The Man, The Moon And The Marriage Vow Page 8

  He stayed for a while after that and even said yes to a can of orange soda. They talked of how her shop was doing and how his business was quite brisk. She told him about the shop in Santa Fe and how much she’d loved it.

  “But I love Wishbook more, because I love North Magdalene so much. After all, my family’s here.”

  Erik said he knew just what she meant. He was glad to be home again himself, to tell the truth.

  After she walked him to the door, Evie floated back into the living room and dropped to the couch. Life was wonderful, it really was, when one had a special friend.

  The next day, the girls came to the shop again after school. Evie produced Chippy for Becca. The little one carried the toy around the store with her as Jenny pitched in on the book display Evie was putting together in a back corner.

  A half an hour after the girls came in, another child around Jenny’s age appeared. Jenny introduced the newcomer as Peg Clark and said they’d made friends in school just today. Peg quickly became involved with the display, too, helping to arrange the low bookshelves to form a reading nook, setting the books out to look inviting, positioning a stool and an old rocking chair just so, to tempt any browsers to sit for a while.

  Not long after Peg’s appearance, Peg’s mother, Tondalaya Clark, came in looking for her daughter. When she saw the girls were having fun, she said that Peg could stay awhile. Before she left, she bought four children’s books that Peg had pointed out she’d like to read.

  A few minutes after Mrs. Clark left, the bell over the door rang again. It was Amy Riggins Jones. Amy’s little daughter, Bathsheba, toddled along at her side.

  “Hi, Aunt Amy,” Jenny called from the corner where she and Peg were still at work.

  Amy allowed Bathsheba to join the other children, once they’d solemnly promised to keep a close eye on the three-year-old. As soon as her daughter was off with the others, Amy explained to Evie that she was looking for a new dress. Then she ruefully patted her round belly. “Do you think you can fit me?” She was seven months pregnant with her second child.

  Evie promised to give it her best shot.

  However, since Evie didn’t sell maternity clothes per se, finding the right dress did present something of a challenge. There was much laughter and happy chatter as the children kept busy in the corner and the two women plowed through Evie’s racks of dresses, looking for something that might work. At last, Evie pulled out a jumper with a high Empire waist and a tie back. Amy tried it on and loved it.

  Evie was ringing up the sale when the entry bell chimed once more. Evie looked up, her professional smile of greeting freezing on her face as Nellie Anderson marched in the door.

  “Hello, Evie,” Nellie said, clutching her ubiquitous clipboard to her bony chest. “I’ve come to firm up your commitment to Septemberfest.”

  Evie looked at Amy, who wore the same grim expression Evie knew was on her own face.

  “Good afternoon, Amy,” Nellie said stiffly.

  Amy inclined her head. “Miz Anderson.”

  Nellie turned to Evie again. “Is this a bad time?”

  It was, of course. A very bad time. The granddaughters Nellie pretended didn’t exist were over in the corner, giggling and whispering as they went about their task.

  Evie almost told Nellie that another time would be better. But then she held her tongue. The children lived in the same town with the woman. They were going to meet up with her every now and then.

  And just maybe, the more often they met up, the more likely that Nellie Anderson would come to understand just what wonderful kids she was turning her back on.

  “No,” Evie said. “Now would be fine.”

  Amy said, “I think I’ll look around a little more.”

  “Go right ahead,” Evie replied, understanding Amy’s intention completely. If there was going to be any unpleasantness, Aunt Amy would be there to protect her own.

  Nellie approached the counter, apparently still oblivious to the fact that the childish voices in the back belonged to her own grandchildren. She coughed officiously and slid a typed sheet of phone numbers from under the clip on her clipboard. “Now. What I’d like you to do is to call these people tonight—tomorrow at the latest. Remind them that we must have those donations of clothing and baked goods delivered to the church by eight in the morning Saturday.” Nellie gave a small, put-upon sigh. “People just don’t seem to remember their long-range commitments like they used to. They need to be reminded, or they don’t deliver as promised. It’s unfortunate, but these are troubled times.”

  Evie took the sheet. “I’ll be glad to make the calls, Nellie.”

  “Good. And I have you down for a personal donation of—”

  “Two cakes and ten dozen cookies, I think it was.”

  “Right. Exactly.” She looked up and her lips twitched in what was probably intended as a smile. “So. It’s all settled. You know what you have to do?”

  “Oh, yes. I know.”

  “Well, then, I’ll be on my—”

  Right then, from back in the corner, Amy called, “Becca, no! Come back. Evie’s busy right now…”

  But it was too late. Becca was there, clutching Chippy to her heart, and staring up, openmouthed, at the thin woman who gaped back at her in white-faced disbelief.

  Chapter Seven

  There was a long, awful pause. Nellie gripped her clipboard so tightly, Evie feared it might crack in two.

  And then Becca asked in a puzzled voice, “Are you my grandma? My brother, Petey, says you are.”

  Nellie went on staring at the child. For a moment, Evie thought the older woman wouldn’t be able to speak. But then she whispered, with great difficulty, “I…yes, I am.”

  “Oh.” Becca held out her chipmunk. “This is Chippy.”

  Amy, who’d run to Becca’s rescue and was now standing a few feet behind the child, made a small, bewildered sound. She opened her mouth—and then closed it without speaking when she saw Nellie Anderson solemnly shake the stuffed animal’s paw.

  “How d’you do, Chippy?” Nellie asked with absolute seriousness.

  “He’s fine,” Becca answered for the toy.

  “Well, that’s good. Very good,” Nellie told the child. Then she looked up at Evie and spoke in a voice so brittle it was painful to hear. “I really do have to be going now.” She held up the clipboard. “So much to do.” She actually giggled, a frantic sound. “So little time.”

  Evie wanted to reach out and soothe the older woman with a touch. Instead, she remained scrupulously nonchalant. “Of course. But come back anytime.”

  “Yeah,” Becca said. “Me and Jenny are here lots. We like it here.”

  “I…maybe I will return sometime soon. Maybe I just will.” Nellie backed toward the door. She opened it without turning and slid out still facing the inside of the shop.

  As soon as the door was shut, Amy put her hand on her big stomach, as if to soothe the tiny one within. She shook her head. “Did that really happen?”

  Evie had no chance to answer, because Becca had stepped up and wrapped her fingers around Evie’s thumb. “Come on, Evie. Come see. The book place is all done.”

  Erik called that night at a little after ten.

  “The kids are in bed and my sister Tawny’s here. I really need to talk, Evie.”

  “Then come on over. That’s what friends are for.”

  He was there in seven minutes and forty-three seconds. She gave him an orange soda and they sat at the kitchen table.

  He said, “Amy told me. About Nellie coming in today, while the girls were here.”

  His big hand rested on the table. Evie longed to cover it with her own, but she didn’t quite dare.

  He was watching her. “You said you knew, about Carolyn’s illness and about how she died. Did you also know that Carolyn was Nellie’s daughter?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know that Carolyn and I moved away because Nellie disowned her, when she married me?”

&n
bsp; “Yes.”

  Erik focused on the middle distance, somewhere over Evie’s shoulder. She wondered if he could see the past there. “Carolyn never really forgave me for that, for costing her Nellie’s love.”

  “Did Carolyn say that?”

  “No. She would never admit it. But sometimes, even in the good years, I’d come home from work and her eyes would be all red and puffy. She’d be smiling, but I’d know that she’d been crying, missing Nellie. I’d ask her what was wrong, but she’d insist there was nothing.” He sighed. “She was real close to her mom.”

  “Oh, Erik…”

  The big hand that was lying on the table clenched into a fist. “Over the years, I’ve tried to be careful, with the kids, not to say bad things about Nellie, not to turn them against her. You know what I mean?”

  “Um-hmm.”

  “I want…I want my kids to have both of their grandmothers, can you understand that?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “It’s one of the reasons I came home—not the main reason, but one of them. To make my peace with Nellie.” He drank from his can of soda, then set it down and stared at it as if something important might be written on the side. “Carolyn and I tried several times over the years to work things out with Nellie. But the woman is just too damn stiffnecked. She wouldn’t come around. When Carolyn started having her troubles, I called Nellie. Nellie told me it was all my fault, and then hung up on me.”

  “Erik, I’m so sorry…”

  He looked up from the soda can and forced a smile. “Hey. That’s how it goes sometimes. There are people who just never let go of old hurts.”

  Evie hastened to reassure him. “I’m not sure Nellie’s that bad. I really think she wants to get to know those girls.”

  He nodded. “I agree. I think that Carolyn’s death has changed her, just a little.”

  “How so?”

  “I think she’s softened. Not much, but some. Last November, when Carolyn died, I called Nellie and told her. She said ‘Thank you’ in this tiny voice, and hung up the phone. I called her a day later and told her that the funeral would be here, in North Magdalene, at the Community Church. She thanked me again, very civil and low.”

  “Did she go to the funeral?”

  “Yeah. She didn’t speak to me or anything. She stood off to the side, her face even more pinched looking than usual. But just the fact that she was there meant something.”

  “Yes. Yes, I can see how it would.”

  “And since we’ve been home, I’ve…I don’t know, I’ve tried to think of a way to approach her again. I’ve felt like she might be willing now.”

  “I think you’re right. I really do.”

  Now his smile was genuine. “From what Amy told me about what happened today, so do I.” His gaze moved over her face. “And it’s all thanks to you.”

  She waved her hand, dismissing her own part in what had occurred. “Thanks to Becca, you mean.”

  He lifted a big shoulder in a shrug. “Well, maybe Becca deserves a little of the credit, too.” He stood then and carried his empty can to the sink. She watched him move, thinking that her little kitchen, like most rooms, was too small for him.

  He set the can on the counter, then turned and leaned against the cabinets, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s good to talk about this. Especially now, when it’s beginning to look like things just might work out with Nellie after all.”

  “I know what you mean. Family’s important.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah, it is.”

  And then he fell silent. He was watching her again, standing there against her counter. His eyes were soft.

  Evie gazed back at him, feeling warm all over. She really did like just looking at him. He was so big and…solid.

  She remembered how good it had felt, that day down in the shop, when he’d scooped her up in his strong arms and held her against his chest. She’d felt safe then, safer than she’d ever felt in her life. She’d known with absolute certainty that anything could have happened, and he could have handled it. He was a man to count on. If she needed him, he would be there.

  Behind Erik, she could hear water dripping in the sink. The faucet was tricky if you didn’t turn it off firmly, it always dripped.

  It occurred to Evie, as she listened to her leaky faucet, that the seconds were continuing to tick by. And neither of them was talking. Maybe she ought to say something.

  Yes, she definitely should say something…

  But she didn’t, and neither did he. The moment was just too lovely to ruin with words. It felt so good, simply to look at him and have him look back at her.

  Her body, she realized, felt heavy, suddenly. It was a languorous heaviness. As if she’d fallen asleep in the sun on a summer afternoon. Even the dripping of the water in the sink had taken on a seductive quality. And she could feel each slow breath as the air filled her lungs, expanded her rib cage and made her breasts rise high and proud.

  But then Erik seemed to shake himself. He straightened from his relaxed posture against the counter. “I…should go.”

  “Yes,” she heard herself answering. “Of course. I understand.”

  She stood and saw him to the door.

  Erik stopped in at the shop on the day of Septemberfest. He was carrying a slightly lopsided chocolate cake on a plastic platter and several cookies on a paper plate.

  “I heard a rumor you baked these.”

  “Oh, really? From who?”

  “Linda Lou Beardsly. She’s the one behind the counter at the church bake sale booth. Was she straight with me? Did I get what I paid for?”

  Evie cast a rueful glance at the cake. “I don’t know if I should admit I made that. “

  He held it up and studied it. “What do you mean? This is a hell of a cake. I know. I’m a cake expert.”

  “Oh, are you?”

  “You bet.” He hefted the lopsided confection. “Nice and heavy, too.”

  If he’d been a little closer, she would have punched him on the arm. “Oh, you…”

  “Come on, Evie. Confess. You made this cake.”

  She faked a glare. “All right, all right. I did.”

  “Good.” He looked inordinately pleased with himself. “So come on over to the house tonight. About six. My mom will cook us dinner—and this fabulous cake will be our dessert.”

  Erik’s mother, Darla, was there in the kitchen when Evie arrived at Erik’s house. A large, sturdy woman with a lined face, Darla said she was glad to meet Erik’s new friend. She reached for a towel, then held out her hand. Evie took it. Darla’s grip was firm, her smile sincere.

  Right then, Becca and Jenny came bouncing in.

  “Evie, come with us,” Becca said. She grabbed one of Evie’s hands and Jenny grabbed the other and they towed her from the room.

  They took her upstairs, where she admired their bedrooms and was personally introduced to Becca’s ten stuffed animals and seven dolls.

  After she’d seen both of the girl’s rooms, they showed her Pete’s room, complete with a painting of some kind of space module circling the earth dominating one wall, a scale model of the USS Enterprise hanging from the ceiling, erector set pieces scattered everywhere and an unmade bed.

  Jenny remarked rather sadly, “Petey’s a slob.”

  “He’s a boy,” Becca said, as if that explained it all. She tugged on Evie’s hand again and led her to the next bedroom. “That’s our dad’s room. He has his own bathroom. The kids have to share.”

  Evie peeked in at the plain room with the nice bow window, the king-size bed and the two rather battered maple bureaus. Over the bed there was a painting of a secluded forest glen, with a pond in the center. A willow drooped into the pond, making ripples as if from a slight breeze.

  Jenny saw the direction of Evie’s gaze. “My dad painted that.”

  “Very nice,” Evie said inanely. Actually she thought the painting was much more than merely “nice.” There was great peace in it—and also a br
eath-held, expectant kind of feeling.

  Evie’s gaze dropped to the bed below the painting. And her cheeks were suddenly warming at the thought that this was the room where Erik slept.

  Wanting to take her mind away from thoughts it shouldn’t be pondering, she quickly pointed to the next door, which was shut. “Is that the guest room?”

  Becca’s eyes widened. “Oh, no. That’s Dad’s special room.”

  “She means his studio,” Jenny explained. “We’re not allowed in there. It’s Dad’s private space. He does his paintings in there.” Jenny’s reverent tone said it all. Evie longed to see the room. She felt that she could learn much about Erik, just by seeing the work he did in there.

  “Hey, everyone.” The man in question appeared at the top of the stairs. “Your grandmother could use a little help with the table.” He smiled just for Evie. “And I’d like to get a little time with Evie, too, you know.”

  “We’re coming right now,” Becca said and started pulling on Evie’s hand again.

  Evie tossed one last wistful glance at the closed door, then followed Becca to where Erik waited for them.

  Downstairs, the girls set the table in the dining room while Erik and Evie sat in the kitchen talking to Darla. Pete showed up just before they sat down to eat. He greeted Evie rather warily and said little during the meal.

  The dinner was plain and good. When dessert was served, everyone agreed that the cake was delicious.

  “You can’t even tell it was crooked when you’re eating it,” Becca declared.

  Pete ate his cake as quickly as he had devoured his meal, then asked to be excused to return to Marnie’s house next door.

  “Back by nine,” Erik called as he left.

  Pete waved in answer.

  After that, everyone pitched in on the dishes and then Erik, Evie and the girls played Go Fish and Old Maid. The evening passed quickly. Too soon, it was nine o’clock and Pete was trudging in the back door, on time but grudgingly so.

  Darla volunteered to put the kids to bed so that Erik could walk Evie home.