Ms. Helen arched a thin gray brow. “I have a car. I drove myself.”
Stubborn. Benita struggled with a smile. She admired her great-aunt. She liked to think she’d inherited some of Ms. Helen’s determination. “Did you have lunch with friends?”
“You could say that.” The kettle whistled. Ms. Helen turned off the stove and filled the mugs with hot water. “I had a lunch meeting with Vaughn and the center’s director.”
Vaughn. The sound of his name made her heart leap like a schoolgirl with a painful crush. “What was the meeting about?”
“Vaughn wants to produce a play at the center.” Ms. Helen carried the two mugs of tea to the table. She h
anded one to Benita before sitting.
“What kind of play?” The scent of lemons rose from the steaming mug. Vaughn had been composing songs for a script. As far as she knew, he wasn’t anywhere near finished, though.
“It’s a musical.” Ms. Helen stirred sweetener into her tea.
“A musical?” Benita froze. Her mind went blank.
“It makes sense.” Ms. Helen sipped her tea. “He’s a band director.”
Benita’s tea was forgotten. Her mind spun with questions, almost too many to hold. When had he finished his musical? How was he going to produce it? Who was going to assist him with it? What can I do to help him? Why hadn’t he told me?
“I knew about his musical.” Benita poured two packets of sweetener into her mug. Her hands barely trembled. “He’s been working on it for years. I just hadn’t realized he’d finished it. Or that he hoped to perform it at the community center.”
“It sounds interesting. The story’s based on Caribbean folklore.”
“It’s a love story about a mortal man, a farmer, who falls in love with a water fairy. The villain is a water spirit, Mama D’Leau, who’s part woman and part serpent.” Benita drank her tea. It helped.
Ms. Helen took another sip. “He’s holding an audition April twenty-second.”
Sadness twisted into temper. Benita shook her head in disbelief. “He used to talk about his script all the time. I just don’t understand why he didn’t tell me he’d finally finished it.”
“I do.” Ms. Helen shrugged. “He spends time with you maybe three weeks out of the year.”
Benita’s eyes widened. She released her mug and spread her hands. “We call each other all the time. We e-mail. We even Skype.”
“And you think that sustains a relationship?” Ms. Helen leaned into the table. “He’s not leaving Trinity Falls and you’re not leaving Los Angeles, so what kind of a relationship do you really have?”
“I’ve asked him to move to L.A. with me.”
“And he’s asked you to come home to Trinity Falls.” Ms. Helen sat back, shaking her head with apparent disappointment. “Relationships are about compromises. One of you is going to have to compromise and I think it should be you.”
Benita’s lips parted with shock. “Why me?” She could have sworn her great-aunt supported her need to follow her dream.
“Everyone you love and everything you care about is in this town.”
“What about my career?”
“You don’t enjoy it nearly as much as you pretend.”
Am I really that transparent? Benita dropped her gaze to the table. “How did you know?”
“You didn’t plan a month’s stay in Trinity Falls just to help me celebrate my upcoming endowed chair.” Ms. Helen pushed back her chair and crossed to the sink. “You’re here to decide what you want to do now and where you want to do it.”
“I know where I want to live.” Benita regarded the tiny woman’s back.
Ms. Helen washed her mug, then set it on her drain board. “You may think you do.”
Benita watched her great-aunt leave the kitchen. The woman thought she knew everything. That was a family trait. Ms. Helen was right that Benita had grown increasingly disenchanted with her career as an entertainment lawyer and celebrity business manager. But she was wrong if she thought Benita had changed her mind about living in L.A. She intended to put down roots there. What did she need to do to convince Vaughn to join her?