Beth

It's only an hour later, but I am already fed up with my family. Aunt Alice wisely slips into the den, locks the door, and packs alone. I wish I could do the same, but Mariah whines to me about the kids, and the children, mimicking their mother, whine to me about her. I am exhausted playing the role of referee, and meanwhile, the packing is going excruciatingly slow. 

So when the doorbell rings, I am grateful for the reprieve. I open it to see a tall man wearing blue slacks and a matching shirt.

"Can I help you?" I ask.

He looks down at his clipboard, then back up at me.

"Beth Elliott?"

"That's right."

"I need to ask you to leave the premises, ma'am," he says sternly, but his eyes seemed to laugh.

"What?" I say, utterly confused. He hands me a letter.

I open it and scan the contents. 

Dear Beth-

These men have been hired to pack your house and move you. Take your family out for a fun day and leave the work to them. Accept this small token of friendship as gratitude for the all that you have done for me and my family over the years. I hope it makes your life a bit easier.

Your friend,

David

P.S. Don't forget, party at my place tonight. No excuses now. :)

Looking up to thank the man, I realize he has already returned to his van. There are other men climbing out, three, no four men. They are already unloading their supplies and boxes.

It is far too generous of David to pay for this. I priced out what movers would cost when we first planned to move and choked on a kidney. I probably shouldn't accept it, but I'm already worn to a frazzle and there's no way I'm turning the help away.

I feel a small hand at my elbow.

"Aunt Beth?"

"What is it, honey?" I ask.

"Toby stole Isabelle and hid her somewhere. He won't tell me where." Isabelle is Olivia's Build-a-Bear—though technically it's a Build-a-Zebra wearing a bright orange tutu. Leave it to Olivia to be original.

David's timing couldn't be better.

"C'mon. We'll track Toby down, then we're going to the park. How does that sound?"

Olivia's eyes lit up.

"For real? We haven't been to the park in forever."

She still lisps, which was adorable when she was four; not so much to her teachers at twelve. She's been working with a speech therapist, but progress is slow.

I feel a little twinge at her words. Normally I am better at taking them to the park, but lately I've been so stressed by the move, it's completely escaped my mind. That might be part of the reason Toby and Olivia are at odds with each other.

Shutting the door, I gather everyone together (other than my father, who is "meditating" in his room) and tell them of our plan.

"Really, Beth. I wish you would have told me before promising the children," Mariah complains. "I know you. You'll try to make me feel guilty for not coming, but my head hurts far too much to go to the park. The last thing I need is a bunch of banshees running around yelling and making my migraine worse."

I see the children's crushed expressions and bite back a sharp response. It is possible she does truly have a headache, though I will never know for sure. I am fairly certain about half of her ailments are figments of her imagination, and a good portion of the remaining are self-induced. It's challenging to be patient with her sometimes.

"You don't need to come," I point out. "Thanks to David's generosity, our work is done here."

"It can hardly be called generous when he's so loaded. Paying to move us is barely a drop in the bucket for him," Mariah sniffs.

"It doesn't matter what David's net worth is. He thought of us and did something kind."

Auntie hears the tension in my voice and intervenes.

"Why don't you get some rest, Mariah? Beth, I'll take the children to the park to get them out of the way for the movers. You can instruct the men how you want the house packed up, then join us when you're finished."

I nod gratefully. If I have to listen to my sister much longer, I'm going to have a migraine too.

It takes about 20 minutes to direct the movers, then I'm flying out the door to join up with my family. I didn't realize just how much this move was weighing down my spirit. My burden has been lifted, and I feel free.

"Beth!" Someone calls as I grasp the door to my car. I turn.

My friend Sophie, who lives two houses down, is jogging toward me wearing a pink tank and black shorts and her shiny black hair pulled back in a pony tail. Her yorkie, Snickerdoodle, is jogging with her, and I can't help but laugh at her latest creation. Her dog is wearing a matching jogging set and seems immensely pleased with herself. Sophie is only 22, but despite our age differences, we clicked almost instantly. She graduated from beauty school about six months ago, but has since decided her life's mission is to become a fashion designer. Her dream is to design for clients of the canine variety, and she's really good at it.

I can't help but be a little jealous of Sophie's clear, ebony complexion. When I run, my face tends to get blotchy and red.

She reaches for me and pulls me into a big hug.

"You will never believe my news! Guess, Beth!"

I laugh at her enthusiasm.

"I don't know. You just got engaged to a Harley Davidson fanatic and you're planning to travel to every state on your hog with Snickerdoodle hanging on for dear life," I say. Sophie giggles.

"No, silly. Snickerdoodle would be cute in a leather jacket, though."

"You designed a new outfit for Snickerdoodle."

"No, I mean yes, she does, but that's not my news. It's kinda related, though. Can you guess?"

I shake my head.

"I am entering the Next Big Thing competition! The other day when you told me you were thinking about entering, I got to thinking I should enter it too. So I filled out an application and next thing I knew, voila, I was accepted! Can you believe it? We get to do this together! You are doing it, right?"

Sophie is one of those people who speaks in exclamation marks. With some people that might be annoying, but with Sophie, it doesn't bother me too bad. Her enthusiasm and zest for life are contagious. She puts her arm in mine now.

I nod.

"Aunt Alice is helping out with the children, so I'm in," I say.

"I'm dying to pump your brain for ideas. I mean, you went to Harvard after all."

"Dropped out of Harvard," I correct her.

"Whatever," she waves her hand. "You still went. They taught us diddly about running our own business at the cosmetology school."

"Don't worry about it," I say. "You're a natural saleswoman. You'll do great."

"I hope so," she says. "What's your product?"

"I've created a program to help dyslexic children."

Sophie's face falls a little.

"That's so noble. I'm selling pet clothes. My idea will probably seem too silly to them."

"I doubt it. I'm worried my idea won't be sexy enough for them," I say.

"Why should sexy matter when it's for a cause that important? Oh! You won't believe it, but The David Dansun actually invited me to a party at his house. Eep! Can you believe it? Although it's probably not terribly exciting to you. You've been to his house loads of times. You are going, though, aren't you? You've told me so much about David, I feel like I already know him. I can't wait to meet his family."

"I suppose we have to go now after David's grand gesture," I say. Seeing Sophie's confusion, I fill her in on the details. Her eyes widen, and she finally notices the men carrying boxes out of the house.

"Whoa, that was nice of him," she says. "So, you're really moving then. I didn't realize it was going to happen so soon. To Nantucket, right?"

I nod. Sophie's brow furrows.

"Wait. If you're leaving your house, where are you going to stay during the competition?" she asked.

"I'm not sure. Probably at the house until it rents out. Then who knows from there."

Her face lights up.

"I know! You can stay with me. My parents will be gone to Italy all summer, so it would just be you and me. It will be good to have someone to gossip with, and it won't cost you a cent. Ooh, we can have Gilmore Girl marathons! And parties! I have an amazing guy I want to set you up with. C'mon, Beth. Say yes! It will be so much fun!"

I mull over the possibility. Sophie likes to talk, and I am used to being on my own when I'm not with the kids. And the Gilmore Girls are alright, but if I'm going to binge, I would rather watch a show like Outlander. Sophie's not much of a history buff.

As for the parties? I'm even less excited about that part. The guys will likely all be Sophie's age and only interested in having a good time. It's hard to connect on a deep level with those type of guys. Still, you couldn't argue with free rent.

As for the competition, I feel uneasy. I don't like the idea of competing against Sophie. I hope it doesn't get in the way of our friendship.

"Let me think about it," I say.

"Well, tell me tonight at the party if you have it figured out by then! Gotta run or Snickerdoodle's going to pull my arm off. Bye!"

I ease into my BMW and point my car in the direction of the park. My thoughts turn toward David and his request. I feel nervous flutters in my stomach as I think about seeing Isaac again. Not only do I have to talk to him, I promised David I would help him get acclimated. It was stupid of me to agree. I'm such a coward for not refusing. Now I have to do it because I gave my word.

Seeing as I can't see a way out of going to the party now that David's taken care of my packing dilemma, my mind turns toward the burning question that has plagued women for generations.

What should I wear to the party?

____________

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Good news everyone - we flew past 5000 reads on RH - yay! Thanks so much for reading. You guys are the best! I update this story every Tuesday and Friday.

So for Sophie's character, I think Candice Patton (Iris West on Flash) would be perfect. She has a gorgeous smile and I could see her do Sophie's bubbly personality well.

Here's Sophie's beloved yorkie, Snickerdoodle!

Dedication for this chapter goes out to RuthHansen4. Thanks so much for your awesome comments and support of "Restless Hope" Ruth! I appreciate you :)