Heart of the Country (9 page)

20

T
HEY’D BOUGHT A HOUSE
a few years ago, a big step up from the tiny rental they’d started in. Olivia was married and pregnant at twenty, like most girls from around here. The wedding was small. I was the maid of honor.

It took only five minutes to get to her house. It was brick, modest but pretty. A beautiful flower garden framed the porch, and wooden wind chimes hung near the front door. A stone frog was perched in the mums. The grass blades looked soft, deep green, perfect for running barefoot in. I hopped out of the truck and threw off my shoes, walking through the grass as if it were sand on the beach. Oh, that felt good. Was that fescue?

Suddenly the screen door flew open and out came Nell in a beautiful blue dress, way fancier than I’d expect for just a dinner. “Hi!” she said as she ran up.

“Hi there.”

She leaned into me. “I’m going to call you Aunt anyway.”

Didn’t know what that meant, but I smiled. “You can call me anything you’d like.”

“Where are your shoes?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“Back in the truck. Don’t you go barefoot around here?”

“’Course. All the time. But I liked your shoes. They had jewels on them.”

“They’re my favorite,” I told her with a wink.

“Maybe sometime you can spend the night with me. I got two sleeping bags.”

“You do? I’d love that.”

“Do you like princess movies?”

“Definitely.”

Nell grinned. “You’re my new favorite toy.”

I laughed. “And I don’t even need batteries!”

Dad walked up, smiling as he ruffled Nell’s hair. “Hey, kiddo.”

The door opened again and Hardy came out. He had a beard now and was a bit gray around the temples. His kind eyes were unchanged. “My goodness! Faith, welcome. I’m so glad you’re home.” He greeted me with a warm hug.

“Hi, Hardy.”

“Olivia’s in the kitchen, fixing dinner like we’re feeding an army.”

“Your house looks so beautiful.”

“Aw, thanks. It was quite a fixer-upper when we first got it. I’m a fan of mustard on my hot dogs but not on the walls and carpet. At any rate, come on in.”

Nell took my hand and we walked in. Behind me Hardy and Dad got caught up in some conversation about tractors.

Inside, I could smell the comfort of the home-cooked meal. Olivia turned, apron on, wiping her hands with a dishrag. “Hi there!” Her voice chirped with politeness but not yet with kindness. Still, she smiled and beckoned me closer. “Come on in.”

“Thanks,” I said. “You didn’t have to do this, Liv.”

“Nonsense. Anyway, there’s no cake. Sorry about that.”

“Cake? Gosh, no worries. I don’t eat cake much.”

Dad trailed in behind me. “Hey, Liv.”

“No cake, Dad.”

“What?”

“Sorry. We had a mishap with the eggs.”

I glanced at Dad, surprised to see genuine disappointment on his face. Maybe I had underrated the power of cake. “Your table looks beautiful.” It was decorated with a pumpkin and some fake fall leaves, with two orange candles in the center.

Someone tugged on my shirt. I looked down to find Victoria staring up at me. “I’m going to be a Ninja Turtle for Halloween.”

Olivia laughed. “That’s my tomboy right there. Climbs trees. Has sword fights. Would die before she wore a tiara.”

“You sound tough,” I said to her.

“I can lift a bowling ball.”

“Wow. That is tough.”

“Dinner’s served,” Olivia called.

“Not eating on the TV trays?” Dad asked as he walked into the dining room. Again, he was kind of pouting like a kid.

“Dad . . . ,” Olivia said in a chiding sort of way. “We have a special guest with us. She deserves more than a TV tray.”

The word
guest
stung, but I figured Olivia already knew that.

We sat down and Dad said grace. When was the last time I’d prayed? At least this kind of prayer. Yeah, I’d thrown up some desperate prayers lately, but nothing calm. Nothing meaningful.

I looked up after the “Amen” to find Olivia watching me. She glanced away as she passed the potatoes.

“Been meaning to ask you when you decided to grow your hair out so long,” Olivia said.

I tucked my hair behind my ears.

“Saw in the tabloids at the grocer that a bunch of celebrity types were wearing it the same way. Guess that’s the thing.” She handed me the radishes. “You always looked better with it shorter, I think. Better for your face.”

“Looks real nice, Faith,” Hardy said.

That created a perfectly awkward moment, saved only by Nell, who said, “I think you look like a princess.”

Victoria piped in, “If she’s got muscles, she could be a pro wrestler.”

Nell glared at her. “She doesn’t look like a wrestler, Vic.”

“I’m just sayin’, she could be one if she wants.”

“Girls,” Olivia said.

“Okay,” Victoria said, not skipping a beat, “maybe not a wrestler. I know! A rock star!”

I smiled at her. “Not in this lifetime.” But I was kind of dying. I didn’t want to be the topic of conversation.

Luckily Dad bailed me out. “Hardy, I heard you guys got in a little hunting yesterday.”

“Got a five-point buck.”

“Did you really?” Dad set down his fork. “Whereabouts?”

“Down in the runs
 
—about a quarter mile from Jeffrey’s crossroads.”

“They’re running down there this year?”

Hardy nodded, and I enjoyed my meal and the conversation. When I was a kid, I hated all the talk about hunting. But now it soothed me, like gentle thunder rolling across the plains.

Olivia sliced her meat, but her eyes looked sharper than the knife. “Hardy tried a new marinade. Like it?” She left my gaze and glanced around the table, I guess so she wouldn’t look inappropriate.

But I was sure she wanted to see my expression when I realized I was eating deer meat.

“Tender,” Dad said.

“I tried to put in a little more lemon juice this time . . . added a teaspoon.”

“That’s a good idea.”

I nodded my agreement but pushed the meat to the side. Wasn’t a big meat eater anyway. And Olivia knew
Bambi
was my favorite movie. Man, she was stooping low.

“So where’s Luke?”

Or maybe lower. I measured my response. “He’s in New York.”

“Has he ever been down here? I realize he hasn’t been to Columbus County, but I meant North Carolina in general.”

“No. Never been.” It was getting harder to stay measured. I kept my knife in my hand even though I was just eating the mashed potatoes now.

“To each his own.” Olivia shrugged.

I set down my utensils and stared at her.

“No insult intended,” she said, slicing her way through her own bull. “I mean, it’d be great if Luke visited. I just think family’s important, that’s all.”

“And I don’t?”

Olivia looked at me. Her expression said everything.
This is my turf. You ran away. I wish you’d never returned.
She sat straighter, her eyebrows raised like she was lecturing a child. “I don’t know, Faith. I guess actions speak louder than words in my book.”

I glanced at Dad. He looked as wounded as the deer we were eating.

“Funny how family can be a pain and you just think,
Why bother?
Then you get fed up with your snotty Yankee husband, and here you are.”

“That’s enough, Olivia.” Dad threw his napkin on the table.

Now Olivia looked wounded. Her eyes swelled with held-back tears. “She hasn’t been home in what, ten years?”

“Now listen to me. You are sisters. We’re gonna sit here and have dinner. And tomorrow we’re gonna go to church together. And that’s it.” Dad picked up his napkin, folded it, and continued eating. Hardy did the same. The girls looked like they’d never seen anything like this before.

“Ole number nine won Richmond again.” Hardy had put a gentle hand on Olivia’s shoulder. She shrugged it off.

“Saw that, Hardy. I’ll tell you, that’s the best team in racing.”

“It’s not the driver. It’s the car.”

“You still gotta get in there and press the gas, though.”

The two men went on to talk. Olivia stared at her plate, cutting food she never intended to eat. I did the same. We were as far apart as two people could be. Except for maybe Luke and me. But then again, Luke didn’t hate me.

21

“S
HE’S BACK!”

I felt air fill my lungs. I heard a harsh wheeze near me.

“I got her. Get there, Angie!” His face bent close to mine. “I’m right here. Stay with me.”

“She’s conscious?” A woman’s voice.

“Just drive,” he said. He raised a bloody glove to his forehead, wiped some sweat droplets clinging to his skin.

Music suddenly filled my ears, but I realized it came from a memory. It was the band playing at homecoming. I could almost feel the taffeta in my fingers as I remembered that day. I’d never felt prettier in my life. My dad had sprung for me
to get my hair professionally done, and they did it up like a princess. Curls and beautiful, sparkly bobby pins.

We were all lined up on the football field. I was shivering in the November air as I tried to look poised. The stands were crowded, people huddled in twos and threes under blankets. I’d sung the national anthem earlier
 
—the biggest thrill I’d ever had. I got a standing ovation!

Then, there he was. I knew him. Everybody did. He was the quarterback for our football team, and as handsome and tall as you could imagine. We ran in different circles, but in our community everybody knew everybody.

The band hit its cue . . . I can’t even remember exactly what they were playing . . . but we walked across the field, met halfway, and I locked my arm around his. He grinned at me as I did, and I felt my whole body tingle. I sure didn’t want to show it, though. I smiled at him and then focused on the walk we had together, and his biceps, as they announced our names.

I held my shoulders back, my head up high, and hoped I’d be picked for homecoming queen because that would mean I’d get to kiss Cal Barnett.

I was maybe holding on a little too tight as we took our place, watching the other homecoming candidates come down the field. He patted my hand and whispered, “It’ll be all right.”

And then it’s kind of a blur. They called our names and I took his lead. We walked forward, the two of us, and stood
under this metal archway that had been decorated with streamers and balloons.

Everyone was cheering so loud I couldn’t hear myself think. But he stared at me like we were the only two people in the universe. He leaned in and I closed my eyes because I’d never kissed a boy before. But I didn’t want it to look that way. I’d been practicing in my bedroom
 
—me and my mirror.

And then I felt his lips. On my cheek? I opened my eyes and he pulled back. He’d kissed me on the cheek? The roar of the crowd died down a little bit because people expected a good kissing show, I guess. I looked into his eyes and they sparkled, and I realized he’d given me a kind of gift that you just can’t buy . . . respect. He respected me enough to not make a show of it. We held the gaze for a moment, and then he turned and waved, and the crowd went crazy. I followed his lead, clinging tightly to him.

And from that day forward, I never let go.

“Don’t let go!” His frantic voice jolted me. I didn’t understand why he sounded so scared. I was alive, wasn’t I? I could remember things. Why was he yelling at me?

I imagined one of my daughters with this good-looking kid. I had to see them get married. I had to. Olivia was dating a good kid named Hardy, and it was looking to get serious. Calvin really liked him, said he was a man of character. But Faith, she had a more fragile heart, and I knew it was going to have to be someone who understood that.

Waves of pain took my breath away. My body felt like it was exploding from the inside out. I clenched my teeth.
I didn’t want to let go. I didn’t. But I was certain people didn’t live through this kind of pain. I thought my body was supposed to go into shock. And then maybe it did because I saw Cal’s face, smiling at mine, even though I knew he wasn’t there with me.

22

C
OLUMBUS
C
OUNTY
C
OMMUNITY
C
HURCH
had been standing since 1872. All the original pews were in their places, and firmly planted in each pew sat the descendants of those who’d built it. If you were in the choir, you still sat with the congregation; otherwise the attendance would look awfully sparse. According to Dad, the choir didn’t even sing every Sunday anymore. I walked in with Dad and took a deep breath as I smelled the pine.

Dad sat us in the fifth row on the right side, the same place he’d been sitting since I was born. Mr. and Mrs. Fischer were next to us. Boy, they’d aged. Mrs. Fischer had a cane,
and both of them wore glasses now. They didn’t seem to recognize me. I smiled, but maybe they couldn’t see well.

I noticed Olivia behind us on the left side, with her family. The church still seemed to struggle with membership, like always. I remember my parents being some of the youngest members, and Olivia and I being two of only a handful of children.

I didn’t attend church, not once, while I was in New York. Life was busy. Sundays were for catching up on rest or anything else that you didn’t get done during a week that more times than not was just a blur. But I often noticed the gorgeous cathedrals that marked some of the busiest corners in Manhattan. I loved stained glass. It reminded me of this church’s. I sat quietly next to Dad, admiring the filtered light that glowed through the glass like the air had been watercolored.

I glanced back at Olivia once, and she gave me the stink eye. Essie Mae, one of my favorite women from the church, had an ongoing feud with Adeline Starks, and it was all because Essie Mae felt Adeline always gave her “the stink eye.” Hard to define, but when you saw it, you knew it. Just as I chuckled at that memory, I saw Essie Mae ahead, talking with another parishioner.

It felt good to be here, even if I had Laser Eyes behind me.

“Your sister’s bark is worse than her bite.”

I glanced at Dad, startled. What, had he read my mind? “Olivia is Olivia,” I sighed.

“She does love you.”

“I’m not so sure about that, Dad.”

His rebuttal was cut short by the sharp moan of the organ. Everyone abruptly stood. Was that Eliza, still on the organ? She was so hunched her nose nearly hit the keys.

Dad smiled at me. “Yep. That’s her.”

“How old is she?” I whispered.

“Nobody knows for sure. She keeps lying and saying she’s in her eighties.”

I sang the hymns. Knew most of them by heart. Dad didn’t even bother opening the hymnal. I had the voice, but you would’ve thought Dad had the microphone. He was belting it all out, his voice just a decibel under the entire church combined.

The pastor was new. It didn’t surprise me. This church rotated pastors in and out every two or three years. The young ones came, did their time, then went on to bigger and better. Drove my dad nuts. I still remember Sunday dinners and Dad ranting about it.

Ironically, or maybe not, the sermon was on forgiveness. My mind wandered a lot, back to Luke, where I really didn’t want it to go. We had a lot of fairy-tale moments. Our first anniversary was in Africa. We’d attended galas and openings and benefits all over the world. I’d never had money before and swore I wouldn’t get attached to it, but it was a strange thing to not have to choose between this and that, or to not weigh the cost of anything. I’d grown comfortable in life for the first time since Momma died. My life was protected on all sides, so I thought.

“You just going to sit there all day?”

I snapped my attention upward to find Dad standing over me, waiting for me to exit the pew.

“Sorry.” I quickly stood, grabbed my purse, filed into the center aisle. Outside, the sun was bright, washing white light over the brick stairs, where Dad stood shaking hands in his weekly ritual. I liked watching him. He was kind, sincere, not just shaking the hand but taking in the whole arm, starting at the elbow.

“Last time I saw that dress, it was in a SoHo window.”

I turned, first glancing down at my dress to see what in the world I was wearing. It was a Tory Burch, with chunky colors and a bit too short for this crowd. I looked up.

“Lee?”

“Here it is in Columbus County. Small world.”

“How are you!” I hugged him and stepped back. I hadn’t seen him in . . . years. I longed to see a friendly, fish-out-of-water face. But I wasn’t sure I wanted it to be Lee’s. He reminded me of so many things I wanted to forget. I tried to keep my wide smile. We were never more than acquaintances
 
—his aunt went to our church, and he was a few years older
 
—but sometimes lives collide in unexpected ways, as ours had.

“What have you been up to?” I asked, trying to fill that awkward silence that seemed to follow me everywhere.

“I’m a doctor now. Just started in the ER over in Whiteville.”

“You’re kidding!”

“Is that a shock?”

“The same guy who couldn’t manage to make time to study in high school?”

“Turns out you can’t make much of a living coasting on old football glories.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “So . . . where’s Luke?”

“Still in New York . . .” I didn’t know what else to say, but thankfully Dad seemed to sense my predicament.

“Dr. Lee! Good to see you!” He waved from a few feet away, then pointed to his foot. “I got a thing on my toe. Can I talk to you?”

Lee smiled. “Duty calls.” He walked over to Dad.

I’d barely caught my breath when another person stood between me and the sun, casting a shadow over an already dark-side-of-the-moon me. “Essie Mae,” I said.

She took my chin in her wobbly hand. “You look just like your momma. I’d swear she was standing here right now if I didn’t know better. But I am getting up in age, so maybe I’m having one of those dementia streaks.”

I grinned and hugged her. Before we could continue our conversation, Olivia was by our sides.

“Hi, Olivia,” I said, hoping that stink eye was going to cut me some slack.

Essie Mae patted Olivia’s shoulder. “Don’t you look pretty in that new coat.”

“Hardy got me this from that new outlet down in Myrtle Beach the other day. No occasion. Nothing. Just came home with it.”

“Now that is something.”

“He’s a good man.”

Essie Mae might have been having a dementia streak, but nothing was lost on her. She knew Olivia was sticking the knife in. I could see it in her eyes.

“Isn’t it wonderful to have your sister back with us?” she said, now patting us both on the arms. “I’ll tell you what, nothing is as special as family.”

“Absolutely,” Olivia said, and she cast a glance at me. For once, it didn’t look like it wanted to pierce and mutilate my soul. “Absolutely, Miss Essie.”

“Well, you two, I better get myself to the kitchen. Sunday dinner to make.”

“You’re still cooking?” I asked.

“Every Sunday, right, Essie?” Olivia asked.

“They keep eating it. Don’t know why. That last roast was so tough that I told it to go try out for the football team.”

We laughed and watched her maneuver down the steps with her cane, stopping to say hi to Dad, who was still talking to Lee.

“I love that woman,” I said.

Olivia said, “Hmm,” and nodded slightly. “I hate to see her so sick. I don’t know how much longer we’ll have her.”

“She’s ill?”

“That’s what happens, Faith. We don’t just freeze in a time capsule while you’re living it up in New York. People get old.”

“Listen,” I said, trying to cool the waters a little. “I know. We need to talk.”

“Do we?”

“You’re my sister, Olivia.”

“You and Daddy are coming over for Sunday dinner. We can talk then.” And she was gone, skipping down the steps and joining her family. Nell waved at me and I waved back. Victoria showed me her muscles. I laughed as Dad walked up to me.

“Have you met our new preacher?”

I looked at him across the lawn, a circle of blue-haired women surrounding him. “He seems to have a way with the ladies.”

Dad laughed. “Yeah. Well, these ladies see anything younger than fifty and they start batting eyelashes that fell out a decade ago.”

“Dad!” I said, hitting him on the arm.

“What?” He smiled. “Pastor Jim’s a good man. You should talk to him. He’s pretty good with problems, stuff like that.” Dad wasn’t a man of many words, and with that, we walked toward his old F-150. I opened the door and was surprised to find an array of red roses, at least a dozen, on the seat.

“What is this?” I asked.

“They were on the altar. In memory of your mom.”

I stared at them for a moment, then picked them up and put them on my lap and shut the door as Dad started the truck.

“Did you put them there?”

“Every year.”

And that was the end of the discussion. I rolled down the window and let the breeze take the strong scent away. I remembered my mom smelling like roses. It was her perfume.

I knew it. Everybody knew it. But nobody had said out loud that it was Mom’s birthday. And most likely, nobody would. In New York, I never celebrated it with anything like roses on the altar, but it never passed without me sending up a thought to her. Here, I felt closer, like maybe she was just one block over or something.

I held the roses in my lap as we drove away.