memories to hold on to.” She’d then turned Margaret’s face to hers. “But if you keep crying, you’ll become sadder and sadder until one day you won’t be able to remember all that happiness you once had.”
Thinking back on her mama’s words gave Margaret a measure of comfort. It didn’t change anything but reminded her that sometimes a memory is all you’re destined to keep.
By Friday morning Margaret had decided to turn these last few days into memories worth keeping. There would be time enough for feeling sad once she was back