What Should Have Been

By Joni Berry

After leaving her hometown and first true love, Libby Bennett returns to begin her life anew. Years of abuse and deceit at the hands of her now ex-husband, Stephen, a big city attorney, have caused her to long for the simple, peaceful life of Clifton and the sort of life she knew as a child and teenager. Little does she know, Stephen lurks in the shadows with evil in his twisted mind. With the help of her lifelong friend, Maggie, and her husband, Libby would forge a new life for herself, beginning with opening a business of her own.
Handsome, strong, gentle, hardworking Ben Stewart, Libby’s first love, slowly reenters her life. Before long, the young couple have rekindled the love for each other they had never truly lost. All the while, Stephen is in the background—always dangerous, always a threat, always disrupting what should have been.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jun 4, 2019
• ISBN: 9781532075896

Joni Berry

Joni (pronounced Johnnie) Berry grew up in Charleston, MO in the southeast part of the state known as the Bootheel. She graduated from Charleston High School and attended Southeast Missouri State University, in Cape Girardeau, MO. She married her long time ‘crush’, Robert ‘Bob’ Berry in 1979. Together they have one son, Brad, his wife, Kristi, and their beautiful sons, Bennett & Bryson. Charleston, MO, with its many traditions, beautiful Victorian homes, flowering trees & shrubs, its close proximity to the great Mississippi River, as well as the people, offered a wonderful foundation for Joni’s imagination in writing her first book, What Should Have Been. The Berry’s now make their home in Jackson, MO, where Joni continues to explore her imagination, putting word to paper, in hopes of writing a sequel to Libby’s story, What Should Have Been.

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Copyright © 2019 Joni Berry.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Author Credits: Jonna K. Berry

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ISBN: 978-1-5320-7588-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-7589-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019905861

iUniverse rev. date:  05/31/2019

Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Acknowledgments

Dedication

The love of my life, my husband, Bob, for his continued love, understanding and support, as well as his encouragement in launching this project.

Chapter One

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Interstate. Why had she taken the interstate? She knew why. As always, Libby was behind on her personal schedule. She had planned to leave St. Louis by eight o’clock in the morning, taking the old highway from St. Louis south in order to stop in the many antique shops that dotted the countryside. But as usual something had gotten in her way. This time it was the movers.

The moving company had promised to be at her apartment no later than seven a.m. but did not show until nearly twelve-thirty. Libby had wanted to give them a few last minute instructions about packing some of her possessions, especially her antique roll top desk. The desk had been bought for Libby years earlier by her mother. It had survived moves, pubescent mood swings, and the divorce. Although, narrowly surviving the divorce.

Libby had grown very attached to the old desk over the years. Her mother, Kathleen, had found the desk in a junk store the summer Libby turned thirteen. She bought the desk and brought it home, thrilled with her find. At first, Libby thought the desk was in her words…a disaster but as her mother began to strip the layers of cracked brown, green and white enamel paint from the wood, Libby became interested in helping. As the layers came clean, Libby and Kathleen were delighted to find beautiful red oak lumber just waiting to be exposed.

How could anyone paint over such wonderful wood? Libby asked as she helped her mother scrape away the old paint.

Most people either don’t know what they’ve got, or they look for the easy way out. A paint brush and a bucket of paint is usually their answer, Kathleen had replied, brushing her bangs back from her forehead.

As Libby and Kathleen continued the painstaking work, Libby started to feel as though the desk had just been sitting back in anticipation of being discovered by her. That was the summer Libby became enchanted by antiques and in making what was old seem new again. Kathleen had always loved the search for treasures, as she liked to call them, now her daughter was hooked as well. Libby often reminisced about the summer of the desk with such fond memories. Memories that now seemed so long lost. Memories of a time when all seemed so right with her world.

But now due to such a late start, Libby would have to go by way of the interstate if she was going to make it to Maggie’s farm by four o’clock.

Maggie Grey Dawson, Libby’s long time friend, still lived in Clifton, their childhood home. Libby had moved from Clifton as a teenager but had always managed to keep in close contact with Maggie. over the years Libby had returned to Clifton a few times to visit with Maggie and was even able to be a member of Maggie’s wedding party. Now Libby was returning to her old hometown not just for a visit but to live and work there.

As the miles crept by Libby let her mind wonder, as she so often did on drives of any length. She thought of the day when she had first met Maggie…First grade, Mrs. Hency’s class. Libby had walked into the classroom feeling very alone and unsure of herself but there was Maggie, smiling and motioning for Libby to take the desk beside hers.

Maggie had strawberry blonde hair, freckles and was missing her two front teeth. As Libby looked at the little girl, she thought Maggie was just about the prettiest little girl she had ever seen, dressed in a blue gingham pinafore with white Go-Go boots and blue ribbons fastening her pigtails. Maggie’s beautiful hair was a source of fascination for Libby and had held her attention all day.

The girls had become fast-friends, a friendship that had lasted from that day forward. Now when Libby needed to start her life over, she could think of no better place to begin than back in Clifton with the help of her old trusted friend.

Thinking back over old times, Libby suddenly became aware of a sinking feeling in her stomach. She had experienced that same feeling time and time again over the years…a deep feeling of loss, a true feeling of the lack of closure. The annoying feeling was all too familiar, she knew it by heart and what, or rather who, had brought it on…Ben Stewart. As she drove along in silence, Libby could not help wondering what could have been if her life had taken a different direction and she had married Ben rather than Stephen.

Ben and Libby had been quite an item during High School. Ben was two years older than Libby and Libby adored him. The had dated from the second week of Libby’s freshman year in High School up until the time Ben went away to college. Actually, they continued to date whenever Ben came home from school, but that was the fall that Libby’s father retired and decided to move his family to Florida.

Suddenly, Libby’s train of thought was interrupted by a gust of wind from a passing semi-truck and trailer. Then in her rear view mirror Libby saw it. Her back stiffened and the hair on her arms began to crawl.

It can’t be, damn it, it can’t be, she sighed in frustration under her breathe. Just at that moment the black sports car Libby had noticed following close behind her signaled that it would be moving into the passing lane. Libby, although frightened, knew not to try to out run him. She maintained her speed and looked straight ahead.

As the black car pulled along side hers, Libby was more certain than ever that the man behind the dark glasses was her ex-husband, Stephen. She tried to keep her eyes on the road ahead, not giving her attention to the car or driver at her side but her fear was too great…she had to look. Libby slowly turned her head to peer into the mans face. As she did, she realized she was looking on the face of a total stranger, not that of the man she had finally ridded herself of after so many years of abuse and neglect.

She couldn’t help but say out loud, What an idiot. Libby you’re losing it. Why in the world would Stephen come after you now? You’re free of him. Don’t let paranoia get the best of you old girl.

After scaring the wits out of herself, Libby decided to switch on the radio, listening to some oldies and singing at the top of her lungs. Libby and Maggie had always enjoyed singing along with the radio as teenagers. They knew all the words to anything and everything released by Olivia Newton-John, Bread and Anne Murray. Unlike most of their classmates, they had always liked the softer easier listening music, with is catchy phrases and gentle flow. In fact, they were thought of as a little strange by the majority of their peers when it came to their taste in music, but that had never stopped the girls from listening to what they enjoyed. In this way and many others, they simply marched to the beat of their own drum.

As she drove, Libby started noticing once again how the landscape changed, ever so slowly but changed just the same as the miles rolled by. The area just south of St. Louis was filled with hills, many of which had large grayish-brown boulders exposed on their sides. As a child, Libby had pretended while driving along with her parents that Paul Bunyan had been throwing rocks one day and this is where they had landed. She noticed once again the small cedar trees that seemed to be hanging on by a thread as they grew from the side of stone cliffs made when the interstate was blasted through the hillsides. She had often wondered how those delicate looking saplings could possibly get enough nourishment from the stones to survive. Today she knew. One could nearly starve from the lack of nourishment or affection but the will to survive was still strong. Therefore, one simply dug their roots in very deeply and held on for dear life.

Libby saw herself as one of those lovely little cedars, for she too had weathered many storms and was now on her way to growing strong and setting down a good, deep, strong root system…or at least, that’s what she was hoping for.

Stephen, her thoughts always came back to Stephen, she realized as she drove on southward.

The last time she had been to Clifton was a little over two years ago and Stephen had made that trip a living hell. Maggie was getting married to a local boy, Ted Dawson, and had ask Libby to be in their wedding. Libby was to serve as a bridesmaid along with three other hometown girls. She was so thrilled to share this special time with Maggie and had looked forward to it for months. Stephen on the other hand, was not in the least pleased about the plan.

On the drive down, Stephen became especially abusive, letting Libby know exactly how he felt about her Hometown Hick Hillbilly Farmer Friends. He loved to poke fun at the people of the Clifton area by calling them Hillbillies. Libby always found that a particularly odd name for the Cliftonians, as the land in that part of the state was as flat as any tabletop.

Shortly, after their six month anniversary, Libby had made the mistake of correcting Stephen as to his error while they were attending a dinner party given by one of Stephen’s associates. She even went so far as to state that Stephen and his friend were the real hillbillies since the St. Louis area was far hillier than Clifton. Everyone at the dinner table had a good laugh at Stephen’s expense. Libby laughed too, not noticing the change in Stephen’s mood or the glare for her in his eyes. The remainder of the evening was very enjoyable, although Libby had noticed that Stephen had given her the cold shoulder since just after dinner.

Libby tried to shrug off Stephen’s behavior believing his late nights at the office were beginning to catch up with him. While she was having her drink refreshed at the bar, she was approached by Drake Andrews. Drake, a member of the McIntosh Law firm, was a pleasant young man but somewhat shy. He smiled a very sympathetic smile as Libby turned to face him. The expression of Drake’s face totally bewildered Libby. He leaned nearer and whispered, Don’t ever cross Stephen that way. I’m referring to your statement at dinner. Stephen is a very proud man and won’t tolerate being made to look small in front of his friends. Especially not by a woman, and most especially if that woman is his wife. Before Libby was able to respond, Drake had moved on. Libby stood motionless, not knowing quit what to make of Drake’s statement. Should he be taken seriously or was he just having fun with her? She would soon find out.

Moments after her meeting with Drake, Stephen came to her side. Grasping her upper arm very tightly, he said that it was time to leave. They sought out their hosts, thanked them for a lovely evening, and immediately left the house.

Stephen didn’t release his hold on Libby’s arm as they made their way to his car. Libby could feel his fingernails begin to dig into the tender flesh of her inner arm but said nothing, to much in shock to believe what was happening. Stephen walked very fast, not paying attention to the fact that he was causing Libby to practically run in her high heeled shoes to keep up with him. Upon arriving at the car, he opened the door, shoved Libby inside and slammed the door. Stephen went around the car, getting in on the drivers side. As he closed his door, Libby’s confused voice began, Stephen I…

Just as she was about to ask what the problem was, she felt the force of the back of Stephen’s hand strike her right cheek and eye. Libby was stunned, as pain zipped through her face. She couldn’t believe what had just taken place or understand why.

Stephen was out of control. He ranted the entire seven blocks to their home and for over an hour after getting inside. Libby was made to understand that she was never to embarrass him again, that a man in his position had to have respect. Especially from his wife.

The next afternoon a friend of Stephen’s came to pick him up for a round of golf. Upon surveying Libby’s eye the man whistled and asked, Who gave you the shiner?, as he pointed at her eye. Libby nervously laughed, touched her eye and answered that she had had a little too much to drink the night before at a dinner party and had run into an open door. The man seemed to accept her excuse without question. ‘Why shouldn’t he,’ Libby thought, ‘Stephen is a respectable attorney, he would never be so crude as to strike a woman.’ If people had only known the Stephen she had lived with, the monster she had known.

Turning her attention once again fully to the task of driving, Libby signaled into the passing lane to get around an old rusty, beat up farm truck with wooden stock racks on the bed holding a cargo of fat hogs. ‘Thank goodness the windows of her car were rolled up,’ she thought. Maneuvering back into the outside lane, Libby continued with her recollections of the past, concentrating on the trip to Clifton for Maggie and Ted’s wedding.

On their way to Clifton, Stephen had fuel for the fire once again. Barely speaking for the first hour of the trip, all at once Stephen had plenty to say. He started by demanding to know what lodging arrangements had been made for the two of them. Libby thought it strange that Stephen would wait until this time to make such an inquiry but she also recognized the was Stephen’s way of starting in on her. She began by telling him that Maggie’s parents, the Grey’s, had offered to put them up over the weekend at their home. She watched carefully as his mouth dropped open. Before Stephen had a chance to say anything, Libby continued on by telling him that she had told the Grey’s thank you, but that they would prefer to stay in a hotel.

Damn right we won’t stay with those hillbillies in the dirt floored shack! he began. They probably have an outhouse furnished with last years Sears-Roebuck catalog and bathing facilities thanks to a rain barrel and the last sudden cloud burst," he slurred.

Libby turned her head as she stared out the window, not really seeing the splendid scenery as they drove along. She thought to herself, as she shook her head slightly, cursing the tears that threaten to flow, ‘You’d be so ashamed if you could only see the beautiful modern two story brick house that the Grey’s call home.’

Libby stiffened her back and fought back tears with all her might. She wouldn’t let Maggie see her with red swollen eyes. She was sick of making excuses every time she ran into someone after one of Stephen’s tantrums. Tired of coming up with such lame excuse as, Oh pay no attention, my allergies are just flaring up again. As far as Libby knew, she was allergic to nothing.

So, just what marvelous accommodations have you made? Stephen snarled. Turning back to face her angry husband, Libby began to talk as fast as she possibly could, hoping to calm his rage.

When I last spoke to Mrs. Grey, she told me about a new motel in town. It’s called the Cliftonian. It’s only five years old, has a restaurant, lounge and pool. Mrs. Grey gave me the phone number, so I called and booked the VIP suite. It’s supposed to be very nice. It has a kitchenette, complete with a microwave and coffee maker, whirlpool bath and a patio door that opens right out onto the pool area. Maggie says it’s very nice as well. In fact, the rehearsal dinner will be held in the motel banquet room and a number of the other out-of-town wedding guests have booked rooms there.

Stephen sat silently as he drove. Libby could see the muscles in his jowl move as he ground his teeth. He was waiting…waiting she thought to get to the motel, there he could rip it and her to shreds. For the remainder of the drive, neither spoke a word. Libby sat nervously, wondering just how and when Stephen’s withheld rage would become visible.

Libby steered her car into the passing lane to get around a rather large motor home. As she returned to the outside lane, she once again took note of the countryside. She noticed how the steeper hills of the St. Louis area were relaxing, now becoming gentle rolling rises, dotted here and there with clusters of trees and etched throughout with small winding creeks. Funny, she thought, how these small bodies of water were known as creeks in the hill country but in and around Clifton they were called ditches.

The hills were covered with the relics of last years crops of corn, their discarded stalks just breaking through the remains of a slight snow covering. Much of the land in the area was used for pasture land or to grow tall fescue to be harvested into huge round bales of hay for cattle and horse feed. Libby loved the gentleness of the rolling fields. She had always found comfort in watching the rippling waters of the winding creeks as it made it’s way over the many rocks and boulders in the creek beds.

Once again Libby allowed her mind free-run, as thoughts crept back to Maggie’s wedding.

As the car pulled up the church, Libby saw Maggie standing at the end of the parking lot. Libby was so thrilled to see her dear friend. She rolled down the window of the car and shouted out Maggie’s name. Maggie turned, seeing Libby she trotted toward the car.

Stephen let out a loud sigh of disgust, as he shifted the car into park, Must you act so uncivilized? Haven’t I taught you anything? His harshness would normally cut Libby to the bone, but not this time. Her joy in seeing Maggie was far too exhilarating.

Libby sprang from the car and ran into Maggie’s open arms, as the two embraced. Libby was aware that this juvenile display of affection would aggravate Stephen further, but she didn’t care, nor could she stop herself. She felt sixteen again, with all the silliness and giddiness of a teen. Being embraced by Maggie made Libby feel so loved. Loved for who she was rather than what she looked like or any other superficial reasons.

Stephen joined Libby and her friend. Libby watched as Stephen’s face gleamed with one of his most charming smiles. As Stephen was introduced to everyone, Libby was certain Stephen was putting on one of his best performances, he couldn’t possibly be sincere. Stephen voice echoed loudly as he told Maggie how very happy they were that they were able to share in her special day. ‘What a fraud,’ Libby thought as her husband continued to work the small group gathered outside the church. ‘How good Stephen is at charming people.’ Libby shook her head briskly, as if to erase the thoughts from her mind. She was too happy to be home again with her friends, she wouldn’t allow Stephen to rain on her parade, not this day.

The wedding rehearsal went smoothly, or at least as smoothly as any wedding rehearsal ever went. The entire wedding party then moved to the Cliftonian Banquet Hall for the rehearsal dinner. On the short drive to the motel, Stephen simply couldn’t wait to make snide remarks about everything from the way people spoke, to the clothing they wore. Of course, everything he had to say was negative. Just as they were getting out of the car at the Banquet Hall, Stephen made some nasty comment about fried chicken and ’naner puddin’ being served for dinner.

Before she thought, Libby quipped back at him, It’s okay, if you get heartburn, I’ve got antacids in my purse. That is if you have a heart.

No sooner than the biting words left her lips, Libby realized that she had made a colossal mistake. She jerked her head to face Stephen over the top of the car. His dark eyes were ablaze, as they seemed to shoot hot daggers through Libby. Raising his finger to point at her, Stephen spoke in a low, very authoritative, threatening voice, This isn’t over Elizabeth, of that you can be damned sure. Go to your Hillbilly Supper, I’ll see you later in our room.

Libby opened her mouth, hoping to be able to apologize to Stephen. Before the first utterance could come forth, Stephen was back in the car. He locked the car doors, started the engine and pulled away. Libby watched as the car approached the motel office. Stephen parked the car, stepped from the car and without looking her way, headed straight for the main entrance. A few minutes later, Stephen came out, got into the car once again and drove to a