Simple Gifts (22 page)

“I didn't know it was a practice you continued.”

I grinned. “I didn't. Wish I could, but I think my neighbors in Glen Ellyn would think I'm…” Not long ago I would have said
nuts
, but I'd decided I was going to start talking nicer to myself and about myself.

We sat silent for a minute before Vic spoke. “Ingrid all right?”

“Like always. She and Prue are still fighting over Eugene's foot. I can't imagine why either of them would want it, but they do.”
Stop dallying, Marlene! Blurt it out! Let him blast you for the lies—the years of wasted trust!

“Two stubborn women; might as well go along with their follies.”

“Too stubborn for words.” If only they would discuss the matter logically, their differences could be worked out…

Shut my mouth
. Why did I think that way but refuse to practice my own remedies? The expectancy on Vic's face said he was thinking the exact same thing. The moment passed. Vic was too much of a gentleman to point out the comparison.

He shifted. “They'll work out the foot ownership, and if they don't, it gives them something to occupy their time. If not for our differences, what would life be?”

“You're right.” Here it comes. Differences. Lies. Explosion. I opened my mouth to confess, but nothing came out. I couldn't bear to see the disgust on his face, the betrayal.

Silence.

I cleared my throat. “I'm working on a compromise acceptable to both Ingrid and Prue.” I told him about my plan, and he agreed it could work.

“You're brave.” He winked. “Don't be upset it they refuse to listen.”

I picked up a dry twig from the tabletop and proceeded to break it into little pieces. “Joe was over and brought his latest invention.”

“Ah, the Glass Robot? What'd you think?”

“Loud.”

I piled the broken pieces of twig on the table, concentrating on what I was doing. Anything to keep from looking him in the eye.

I glanced up and his eyes were kind, but there was remoteness in his expression, one I'd never seen before. All was not well between us. Why didn't he confront me? Why didn't I tell him the truth?
Coward! You don't want the final break—-the irreversible snap that can never be repaired
. I looked away. “Well, I'm finally coming to grips with my memories of Herman.”

“That's good. You could never see your father the way the rest of us did.”

I recognized the truth when I heard it. I'd wanted Herman to be like other people, not different. I'd been ashamed of the way he looked, the way he behaved, the comments sent our way.

“Not everyone liked Herman. You heard them at the meeting. Some of them were repulsed by him; others felt he was a nuisance.” And they hadn't hesitated to say so, not caring that Ingrid and I were sitting in the same room, having to endure their remarks.

“You have to expect negative people,” Vic said. “Not everyone has the maturity or ability to see beauty in someone like Herman. They tend to shrink away, afraid to touch or be touched.”

“There but for the grace of God, go I.”

“Most of us, when we look at another's misfortune, may sympathize. But a part of us will be thanking God it didn't happen to us.”

I wasn't like that, was I? I thought back to some of the patients I'd worked with…and cringed. Maybe I wasn't as far removed from that attitude as I liked to think.

“It's normal,” Vic offered. “None of us want to be different. We all want to be accepted, to fit in. Herman never did and he knew it.”

“Herman didn't choose his life.” No one chose who they were born to or what genes they carried. Parents were a turkey shoot.

“God doesn't promise us the ride will be smooth, but he does promise to go with us every mile of the way.”

For a moment I was caught up in silent thoughts. “It seems like he could prevent a lot of our problems, if he would.”

“It doesn't work like that, Marly. God can do everything, that's true, but if nothing bad happened in our lives, we might get the idea that we didn't need him.”

“So he lets bad things happen to show us we need him? I'm not sure I'm up to the test.”

“You are. He lets life happen, and sometimes what we think is a burden is really a blessing. Herman touched a lot of people in this town, in ways he couldn't have done if he had been normal.”

“I can accept that—I can even accept the differences in people and be glad of them, but it's been a long road getting here. It's been hard for me to see that each of us is a unique individual. I think if I were God, I'd have made everyone alike.”

“Right.” He grinned. “Could the world survive two Marlys?”

It couldn't.

He reached for my hand. “Think of how boring life would be if we were all carbon copies of one other.”

“We could be perfect.” I smiled when I said it, knowing that human nature being what it was, perfection wasn't possible.

“Perfect is highly overrated. God did a wonderful thing when he made us all different.”

“I feel so guilty.” I looked down at the table. “I didn't even try to accept Dad, not really. Something inside me cared more about what other people thought than about Herman's feelings, but I loved him, Vic. I'm just beginning to realize how much, and what I missed by not coming home more often.”

“We can't undo the past; all we can do is ask for forgiveness and try to do better.”

“It's surprising how each of us have different gifts. You have a gift with animals.”

“And you have a gift with people. Nursing is a thankless job. At least my animals give me a friendly nudge every now and then.”

Twenty-five years in the nursing field. Did I want to go back? Did I want the long shifts, the stress, eating poorly, and dealing with Sara's problems day after day…? “Herman had simple gifts.”

Vic agreed. “He was always happy, glad to see his friends, willing to help with anything they needed.”

“And he loved animals. He was good with them too. It's fitting that he built the animal shelter. His gift to the town.”

“He gave more than the shelter to the town. He gave the town his love. How many can say that?”

Sighing, my hands tightened on his. “He never seemed to mind that he was different, not openly. Maybe his difference didn't bother him the way it did me.”

“What's the old saying? What you don't know can't hurt you.”

“But in Herman's case it
did
hurt him, and by the very people who want to honor him now.”

“Well, people change, grow older, experience life. They let us down, walk away from us.”

There it was: the perfect opening for me to break down the wall, confess my sin and clear the air between us…but I hesitated, and the moment passed. The old Marlene—-the one who knew she'd lose him forever when the lie was voiced—shrank.

Sighing, Vic got up. “I have to go. Dad will wonder where I am.”

I searched his face, looking for anger, but seeing only a remote sadness. “Yeah, Ingrid has probably called neighbors to look for me. She'll be sure something has happened to me.”

The frown disappeared and he chuckled. “Your aunt is a piece of work—no disrespect intended.”

“None taken.” Ingrid was Ingrid; she never worried about how others would accept her behavior. She did whatever she liked, and if you didn't approve, you could get over it. If she and Millicent Spencer ever clashed, I wanted to be there to see it.

The chuckle turned to a friendly grin. “Good to see you, Marly. I'm glad Sara is doing better. I was concerned when I heard about the baby scare.”

“Thank you. I was too.”

He turned and walked away. Another opportunity, maybe my last, to make amends slipped away. Would I ever have enough nerve to talk to him about the truth? To make him understand why I would perpetrate this fraud on him—my best friend. I didn't know, but it was clear he didn't intend to make the first move.

“Vic!”

He turned around.

“Vic…” When I told him, it would be over. Forever.
God, grant me the strength to do this.

“Yes, Marly?”

“I…have a good day.”

Disappointment crossed his features. Had he expected a confession? I'd expected to offer one.
Father, I want to…I want to so badly! Inside I'm at war with evil and good. Please help me.

“Yeah. You too.” He walked on, and the moment passed—-and I wondered if God would grant me another.

I looked at the swings, but the urge to use them had waned. I was right the first time: you can't go back. Swinging had been a nice interlude, but I wasn't a child anymore, and it would take more than youthful pastimes to help me with problems looming on the horizon like thunderheads.

Sighing, I got up and walked back to my car.

My faith in miracles was restored around one when the plumber arrived at Aunt Beth's house. By midafternoon, a new fifty-gallon hot water heater sat in the closet, and every sink in the house had either stopped dripping or had a new faucet.

Overhead, a new roof sheltered the old house; brown ceiling stains were spackled and painted. So impressed was I by the sudden whirlwind of repairs all coming together at the same time, that I phoned the realtor and then invited Ingrid over for supper. To my surprise, she accepted. It would be the first time Ingrid had stepped foot in her sister's house since she and Eugene parted, but it was time for celebration.

Tracey Haskins of Four Star Realty showed up as Ingrid and I were sitting down to eat.

“I'm sorry. I've caught you at a bad time.”

“No, really, I'll show you the house. Let me check on Ingrid first.” I returned to the kitchen and ran a quick glance over the table, making sure my aunt had everything she needed.

“If I'd wanted to eat alone, I could have stayed home,” Ingrid stated.

I pushed her water glass closer. “This won't take long.”

Tracey and I stepped outside and she took a few steps down the walk and looked back. Tracey sighed. “I've always loved this house. It would be beautiful painted a soft gray with white trim and charcoal accents.”

I looked at the house, trying to catch her vision. Tall, two-story, with a wraparound porch, it had clean, elegant lines I'd never noticed before. It had always just been Aunt Beth's house, the place where I lived. For a moment, my heart ached at the thought of selling, and a deep longing swept over me.

I wanted to stay in Parnass. To live here, in this house.

The desire held me captive for one poignant moment before I regained my senses. I couldn't live here! I had a job, and Columbia was the closest hospital around. I'd been told by Beth's attorney that my inheritance would be sizable, but until properties were sold and the estate settled, I wouldn't know the full amount. It would be large, but how large? Large enough for me to retire, to quit my job? Or large enough to live comfortably but frugally? Enough to buy a yacht? Or enough to put the money in tax-free bonds for Sara's and the children's futures?

Besides, Sara would have something to say about where I lived. Or she would if she ever got over the sulks. My continuing absence would be driving her into a conniption fit. She still hadn't called, and I was starting to worry. I'd wanted to break her dependence on me, but it was altogether possible I'd broken more than I had intended.

I led the way into the house and Tracy stopped in her tracks, staring at the rocks in the living room. “Uh, those are rocks.”

“They are indeed. Beth collected them.”

Tracey shook her head. “Most people keep them outside.”

“Beth wasn't like most people.”

Tracy giggled. “Neither is Ingrid. How come
you're
so sensible?”

I didn't take offense. “Someone had to be. I got elected.”

She bent over and picked up a fair-sized stone. “You could build a wall.”

I stared at her. “Why would I do that?”

Color filled her cheeks. “Well, no, I don't suppose you'd want to do that, but if you did want to, you surely could.”

I sighed. “I'll show you the rest of the house.”

She whipped out her notebook. “Sorry, the rocks sort of threw me. They go with the house?”

“Absolutely, I'll even throw in additional ones if the buyer wants them.” I figured the offer was safe. Who in their right mind wanted a house full of rocks?

She shot another look around the cluttered room. “Right. A whole lot of rocks. Well, I'll advertise the house as adventurous! Fun!” Her eyes focused on the rocks. “Perfect for the nature lover!”

We wandered through the house, with me pointing out the good points—high ceilings, which would be cool in the summer; oak woodwork; and a wide front porch. I pointed out the new roof, new faucets, and the repainted ceilings. Back in the living room, she raised her eyebrows again at the rocks.