Be Someone's Betsy

It had been several months since the funeral of her best friend Betsy. Theresa sat in the living room of Betsy’s house alone in awkward silence. She sighed heavily as she sank deeply into the worn leather couch and stared blankly into the flickering flames in the fireplace. She couldn’t help but replay the lifetime of memories the two of them made in this room. All the laughs and tears were just not supposed to turn to memories this soon. She wondered if she would ever find a way to fill the gaping hole left in her life.

Betsy was the kind of person who never remembered birthdays or anniversaries. She loved holidays but didn’t get caught up in Christmas shopping. She was never the materialistic type. She always commented that she didn’t need a day to do something for someone. When she wanted to love on her people, she wouldn’t wait for their birthday, she did it right then and there. Theresa recalled a time when she herself was between jobs and was not able to make her car note. They sat in this very room, Theresa crying on Betsy’s shoulder and worrying how things could possible work out. When Theresa got home, she found an envelope in her purse that contained four one-hundred-dollar bills, enough to cover the payment. Theresa knew Betsy discretely placed it there because she would have refused to take the money if it was offered. Betsy never wanted recognition for what she did. She did it because it needed doing and she could.

Theresa noticed the flames had died down to glowing embers and the shorthand on the clock had ticked well past seven. She took a deep breath, wiped the tears from her cheeks, shook her head and said aloud, “Come on, this isn’t getting anything done, lets get to work.” She still talked to her friend as if she were in the same room. “Where do you want me to start tonight?” she said as she heaved herself from the oversized cushions. As she did this, the large oak china cabinet caught her eye. This piece stood in the dining room as long as she could remember. It had belonged to Betsy’s mother; the cabinet matched the table and high-backed chairs that sat as the focal point in the room. It was a beautiful piece with beveled glass doors at the top and three drawers below. Theresa never had cause to open the drawers, she assumed they contained linens and other dinner service items. However, tonight curiosity got the better of her.

She walked across the hardwood floor, sliding one of the dining room chairs over to the china cabinet. She opened the top drawer. Just as she expected there were tablecloths and linen napkins from around the world. Betsy’s family loved to travel; they had traversed the globe. Theresa carefully lifted each of the pieces from the drawer and placed them in the waiting cardboard box. It was a difficult task she had taken on, but she reminded herself it must be done. Theresa reached for the antique glass knobs to open the second drawer; she was met with the resistance expected of an old oak piece. Exasperated, Theresa quipped, “Come on Bets, gimmie a break would ya!” Just as she said this, the drawer flung open with a jerk. “VERY FUNNY” she yelled as she toppled from the chair, landing with a thud. She found herself covered in brass napkin rings, crochet doilies and hundred-dollar-bills. In the middle of this mess lay a small black leather covered journal. Theresa was flabbergasted. She sat for a moment staring at the mess. Her first thought was to wonder if this was one of Betsy’s practical jokes and the money wasn’t real, it would have been like her to do something like that. She instinctively reached for the journal.

The leather cover was well-warn with tattered corners and a spine creased and cracked from constant use. She could feel Betsy’s presence with her. She muttered “just like you, full of surprises,” as she slid her finger under the elastic band holding the book closed. On the yellowed pages she found the familiar scribblings in her friend’s handwriting. She ran her fingers across the ink-filled depressions and could almost hear Betsy’s voice as she read the words. This was the journal that Betsy never intended to be made public. Gracing the pages were entries and tallies of the one-hundred-dollar bills she placed in the book. Also, the journal told the story of the multitude of ways these bills had been passed on to others. Helping friends, family and even strangers in times of need. It took Theresa a bit to realize just what she was holding. To confirm her thoughts, she flipped through the pages to the date corresponding to her own struggles. There at the bottom of the page was a note that read “4 to T for car” and the date. Simple, unassuming, no one else would have known what the words meant, but Theresa did. On the inside cover Betsy had written, “do what you can, when you can, it will come back to you.” Theresa was astonished at the shear number of entries and dates in the journal. It read like a musical score of kindness, a testament to Betsy’s nature. The tears had ceased and were replaced by the knowing grin of friendship, the twinkle in her eye and the smirk of knowing. Theresa knew what Betsy was trying to tell her. “I got ya!” she said as she turned and looked at the floor around her.

Theresa gathered the bills, stacking them neatly on the dining room table. There were two hundred in total. Two-hundred opportunities to change someone’s life. Two-hundred ways that she and Betsy could share their friendship with others. Theresa slipped the journal in the pocket of her hoodie and smiled. She knew it was her turn to be someone’s Betsy.