Winter Is Not Forever (3 page)

The Social

T
HAT NEXT NIGHT
I
HURRIED
through my chores and ran for my bedroom to bathe and change. After adjusting my tie and slicking down my hair, I picked up my jacket and started down the stairs, avoiding the step with the worst creak.

“Big night tonight, Boy?”

The question came from Grandpa. He and Uncle Charlie were sitting at the kitchen table going over some farm bills together.

I grinned. I guess the night was no bigger than any other social night, but it still was pretty special to me. I nodded.

“Nat says the Youth Group is really growin’,” continued Grandpa.

I nodded again, then added, “ ’Bout twenty of us now.” “That’s good,” said Grandpa. “Any of the new ones comin’ to church too?”

“Yeah, three of ’em are.”

“Good!” said Grandpa again.

Uncle Charlie took a gulp of coffee and let the legs of his chair hit the worn kitchen linoleum with a dull thud. He looked me over carefully, from the crease in my best pants to the straight part of my hair. Then he nodded, as though I passed inspection.

“Enjoy youth, Joshua,” Grandpa said. “The cares of adulthood will be upon ya soon enough.”

I couldn’t help but smile. Grandpa knew little about
youth.
If he thought that I wouldn’t have any worries or concerns until I stepped out into the adult world, he was all wrong. Or he had forgotten. He had no idea about the things I had been grappling with lately. But I let it pass as though the only thought in my mind was a night of games and singing, followed by some of Lou’s punch and cake. But at Grandpa’s words I could feel my mood change somewhat. I wasn’t in quite the same hurry that I had been a few minutes before.

Uncle Charlie’s sharp eyes were on me again. He was searching for something, I knew. I mustered a grin and moved out of his range. I didn’t want to be answering any questions. Not that Uncle Charlie would ask—not outright, anyway—but I felt the probing and had always squirmed some under it.

“I shouldn’t be too late,” I said as a parting remark of some kind. They knew I’d come straight home as soon as the social was over, and that it would be well chaperoned by Uncle Nat and Aunt Lou.

“Take yer time. Have fun,” Grandpa responded.

The thought of Aunt Lou filled me with a bit of concern. Her baby was due in a couple of weeks, and after what had happened with her first baby I was uneasy about her. Over and over she assured me that there was no need to worry. She had lost little Amanda because she had had the measles during the pregnancy. Aunt Lou had been the picture of health all through this one. Doc had told her over and over that the baby seemed healthy and energetic. He was predicting a strong baby boy, but Aunt Lou still had her heart set on another daughter, and I guess I secretly hoped for a girl, too.

In the barn I was greeted by Chester, the beautiful bay that Grandpa and Uncle Charlie had surprised me with on my last birthday. I still couldn’t believe that such a horse was really mine. I patted his shining round rump and reached for the saddle. He nickered at me and rubbed his nose against my chest looking for a treat from my pocket.

“Cut that out,” I scolded him. “You’ll mess my Sunday clothes!” But he didn’t care about that; he went right on sniffing and blowing. I moved so he couldn’t reach me and smoothed the blanket for the saddle.

I walked Chester out of the barn, closed the door securely, and mounted. Chester was eager to be on the road, even if I had forgotten to bring him his sugar lump or bit of apple. I had to rein him in to keep him from leaving the farmyard on a dead run. Grandpa didn’t take too kindly to running animals, but it sure was tempting when I was up on Chester. He loved to run, and his strong legs and smooth body fairly trembled with excitement whenever he was turned toward the road.

It was a warm spring night. The sun was still lighting my way, but I knew that by the time I returned home it would be dark. Chester could find his way back to his stall in total darkness if need be, but it would be nicer traveling by moonlight. Only a few carelessly drifting clouds crossed the sky; the moon should give some light later on.

My thoughts turned back to the social, and I wondered if there would be any new young people there. Wouldn’t it be something if Camellia decided to come!
Maybe if more of the girls her age
… I thought. But there were several girls Camellia’s age who attended, and that had never influenced her before. Nothing, in fact, seemed to influence Camellia in favor of coming to church.

As I began going over the list of who might be in attendance, my eagerness to get there increased. Chester must have sensed my feelings, for before I knew it we were racing down the dusty road at a reckless pace. I reined Chester in, and he snorted in disgust. He tossed his head and pranced along the roadway, fighting against the bit while I busied myself trying to brush the dust from my dress clothes.

In spite of my intentions to be there early, young people were already milling about when I entered the churchyard. I tied Chester securely and called out hellos as I hurried to the parsonage to see if I could help Aunt Lou with any last-minute preparations.

“Josh!” she called out excitedly. “Good to see you! How are things at the farm?”

Aunt Lou always greeted me as though we hadn’t seen one another for months, when the fact was that I had left town to stay at the farm only the day before.

“Fine,” I responded. “Just fine. How are you?”

Aunt Lou looked down at her expanding front. She placed a hand tenderly on the growing baby and smiled at me.

“We are both just fine, aren’t we, honey?” she said to her unborn child.

I smiled. Aunt Lou talked to her baby all the time. I was used to it by now. And she did look fine—her eyes shone and her cheeks glowed.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked.

“Everything is already done. Nat is over at the church and we carried all of the refreshments over earlier.”

“I’m sorry I was so late—” I began, but Aunt Lou stopped me.

“You’re not late. Everyone else is just early. Impatient to get started, I guess. My, how this group has grown! I hardly know how much food to fix anymore.”

I could tell by the smile on Aunt Lou’s face that she was pleased to have such a problem.

We walked the short distance across the churchyard together. Other young people were arriving, calling excitedly back and forth.

I was lounging on the outside steps talking to some of the fellas when a rig rounded the corner and headed our way. At first I thought it must be someone new, and then I recognized Willie. Willie never drove; he always rode horseback, same as me. It
was
Willie, all right—and he wasn’t alone, either.

For a moment none of us spoke. We just stood there gawking as Willie climbed down and tied the horse, and then reached a hand up to help a girl step down. She was wearing a full-skirted pink dress and she had her hair piled up on her head with little curls spilling down here and there. She looked familiar, yet I couldn’t place her. Willie had tied his horse some distance away from the steps where we waited. We all stood there, straining to figure out who Willie was with.

“By jingo!” hissed Tom Newton, “it’s Mary Turley—an’ all dolled up, too.”

It can’t be,
I thought.
Surely he wasn’t serious!
But, sure enough, there was ol’ Willie leading Mary Turley up the walkway to the church.

I wanted to laugh, to howl at Willie. My first impulse was to slap him on the back and tease him some, but I didn’t. I stood there quietly and watched.

Mary had certainly changed! And so had Willie—he was so spiffed up and shining I scarcely knew him. And he seemed so gentlemanly and grown-up too. All of us were put to silence by it all, and I bet other fellas besides me were wondering why we hadn’t thought of inviting Mary ourselves.

Mary smiled shyly at us as she brushed by, and Willie gave me just the slightest wink. I was sure no one else had seen it, but I caught it, just as I caught that twinkle in his eye.

Avery gave me a hard jab in the ribs that made me gasp for air, and then we all shuffled and moved on the steps and made an about-face as we followed Willie and Mary into the church.

We found some places to sit. As usual, the girls sorta lined up in the seats on the south side of the building and the fellas took the seats on the north. All except Willie, that is. He seated Mary alongside Martha Ingrim, but instead of coming over to the boys, he sat down right beside her!

Uncle Nat took charge of the meeting, calling it to order by welcoming everyone and having first-timers introduced. There was another new girl from town too, but she had come with Thelma and Virginia Brown, so none of us paid much attention.

Then Willie introduced Mary. He spoke clearly and without embarrassment. I couldn’t help but marvel at the way he handled it.

“This is Mary Turley,” he said. “Mary lives out our way. We—Josh and I, and several others here—went to school with Mary for a number of years.”

As we played some games, there was some mixing up of the seating, and Willie and Mary got separated. But Mary seemed to be having a good time. I was glad to see that she felt at home among us.

I had always thought of Mary as a plain girl, and maybe she really was, but tonight she was pretty in her own way. She had a smile that drew smiles in return, and her eyes were deep and intense. Her manner kept my eyes wandering back to her. She seemed so grown-up and self-assured compared to most of the girls I knew.

And then I remembered why I hadn’t seen much of Mary for the last several years. Her ma had been sick, and Mary had needed to take over the running of the household and the cooking of the meals. She hadn’t been able to go on to school in town like she had wanted to. I hadn’t given it much thought when I heard about it. But now, looking at Mary, I realized she had likely done more growing up than the rest of us who hadn’t borne similar responsibilities.

Not at all somber or morose, she laughed and enjoyed the games as much as anyone at the social, but she did carry the air of one who had learned a good measure of self-assurance.

After the games were over, Uncle Nat brought out his guitar and we gathered in a circle and sang every hymn we knew by heart. Mary didn’t seem to know many of the words, but she listened in appreciation and once or twice I noticed her small foot tapping in time with the music. Though I wasn’t sitting close enough to her to be sure, I had the feeling that she was humming right along.

When Aunt Lou served refreshments, Mary volunteered her help. I was busy pouring the punch, so we exchanged a few pleasantries. I asked about her ma, feeling apologetic that I hadn’t taken more of an interest sooner. Mary smiled when she told me that her ma was much better—even able to be back in her own kitchen again.

I thought of Mrs. Turley and that big kitchen. I well remembered the day that Willie, Avery, and I stopped by on the way back from our hike along the creek. We were half-starved, and Mrs. Turley’s well-stocked kitchen had about saved our lives. I remembered Mary too, a rather gangly, freckle-faced girl at the time. I never would have dreamed that she would become the well-poised young lady that I saw before me now.

“I’m glad about your ma,” I assured her.

“Me, too,” said Mary. “It was hard to see her so sick.”

There was no mention about the hard years that she had put in being housekeeper and nursemaid. She just seemed to have a sincere appreciation that her ma was feeling better.

“Maybe you can come to our next social,” I dared venture.

“I’d love to,” responded Mary and I could tell by her shining eyes that she really meant it. I wanted Mary to be a part of our Youth Group. I wanted her to feel welcome.Yet she really wasn’t a believer, and I couldn’t help but question Willie’s actions. Here he was courting a girl who was not a Christian, and I—I had to give up my relationship with Camellia for that very reason. It didn’t seem fair somehow, and yet I had no doubts about Willie and his commitment to his faith. Still—was Willie taking chances going out with a non-Christian girl? My line of reasoning directed my thoughts to Camellia and they lingered there, remembering her sparkling eyes, her long, burnished tresses. She was the prettiest girl I had ever seen.
If only—
but my thoughts were interrupted by Aunt Lou’s call for me to refill the punch glasses.

C
HAPTER
3