Gwendy's Magic Feather

50

GWENDY SHOVES THE BUTTON box off her lap and onto the sofa. Snatches up her cellphone. “Hello? Ryan? Hello?”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Peterson,” a quiet voice says. “It’s Bea. Bea Whiteley.”

“Bea?” she says absently. It feels like the room swims back into focus, although she can’t for the life of her remember it appearing out of focus in the first place. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. I just wanted to… first, I want to apologize for calling so late on Christmas. I didn’t even think about the three-hour time difference until the phone started ringing.”

“No need to apologize, Bea. I’m wide awake.”

“It sounds like Ryan didn’t make it home.”

Gwendy settles back into the sofa. She glances at the button box and then quickly looks away. “No, he didn’t. I’m hoping to hear from him soon, though.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” She can hear laughter in the background. “Sounds like your grandchildren are having a Merry Christmas.”

“Running around here like a bunch of wild animals.”

Gwendy laughs.

“Mrs. Peterson, I called to thank you.”

“For?”

“The beautiful notes you wrote inside your books to my children. Nobody’s ever said those kinds of things about me before, except for maybe my own family. I just wanted to tell you how much it meant to me.”

“It was my pleasure, Bea. I meant every word.”

“It was such a surprise,” Bea says, sniffling. “I swear I’ve never seen my daughter look at me the way she did today. Like she was so proud of me.”

“She has every right to be proud,” Gwendy says, smiling. “Her mother’s an amazing woman.”

“Well, thank you again so much. I…” She hesitates.

“Is there something else?”

When Bea Whiteley speaks again, her voice sounds odd and tentative. “I was wondering… is everything else there okay, Mrs. Peterson?”

“Everything’s fine,” she says, sitting up and glancing at the button box again. “Why do you ask?”

“I feel silly saying it out loud, but… just before I called, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong… that you were in some kind of trouble.”

A shiver passes through Gwendy. “Nope, everything’s fine. I’ve just been sitting here watching television.”

“Okay… good.” She sounds genuinely relieved. “I’ll let you be now. Merry Christmas, Mrs. Peterson, and thank you again.”

“Merry Christmas, Bea. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”