Patchwork to Healing, page 28
They had some renovations that needed to get done before they could open, but she was relieved that those structural and cosmetic plans were ready to go. Once they got the town approval, the work could begin, so long as they raised enough money. Beyond what Mrs. Bennington’s trust account held, the gala was just the thing to make that happen.
She looked over the invitation list that Sophie and Emily had helped put together and hoped, once they were sent out, the replies would be a resounding yes. She and Ben needed every volunteer they could get and hoped the attendees would have deep pockets. Otherwise, Stepping Stones would be in jeopardy, and she’d lose the house. Her home.
Rebecca sat in her office, thinking of Ben. They’d come so far since she’d seen him at Mrs. Getchel’s funeral. She never dreamed that her life would have changed so drastically in such a short amount of time. She couldn’t help but think that Mrs. Getchel had known all along what would happen. She smiled and had to believe that Mrs. Getchel was watching over them and cheering them on.
A knock at the door drew her away from her daydreams.
“Come on in,” Rebecca said, expecting Sophie so she could debrief her regarding the appointment she’d completed, but to her surprise, Ben entered.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said with a broad smile as he stepped into the room. All she could think was about the last time he’d come there. She could still picture him lying on the floor unconscious.
“Hey, you.” Rebecca stood to meet him. “What are you doing here?”
“I know, it’s early.” He took her into his arms. “But I was nearby and couldn’t resist coming to see you.”
“I’m glad you did.”
Rebecca took in his masculine scent, and strong embrace, as if she were savoring it for a lifetime.
“I’m sorry about losing my temper with the attorney this morning.” Ben kissed the crown of her head. “I hope I didn’t upset you.”
“No, you didn’t; Mrs. Bennington did.”
Ben released her, and Rebecca motioned for him to have a seat opposite the desk. He ran his hand along its edge. “I’m guessing this is where I hit my head?”
“Yes,” she said as sorrow poured through her. “I’m so sorry for how I—”
“Please don’t apologize. I should have listened to you. I was wrong. And now, after hearing what you went through, I never would have—”
“I know. It’s okay.” Rebecca could see the despair in his eyes. “We’re okay.”
He gave her hand a squeeze just as Sophie opened the door.
“Oh, hi, Ben. I didn’t realize you were here. I can come back.”
“No, no, no. You two have work to do. I’ll step out.” Ben stood to go and gave Rebecca a wink. “See you in a bit.”
“You better.”
Rebecca took in his broad shoulders and swagger as he made his way out the door. She was grateful to have him in her life once again. Thank you, Mrs. Getchel.
***
Ben and Rebecca pulled into the parking lot of the York Library for their long-awaited town meeting.
“Is this really happening?” Rebecca asked as they stared at the front doors.
“It’s really happening.” Ben gave her a reassuring nod. “We’ve got this.”
Ben’s words were said with certainty, but Rebecca wasn’t so sure. Her stomach was flip- flopping. She just wanted the whole ordeal over with.
As they walked through the lot, Rebecca shifted her head from side to side in search of Mrs. Bennington’s car, but didn’t see the white Lexus. They took the stairs to the lower-level, hand in hand, and Ben gave it an extra reassuring squeeze when they entered the room.
The meeting hall had filled up quickly. Ben and Rebecca took their seats at a folding table toward the front of the room, facing a sprawling, curved desk. The dais with six chairs and six microphones looked intimidating. The Town of York’s round emblem adorned the dais’ front. Rebecca was trying her best to keep her anxiety at bay. Ben briefly rested his hand on her knee to steady it, and she breathed in deeply.
She glanced behind her toward the entrance, anticipating their attorney’s arrival. Friends and co-workers, and neighbors spilled in to support the project. Sophie gave her a thumbs up. Some patrons from Grounds Coffee Shop, as well as Jason, were also present. It warmed her heart to see so many people there, showing their support of Stepping Stones.
To her relief, their attorney stepped in, along with, who she assumed was a member from the Historic District Commission. Mr. Howard had called earlier in the day and mentioned someone from the commission might be joining him. Mr. Howard and a stranger advanced to another folding table next to hers and Ben’s. He unpacked documents and maps, then he took his seat just as the six planning board members filed in.
Ben nudged her with his elbow and shot her a look. He tossed his head toward the entry door. Mrs. Margo Bennington bulldozed through the crowd. Murmurs filled the room. Rebecca’s heart nearly beat out of her chest. She lifted a silent prayer, Please help us. Rebecca took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, urging her heart to steady. We can do this. Be strong, Rebecca.
Mrs. Bennington plopped in a chair directly behind Rebecca and Ben’s table, and Rebecca couldn’t resist making eye contact and saying hello.
Mrs. Bennington pursed her lips tight and squeezed the handbag on her lap without saying a word. Rebecca giggled nervously at the woman’s silence, knowing full well that her booming voice would soon make a spectacle of the proceedings.
The six-member board took their seats, and the meeting began. As the proceedings continued, Rebecca was relieved at their attorney’s competence. She wiped away her earlier opinion of him, and fully understood why Mrs. Getchel had him on retainer. He stood with microphone in hand and explained, in great detail, how Stepping Stones would fit into the community and adhere to the town ordinances and regulations. He addressed parking, esthetics in keeping of the house’s historic features, and a multitude of other aspects that both the planning board and historical commission required.
Now, the time she and Ben dreaded had come. The community had an opportunity to take to the lector and argue against the project or show their support.
Mrs. Bennington hoisted herself from her chair and plodded across the carpeted floor to the podium. As she introduced herself, the mic squealed with piercing feedback. The crowd winced. Rebecca and Ben, pleased with Mrs. Bennington’s botched introduction, eyed each other with a look of delight. Mrs. Bennington proceeded, her accusatory tone and finger pointing only added to their amusement. Her tirade of judgement included the words delinquents, lacking character, uneducated, troublemakers. The negativity eroded Rebecca’s confidence.
Mrs. Bennington spewed about what a nuisance to the community having cars going in and out, bogging down the village center would be. How the grand home would turn into nothing more than a commercial enterprise.
With each accusation, Rebecca watched the nodding heads and tight brow lines of the planning board members. She squeezed Ben’s hand, hoping that they could persuade them to vote in their favor.
Mrs. Bennington’s tirade went beyond the five-minute timeframe allotted, and the board interrupted her. Rebecca wished the board had a giant hook they could use to pull her away from the microphone. She was making a spectacle of herself. Her face grew redder by the moment as she spit and sputtered her objections. One of her hens approached and finally got Margo to take her seat.
The next twenty minutes nearly brought Rebecca to her knees.
As others from the audience took to the mic and introduced themselves, she learned that many of them were past foster kids Mrs. Getchel had helped. To her delight, several teens spoke of their support and how much Stepping Stones was needed for their future and the benefit of teens in transition.
Nathan stood up and shared the story about how Ben had helped him get a job, and how Rebecca had supported him when Mrs. Bennington had ridiculed in public. Rebecca could no longer control her emotions. She was smiling as tears of joy fell down her cheeks. She couldn’t believe that Nathan would stand up and share his story about being in the system. He told of his need and desire to succeed in life, and from what he’d heard at the meeting, Stepping Stones: A Bridge to Success was just what he and others like him needed. His heartfelt words moved the audience and the board. As Nathan stepped away from the podium, the crowd clapped in appreciation.
Rebecca’s hands shook as she held her pre-written notes and approached the podium. She swallowed hard as she saw the onlookers staring back. She cleared her throat and stepped closer to the microphone.
“Can you all hear me, okay?” she asked as she raised her eyes. She was greeted with encouraging smiles and nods, but she put her focus on Ben. He blew her a kiss and mouthed, “You got this.”
Rebecca glanced at her notes and the words blurred on the paper. She closed her eyes. Just speak from the heart.
“For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Rebecca Mills. I lived in a loving home, filled with encouragement, laughter, as well as tears. I was blessed to have been taught that success was defined by doing something that you are passionate about, and living a life that fuels those passions.”
Rebecca paused and locked eyes with several people in the crowd.
“Many of you are living proof of living a life of success. You may own a business that provides decadent sweets so others can celebrate milestones. Or make flower arrangements that delight. You may be a builder that sees a vision and makes that vision into something tangible for others. You could even serve coffee with that special ingredient called love. Some of you might serve in the military, for which I am so grateful. Others snap photos to capture loved ones so those images can last for generations. And, there are those who are teachers and mothers, who nurture, guide, listen, encourage, cry with, cheer for, believe in, and dream much bigger dreams than we could have ever imagined for ourselves.”
Rebecca paused and cast her eyes down. She placed her hand on her heart and readied herself to continue.
“I was lucky enough to have lived in a family that offered me a chance to succeed, but that was taken away from me, as it was for so many others. You see, I was one of Mrs. Norma Getchel’s kids.
“Mrs. Getchel, who lived in this community for her entire life, opened her home to foster kids just like me. And contrary to some of what we heard here tonight, I can assure you, these kids, through no fault of their own, are simply those who no longer have parents that can care for them. They are good kids that just need a break and mentors who can help them through their circumstances.”
“As I look around, I recognize many among us, that were also blessed to have spent time in Mrs. Getchel’s loving care.”
“Mrs. Getchel wasn’t just a foster care worker. She was our teacher, our mother, our grandmother, our friend. She entrusted two of her ‘kids’ to carry on her legacy. She chose that man, right there.” She pointed to Ben. “Benjamin Daly and myself.”
Rebecca gave Ben a nod. “But, as Mrs. Getchel would often say, we should always leave things better than how we found it.”
“She chose us because we have a passion for helping kids bridge the gap from dependance to independence, so that they, too, can pursue their own passions, and live a successful life. And so, I ask you, grant us the ability to serve this wonderful community, and the children who need us, by bringing Stepping Stones to life. Thank you.”
Rebecca glanced over at the board members as she took her seat. Ben gave her a peck on her cheek. The members wheeled their chairs toward each other. The chairperson covered his microphone, and they whispered among themselves.
Rebecca leaned toward Ben’s ear. “Do you think we did enough?”
“I think so, but Mr. Howard told me that the board has to follow the town’s zoning, planning ordnances, and historical commission guidelines. The emotional level probably won’t come in to play.”
“I know,” Rebecca said with a sigh.
“Becky, you have to know that regardless of the outcome, I am so proud of you.”
“Thanks.” She grinned. I’m proud of me too.
The board members swiveled back to their original places.
“They all look so serious,” she whispered. Ben nodded.
The chairperson thanked the community for their input. Rebecca noticed Mrs. Bennington stick out her chin and glance around, grinning at everyone as if the chairman had spoken only to her. Mrs. Bennington stopped short when she got to Rebecca and snickered.
“We, the board,” the chairperson said. Rebecca held her breath. “Approve the plan for Stepping Stones. May it live up to its name, providing a bridge to success for generations to come.”
With that, the chairman banged the gavel. Mrs. Margo Bennington stormed out of the room in a huff.
Chapter 50
Ben gave Rebecca an embrace and shook Mr. Howard’s hand, still high from the town’s approval of their project.
The audience was dispersing, and Ben wanted to find Nathan before he left. Sophie, Brady, and Emily approached, and Ben indicated he’d be right back. He spotted Nathan from the corner of his eye. He was with Jillian and the guy Rebecca had introduced as her accountant, Duncan. They were headed in Ben’s direction.
“Thank you, Nathan.” Ben gave him a squeeze on his shoulder and shook his hand. “That was pretty brave of you to stand up there. It means a lot to me.”
“Thanks,” Nathan said proudly.
By now, everyone from Proposals came over to join them.
“Well, you did a fine job.” Ben introduced him to the others. “Brady, you’re going to love this kid. Nathan here shares your love of photography. He’s quite the artist.”
“Sure is,” Jillian added.
Nathan and Brady kibitzed about different cameras for underwater use. Rebecca had tugged on Ben’s elbow, pulling him aside.
“Benjamin, when I’d met Nathan at Grounds, I knew I recognized the name, but I wasn’t sure until tonight that he was the Nathan Monroe.”
Ben didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, but her expectant eyes led him to believe that he was supposed to know. “I’m not following.”
“I made one of my quilts for a Nathan Monroe,” she whispered. “He got one of my quilts.”
“Oh. That’s pretty awesome. You should tell him.”
“Are you kidding me? That would be so awkward. For both of us.”
Ben shook his head, not understanding her reasoning. He didn’t dare question why it would be awkward, and so he didn’t ask.
“I’ve never actually met any of the kids I make them for, and now I have a face to go with the quilt.”
“I see.” He still wasn’t quite following, but just seeing her excited was reason enough.
“I don’t make them for recognition, Benjamin. Just knowing he has one makes me happy, is all.”
He found her delight and giddiness adorable, and he wanted to plant a big kiss on her chatterbox mouth, but he resisted. “I’m glad you’re happy. I’m sure Nathan is pretty happy to have it.”
Rebecca joined the rest of the group as introductions and congratulations continued. Ben stood back and took in the sight before him. Those people had knit their way into his world, and that was an unexpected addition he’d never dreamed of.
Rebecca was beaming, and her excitement was contagious. She and Sophie discussed the invitations to the gala that was now only three weeks away. Emily was sharing about some of the desserts Jillian planned to serve as Duncan and Nathan were gathering their things to leave. Ben wanted to get Brady’s attention before he left and discuss the idea rolling around his head since the wee hours of the morning.
Ben caught Brady’s eye, and walked to the edge of the room, avoiding the people stacking chairs.
“What’s up?” Brady asked, joining him.
“I’m hoping you can help me out with a project. A secret project.”
“Do tell,” Brady said.
“I’d like to take you up on your offer to help with some remodeling and construction at Stepping Stones.” Ben leaned his shoulder against the wall, and Brady listened. “Rebecca wants to move into the house, but the problem is, her quilting studio is at her apartment. Obviously, she can’t keep paying rent just so she can work.”
“Obviously.”
“Yeah, so, I was thinking, if you’re willing, would you be able to duplicate her studio in the area above the garage at the house.”
“How big are we talking?”
Ben pulled out his phone from his pocket. “I was at the studio this morning, and I took some photos of the space. Most of it is her equipment, work table, and shelving.”
Brady leaned in as Ben swiped through the images. “As you can see, it’s mostly wide open except for the walk-in closet. It’s where she keeps all her fabric, so I don’t think it would be too difficult. We’d just need to add a bank of windows for light. Since Stepping Stones will be teaching skills, I thought it would be good to add some extra work tables. You know, so Becky can teach quilting. Kind of multipurpose classroom.”
Ben relinquished his phone to Brady, who zoomed in on some shots. “This looks pretty doable. We’d just need to get a building permit. That won’t be an issue if we’re just adding windows to the back. Everything else is interior.” He nodded as he handed the phone back over.
“So, you’ll do it then?”
Brady stepped back and took a broad stance, then crossed his arms. “Sure. I’ll do it. I like surprises, and as it happens, I’m in a lull with projects.”
“Oh, man, thanks.” Ben shifted and slid his phone back into his coat pocket. “I think she’ll be thrilled.”
“I think so, too, but how do you suppose we can pull this off without her knowing?”
Ben thought for a moment, and then his eyes lit up. “I have an idea, but it’s going to take some strategizing.”
