Gwendy's Magic Feather

7

GWENDY WALKS INTO HER outer office feeling better than she has in days. It’s almost as if a weight has been lifted from her chest and she can breathe again.

A gray-haired receptionist stops typing and looks up from her computer screen. “I left two messages on your desk and lunch should be here soon. Turkey club and chips okay?”

If Gwendy sometimes envisions (secretly, of course; she would never say these things out loud, not in a million years) Representative Patsy Follett as Tinkerbell, the wand-waving, miniature flying guardian angel of her childhood, then she most certainly imagines her receptionist, Bea Whiteley, as Sheriff Taylor’s beloved Aunt Bea from the iconic television series, The Andy Griffith Show.

Although there’s very little physical resemblance (for starters, Gwendy’s Bea is African-American), there are a multitude of other similarities. First, there’s the name, of course. How many women do you know named Bea or even Beatrice? And then there’re the indisputable facts: Mrs. Whiteley is a natural caregiver, an outstanding cook, a person of devoted faith, and the sweetest, most good-natured woman Gwendy has ever known. Wrap all that up into a single human being and who do you have? Aunt Bea, that’s who.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Gwendy says. “Thank you.”

Bea picks up a sheet of paper from the corner of her desk. “I also printed your schedule for tomorrow.” She gets up and hands it to Gwendy.

The congresswoman scans it with a frown. “Why does this feel like the last day of school before Christmas break?”

“Pretty sure the last day of school was a lot more fun than this.” Bea sits down at her desk again. “How’s your mom feeling?”

“Still good as of last night. Six weeks out from chemo. Markers in the normal range.”

The older lady clasps her hands together. “God is good.”

“Dad’s driving her crazy, though. Want to hear the latest?” She doesn’t wait for an answer. “He wants to withdraw all their savings and bury it in the back yard. He’s convinced the bank’s computer system’s going to crash because of Y2K. Mom can’t wait for him to start back at work again.”

“All the more reason for you to get home. You flying out tomorrow night?” Bea asks.

Gwendy shakes her head. “Bumped my flight until Saturday morning. I need to wrap up a couple things before I go. How about you? When are you and Tim headed out?”

“We leave Monday to visit my sister in Colorado, and from there we go to see the kids on Wednesday. Speaking of the kids… would it be too much trouble to ask you to sign a couple of books for them? I’m happy to pay. I’m not asking for them for free or—”

Gwendy puts her hand out. “Will you please hush? I’d be happy to, Bea. It’d be my pleasure.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Peterson. I’m very grateful.” And she looks it, too, not to mention, relieved.

“Just go relax and enjoy that family of yours.”

“All of us under the same roof for an entire week? It should be… interesting.”

“It’ll be a blast,” Gwendy says.

Bea rolls her eyes. “If you say so.”

“I say so.” She walks into her office, laughing, and closes the door behind her.