Chapter Seven in the serialized novel The Davies.

On Sunday, Kate and Beth acted like going to church was not optional so Kennedy got up, dressed and joined them on the walk into town. On the way, Beth explained the history of Coventry Parish and gave her a running commentary on the people she’d meet. “The pastor is Greg Carson. He and his wife have been here for several years. She is lovely, very involved in the community and so…” Her hand waved in the air before she seemed to give up on finding an adjective. “Mr. and Mrs. Peirce are our neighbors off to the South and they sit in our pew. William usually sits on the bachelor’s bench at the back if he attends. Sometimes he just waits for us outside. He comes over for Sunday lunch, you remember.”

She didn’t, but that was okay. She wasn’t thrilled about meeting someone new, but the aunties had said he was ‘like family’ so she had no business objecting.

“You can usually hear the entire service outside if the windows are open and there are benches under the oak beside the parking lot.” As Beth continued to give her background information on the parishioners as they walked through the historic downtown area. The houses all along this route were well-kept antiques from various eras. Colonials dominated, but there were a few Georgians and a few neat if small 19^th century farmhouses.

One house had a beautiful front garden, worthy of a magazine cover. A low, white picket fence surrounded the entire yard and rather than hide the beauty, it acted as support and backdrop. She, since Kennedy could only assume a woman did this, had layered her plantings for complementary color, form and size. Drifts of tiny snowy flowers gave way to short blue flowers which gave way to peonies and what looked like lilies about to bloom.

The house itself was white with green shutters and a large oak door. Clipped hedges lined the short driveway to give it a symmetrical and finished look. The overall effect was precision loveliness, and she shared that thought with the Aunties.

 “Ah yes. Martha spends hours on her garden. Mrs. Bettencourt that is.” Beth said nothing else which Kennedy thought was strange since she had offered, unsolicited, the backgrounds and personal details of half the town. “Oh look, here we are.” Beth pointed to the church across the street.

It sat just off the main road and was surrounded by a dirt and gravel parking lot and huge oak trees each ringed by benches. Sitting on one of them was a man with blonde hair in jeans and a button-down shirt, one leg crossed over the other. He looked to be in his late 20s, maybe early 30s. Kate waved to him, and he waved back. “That’s William.” She whispered to Kennedy.

They climbed up the short set of steps and into the building. The long wood pews were half filled with parishioners. Beth and Kate headed to a row only a few from the front and dead center on the pulpit. Kennedy would have preferred something to the back or either side, but this apparently was their pew. The organist began to play a prelude as more people filtered in.

The church was classic New England, all painted white with light blue walls to remind you of heaven. The pulpit was large and set on a small stage with an ornate, wood table in front of it, two silver candlesticks with lit candles on either side of a modest floral arrangement. The tall windows on either side of the room were open a few inches and a gentle breeze floated in. As they sat waiting for the service to start the Aunties smiled and waved at various people. A few were openly staring at Kennedy, their faces slightly scrunched as if doing the mental math on who the new girl was.

The pastor entered from a side door at the back of the church and climbed the steps to the pulpit. He was younger than she was expecting, probably in his 30s with brown hair and a pleasant face. He looked out into the congregation which was now closer to full than not. With a quiet ‘Good morning” he welcomed the crowd and began to read a verse from the Bible. Kennedy sat back and relaxed into his clear, steady voice.

The church service wasn’t long. Kate said that Pastor Carson kept it brief during the summer. The hymns were the highlight though. The church had a floor to ceiling organ and even more rare, an organist who had been with them for years to play it. When it was over they went downstairs to the church basement for ‘coffee hour’ which Beth explained was a chance for the parishioners to chat with each other.

Beth and Kate paraded her through the sea of families and old ladies they were intent on introducing her to. Their names all flew by until Mrs. Martha Bettencourt. Kate stopped her in front of a petite, kind looking woman with short brown hair gently going gray. She was dressed simply, but smartly in a cotton shirtdress so perfectly ironed she must have spent an hour on it.

“Martha,” Kate began. “Let me introduce my grandniece Kennedy Davies. Kennedy, this is Mrs. Martha Bettencourt.” Kennedy smiled at the woman, but she didn’t smile back. Her face remained neutral while her lips lifted slightly. Uh oh. Martha’s eyes swept over her in then gave her the once-over with an expression on her face that stayed pleasant but with a hint of disapproval and dismissal.

            “I’ve heard so much about you over the years.” Her words were nice, but there was no mistaking the slight frostiness. “Oh, I see someone over there I need to catch up with, please excuse me.” And with that, she turned on her heel and headed across the hall to a clutch of women chatting by the kitchen.

Kennedy almost laughed. She turned to Kate to ask what the heck was with Mrs. Martha Bettencourt when the expression on her great-aunt’s face stopped her. Whatever Martha had meant by her abrupt departure and her disapproving tone, she had just pissed off the person Kennedy would think least likely to take offense. Kate’s cheeks were pink and her hands in little fists. “So, I’m guessing we don’t like Mrs. Martha Bettencourt?”

            “No.” Kate said through clenched teeth. Slowly her shoulders relaxed, and she unclenched her hands. “No, it’s not that we don’t like her, it’s that she is not the easiest person to…” Kate had to pause again, take a little breath and then continue. “Let’s go gather up Beth and head home. It’s time I started on dinner. Will generally shows up by noon, so let’s say our goodbyes. We don’t set the table for him if you don’t mind. He feels more comfortable when we eat in the kitchen.”

Kennedy had no trouble believing that. The kitchen was close to being the most comfortable room in the house and the table there was big enough for six, although squeezy. Kate saw Beth off in a far corner in discussion with the pastor, so she grabbed Kennedy’s hand and steered her there. The pastor saw them approaching over Beth’s shoulder and gave her a smile.

“You don’t need to even introduce her Kate,” His tone was warm and friendly. “I know exactly who this is. Kennedy, we are glad to have you here and I hope you’re enjoying the great weather.” He held out his hand. Up close he looked barely thirty with blue eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. He was dressed simply in trousers and a button-down shirt and tie. Every priest or pastor she had seen before was in a suit.

“If you don’t mind, I’d love to introduce you to my wife.” He looked around for a moment and then motioned to someone a few feet away. Mrs. Carson was petite with long black wavy hair and an olive complexion. The short stylish dress she was wearing was an amazing shade of red and the strappy sandals with it were drool-worthy. Now she understood what Beth meant by that ambiguous wave of her arm, Mrs. Carson was fierce.

“Kennedy, let me introduce you to my wife, Mercedes.” He looked at his wife with such an open expression of love and admiration that Kennedy almost blushed.

            “Please call me Merci.” Mercedes said as she shook Kennedy’s hand. She had a pleasant voice, not high or squeaky and with a hint of an accent that suggested New York.  

“I’m pleased to meet you both.” Kennedy knew she should have gone on and said something else, but she was kind of burnt on small talk.

“You must be tired after having been introduced to half the town.” Merci laughed a little. “When you get the chance, I’d like to have you over for coffee some afternoon. Maybe a weekday when it’s a bit less crazy around here.”

            “I’d like that.” Kennedy surprised herself by saying that. It had been weeks since she had even met someone new, much less a room full of them and she wasn’t sure she was ready for this kind of social interaction. But it was too late to take it back.

She said goodbye to the pastor and his wife and headed outside to wait for the aunties to finish with their crowd of friends. Kennedy needed some air and some space around her not filled with smiling strangers. Outside the yard was full of people standing in little clusters or around the benches still talking. One pair of voices stuck out by whispering. They sounded like hissing geese. She would have walked on, but she heard her last name and stopped. The next words made her stomach clench.

“Do you remember them in high school?” one of the voices said. “Anna was in my grade and thought she was too good for public school. Meredith was right behind her and a total flirt. She dated half the football team.”

Anna and Meredith? Her mother’s sister was named Anna. She’d only met the woman twice. They’d visited them in New York where her aunt lived in a big brick house right in the city with her husband and children. At the time, she thought they were all a storybook come to life. Her cousin Ella, just a few years older than her, looked like a princess with her big blue eyes and blond hair. She remembered her Aunt Anna being a bit much, but nice. Her husband was short, round man with frizzy hair who kept bee hives on his roof. They were eccentric to say the least, but not bad.

“When Meredith came back from college, pregnant, with no man? Not a surprise.”

Kennedy almost gasped. Okay, so it wasn’t another Meredith. She’d been born in her mom’s senior year. And her parents hadn’t stayed together. Her mom never said much about her dad. She’d learned not to ask. These women though…

“Kate and Beth might be sweet, old ladies now, but don’t forget, they were even wilder. Kate was sleeping with her boss when she worked at that bank in Boston and Beth ran away to Greece. They say she married some foreign guy, but when she came home for the sister-in-law’s funeral, she started seeing Martin. No mention of the husband of course.” The woman huffed.

Kennedy stood there frozen. Aunt Beth had been married? Maybe this was only gossip.

“And Anna divorcing? How is that surprising? Then shipping her kids here so she could take off with her new man?” The other speaker made a comment that she couldn’t hear and then the voice she now recognized picked back up again. “Just like Kate, she didn’t even marry this one; they just ran off together after she left her husband. Not that they’d admit anything. Really, when you think about it? No wonder Ella turned out the way she did.”

The voice sighed. “Poor Will, he didn’t know what he was in for dating Ella. And now he’s here, the walking wounded. Still pining for her. It’s sad!”

Will and Ella dated? Her head was in a spin. She shouldn’t be listening to any of this. But, when they went on, she moved closer to hear the rest.

 “Well, Kennedy may look like she’s sweet and innocent, but let’s face it, Meredith ruined any chance that girl had of being normal. She moved from city to city, no father, no stability, who even knows what she had for an education. I’m not speaking ill of her. I mean, her death was so awful, but look at how she lived.”

Kennedy’s cheeks were on fire. These women were downright evil. With her heart pumping hard, she rounded the corner and spotted one of the women trashing her entire family. Martha Bettencourt. She stood with another middle-aged woman Kennedy had not met, heads close together, still talking.

Kennedy couldn’t care less if Martha was trashing her; she had spent her life being talked about.  That crap didn’t even move the needle for her, but she was not going to let her trash her mother. Meredith Davies had died taking a bullet for a stranger; she had died to save the life of some poor hapless girl who walked into the ultimate wrong place, wrong time moment. Her mother had bled to death on the floor of a miserable gas station store, and she would be damned if she was going to stand there and listen to a wretched, miserable old witch tear her apart.

She came to her senses and realized that while her head was whirling and her blood pounding, she had actually walked up to Martha and screamed all this right into her face. Martha’s expression was shocked and appalled, her companion was frozen in place staring at Kennedy with huge eyes and an open mouth. A general hush had fallen over the people gathered nearby. There probably wasn’t a soul within a mile who hadn’t heard her meltdown. All those lovely people she just met listened to her scream insults at the top of her lungs.

Kennedy turned and fled. There was a path right next to her, leading away from the church, behind the houses and into the woods. With her body focused on flight she took it not caring where it led. She might be headed back to Parker House or to the highway. She had no idea and she didn’t care. Escape was the only thing on her mind. She ran as the trees closed around her and all sound from the street was gone.

Sudden bursts of speed after months of sitting on one’s backside are a bad idea and soon Kennedy felt her chest burning from the exertion and had to slow to a walk.  Looking around she had no idea where she was, but it was beautiful. The light overhead gently filtered through the leaves and onto the path. After a few minutes the woods thinned out and she could see the backs of houses in the distance. She was caught between being happy that she wasn’t in the middle of nowhere and anxious about being seen.

There was a small, cement bench ahead and she sat down with her back to the houses, facing the wilderness. She didn’t feel guilty about telling off Mrs. Bettencourt, but she did for ruining the day, for embarrassing the aunties. Kennedy wanted to crawl into a hole. This whole move wasn’t a good idea from the start. She wasn’t ready for this, for human contact. Her soul was ragged and bloody and… Typical. Now she was crying. Letting the tears flow, she dug in her pocket for a tissue.

Footsteps sounded from down the path; fast ones, like someone was running. A man came into sight, slowing from a jog to a walk as he saw her. He waved as he walked to where she sat. Kennedy jumped to her feet to walk away.

“Wait.” He held up his hand. “Kate and Beth asked me to come get you.”

His face and shaggy blond hair looked familiar. “Will?”

He nodded and gave her a small smile. “I saw you run towards the path and since Kate and Beth don’t have their track shoes on today, I told them I’d come collect you.”

Fantastic. She thought. He had probably seen and heard the whole scene. She tried to say something clever but failed completely and sat back down on the bench. Maybe he would disappear if she waited long enough.

Will slowly walked the remaining distance and quietly sat on the bench next to her. When she realized, he was going to wait her out she looked up at him. “I’m sorry. I am a total mess. And this is all a mess.” She waved her hand back at where the church would be.

 “We don’t have to go back. This path leads right up to the pond at the back of your house. We can follow it and not see a soul.”

            “Oh, thank God.”

He chuckled and stood up, taking her hand and pulling her up with him. After they had walked on for a bit, he gave her hand a quick squeeze and let it go.

Will led her on through the woods for a few minutes and they came out just as he said, at the pond behind Parker House. Looking up the lawn at the house she couldn’t help but sigh. She didn’t want to go in and face the aunties. She was embarrassed, tired, harassed and…not up to it.

Will stood by her and waited. “You’re not the first person to tell Martha Bettencourt exactly what you think of her and what she has to say about someone you love.”

Kennedy turned to face him, but he was still facing the house. “It’s not the first time someone has shouted it nice and loud either. Don’t worry about Kate and Beth. They’re kind and forgiving souls. Give them a chance.” He walked up the hill, giving her a ‘let’s go’ nod over his shoulder. She took a deep breath and started up after him.

As Kennedy entered the kitchen, Kate looked up and wasted no time listening to Kennedy’s attempt at an apology. She folded her into her arms and said, “I am so sorry you had to hear all that. I am so sorry she hurt you. Please don’t listen to any of it. Your mother was a beautiful, kind, and strong woman. She spent her life serving others right up until her final moments on this earth. That is her legacy, not some rumors or gossip born of a grudge.” She stood Kennedy back and took a deep breath. “Now, we’re going to start dinner and we’ll make it sure it includes something that heals all wounds.”

            “Chicken soup?”

“Goodness no. That cures a cold. Chocolate is what heals all wounds my dear. We’ll make brownies and we’ll put in some chocolate chips for good measure. I’ve got a lovely quiche baking away. You can help Will do the salad and I’ll start on the desert.”

 Kennedy wasn’t sure brownies were going to take away the sting of having made an ass of herself in front of half the town, but she was willing to try one.

Will and Kennedy were chopping the veggies for the salad when Beth arrived. Her cheeks were a bit pink and she crooked a long finger at Kennedy, summoning her into the den. Kennedy stood there not sure if she was about to be told off or not. Beth’s expression was serious, but it gave nothing away.

“I had a talk with Martha” She began plainly. When Kennedy tried to interrupt, she held up her hand. “What happened today was unacceptable.”

Kennedy felt her stomach clench.

“But not because of your reaction, dramatic though it was.” She raised one brow. “Martha had no business running her mouth. This town has its share of difficult humans, but no one is predisposed to hate our family other than Martha and her cronies.”

            “What is her deal?” Kennedy asked, feeling a bit relieved to know that Beth didn’t blame her for screaming at Mrs. Bettencourt.

 “Her deal is with me.” Beth sighed as if she didn’t want to say it. “It was long ago, but that’s how grudges are. If you let them take root, you don’t even have to remember the slight itself, only that there was one.”

“Would you rather not tell me?” Kennedy was hoping the answer would be no. She’d like to know what Beth could have done to piss someone off for decades.

“Most of the time Martha and I coexist peaceably, but I think your arrival poked an old wound. Frankly, the woman needs to let it heal, but that would require forgiveness, and it appears she is not ready for that.”

            “Why me though?”

“Part of it is that despite our family having more than our share of heartache over the years, Martha feels that she is the only one who has had trials, the only one who has suffered. I hope that your very understandable reaction to her cruel words is a bit of an eye-opener for her. What’s done is done child.”

“But now everyone will think I’m a…” Kennedy paused, there were too many options.

Beth shook her head. “There are many people who have at some point stood in your shoes. You have their compassion, not their criticism. Take a deep breath and let this one go. Forgive yourself for losing your temper and you may find it easier to forgive Martha for her cruelty.”

            Kennedy took a breath and nodded. Beth pulled her into a hug, stroking her hair. Being touched and held broke through the iron control she was trying to keep on her emotions. For a second, she almost lost it, but she pulled back from the brink, gave Beth a watery smile and headed back to the kitchen.

After dinner they headed out into the garden for iced tea and brownies on the deck. Kennedy felt something close to peace surround ‘the incident’. She’d worried that the life she’d started to rebuild was coming crashing down around her, but now it felt like it was just one horrible day that she’d get over and one person she’d have to avoid.

Kate and Beth headed in when the mosquitoes began to descend with the dusk, but Will and Kennedy doused themselves in bug spray and talked until the stars came out. It was one of those everything and nothing conversations that happen after you meet someone in crazy circumstances. She found out he lived in a house on the marsh not far from there, and that he was from Tennessee and had served in the Army. He’d told her how he’d bought the bakery in town, but he didn’t mention Ella and she hadn’t pressed. They talked until night was falling in earnest when he got up to leave. As he was going, he turned to her and said with a surprising solemnness “I’d like to be your friend Kennedy.” She wondered if he was trying to protect her from thinking he might want to be more.

“I’m glad to have a friend, Will.” And she meant it. “I was worried that you might not want to be friends because of…” she trailed off.

            “You have the same smile.” He looked somewhat wistfully at her. “But it’s not going to undo me.”

Will turned to walk home by the path. How he was going to do that in the dark she had no idea, but she got the sense that Will was more comfortable alone than not. That much at least, she understood perfectly.

As always, thanks for reading! Chapter eight soon to follow!

Image credit: https://unsplash.com/@muhammadriz__