Page 9 of Love in Mission City
I smothered the grin at Mary’s use of the word she’d just admonished Beverly for using.
“Then Charlie died.” Beverly tapped her chin with her index finger. “That had to be about twenty-five years ago. I think Henry was twenty. He’d finished high school, I remember that much. He was working at the mill.”
“Right.” Mary pulled a canvas bag from under the table. “Then, I guess about twelve years ago, Anna died.”
Beverly leaned toward me. “Cervical cancer.” She whispered the words. “She didn’t really take care of her health after her dad died. Anyway, she passed, and Henry was left alone.”
“Right.” Mary repeated the word. “Then Henry sold her house and moved up to his grandad’s cabin north of town. Lived there ever since. You could help, you know.” She pointed to the few quilts remaining.
Beverly chuffed.
I considered asking some of the myriad of questions swirling in my brain, but I figured if I just kept nodding, I’d get answers.
“Anyway, about ten years ago, Henry showed up at a craft fair with a few figurines.” Beverly held the bag open so Mary could put the quilt in the bag.
“Didn’t go over well,” Mary assured him. “People accused him of being a pedophile. Of making the figurines so he could lure young girls.”
Beverly rolled her eyes. “And then they accused him of being a fairy himself.”
Mary clucked her tongue. “Gay marriage had been legal by then for more than five years, but the bigots in this town still carried on.”
The women exchanged a look.
How long have they been together?
None of my business.
Beverly tipped her chin. “But some of us welcomed him. Tried to include him. I mean, he’d lost his job when the mill shut down, but he had the money from selling his mama’s house. I think between that and the sales of the figurines, he does okay.”
“Not that it’s any of our business,” Mary was quick to assure me.
“Of course,” I murmured.
“I volunteer at the library.” Beverly held open another bag for Mary. “The literary program. Such amiable women there. The librarian, Loriana, and her assistant, Marnie.”
I wasn’t certain I needed to know the name of the librarian, but I hoped if I held my tongue it would move the conversation along.
“So, I see Henry often. He’s always checking out stacks and stacks of books. I’m pretty sure he’s read everything in the library.” Beverly smiled.
“Right.” Mary nodded as she finished putting the quilt in the bag.
“Miss Loriana asked him if he watched movies. Someone had just donated a stack of queer films. I mean, I don’t think she was hinting at anything, because she had an enormous selection of films, but I saw a couple of gay and lesbian films. Comedies, I think.” Beverly leaned her hip against the table. “But he turned bright red and said he didn’t have a movie player or even a computer. Imagine, not having a computer. Which, I suppose, explained why I’d seen him using the library’s a few times. Marnie helps him,” she said. “Wonderful girl. Tragic story. Happy ending.”
My head spun. I didn’t know any of these people, but apparently I was getting a crash course.
“So, Henry…?”
“Well, you saw him with Denise earlier. And her son Adam. That’s another tragic story. An orphan.”
Mary hip checked her partner. “Adam’s not an orphan. Denise is his mother, and she’s alive. Angus was the orphan. Oh, but he’s been adopted by his uncle Stanley and Stanley’s husband Justin. So another happy ending.”
“Right.” Beverly gave Mary an eye-roll. “Well, Denise is a lovely woman. PhD student. Child psychology, I think. Very expensive program.”
Mary nodded.
“I thought maybe she and Henry…but she’s twenty years younger and, as much as she needs someone to take care of her, I think the age gap’s just too big.” Beverly winced when Mary swatted her arm. “Hey.”
“Matchmaking.” Mary tisked. “Denise would be much better off with that wonderful Seth Jacobs.”
