Chapter 4: Beverly

Being Saturday afternoon, Dean's barber shop was crowded. Dean was no longer the proprietor, but his son had kept the same name. Looking around the shop as I waited for my turn in one of the chairs, I wondered if anyone recognized me. Did they remember that my brother had stolen my girl? Did they talk behind my back, whispering that Jen couldn't wait for me? A sinister thought crossed my mind; had Ed paid my college tuition to keep me away from home for long periods of time?

I left the shop relieved that I didn't have to explain to anyone where I had been or what brought me home now, but as soon as I opened the door to the Mustang I heard my name being called.

"Ben Crumbly, I thought that was Jen's car. How are you?"

I turned to see Beverly Worthington heading toward me. She was just as I remembered from high school, short dark hair, combed back to show her round face and dainty ears, stout figure and robust chest. She looked like a horse-woman in heavy twill trousers, knitted sweater and a scarf draped loosely over her shoulders.

"I'm fine, how have you been, Beverly?" I asked, extending my hand as she came near.

"I'm so glad to have run into you," she said, disregarding my hand, leaning in for a hug. I felt her breath against my neck as she whispered, "I was going to call you."

"You were? How did you know I was back?"

She pulled away and I noticed that her nose was not as pronounced as I remembered. Had she had plastic surgery?

"I saw your picture on the web site. I was going to call you about remodeling my house, but now that we've run into one another, will you come over and give me an estimate?"

I was taken aback, first to learn that my picture was on a web site and second that Beverly Worthington would perceive me qualified to give her an estimate. "You saw my picture on a web site? Was it, by any chance, a picture of me and my brother with two kids between us?"

"Isn't that just like Jen? You didn't know your picture was on your brother's web site? I hope I'm not being too personal when I say this, Ben, but we all knew why you didn't come to our five year reunion. Believe me when I say you were missed."

Beverly watched me digest what she had told me, my picture was on the construction company web site, my classmates had discussed the reason I didn't make it to the five year reunion and it was implied that Jen was to blame. "Did Jen go?" I asked, immediately hating myself.

She nodded, smirking and leaning in to share a secret. "She was there, flaunting her marriage, like your brother was the perfect catch. I'm sorry to be so catty, Ben, but that's what we old maids do, whisper behind the pretty girls' backs," she said, smiling. I smiled with her.

"You didn't find anyone at school that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with?" I asked.

She shook her head, forlornly, but recovering quickly. "Will you do it?"

"Will I... ?"

"I bought my grandmother's house and I've already moved in, but it's not as comfortable as I would like. Will you look at the plans and give me an estimate to do the work?"

"I'm not ... it's my brother's company. I'll have him call you to make an appointment. I'm sure he..."

She interrupted me, "Will you come with him, Ben?" she asked, and I noticed her eyes were like Jen's, greenish, only Beverly's eyes were pleading.

"Give me your phone number, Beverly. I'll need the address, too."

She produced a pen and notebook, had me turn around and used my back to support the notebook "I prefer that you call, Ben," she said as she handed me the paper. I assured her that I would.

I didn't say anything about meeting Beverly until after dinner. Ed and I were alone in the living room. He said he knew where the house was, but had never been inside. He asked what the job entailed and I said I didn't know. "She has plans and is already moved in," I said, just as Jen entered the room. Naturally, she wanted to be brought up to date on the conversation and they were soon talking as if I were not in the room.

"It would be a good job for you, Dear. The Worthington's have loads of money," Jen said.

"We couldn't possibly do it until spring. She's already moved in," Ed commented.

Jen bristled. "She can easily move out while you're working there. Her parents have plenty of room."

I listened to their discussion, learning the Beverly had lived with a guy while she was working on her master's degree, but something went wrong and she came home to teach English at the high school.

"I think you should call her, Honey," Jen said.

"She has plans. That probably means she'll be getting other quotes," Ed speculated.

"Other quotes won't be a problem for you," Jen said, speaking confidentially in an intimate voice.

I interrupted. "She wants me to call to make the appointment." Jen shot a look at me, questioning, like she had forgotten I was there.

"In that case, you'll have to make the call, little brother," Ed laughed. Nothing more was said about Beverly Worthington's house until the next day. Ed waited until we were alone and reiterated that I should call Beverly. "It sounds like she would prefer to talk to you," he said, serious now.

I called her and made arrangements for us to stop by the following day. We left the jobsite a little early and discovered that Beverly not only had architectural plans, she admitted that two other contractors had bid the job. Ed studied the plans, took measurements of the existing configuration and told her it would take us a few days to prepare a quotation.

"When will you be able to start?" she asked, as if the other two bidders were already out of the running.

"These plans call for alteration of the structure. That means lots of noise and dust. You may want to wait until spring," Ed suggested.

"I don't mind noise and dust. You'll be working here while I'm at school. If it gets too bad I can always move home for a while. I want a warm, friendly place to live and I want it as soon as you can build it for me," she said, looking at me fondly as we went out the door.

"Let's not say anything about this to Jennifer until we get the job," he said on the way home. I didn't know why he was keeping secrets from his wife, but agreed not to talk.

After dinner we retired to the work room and were progressing nicely on the quotation for the alterations to Beverly's house when Jen interrupted us to tell me I had a phone call. I made the mistake of taking the call right there in the room, where Ed and Jen could overhear me try to deny that I was Benjamin E. Crumbly. The caller started talking tough, telling me I could run but I couldn't hide. He said he would track me down and put me in prison. Taking him at his word, I promised to put 'a check in the mail.'

"Damn it, I wonder how they found out I'm here," I said, not attempting to hide my irritation that I had been tracked down by one of my creditors.

"How bad is it?" Jen asked, showing real concern.

I looked at Ed before answering. His expression was one of concern, too.

"How much do you owe?" Jen persisted.

"The one that called says there's a balance of ten thousand and it's going up fast," I said, beginning to see her as my sister-in-law, no longer as my ex-girlfriend and lover.

"How many are there?"

"There are four, all about the same amount."

Jen was looking at her hands, tapping on the table. I noticed the wide wedding band for the first time since I had been there. It reminded me that she was my brother's wife and for the first time in three weeks I was able to look her in the eye without feeling the ache in my chest. She was now the impassionate banker.

"I see this all the time. First, you need to write the same letter to all four card companies, stating your terms of settlement. Offer them forty cents on the dollar, but only if they all agree to those terms. They know bankruptcy is an option so you don't need to threaten to use it. Tell them exactly how much you can afford to pay each week. They'll respect you for being up front with them."

"Forty cents on the dollar will take me forever to pay," I complained.

"It's better than the alternative, bankruptcy," she said and I knew she was right.