The Door To Betty's Brownstone

Abigail, clutching a pair of blue baby shoes in both hands, approached the door to Betty's brownstone. It had been twenty years since she'd passed through this doorway yet it appeared to have remained just as she remembered it, as if Betty's welcome would never expire. Abigail hadn't expected to choke up even before stepping foot inside, so she took a deep breath and knocked.The door seemed to open in slow motion as Abigail's mind flooded with memories of bringing her son here. Betty stepped into the threshold, kissed by a ray of light. Her eyes opened wide and she gasped. "Abigail?'

"Betty?" Abigail's emotions tripled in weight, making her tremble under their burden.

A moment passed, Betty grabbed Abigail and pulled her into an embrace infused with angelic protection. Abigail's tears flowed like a river overrunning a dam.

“Abigail, how are you, baby? Come on inside.”

Betty moved a few chairs out of the way and hushed her dogs, sending them outside. “Do you want some coffee and cookies?” 

Abigail took in her surroundings, amazed that it had been nearly twenty years and nothing had changed, except Betty was now old and husky. The paint on the wall was even the same color, that pale blue that felt like the sky. “Yes, I’d love some of those famous chocolate chip cookies.”

“Come. Sit in the kitchen, we’ll talk there.”

Abigail followed behind holding those tiny shoes ever so tightly. She slipped them into her pocket. “Here, let me help with that.”Abigail pointed to a kitchen cabinet, "Coffee cups still in there?"

"Mm-hm," Betty said, smiling.

Abigail opened the cabinet and pulled down coffee cups. She chuckled to herself when the sugar was exactly where she remembered it'd be. The timer went off. 

“That means the cookies are ready to come out the oven," said Betty. "Sit down, child, let me take care of you for a little while.” 

Abigail smiled and sat at the table, marveling how time had only changed Betty on the outside. She'd always been a nurturer.

Betty pulled up her rocking chair to the table and held Abigail’s hand, one tear fell from Abigail’s eye. Not ready to face her tears, Abigail wiped it away taking in her surroundings.

“This place is unchanged by time. The TV, the phone. That’s even the same refrigerator. How on earth are you still using a VCR?”

Betty laughed, “And if you look on top of the frigidaire you’ll find my tape deck with a bag of cassettes.”

“No!”

“Yes,” nodded Betty. “And they all play just fine.”

“That’s why his presence is so strong here. A lot of good memories were made here. The hardest thing in my life was taking him back.”

“Well he was your son, it’s understandable. I wish it would’ve happened differently, but again, I completely understand.” Betty’s grip got tighter but was still gentle. “I always understood.”

“I wish I did. I was just so mad you know.”

“We didn’t know what was gonna happen, we did the best we could.”

“It’s like from the moment I walked in the door, I could still feel him like he’s still here.”

“I know baby, I know.”

Abigail put her coffee down and fell into Betty’s lap, “How do I keep going with all this pain?”

Suddenly there was a knock at the door that escalated straight into banging and pounding. Startled, Abigail looked to Betty, who rose from her rocking chair. "Who is knocking..."

Before Betty had gotten halfway to the door, with a pop it swung open.

A man's foot.

A man in the doorway.

Abigail froze, staring in disbelief. "Daddy?"

"I knew I'd find you here," said Jon, huffing.

Abigail rushed to gather her thoughts. Her father, Jon, had just kicked in Betty's door. "Daddy, what are you doing here?"

Betty looked from Abigail to Jon. "Well, who the hell is paying for this door?"

Abigail grabbed Betty’s arm, “I’m so sorry, I’ll pay for the damages.”

“Like Hell, you will, said Jon. He cast a rude look toward Betty. "All this woman does is..."

“Daddy, you just broke her door.”

“That’s alright Abby, I’ll take care of it.”

“No, this isn’t right," said Abigail, shaking her head. "Daddy, you’re gonna leave now and never come back or I’ll convince Betty to press charges and have you locked up.”

“Abi-“

“This woman has a name. Betty. She was there for me when you didn’t know how to be. I know that’s not how you see it but she raised my son.” Overcome with emotion, Abigail fought sobs, choking out a hoarse whisper. "She raised my son, Daddy. She took him from my arms because...because I couldn't raise him myself." She hung her head in shame for a moment, as the tears kept flowing. "She let me come and go as I pleased. Meanwhile Betty had five children of her own and she didn't turn my boy away. I can't watch you hate her like this when she's done so much for me."

“Jon scoffed. "Don't make me the bad guy here, Abby. You talking like you don't hate her, too. Behind her back, while Ozzie was growing up, you hated her. Who's this act for all of a sudden?"

Abigail glanced at Betty, whose eyes registered hurt, and she looked down. In that instant, Abigail felt guilty. She had to find the right words, but her father’s outburst scrambled her thoughts. 

Jon’s words stung down into her truth. She had no choice but to confess. She shook her head slowly at Betty. “I wanted to hate Betty because it was too hard to admit I hated myself, Daddy. I could’ve made time for him when I was in medical school, or after I graduated. But I didn’t. I chose to party and hang out with my friends all the while he got closer to this family. When I heard him call her ‘ma’ I pulled him from this place without a moment’s notice.” She turned and looked at Betty, “And for that I was wrong. I can admit that now...isn’t it terrible what had to happen in order for me to mature enough to say it?” she let out a hollow murmur of a laugh, coming from her emptiness. “You were always more of a mother to my boy than I ever was, and...I can’t be jealous anymore. I’m grateful.”

Betty held her hand, “You were young, that’s all over with now. He came from you, he was always yours. Don’t hurt yourself further, I never faulted you. It was a hard situation to be in.”

“Shut up you old hag.”

Abigail gasped.

“You’re no spring chicken Jon,” said Betty coolly. “Aren’t you older than me?”

“Daddy!”

Betty stepped past Jon and looped her arm in Abigail’s. She led her toward the living room and pointed. “Look, baby over here is where Ozzie thought he could fly, he put a cape around his neck and jumped and hurt his knee.” Abigail followed Betty to the kitchen. 

“And over here is where he and Bobby kept a record of their heights. They were best friends because they were the same age.”

Pausing to notice the blue marks on the wall showing Ozzie’s growth over time, she sniffled.

Betty continued. “Over here is where he would hide and wait and jump out to scare me when I came from work. He always hid in the same spot.” Her smile touched Abigail’s heart. “I can still feel him with each memory I happen upon.”

Jon snickered.

Betty looked at him sideways. “If you don’t mind, you old deadbeat, we have a son to mourn.” She took Abigail’s hands in hers.

Abigail took comfort from the warmth of Betty’s hands; she felt Betty’s understanding and nurturing pass through her, and she knew motherhood meant as much to the old, husky woman now as it ever had. They shared a deep loss, but Betty wasn’t hoarding Ozzie’s memory to herself, even though she had a right to. If Abigail would open her heart, they could share a mutual healing. 

Jon stepped forward, pointing his long witch-like fingernail at Abby’s face. “If you would’ve come to live with me he might still be alive, then we wouldn’t be mourning anything. I would’ve gotten him proper doctor’s visits. Not whatever this cow was getting for him.”

Abby had heard enough. “You blind, sad man, there was nothing anyone could have done. Ozzie was in great physical condition. He died during a basketball game. My son, Daddy, my son dropped dead and I had to watch as paramedics tried for nearly thirty minutes to resuscitate him. And I knew...I just knew full well I would never see him, hear him or hold him again. So no, you don’t get to stand there all high and mighty and preach to me of what could’ve been in a pretend world when you turned your back on me when I needed you because I wasn’t married when he was conceived. No, you don’t get to play the doting father when you’ve been nothing but bitter and angry. You had never even seen his face until he was seventeen.”

Jon stepped back as though her words pushed him. He sat on the front porch steps with his hand on his heart, catching his breath, as though her words had finally penetrated into his heart.

Abigail looked to Betty, who nodded toward Jon. She stepped up, looking down on him. “He lived a good life daddy. He was loved. And he loved with all his heart every day. Did you see how many came to his funeral? We even had to do multiple video setups for the people in other countries who he impacted. I think he just gave out so much love that his body was drained.” Abby took comfort from believing this. “The doctors said there was nothing anyone could’ve done.”

Abigail sat down, her voice level. “There was nothing we could’ve done Daddy. It was just his time.”

Looking across the street, Abigail didn’t expect Jon to suddenly throw his arms around her. His trembling shook her, as he spoke.  “I wasn’t ready to let Ozzie go. I just got to know him. He was my only grandson. Even at thirty-three years old, he still called me Pop-Pop.” Jon caught his breath. “I don't know what to do with all this pain.”

Abigail sunk her chin into Jon’s shoulder as the tears poured down her face. “I know Daddy, me too.”

Betty stood behind them, and tapped the broken door.

Abigail tapped Jon’s shoulder. “Daddy, we all lost Ozzie. You took your pain out on Betty. You have to fix the door you kicked in.”

Jon’s mouth fell open.

Defiance? “Daddy, don’t be stubborn now. You know you did wrong. You have to make it right.”

Jon looked away and nodded. “Hmph. All right. Easier to replace a door than a grandson.”

Betty chuckled and crossed her arms. “He sure did have a mouth on him though.”

They all broke into laughter. “Didn’t he though,” Jon said.

Betty pursed her lips. “Must have gotten it from his stubborn grandfather.”

“I’ll have your door fixed, you old hag,” said Jon. Abigail elbowed him in the ribs. “I’m sorry!” he said. “Is there anything else I can do?”

Betty smirked, “What, like bust my windows? No. Just heal. Hold your daughter, and heal. You weren’t there for them then so be there for her now. But I’ll get an estimate from my own repairman. You send the money and the work will be done.”

Jon frowned. 

“Daddy, that sounds like a deal. Just say okay,” said Abigail, losing her patience again.

He agreed with a grunt and stood up. “I’ll be on my way now. Abby. Betty.”

Betty took Abigail’s hand while they watched Jon leave. “You know, anything I want I can buy for myself. I don’t change things around here.”

“I noticed, but I’m glad for that.”

“And that’s why I don’t change. Safe haven means stability, unchanging places that loved ones can always come home and feel secure. We all need a place that we feel grounded to, where we can find comfort. Besides,” Betty winked at her. “When I want to live more lavishly I just go to one of my other six homes.”

Abigail removed those tiny shoes from her pocket, “Well, will this do? As payment?”

Betty’s eyes flooded with tears, “Oh my baby, are those what I think they are?”

It was hard to speak, her tears stole her words, she nodded. 

“Are you giving me Ozzie’s first pair of shoes?”

“You should have them.” But Abby still clutched the blue baby shoes.

A faraway look took over Betty’s eyes. “I bought him these little booties when he came home from the hospital. He laid in your arms and I put these shoes on his feet and I told him, ‘I will never treat you differently than my own. You will only know love and not fear. I will feed you and guide you to the best of my abilities. I will open up my heart to you boy and in return I want nothing. Just live, live this life that God has given you without regret.’"

“You loved Ozzie as if your own blood ran through his veins.”

Betty pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at Abby’s streaming tears. “Yes, these shoes will do, these will do nicely.”

Abigail had cried every tear she could. “And he did live his life. Every good thing that he did, came from you and what you put in him. People used to tell me all the time. He’s so well behaved, he's so pure. I would always tell them it’s nothing I did, you raised my son.” She glanced at the busted door with the peeling paint. “It’s funny how many times I’ve stood at this door, never thinking anything here would ever change. Something about it being broken is like a breakthrough. I hope that the new door will be a new beginning between you and me.” She passed the baby shoes into Betty’s hands. Betty held them remembering the baby Ozzie was and the man he grew to be. "Thank you Abby, for letting me love him. I'm better for having both of you in my life for whatever time allowed."