by Frank Martinet
The Invitation
June second was a difficult day for George and Jenna. They barely talked. It was too painful. They should have been in Atlanta celebrating, but they didn't even go to the graduation ceremony. What was the point?
Aster called at around four. Jenna answered the phone warily, her husband watching her with concern.
"Oh, hello, Aster," she said dully, when she realized who it was. She didn't want to be rude, but talking with her daughter's best friend was not what she wanted to do right then.
"Mrs. Deaver, I'm so sorry to bother you. I'd hoped you'd come today so I could talk to you."
"It was just too painful," said the woman softly, her voice catching slightly. "We just couldn't."
"I understand. It was really nice, though. They had a wonderful tribute for her."
"I'm sure they did."
"Listen, I know this might not be the best time, but I was hoping... could I come for a visit?"
Jenna looked at George. He was only hearing his wife's side of the conversation, so his eyebrows rose in puzzlement. He couldn't understand her bewildered expression.
"Uh, Aster, I'm not sure that's, uh..." She broke off, uncertain as how to say no.
"Please, Mrs. Deaver. It's really important. I know it's rude to invite myself to your home, but I really need to see you. Both of you. You wouldn't mind, would you? Just for a day or two?"
Such was the urgency and pleading in the girl's voice that Jenna couldn't refuse. "Sure, honey. That'd be fine. When will you get here?"
"I'm going home for a few days from here, but I'll come down after that. Perhaps Thursday? I'd stay the weekend, if that's okay."
"Uh, all right. Sure. We'll see you on Thursday."
"I'll call you and let you know the exact time," said Aster. "Thank you."
Jenna hung up in a daze. She noticed her husband was staring at her critically.
"You invited her here?"
"She begged to come. I couldn't say no."
"Honey, that's the last thing we need right now. You know how much she looks like-" He couldn't even finish the words. Jenna blinked tears and nodded.
Though the Deavers had really only met Aster a few times, she was like a second daughter to them. They'd seen her briefly when they'd visited the school, and one Christmas when her parents were in China on a business trip, she'd come home with Rachel. It had been a joyous time. The two girls were similar in appearance and personality. Both were petite with dark hair. Aster was more voluptuously built, but she seemed younger. She preferred to party and flirt with boys, while Rachel was more studious. The two were inseparable and had been best friends and roommates almost their entire time at school.
"She wants to talk to us, dear. It sounded important. She... she sounded like she was hurting."
George stood. He was a rangy man, as rough as dirt, but as gentle as butter where his family was concerned. He put his arms around his wife and she began to weep against his chest for a moment. He said nothing, tears stinging his blue eyes, and simply waited for her to finish. It was only a brief spurt, like a passing shower, and then Jenna wiped her face and smiled up at him.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Don't be."
"We need to be strong for Aster. It's going to be so hard having her here, but we'll have to be strong."
George nodded.
The Proposal
On Thursday, around three in the afternoon, the visitor arrived. She parked her silver BMW under the shade of a tree and climbed out. Jenna steeled herself, for the slim girl looked so much like Rachel that it was hard for her not to rush out and throw her arms around the girl.
"Welcome," she said, standing on the porch. She had made a pitcher of sweet tea and the two settled around the kitchen table. For several minutes, neither said anything. The silence was awkward. Aster finally asked about George and was told he was out working somewhere on the farm.
"It... it's better if I talk to you both together," Aster said. Her voice was strained.
"Sure."
"How are you holding up?"
"I should ask you that question," Jenna said evasively.
Aster shook her head. "I'll be honest: I'm not doing very well."
Jenna nodded. "Neither are we, not really. George has been working long hours. Me too. It helps, a little."
"She was an incredible person."
"Yes, she was."
"Did... did you know we'd talked about me coming here with her for spring break?"
Jenna shook her head. "No, Rachel never mentioned that."
"It was much earlier. We'd had so much fun that Christmas I was here and Rachel said you wouldn't mind. But my parents nixed the idea before we could even ask. They claimed they hardly ever get to see me since I'm away at school. They insisted I come home."
"Well, you should see them."
Aster snorted. "Dad's on the phone all the time I'm there and my mom's got so many functions and events that I never see her. They like the idea of me being there, but they're really too busy."
"I'm sure they love you very much," Jenna said awkwardly, uncertain if that was true. She'd only met Aster's parents briefly, at the funeral. They had been polite, but distant and cold, as though they'd attended solely out of duty and had much more pressing things to do.
"My point is that if I'd come here, we... we could have used my car," said Aster.
The weight of her words hung heavy in the air. Jenna felt a pang of grief hit her chest so hard it was a moment before she could breathe. She sensed the young girl's guilt and wanted to say something to assuage it, but the words wouldn't come. All she could think about was Why? Why didn't you drive her here?
"She wouldn't have had to take the bus," added Aster, assuming her point needed further explanation.
"It wasn't your fault," Jenna finally managed. "If I hadn't been so busy I could have driven up and gotten her." Her laugh was curt and bitter. "I was wanting to get an early start on the garden. Now I can't stand to even look at it. It only reminds me of Rachel."
The small dark-haired girl nodded somberly. Suddenly, on impulse, she threw herself at the woman. Jenna caught her with astonishment, but then they were hugging and the tears began to flow. Both wept for several minutes, and then Aster broke away, blushing with embarrassment.
"Sorry," she said.
But Jenna was smiling. "No, we needed that. Rachel was your best friend and my only daughter. We have every right to be grieving."
"I know, but I feel like I'm bursting into tears all the time, for no reason."
"I do that, too. Just last week I was doing some laundry and I found a sock. It was one of Rachel's. Just one, of course. Not a pair. I was cross for a second and I actually opened my mouth for a moment to yell at her for losing the other one... and then I remembered. I sat on the floor and cried for ten minutes."
Aster's dark eyes were wide. "I'm glad I'm not the only one doing stuff like that. I keep thinking of all the things we had planned for this summer and beyond. Now nothing seems to matter."
Jenna sighed and stood up. "You just have to push yourself. Life goes on. It's not fair, it's not pleasant, but it's what we have to do. Are you hungry?"
"No. I haven't much of an appetite lately."
"Me either. But we have to eat. George has been the opposite. He's working so hard he's famished all the time. I'd better get started on supper."
"Can I help?"
"If you'd like. Do you know how to husk corn?"
"Sure."
"Then you can do that while I peel the potatoes." Jenna started a pot of water boiling on the stove. "While they cook, we can work on the green beans."
"How much food are you making?" Aster asked, astonished at all the fixings Mrs. Deaver was preparing.
"Zeke and Timmy are joining us for supper," said Jenna. "They work here in the summer and we feed them as part of their pay. I hope you don't mind."
"No, that's fine."
It wasn't until almost eight o'clock before the girl had time alone with the two adults. After supper George had gone to feed the animals and put them down for the night, and then he'd showered. The three settled in the living room. Aster looked at her friend's parents nervously.
"So, you wanted to talk to us?" George asked. He was a practical man who didn't like to waste time.
"Yes, Mr. Deaver, sir."
"Call me George. It is my name."
Aster nodded noncommittally. "What I wanted," she began, and stopped. "The thing is-" She stopped again. "This is harder than I thought."
"Just spit it out."
"I suppose I'd better start at the beginning. Rachel and I... we kinda had a pact."
"What sort of pact?" asked Jenna.
"Uh, well, you guys know how strict Brentford is, right? It's pretty hard to go there without getting, uh, well, getting paddled." Aster blushed, looking at the well-worn carpet on the floor.
"Sure," said George, his voice low and stern. "That's part of why we decided it was a good place for Rachel."
"Yes. Rachel was, uh... rambunctious, I guess you'd say."
"If you mean that she got in trouble a lot, then I guess that's accurate."
Aster nodded. "Paddlings at Brentford aren't that bad, unless you get too many too often. Then they can be pretty uncomfortable."
"I would imagine."
"So Rachel and I, we came up with sort of a plan. You know how Brentford actually handles the discipline, right? The pink slips?"
Jenna nodded. "The teachers and administrators give them out and you have to take them to the Principal to get the swats."
"Right. She signs off on them. The thing is, the papers... they don't actually have your name on them."
George looked at his wife and frowned. "What does that mean?"
"It means that Principal Beachamp has no way of knowing who the slip was for... if you show up with it, she assumes it was for you."
"What are you saying? You and Rachel-"
"We would swap pink slips. Sometimes. In a pinch. Like if she'd been paddled earlier in the day and got another one, she might give me her slip and I'd take her second spanking. We kept track of who owed who what, of course, so sometimes you'd call in a debt and have the other take your spanking for you."
"That's not right-" began George, but his wife cut him off.
"But they still end up with the same amount of punishment, right? That seems fair." She looked at Aster curiously. "Our daughter really did this?"
"Oh yes. We did it for years. The only thing is... Rachel, I guess you guys were pretty strict with her. She was used to getting hard spankings. Getting paddled at school didn't mean much to her. So our arrangement tended to go more the other direction."
"You mean she took your spankings?"
Aster nodded. "Yeah. My folks don't really spank. They aren't against it, but they just don't do it themselves."
"So you weren't used to it."
"Exactly. Especially early on. That's when Rachel and I came up with the deal. It was her idea. She volunteered to take one of my paddlings. She said I could owe her and when she was due one and didn't feel like taking it, I could do it. The paddle terrified me, so I agreed."
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