Embrace Me (42 page)

VALENTINE

I
arrange a basket of Easter eggs, the plastic kind, as I sit at the kitchen table early Easter morning. Bobby took a few bucks of mine and ran over to the Dollar General to pick them up along with a baggie of plastic grass. I told him to buy himself a candy bar. He bought two.

Inside each egg nestles a piece of chocolate and one word written on a piece of paper.

Kind

Caring

Friendly

Hardworking

Nice looking

Loving

Generous

Longsuffering

Gracious

Peaceful

Elastic

And finally . . .

Friend

Yeah, it's my peace offering to Rick who's been avoiding me, and rightly so, for a couple of weeks. In the refrigerator two dozen eggs wait to be hidden around the yard of the Laundromat.

I figure,
Why not?

Coffee streams into the pot and Rick's head appears through the doorway. “Hey.”

“Happy Easter, Rick.”

“Same to you, Val.”

I stand up and hold out the basket. “Happy Easter, Rick.”

His eyes hold as much trust as a colander holds water.

“Here, take it. And I'm sorry.”

His hesitation is as deep as the wounds I've given him. He shakes his head. “Nah. That's okay.”

“Rick, I mean it. I'm asking you to forgive me.”

He looks down at the basket. “And you think a little Easter basket's going to make up for all the insults and the shoo-aways?”

“Okay, this isn't going like I'd planned. Before you wave this away, just look inside each egg.”

He lifts the basket from my hands like it's contagious or something.

“Save the white one for last. I'll pour you a cup of coffee.” I turn my back as he opens the first egg.

As each egg displays its word, his face softens more and more.

“Elastic?” He laughs.

“Well. You know.” I shrug.

He keeps opening until finally the white egg alone snuggles into the grass. “Okay. Here goes.”

Friend.

“My friend,” I say. “Rick, please forgive me. I am so sorry for treating you the way I have. I'm an idiot.”

“Okay, Val, you're still my friend.” He rises and puts his arms around me. “Of course I forgive you. You know, it was really nice of you to ask. Can I keep the basket?”

“It's Blaze's.”

“Oh. How about the eggs, then?”

“They're all yours.”

Roland busts through the door. “Happy Easter! Happy Easter! How's my favorite sideshow lady?”

He kisses me on the cheek.

“What about Lella? Isn't she your favorite?”

“You're all my favorite. But when you came up to me at that fair in Virginia, I knew you were special.”

“Hey, I couldn't work in that cafeteria forever.”

Roland's Wayfaring Marvels had set up at a fair just out of Lynchburg, in Madison Heights, and some of the ladies I worked with asked me if I wanted to go.

Lella was so kind when I went through the sideshow. “My, what a lovely scarf. And your hair is just gorgeous! I'll bet you can use grocery store shampoo because it's so naturally shiny and full of body you don't need the expensive salon products.”

I laugh now as I slide a pan of broccoli cheese casserole into the oven. The hams are cooking over at the Laundromat. “You staying for dinner?”

“You bet. Three weeks and we're back on the road. Stuff to do! You excited?”

“How about a hard-boiled egg?”

“Sure.”

When Roland pulled out of Lynchburg, I did too. My father bought me the pickup truck and camper. Roland loved the idea of Lizard Woman and the pay was enough to keep my truck running and propane in the tank of the camper. My needs are small.

“Maybe I don't need that seaside house after all.” I hand Roland his egg.

“Now that's music to my ears. So you going on the road without Lella?”

“Is it for sure?”

“She called me last night.”

I inhale down to my stomach. “Wow.”

“So you still coming?”

“I've got no place else to go, I suppose.”

“It wouldn't be the same without you, Val.” He leans forward. “I'll even give you a raise.”

“You must be desperate.”

“Pretty much sums it up!” And he smiles at me like he would anybody else. Roland doesn't see my scars anymore.

I like that about him.

Who was I kidding with that seaside house anyway? “I mean, I love my little camper.”

“It's a great little setup.”

“And when I stop the sideshow, I can make jewelry, traveling around from craft show to craft show.”

“Or we can grow old together.”

“You're already old, Roland.”

“You said it, Val.”

I've got to leave here. I've got to go back. Maybe Charmaine's wrong. Maybe I can turn my making a living into a real life.

I pick up the kitchen phone. My father's on the other end.

“Happy Easter, Daisy!”

“Happy Easter, Dad!”

He said he was going to church with his wife today, it being the quintessential Christian holiday and the Episcopalians could do it up better than at his church.

“You got any plans?”

“Not really.”

I don't feel like explaining it all.

Despite all of Augustine's pleadings, I'm not attending the Easter service.

“It's one thing for the kids to see me at the Laundromat, and I made an exception for the wedding, but Easter is about lambs and flowers and the Resurrection,” I say on the phone as he pleads with me one last time. “My face will just be a distraction.”

“No way. Oh, come on, Val, you'll have a good time.”

“Nope. But you're coming over later on, right? Rick says we're all going to sit and watch
The Robe
. And I'm making caramel corn.”

He sighs. “Oh, all right. Eating your food is such a chore.”

We hang up.

“I feel like it's my first real Easter,” I say to Bartholomew as I brush my hair. He says I should have seen the first one!

We were all scared to death
, says John.

Phillip shakes his head.

I buzz downstairs and arrange the pans of food in a couple of cardboard boxes. Those Laundromat people want a feast? They'll have a feast.

“Ready to go over?” Blaze slides into the driver's seat of her station wagon.

“Yes. We've got everything.”

“Great. Let's go.” She backs out onto the street, the smell of corn bread filling her wagon. “Why not come in? I mean, Augustine's dad is there, and he's probably feeling uncomfortable. You can sit next to him.”

“Wonderful. I'm uncomfortable enough as it is. Besides, he's been asleep every time I've arrived there for prayers. I don't even know the man.”

Blaze turns onto the street. “Augustine's been a better son than I think I'd be if my father suddenly showed up with his tail between his legs.”

“Well, my bad parent is dead. I swear, it was easier just having her die.”

“Augustine is a kind of satellite around his dad, reminding me of a vulture circling an almost-dead body.”

“Only Augustine doesn't want to pick at the body, he just wants to bury it and get on with his life.”

“You really think that, Val?”

“At least that's my guess.”

“Hmm.” She pulls up to the Laundromat. “Sure you won't come in?”

“I'm just dropping off the food. I'll drive the car back home and pick you up when all is said and done.”

“Nah. I'll get a ride. You just do, well, whatever it is you're going to do all by yourself on Easter Sunday morning.”

“Thanks for that, Blaze.”

“Hey, we all make choices.”

We haul the food into the Laundromat and I escape through the side door before anybody can grab me and make me stay.

Charmaine won't find me on the dock this morning. There's always a lot of hoopla over at Port of Peace Assemblies, and Easter's her favorite day. She says God resurrects things all the time and it's easy to remember that on Easter morning.

Over the lake the sun beats down, turning the water to green.

“How are you?”

I turn at the words. “Hi.”

“It's me. Robbie. From the other day when you fell.”

“I remember. You were very kind. Thank you. I still have your handkerchief.”

“My dad, he's the pastor over at the Highland Kirk, taught me well.”

“Is that a Presbyterian church?”

“Yes. We live right over there.” He twists his trunk and points to a small brown bungalow.

“Nice little house.”

“Are you okay? From the other day.”

“I'm fine.”

“Mind if I have a seat?”

“No.” It seems I can't ever be alone on this dock anyway.

“Are you new to Mount Oak?”

“I winter here. I'm with Roland's show.”