Marriage Seasons 03 - Falling for You Again (6 page)

Was that how she would end her life? Drooping her head until finally she turned into a pile of mush? Esther could vaguely remember when budding mums had filled her heart with bubbles of joy. The first cold autumn breeze made her laugh out loud in relief at the end of another long, hot summer. She had savored the changing leaves, the smell of chimney smoke, the promise of snow.

Now all she could think about was steering her car past the birdhouse and the tree trunks as its hood flopped up and down. She remembered the look on Cody’s face when she pushed her way out of the steaming car, its horn blowing so loud she couldn’t hear herself think. She recalled the hospital, people in wheelchairs, the odor of antiseptic.

“Oh, Charlie,” she said, leaning into him. “When my car flew off the back of the carport, I feel like I landed in another world. Suddenly life seems so serious to me. No, that’s not right. Death seems serious. Life seems trivial. I can’t make myself
care
about anything. Why have I spent time and money getting my hair done every Friday? Why did I think a Labor Day barbecue was important? Why have the colors of my outfits mattered so much to me, Charlie?”

“Because those things are all part of who you are. You like sunflowers. Purple is your favorite color. You’re talented at organizing parties and picnics. You get huffy if I dare presume to mismatch your shirt and your slacks because you take pride in your appearance. And I’m glad you do.”

For the first time since the accident, Esther felt a smile tickle her lips. “I guess I do still care about that, after all.”

“And we’re both getting pretty tired of me burning the beans and leaving lumps in the mashed potatoes. You still care about eating a good meal, don’t you?”

“I suppose so.”

“It’s all just life, honey.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders and helped her climb the steps onto the porch. “Barbecues, dogs, good food, and sunflowers are part of life, and that means they matter. God wants us to serve Him, but we’re to take pleasure in our world too. Even the hard parts—Ellie in trouble, Charles’s wife having miscarriages, your accident—those things are part of life too. Now, let’s get back to enjoying it together; what do you say?”

Esther watched Boofer race ahead of them and stand at the front door, his tail wagging his entire body. She grinned. “You sure are wordy for an old man,” she told Charlie, giving him a coy glance. “Sometimes I think all you do is talk and eat.”

At that, he reached down and gave her backside a gentle swat. “I’m good for a lot more than that, sweetheart. And you know it.”

Carrying a piping hot tuna-noodle casserole up the Moores’ front walk, Patsy Pringle spotted three figures crossing the street toward her. Although the brisk wind chilled her bare legs and tossed the ruffled hem of her skirt, Patsy paused to wait for them. In a moment, she recognized Jennifer and Jessica Hansen, accompanied by Cody Goss.

“Hey, Patsy!” Cody called out. “We’re bringing supper to the Moores. Lasagna!”

“Lasagna?” Patsy rolled her eyes. “Oh, for pity’s sake, I thought it was my day to bring a meal. Isn’t this Friday?”

“Today is Saturday, Patsy!” Cody bent over, slapped his thigh, and laughed. “We’ll have to get you over to Brenda’s basement and teach you how to read a calendar.”

Both young women giggled as they reached out to hug Patsy.

“I came home for the weekend,” Jessica explained. The younger of the two Hansen girls, she was a sophomore in college and newly engaged. “Mom and Jen and I are working on wedding invitations. Cody’s helping too. I can’t believe how many people are on our list.” Jennifer nodded. “I think Mom has invited the whole church, and Dad keeps adding real estate clients.”

“My job is to tie an apricot ribbon through a hole in each invitation,” Cody said. “Apricot is Jessica’s wedding color. Everyone is wearing apricot, even me.”

“Gracious!” Patsy sized up the handsome young man and wondered how Cody would look in an apricot tuxedo. “Well, you can tell me more about it inside. Let’s get out of the weather before our casseroles get cold.”

They hurried across the porch to find Charlie Moore waiting for them at the front door. “Come on in, everyone! Bless you all for volunteering to bring us dinner. We might have starved from my bad cooking.”

Patsy laughed as she hurried past him through the door. “Brr. This cold snap has about frozen off my fingers and toes.”

“Look at this, now!” Charlie said, assessing the lineup in his living room. “What do we have here? Two beautiful Hansen girls. One dashing Cody Goss. And the glorious Patsy Pringle.”

“Patsy’s an apple,” Cody piped up.

“Ample,”
Patsy clarified, feeling a flush heat her cheeks. “It’s something between Pete Roberts and me. Well, not
between us
like a secret or anything. There was a time when … oh, never mind. Come on, girls. Let’s put our dinners in the refrigerator. What do you want for supper tonight, Charlie? Lasagna or tuna-noodle casserole?”

“Two dinners on one night. Now that’s what I’d call ample.” Rubbing his hands together, Charlie followed them into the kitchen. “I know—let me get Esther out of the bedroom. She’ll want to have her say in this decision.”

Before long, Charlie had his wife by the arm and was escorting her into the living room, where everyone had settled. Patsy stifled a gasp of surprise at the sight of her friend. Usually coiffed, dressed in a classy outfit, and wearing a faint trace of perfume, Esther hardly looked like herself. Still in her bathrobe, she shuffled over and collapsed into a chair. Her white hair—about which she was positively vain—had gone flat on one side, with nary a curl in sight.

“Esther!” Patsy cried. “Are you sick?”

“No, it’s just the accident. It threw me off.”

“Off the carport,” Cody said. “I was standing right over there in the kitchen, looking out the window, when I saw your Lincoln go flying through the air, Mrs. Moore. For a second, I thought I was watching a TV show back at my aunt’s house in Kansas. But then I saw the smoke and heard the horn—and I realized it was really happening. That’s when I hightailed it outside.”

“The whole incident is a blur to me now.” Esther fiddled with her hair. “I’m worn to a frazzle. I can’t seem to find the energy to do anything.”

“I’ve got you scheduled for your set-and-style next Friday,” Patsy told her.

“Oh, I won’t be able to go out by then. I’m a wreck.”

“How about if we move your appointment up to Tuesday? You’ll feel so much better once we do your hair.”

“I don’t know.” Esther waved her hand. “It’s not that important to me now.”

“But you’ve always loved getting your set-and-style,” Patsy protested. “And what on earth are you doing in your bathrobe at this hour of the day, honey? We need you back in action.”

“That’s right, Mrs. Moore,” Cody said. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but Ashley Hanes does
not
know how to do minutes at the TLC. She doesn’t care a bit about parliamentary procedure. I bet she hasn’t even read
Robert’s Rules of Order
. She did new business first, you know. Then she said she wasn’t going to read old business because we were smart enough to remember it—which might be true, but all the same, it’s not right. You better come next week, or the TLC will go straight to pot.”

When Esther didn’t speak, everyone turned to Charlie. Looking bemused, he shrugged. “In the last few days, we’ve talked till we’re blue in the face. If anyone knows how to talk things through, it’s Esther and me. She’s tried to tell me how she feels, but I still don’t understand why she’s so worn-out. The doctor said nothing was broken, and her bruises are nearly gone. She’s as healthy as a horse except for an occasional headache, but Esther seems to think she’s on her deathbed.”

“Who can think about death when there’s so much to live for?” Jessica asked.

The younger of the two girls, she had been Camdenton High School’s homecoming queen her senior year. Patsy had styled her hair for the big event. Though she didn’t like to brag, Patsy felt it was one of her best updos ever.

“Mrs. Moore,” Jessica continued, her voice rising in animation. “I was hoping I could count on you to serve drinks at my reception. The punch will be raspberry flavored with apricot sherbet balls floating in it. And we’re having a chocolate fountain, too! Have you ever seen one? Melted chocolate pours out of the fountain just like water, and you dip strawberries or bananas or whatever you want into it! We’re putting a huge apricot bow with apricot carnations at the end of every pew too. The church is going to be gorgeous!”

For a moment, no one responded. Jessica’s face sobered, and she glanced uncomfortably at her older sister.

Then Esther spoke up.

“Sherbet balls?” she queried. “In the
punch
? Those are going to melt in the first five minutes, Jessica. You’ll be left with a bowl full of apricot goo.”

“Really? I never thought of that.”

“You need to find something you can freeze good and solid. That way it’ll keep its shape the whole way through the reception. And have you given any consideration as to what to do with the punch cups? If you invite as many guests as you mentioned, you’ll have empty punch cups sitting all over the place. I think we’re going to need someone to keep the fellowship hall tidied up. How about if we put the Finley twins to work? They’d look so cute roaming around with silver trays.”

“What a great idea! We could dress them both in apricot!”

“I doubt you’ll get Luke into anything apricot, but you can try. He’s as cute as a bug’s ear.”

“I’ll talk to Kim about it at church tomorrow. I’ve been reading all the bridal magazines, Mrs. Moore, but there are so many things to plan. I’m scared I’ll forget something really important. Do you want to know the main problem I’m having right now?”

Esther leaned forward. “What is it, sugar?”

“The guest book. Do you think an ostrich quill pen is too over-the-top? It seems like it would be so pretty, but I’m just not sure.”

As Esther gave her opinions on the topic of ostrich quill pens, Patsy looked across the living room at Charlie. For the first time since they’d entered the house, he was smiling.

CHAPTER FOUR

C
ome on, Boofer. I mean it now.”

Charlie pulled his golf cart into the carport and turned off the motor. As usual, his loyal traveling companion refused to budge. The plump little black mutt viewed the golf cart as a magic carpet that would take him to foreign lands where he could view vistas heretofore unknown. Who would want to leave such wonders?

Though Charlie drove the same path around the Deepwater Cove neighborhood two or three times a day, the experience thrilled Boofer as if he’d never seen the place in his life. Each smell, each dashing squirrel, each gust of breeze delighted and amazed the dog, who literally grinned the entire way along the road. By the time Charlie had stopped the cart to chat with neighbors, surveyed the lake, picked up the mail, and accomplished whatever other tasks he’d assigned himself, he was ready to head into the house for a while.

Not Boofer.

He sat firmly adhered to the golf cart’s vinyl seat, refusing to move, until finally Charlie pretended he was abandoning the stubborn dog. “Well, have it your way, Boof,” Charlie said, as he did every day. “I … guess I’ll go see what’s on the stove for dinner.”

The moment he opened the screen door that led into the house, Charlie heard Boofer leap from the cart and scamper toward him, tiny black claws skittering on the cement carport floor. Before the man could set one foot inside, the dog had hurtled past him and was racing around the house, looking for Esther.

This evening, Charlie’s wife was once again a queen in her realm. Esther had returned to her kitchen.

But things were not as they once had been. True, Esther still rose every morning to make Charlie’s breakfast, and she prepared their sandwiches for lunch. But that was about it. Women from the church still regularly brought casseroles or pot roasts to the house. And nearly every afternoon at around three o’clock, Ashley Hanes showed up to help Esther start putting dinner together.

Sometimes the young woman dropped by earlier in the day to string necklaces while Esther sorted and organized beads. Though Charlie liked Ashley well enough, it often startled or even distressed him to find her inside the house. It was his private haven, the cocoon he withdrew into for rest and refreshment. On the other hand, Ashley’s presence was about the only thing that perked up Esther’s spirits. The pair of them chattered so much that it became a verifiable hen party.

Two weeks had passed since the accident, and Charlie had expected his wife to be back to her same old self. But just about every day Esther announced that she felt frail. Or weak. Or tired. Her hips, her back, her neck, her eyes, even her skin—something was always out of whack. Once in a while she told her husband she was feeling “goofy,” to which Charlie had silently replied,
“So what else is new?”

“Where’ve you been, sugar?” Esther called over her shoulder as Charlie hung his jacket in the closet by the door. “Ashley and I are in a bind. The other day, Cody broke the can opener, and we need you to open these beans or we’ll never get them into the pot in time.”