Restless Hope

Chapter 10

Beth

It's only an hour later, but I am already fed up with my family. Aunt Alice wisely slips into the den, locks the door, and packs alone. I wish I could do the same, but Mariah whines to me about the kids, and the children, mimicking their mother, whine to me about her. I am exhausted playing the role of referee, and meanwhile, the packing is going excruciatingly slow. 

So when the doorbell rings, I am grateful for the reprieve. I open it to see a tall man wearing blue slacks and a matching shirt.

"Can I help you?" I ask.

He looks down at his clipboard, then back up at me.

"Beth Elliott?"

"That's right."

"I need to ask you to leave the premises, ma'am," he says sternly, but his eyes seemed to laugh.

"What?" I say, utterly confused. He hands me a letter.

I open it and scan the contents. 

Dear Beth-

These men have been hired to pack your house and move you. Take your family out for a fun day and leave the work to them. Accept this small token of friendship as gratitude for the all that you have done for me and my family over the years. I hope it makes your life a bit easier.

Your friend,

David

P.S. Don't forget, party at my place tonight. No excuses now. :)

Looking up to thank the man, I realize he has already returned to his van. There are other men climbing out, three, no four men. They are already unloading their supplies and boxes.

It is far too generous of David to pay for this. I priced out what movers would cost when we first planned to move and choked on a kidney. I probably shouldn't accept it, but I'm already worn to a frazzle and there's no way I'm turning the help away.

I feel a small hand at my elbow.

"Aunt Beth?"

"What is it, honey?" I ask.

"Toby stole Isabelle and hid her somewhere. He won't tell me where." Isabelle is Olivia's Build-a-Bear—though technically it's a Build-a-Zebra wearing a bright orange tutu. Leave it to Olivia to be original.

David's timing couldn't be better.

"C'mon. We'll track Toby down, then we're going to the park. How does that sound?"

Olivia's eyes lit up.

"For real? We haven't been to the park in forever."

She still lisps, which was adorable when she was four; not so much to her teachers at twelve. She's been working with a speech therapist, but progress is slow.

I feel a little twinge at her words. Normally I am better at taking them to the park, but lately I've been so stressed by the move, it's completely escaped my mind. That might be part of the reason Toby and Olivia are at odds with each other.

Shutting the door, I gather everyone together (other than my father, who is "meditating" in his room) and tell them of our plan.

"Really, Beth. I wish you would have told me before promising the children," Mariah complains. "I know you. You'll try to make me feel guilty for not coming, but my head hurts far too much to go to the park. The last thing I need is a bunch of banshees running around yelling and making my migraine worse."

I see the children's crushed expressions and bite back a sharp response. It is possible she does truly have a headache, though I will never know for sure. I am fairly certain about half of her ailments are figments of her imagination, and a good portion of the remaining are self-induced. It's challenging to be patient with her sometimes.