Samson and Sunset (15 page)

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Authors: Dorothy Annie Schritt

Tags: #romance love children family home husband wife mother father grandparents wealthy poverty cowboy drama ranch farm farmstead horses birth death change reunion faith religion god triumph tragedy

BOOK: Samson and Sunset
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  When he came back into the room, clean
and dressed nicely in his Christmas clothes, I noticed he locked
the bedroom door behind him. His hair was still wet, but he had
towel-dried it. He had even shaved with one of Daddy’s razors and
put on some of Daddy’s Old Spice aftershave and cologne. He crawled
into bed, remarking that it looked like Cookie must have been here,
as we had tea and rolls.

  “You can thank my mommy for that.”

  After consuming the tea and a roll or
two, I had no doubt what was next. Shay reached for me and
everything I’d planned to say went out the window.

  An intense two hours of lovemaking
ensued. Our lovemaking wasn’t silent. He always told me things
like, “You’re so soft. You’re so beautiful. You smell like an
angel. I love you so much. Am I hurting you, baby? Are you okay?
God, I love you, woman!”

  Afterward, while he held me in his
arms, he asked if that had made my back feel better. “…’cause you
know what? Your back feels great to me.”

  Always with the jokes.

  A few minutes and he was out like a
light. I lay there with my back aching and my stepped-on heart,
watching the snow fall through the window while he slept.

  ***

My mind wandered back to a long-ago
Christmas. I musthave been around ten, my sister, Martha, around
twelve. We wanted to buy Daddy a new jacket. He had never had a new
coat in his life, and the idea had struck us that year like a
lightning bolt; it had to be done.

  After months of saving, Mom got out
the Sears and Roebuck catalogue and we sat around the kitchen
table, searching the menswear section for the perfect coat. We
found a beautiful, belted, royal blue and black plaid jacket with a
zip-up front and a warm hood. It cost $12.56. We were short $1.04,
so Mom called her oldest sister, my Aunt Anne, and asked if she
could loan us $1.04. We said we’d pay it back within three months.
My aunt brought the money by while she was Christmas shopping, and
we ordered Daddy’s new jacket.

  On Christmas Eve, Martha and I ran
home from church, clutching our little brown bags of candy and
oranges, hardly able to contain our excitement to see if Santa had
come so that we could open our presents and give Daddy his. We
opened our gifts happily—they were usually small and homemade, but
we always got a new doll on Christmas, which made our day.

  Now it was our turn to give Daddy his
package. I remember how his eyes lit up at the pretty wrapping
paper when we handed it to him.

  “Well, what did I do to get such a big
present?” he said, as he opened the carefully wrapped box,
surrounded by three, wide-eyed females, all watching his every move
with huge smiles on their faces.

  I will never forget the look on his
face, the tears that rolled down his cheeks, as he drew the new
coat out of the bright green tissue paper. This was the year I
learned that it felt far better to give than to receive. I felt so
happy and heart-warmed watching him, it was unlike any other
feeling. And I knew right then that I wanted to always feel that
way, to give whenever I could and feel God’s love rushing through
me.

  Fast-forward a few weeks.

  In a small town like Hudson at that
time, there wasn’t much to do on a Saturday night. Most townspeople
would go downtown, but that was just a few blocks lined with
stores.

  A few weeks after Christmas, my
parents took Martha and me downtown on a Saturday night to walk
around and window-shop. (I loved looking in the storefronts,
placing this object with that object, creating a room in my mind’s
eye. I guess that’s where my interest in design began.) It was a
cold night and the snow was coming down, light and fluffy like
cotton falling off an old cottonwood tree.

  On our way home we walked by an old
man standing with his hands above a round trash barrel, where a
small fire was burning. He must have been in his late sixties,
shivering in just a light jersey sweater, with snow and ice
crystals collecting in his beard.

  Daddy stopped and looked at him. Then
he walked over, took off his new coat and put it on the old man.
Zipping and belting it up, he pulled the hood over the old man’s
head and said, “Merry Christmas.”

  The old man gathered the hood around
his face and thanked him several times with a rusty smile.

  As we walked away I didn’t quite know
what to feel. I wanted Daddy to have that new jacket, but as we
walked in the snow toward home, Daddy scooped up Martha and me in
each arm and said, “That poor soul needed the jacket more than I
did. He doesn’t have the love you girls give me, that love is
enough to keep me warm.”

  Just one of the many humbling lessons
I learned from my parents.

  ***

My first Christmas day as Mrs. Shannon
Westover was certainly an experience. The entire clan came
together—Grandpa Shannon, Grandma Lila, Debbie and Becky—all decked
to the nines for cocktails and early afternoon turkey dinner, with
all the trimmings. After eating we went for coffee in the formal
living room. I had my usual tea. Cookie was there, doing her thing
with two ladies to help her. (I had three gifts for Cookie, one
from Shay, one from Kelly and a special one just from me.)

  We then moved to the den for gift
opening. Everyone gave each and every person in the family a gift,
and boy this was Kelly’s year. She cleaned up. She not only got
toys, but beautiful clothes. Sterling bought her a fantastic
rocking horse, converted from a real merry-go-round model; it was
beautiful. To my amazement, Kelly had stolen Sterling’s heart. They
played games like hide and seek; she loved sitting on his lap and
going places with him. With the start that Sterling and I had, go
figure. But that Kelly could steal anyone’s heart.

  Everyone got everything they wanted
except me. I had fallen in love with this beautiful cocktail ring
and a stylish Seiko watch with a blue face. I had shown them both
to Shay, saying I hoped Santa was watching.
Hint, hint.
I
got just about everything else: a Waterford crystal wine decanter
and six matching stemmed glasses, silk PJs, perfumes, a jacket, new
western boots, great books, a new purse—I must admit, I cleaned up
right along with Kelly!

  By now it was about 7 p.m. and
everyone decided to put on their lounge pajamas and meet in the den
for drinks. With Kelly wiped out I put her to bed and slipped into
my new silk PJs, while the guys got comfortable in their sweat
suits. After putting Kelly to sleep I walked into the suite where
Shay was sitting on one of the sage-green couches. He patted the
place next to him for me to sit down.

  “Gee, you’re quiet, princess,” he said
as I sat there, looking down.

  I could no longer hold in my
disappointment at not getting my only two special requests. I
buried my head in Shay’s chest and started crying softly.

  “Princess, what’s the matter, why are
you crying?” I sat up and looked at him, sniffling. “Oh,” he said,
“you’re crying because you didn’t get what you wanted. I got you
everything a girl could want, and here you are crying.”

  The crying went to little gasps, like
a baby does after sobbing real hard, pathetic little sobs. I truly
was crying.

  Shay stood up, turned, and gently took
both of my hands and pulled me up to my feet. Then he scooped me up
off the floor and kissed me.

  “Oh, princess, you are so spoiled,
sobbing like that and making me all sad.” He carried me over to the
tree and said, “Look into those branches, right there,
princess.”

  I looked through the branches, and
draped over one bough was the Seiko watch, next to it, glittering
on a twig, was the ring.

  “See, you big baby? Daddy didn’t
forget. But you’re so spoiled I had to give them to you now. I
wanted to give them to you at midnight, and ya know, you sort of
ruined that, ya big baby.” He put me down on the floor and reached
into the tree and put the watch on my wrist, slid the ring on my
finger. “Well, you big baby, are you happy?”

  He was smiling as he said it, and I
threw my arms around his neck. We had a long kiss. “Ya know,
princess,” he said as our lips parted, “I thought about not giving
them to you after the way you acted, so you had better enjoy them.”
Then we headed down to enjoy cocktails with the rest of the
family.

  ***

The rest of the evening was wonderful for me;
I felt loved. I kept looking at my hand and watching my ring
glitter; checking what time it was, just to look at that new watch.
Throughout the evening I heard talk between Sterling and Shay about
trucks and cattle, something about four days, and leaving before
noon. I really didn’t know what they were talking about, and I
didn’t give it much thought until, after a hot lovemaking session
that night, Shay told me he was leaving on the 27
th
for
a four day cattle auction in Kansas.

  “But what about going with Karen and
Kevin to ring in the New Year at the club?” I said.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll be back
for that.”

  Why didn’t you tell me when you found
out you were going?”

  “Because I know you, and you wouldn’t
have enjoyed Christmas if I’d told you.”

  He was right about that.

  “Why do you need your car if they’re
taking their trucks?”

  “Because I like my independence,
princess. Now go to sleep, my spoiled little brat.” He kissed me
good night and it was lights out.

  The Arrival

  The next day I helped Shay pack his
suitcase. I noticed he was packing nice jeans, shirts and
sweaters.

  “Why do you need all these good
clothes if you’re just going to a cattle auction, Shay?”

  “Don’t worry your pretty little head
about what I’m wearing, princess. I’ve been going to these cattle
auctions for years without your input, so I think I know what I
want to pack.”

  “Are you planning to go out to
bars?”

  “Of course. All the guys get together
and go for supper and drinks.”

  I didn’t want to know anymore. I had
no doubt women would be involved.

  “Well, while you’re gone,” I said, “I
think I’m going to go stay at my parents’.”

  “Oh no you’re not! You’re not leaving
this property while I’m gone. There is nothing you need or have to
buy; you’re way too pregnant to be driving. So, missy, just give me
your car keys.” He put out his hand. “Now.”

  I went and got them and handed him my
set.

  “And don’t even think of having your
dad come and get you and Kelly,” he added. “If I find out you left
while I’m gone, well, you’ll be dealing with me when I get home,
and you won’t like that, princess. Now is everything settled?”

  I nodded. Of course inside I was
thinking: I’m not a child. Who does he think he is, ordering me
around like that? But after the checkerboard incident at the
Westover Bar, I thought maybe I should just cut my losses and be
good. Plus, I reasoned, I was eight months pregnant. Maybe he was
just being protective.

  ***

Of course Shay woke me up real early the next
morning; there was no way he was leaving without ravaging my body
for a couple of hours, but that was fine with me. I loved making
love with Shay. He knew his way around the bedroom, and my body. He
was never selfish in the lovemaking department. No matter how long
it took me, Shay absolutely wouldn’t climax without me, or until I
had. Where he got the stamina, I can only imagine. Seems God had
blessed the man.

  ***

Well, Shay was gone and I was grounded—hell
of a deal. I spent most of my time with Cookie, who was baking all
kinds of goodies for a church bake sale. Oh, we ate our share of
cookies, cake, fresh-baked bread, brownies, fudge, and at least six
different kinds of pie. We were in heaven. Cookie did most of the
work, but the two of us just giggled and giggled. She told me old
family stories, while we drank cup after cup of tea to the smell of
rising bread or baking pie. Cookie let Kelly lick the frosting off
the spoons and play the part of little helper.

  Well, that took up the first two days
that Shay was gone. On the third day I decided I’d just clean our
suite. Kelly got up about 7 a.m. and crawled into bed with me. We
sang some nursery rhymes in bed for a while, and then I called
downstairs to Cookie and asked if she might look after Kelly while
I took a long soak in the tub; my back was still killing me. Well,
that suited Cookie just fine.

  I must have soaked at least forty-five
minutes. The warm water felt great. When I got out and started
drying off, I looked down at the wet floor and thought: Wow, I
really spilled a lot of water. Better be careful not to slip. Well,
what the heck? I kept drying the water as it ran down my legs, but
it just kept coming. Suddenly I realized what was happening: my
water had broken.

  I was determined to remain calm. I
prided myself on my ability to handle physical pain, so I dressed
and placed a pad between my legs to catch the water. (I must have
changed it about four times in a matter of minutes, but it was
starting to slow down.) Okay, I thought, I think I have it under
control. I wanted to leave the room nice, so I stripped the sheets
off of our bed, got Kelly’s sheets and went to the kitchen. I
gathered Kelly up and headed for the basement to do laundry.

  I washed two loads of clothes, made
the beds, dusted, vacuumed the bedrooms, and ran the polish mop
over the hardwood floors. While I was polishing the bathroom
fixtures, I heard a knock at our door. I opened it, and there was
Cookie standing with a grin on her face and a tray in her
hands.

  “Kathrine,” she said, “I thought maybe
us three girls could have lunch together today to break up the
boredom for you. I know how much you miss Shay.”

  “How sweet!” I said and took the
tray.

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