Authors: Melody Carlson
Hidden History (19 page)
Alice paused and looked at her sisters. They nodded their unspoken agreement that she should go on.
August 12, 1926. I went to the dance last night. It was held in the town square with oriental lanterns strung all around. The girls wore pretty dresses in pastel colors and the fellows were scrubbed clean with straw hats and bowties. My plan was to remain on the edge of this affair, a safe distance for an outcast. Oh, I do not really think of myself as an outcast, but I know that I do not fit in. People know that I
am one of those Howard kids from that rundown little farm on Farley Road. I suspect some even feel sorry for me. I suppose that might hurt as much as anything. So my plan was to remain as invisible as possible, to blend into the trunk of the tree that was supporting my tired back. I managed to do this for about an hour. During this time, I kept my eye on Adele, and I know she was watching me, too. So it came as a surprise when she accepted invitations to dance from a couple of our classmates. Most surprising was that she willingly danced with Leon Stevens, especially since we both agree that Leon is not the nicest person. The truth is that Leon is a bully. I speak from experience. More disheartening was that Adele did not dance with Leon once, but three times. I was so exasperated that I was preparing to leave when the bandleader announced that the next song would be a ladies’ choice. Out of curiosity, I stuck around, and the next thing I knew Adele was tapping me on the shoulder. Embarrassed, I admitted to her that I do not know how to dance. She said she would help me. I only stepped on her toes a couple of times, and she did not complain, although she did admit to being vexed at me for not
asking her to dance. “But I will forgive you if you can assure me that it is only because you are shy and not much of a dancer.” I told her that was exactly right and she absolved me of all offenses. Then I asked her why on earth she wanted to dance with someone like Leon. “I thought that might make you jealous,” she retorted. I did not tell her that it had worked, but I did manage to ask her to dance a few more times before the evening ended. I noticed some of the boys offering to walk various girls home, but this would take more nerve than I could summon. I hope Adele understood. As I walked home by myself, in the light of the half moon, I felt incredibly light-hearted and happy and unexplainably hopeful. At one point I paused and looked up at the star-studded sky and thought, maybe, just maybe I have been completely wrong. Maybe there is a God after all. So, standing there on Farley Road, I said something that resembled a prayer. I said, “God, if you are truly there, and truly real, please show yourself to me. I do not actually want to be an atheist. It just seemed my only recourse a few years ago when I was so disappointed by life in general.” That was about all I said, and I am not sure anyone would regard
that as an actual prayer. I am still not sure about it myself, but I figure if God is real, he ought to be willing to show himself to me. Time will tell.
“That is so wonderful,” said Jane. “I just love the way Father dealt with his faith journey in such a no-nonsense way.”
“It’s no wonder that God called him to be a pastor,” said Alice.
Later that evening, Alice decided to finish her letter to Mark. If her father could muster the courage to ask Adele to dance, not to mention asking God to reveal Himself, surely Alice could manage to write a simple letter. After throwing away several feeble attempts, Alice forced herself to finish one and actually seal it in the envelope. At the same time she felt as if she were sealing her fate.
She feared that her letter seemed stiff and formal, but she knew no other way to write it. She had tried to be honest as she explained to Mark that she was not sure why he wanted to see her again, but if it was important to him, she would be willing to meet. She knew that the message was not inviting, and she was not positive that she would mail it. She decided to pray about it.
“Dear Heavenly Father, this whole thing with Mark is confusing and disconcerting to me. My life has been peaceful
and fulfilling without him in it, and I see no reason to invite the possibility of frustration and even heartache now. I want to place this in Your hands. I ask that Your will be done. Amen.”
Content that her future was safe in God’s hands, Alice drifted off to sleep.
The next day, Alice had just put the letter to Mark in the hospital’s outgoing mail when she saw Pastor Kenneth waving to her as he left the pediatrics ward. “Alice,” he called with a smile. “How are you doing today?”
“I’m well, Pastor. Are you visiting someone?”
“Yes. Bobby Dawson.”
“I didn’t know Bobby was in here. What for?”
“He broke his collarbone playing touch football yesterday afternoon.”
“Poor Bobby. How’s he doing?”
“Not too badly, and his spirits picked up as I was leaving.” Alice frowned. “Why’s that? Surely he wasn’t happy to see you go?”
Pastor Kenneth laughed. “Not exactly. He was glad to see some new visitors coming—a group of giggling teenage girls bearing balloons and ice cream.”
Alice nodded. “That ought to make him feel better.”
“Or encourage him to play up the pity factor.”
“He might as well enjoy his convalescence.”
“Speaking of convalescing, I noticed the Humberts were not in church yesterday. How is Vera doing?”
“Not very well. In fact, I was thinking of giving you a call today. I’ve been visiting when I can and helping out, and my sisters and I have been taking food over, though not every night. Vera is having a pretty hard time, and I’m wondering if the church might be able to do—”
“Of course,” said Pastor Kenneth. “You don’t need to say another word. I feel bad that I didn’t think of offering help.”
“You’ve got so much going on. I could’ve called, but I kept thinking she’d be feeling well soon.”
“But she’s not.” He shook his head. “Have they discovered anything yet?”
“No. Vera is almost convinced that it’s cancer, but so far all the tests have been negative.”
“Poor Vera. She needs the support of her church family more than ever right now. I’ll call Ellen Moore. She’s heading up Helping Hands now. I’m sure she’ll have some ideas.”
Alice sighed. “Thank you.”
He patted her on the arm. “Never hesitate to ask for help, Alice. There are a lot of people in our church who aren’t so busy as you, and they’re just waiting to be needed.”
“Yes, I forget that. My father used to say that when we try to do everything ourselves, we rob others of the blessing of giving and helping.”
“Your father was a very wise man.”
Alice’s week felt a little less busy, knowing that Vera now had additional help. Ellen Moore helped out with food and cleaning on Tuesday, and Florence Simpson took the following day. Alice wondered how Vera felt about that, because she and Florence did not always get along well. Of course, very few people, other than Ethel, seemed to get along with Florence.
“I balked at getting this extra help at first,” admitted Vera during Alice’s visit on Friday afternoon. “But I can see that it’s taken a load off Fred.”
Alice set the freshly made pot of Vera’s favorite herbal tea on the kitchen table. “Are you sure you feel well enough to be up, Vera?”
“I try to move around as much as I can, and I’ve actually been feeling a bit better today.” She eased herself down into the chair with a tired sigh. “Did I tell you that Clara Horn was my helper today? She even brought her pig with her.”
Alice smiled. “How’s little Daisy doing?”
“Clara says she’s been as right as rain since your miracle doctor fixed her up. I’m thinking maybe I should have this Dr. Graves come take a look at me.”
Alice laughed. “He’s an animal doctor, Vera.”
“Maybe that’s what I need.”
“Well, I’m glad to see you’re getting your sense of humor back. Maybe you are on the mend after all.”
“I’ve been trying to take your advice,” said Vera. “I’ve been reading my Bible a lot and thanking God for the good things in my life. Did I tell you that Polly has a boyfriend?”
“No, is it serious?”
Vera nodded as she sipped her tea. “I think so. She called last night and said that if she ever gets married, she would like to have the reception at the inn.”
Alice shook her head. “Your little tomboy Polly talking about getting married, now isn’t that something.”
“I hope she’ll take her time about it.”
They chatted for about an hour, but Alice could see that Vera was getting tired. “I think you should go lie down, Vera. You don’t want to be all worn out when Fred gets home.”
Vera sighed. “It seems hard to believe that I’m actually ten years younger than you, Alice. I feel like I’m about a hundred and two these days.”
As usual, Alice prayed for Vera as she walked home. Once again she wondered what this mystery ailment could possibly be. She had already hunted through her own medical books, but like the doctors she came away without an answer. Still, there had to be one—even if God was the only One who knew it. “Dear Heavenly Father,” she fervently prayed as she neared the house. “Please, please,
show us what’s wrong with Vera and how to treat it. I know You have all the answers to all our questions, and I believe You can show us what is making Vera sick. Thank you. Amen.”
The phone began to ring as soon as Alice stepped into the house. She picked up the one in the hallway and was surprised to hear Mark Graves on the other end.
“I got your letter,” he told her, and then he laughed lightly. “Believe me, Alice, I can understand how you might feel a little skittish.”
“Skittish?”
she pondered his choice of words. It sounded like something someone would say about a horse, perhaps even a flighty young mare. But then Mark was a vet, and it was likely such animal descriptions came easily to him.
“Listen, I can understand your hesitation, Alice. To be honest, I thought you might just tell me to go take a leap.”
She had to laugh at this. “That seems a bit harsh, not to mention rude.”
“Well, I appreciate your graciousness toward me, Alice, as well as your willingness to get together. I hoped we could just talk, but I don’t want you to feel any pressure. I just see this as two old friends spending some time together. Does that sound okay to you?”
She felt relieved. “Yes, that sounds fine.”
“So, how about dinner tomorrow night?” he asked.
Suddenly her sense of relief vanished. “Oh, I don’t know about that—”
“Look, Alice, everyone has to eat.” His tone was persuasive. “And it’s no big deal to share a meal together. It’s not like this is a date or anything. Okay?”
She hesitated. “Okay.”
“I could pick you up around six.”
“That would be fine.”
They said good-bye and Alice hung up the phone and took in a deep breath. What had she gotten herself into?
“Who was that?” asked Jane as she popped her head around the corner from the office beneath the stairs, making Alice jump.
“I didn’t know anyone was here,” said Alice.
“Obviously,” said Jane. “I’m guessing that was Mark Graves.”
“How could you tell?” asked Alice, certain she had said nothing to give it away.
“The tone of your voice.” Jane offered Alice a chocolate. “I just made these today, a new recipe.”
Alice took a bite.
“Mmm
, good. How can you tell from the tone of my voice?”
“It’s just that you sounded so, so guarded. So what does Dr. Mark want?”
“Just to talk. We’re going to dinner tomorrow.”
Jane’s brows lifted. “Dinner?”
“It’s no big deal,” said Alice, repeating Mark’s words. “Everyone’s got to eat. It’s not an actual date.”
“Oh no.” Jane shook her head slowly, indicating that she did not believe a word that Alice was saying. “I’m
sure
it’s not an actual date.”
“Well, it’s not.” Suddenly Alice felt very unsure. “Is it?”
Jane wrapped her arms around Alice. “Hey, don’t worry, sweetie. It’ll be fun for you. Now what’ll we dress you up in?”
“We?
”
Jane grinned. “Hey, this is what sisters are for.”
O
n Saturday, no matter how much Alice protested, Jane refused to back down from her “offer” to help her select an outfit. “Come on, Alice,” urged Jane. “When was the last time you went out on a date anyway?”
“I told you this is
not
a date,” said Alice.
Louise frowned from her post by Alice’s doorway. “Mark Graves called you, invited you to dinner, plans to pick you up here tonight, right?”
Alice nodded.
“So, what about that is
not
a date?” asked Jane as she examined a brown pantsuit. “How old is this little number?”
Alice attempted a feeble smile. “Probably from the seventies.”
“Going for the retro look, are we?” Jane hung the suit back in the closet and shook her head. “We need to take you shopping.”
“But—”
“No but’s, Alice.” Jane looked at her watch. “We could even grab some lunch in town. Do you want to come,
Louise? We could probably invite Aunt Ethel over here to keep an eye on things for an hour or two.”
