Dorothy Garlock (32 page)

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Authors: More Than Memory

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock
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“This happened late last night. Car lights were seen out on the ice, then they disappeared. This morning the Lake Patrol found where the car had gone in. We had posted signs warning that the lake wasn’t safe to drive on.”
“How did you know it was . . . him?”
“Divers. They brought him and Kathy up just a little while ago.”
“I . . . just don’t know what to say.” Linda was trembling almost uncontrollably. “What do . . . I do?”
“We took him to the Wilcox Funeral Home. If you want him to go someplace else, we’ll move him.”
“No . . . that’s all right.”
“Do you want to go back into town with me? You’ll have to make arrangements, and the neighbors will be coming to the house.”
“I guess I should. What’ll I tell Eric?”
“I can’t tell you that, Linda. But you might
consider telling him the truth. He’ll have to know sooner or later. Maybe he could spend the night here with Mrs. Hanson.”
Eric was out of the tub and into his pajamas when Linda went back to the bathroom.
“Come upstairs with me, honey. I’m going to go back to the house.” She looked at Nelda with glassy eyes. “Chief Larsen will explain.”
The reality of what his mother told him hadn’t yet penetrated Eric’s mind when Linda prepared to leave with Chief Larsen. She had packed her clothes and most of Eric’s in the two laundry baskets and the chief had taken them to the car. She knelt to hug her son.
“Nelda will bring you home tomorrow. I love you.”
“Don’t go.” Eric suddenly began to cry. “Don’t go, Mama. He’ll hurt you.”
“He isn’t there, honey.”
“Where is he?”
“Oh, Lord, how can I explain?” Linda’s tear-filled eyes met Nelda’s.
“Eric, your mom’s got to go. You and I will talk about it. Okay?” Nelda sat down in a kitchen chair and pulled the boy up onto her lap. “I’ll bring him to you tomorrow. It’s going to take a while for us to pack up all his presents. Isn’t that right, Eric?”
Nelda bolted the door after Linda and the chief left, then she and Eric went to sit in the big chair in the living room lighted only by the Christmas tree lights and the glowing plastic Santa Claus. She told him about her little girl, Becky, who would live in
her heart forever and about her grandparents, who had lived in this house all their married lives, but now were together in another place. She carefully avoided using the word “heaven.”
“Daddy is in this other place?” Eric asked.
“Yes, he’s in that other place. Just you and your mom will be a family now.”
“I want you to be in our family.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. I can’t be in your family, but I want to be your friend forever and ever.”
• • •
In the morning Nelda was awakened by the ringing of the telephone. She pulled on her robe and hurried downstairs to answer it.
“Nelda, this is Lute.”
“You woke me up. What do you want?” she asked bluntly.
“Linda said you’d be bringing Eric into town this morning.”
“You do get around, don’t you?”
“I was there when they brought Kurt up. Later, I went to the house to see Linda.”
“Good of you.”
“It’s been snowing, still is, and the roads haven’t been plowed. The plows on the country roads won’t start until it stops snowing. I’ll come and take you and Eric into town.”
“I . . . don’t think so.”
“Are you so stubborn that you’d put a child’s life in danger?”
“I don’t want to talk to you. I’ve not had my coffee. Good-bye.”
Nelda hung up the phone and went to the window to look out. A small hump of snow had drifted across the lane, but it didn’t look very deep. After putting a tea bag in the pot and the kettle on to boil, she called Linda.
“Mornin’, Linda. How are you doin’?”
“All right. How is Eric?”
“He’s still sleeping. He’s a very intelligent little boy. I envy you having him.”
“Did he say anything about . . . ?”
“His dad. Not really. He’s taking this very well, considering his age. I explained to him that his dad was in another place and wouldn’t be coming back.”
“I don’t want him to remember Kurt as angry and . . . mean.”
“As time goes by, the good times will become exaggerated in his mind and the bad times will fade.”
Oh, Lord. What am I saying? The bad memories of my father will never fade
.
“Nelda, everyone has been so wonderful. Two of my neighbors spent the night, and another one is here taking in the food that’s being brought. But . . . I miss Eric.”
“As soon as I get him up and feed him breakfast, we’ll come in. I packed up his toys last night after he went to bed.”
“How are the roads?”
“I haven’t been out, but they don’t look too bad from here.”
“Nelda, don’t be mad . . . but Lute was here, and I told him that Eric was with you.”
“What else could you say?”
“He went over to Britt and brought Kathy’s mother to stay with her little girls.”
“That’s our Lute. Super Lute to the rescue. This town couldn’t survive without him.”
After a small silence, Linda said, “I’m just numb. I can’t believe this has happened.”
“Is there anything I can do other than bring Eric in?”
“You’ve done so much already. Nelda . . . do you think this would have happened if I hadn’t . . . left him?”
“You’ll never know the answer to that. Look at it this way. It could have been you and Eric in the car with him.”
“I’ve thought of that. I know now that he’d been seeing Kathy off and on for quite a while. Poor Kathy. She was on the road to destruction when she was in high school.”
While drinking her tea, memories of her own father filtered into Nelda’s mind. In not one of them was she sitting on his lap, or having him read her a story, or winning his praise for making the honor roll in the many schools she had attended.
She sighed and went to refill her cup. She was no longer able to drink coffee. That was almost a sure sign she was pregnant. Even the smell of it on the mornings she had made it for Linda was nauseating. She checked the calendar. Two months and ten days since her last flow. She must see an obstetrician soon.
• • •
It was still snowing when Nelda set the box of toys and the sack containing Eric’s clothes by the door. It didn’t appear that the drift over the lane was any larger than when she looked at it an hour ago. She put on her boots and heavy coat to go to the garage and get the car.
“Wait here, Eric, while I bring the car up to the back door. Put on your mittens, honey.”
Kelly had been whining to go out for several minutes, and the minute Nelda opened the door she knew why. He was out and bounding over the snow . . . to Lute’s truck.
When did he sneak in?
Anger boiled up in Nelda.
Choosing to ignore him and her traitor dog, she trudged through the snow toward the garage.
Oh, Lord! There’s a foot of new snow on top of the old. I may not be able to get the car out of the yard, and he’ll sit there with an I-told-you-so look on his face
.
This thought had just passed through Nelda’s mind when her feet went out from under her and she fell flat on her back in the soft snow. She rolled over on her knees; and as she struggled to get to her feet, she slipped down again.
From behind her, hands grasped her beneath her arms and lifted her easily to her feet.
“Get away from me.” She tried to jerk her arm from Lute’s grasp. Humiliation choked her throat.
“Use your head. You can’t make it to town in that car. It’s too light. You’d not reach the road.”
“And that tickles you to death, doesn’t it? My being unable to cope just proves your point.”
“Stop being childish.” He looked so big in his heavy parka. His face was red from the cold; the blue eyes fastened to her face were just as frigid. “I thought you had more sense than to put yourself and the boy in danger.”
“You never did think I had much sense, did you?”
“I don’t know what’s got into you lately, but I don’t like it.”
“That’s too bad. I couldn’t care less what you like or don’t like. I just want you out of my life, out of my sight.”
His brows drew together in a frown. “What’s changed you?”
Nelda rolled her eyes. “You are so damn dumb it’s pitiful. Now get out of my way.”
“You’re not taking that car out and that’s that.”
“All right. You take him. You’re the all-knowing, all-seeing, always right Lute Hanson, the backbone of this miserable community.”
She shook loose from his hands and plowed through the snow back to the house. The pulse in her throat throbbed, and suddenly it was hard to breathe. Stomping her feet on the porch to rid them of snow, she opened the door to see Eric waiting patiently beside his box of toys.
“Eric, honey,” she said, kneeling down to tie the hood on his coat, “Mr. Hanson is going to take you to your mother.” She jerked her head toward Lute, who was standing in the doorway behind her. “My car won’t make it through the snow.”
“I’ll carry you out to the truck, Eric.” Lute picked the boy up and headed for the car. “Come on, Nelda,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ll come back for these and put Kelly in the house.”
Nelda didn’t answer. She feared that if she spoke, she would cry. As soon as Lute left the porch, she hurriedly carried the clothes sack and the toy box to the back porch, went back into the kitchen, and closed the door. When she heard Lute return, she opened it again.
“Thank you for taking Eric. Get in here, Kelly,” she said to the dog who had followed him.
“Aren’t you coming?” He tilted his head and looked at her quizzically.
“No. I’ll call Linda.”
“Nelda—”
She closed the door.
Get away before I scream!
Standing at the window, Nelda watched the truck plowing through the snowdrifts on the lane, then went to the couch, sank down and let her misery wash over her. Pulling the afghan over her, she gave way to her tears. She hated herself for crying so much, but she couldn’t help it.
Why was it that she could hardly bear to look at Lute anymore? Was the love she had for him turning to hate? She didn’t want to be a bitter old woman. He had made what she had thought so sweet and wonderful no more than the mating of a man who needed relief and a woman willing to give it. It had no more meaning for him than that.
His bitter words, after the act that had planted
his seed in her womb, came floating back into her mind.
I must have been out of my mind. You don’t fit into my lifestyle
.
She had felt his accusing eyes all the way down to her toes.
What do you expect when you put a stallion in the stall with a mare in heat?
That he would say such a thing was like a thorn in her heart.
Watch out for Smithfield. He’ll sleep with you, but he won’t marry you
.
Nelda began to feel sick to her stomach and hurried to the bathroom. While she was throwing up the Toasties and milk she’d had for breakfast, the telephone rang. She let it ring, and her mind recorded eight rings before it stopped. She was bathing her face with a wet cloth when it rang again.
“Nelda, I was worried,” Linda said when she picked up the phone. “Lute was here with Eric. He said snow is drifting on the roads.”
“That’s the reason I let him take Eric. He was getting homesick for you.”
“I wish you had come in.”
“It’s better that I didn’t in this weather. Was it you who called a few minutes ago, Linda? I was in the bathroom. How are you doing?”
“All right. We’ll have the service day after tomorrow. I dread it.”
“You’ll do fine.”
“Are you all right? You don’t sound like yourself.”
“I might be getting a little sore throat.”
“There’s so much food here. I don’t know what to do with it. Kurt’s mother is here. She never liked me much, but she’s being nice.”
“She should be. You’re a nice person.”
“So are you. I’ll talk to you later.”
Nelda busied herself around the house for the rest of the afternoon, packing away the Christmas decorations. There didn’t seem to be a need for them anymore. She washed the sheets her guests had used, dried them in the dryer, and put them back on the bed.
She couldn’t get interested in her prints, so she took out yarn and the pattern book she had bought in Minneapolis and began working on a pair of baby booties. Soon she could see the booty take shape. So small. Nelda caught her lower lip between her teeth to keep from bursting into tears.

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