Summer of Joy (18 page)

David looked back at the road. All day he’d sensed something was bothering Leigh even though she’d kept smiling, kept telling him everything was fine. He knew she was nervous about him meeting her parents. He was a little nervous about meeting her parents himself, afraid they might not approve of him as a prospective son-in-law, and he could understand why. First off, he was divorced. Undeniable proof he’d failed at marriage once. He didn’t think he’d fail again. Not with Leigh as his bride, but her parents had no reason to believe that. Plus he was old for Leigh, already a grandfather. On top of that, preachers didn’t make much money. They lived on faith more years than not. All he really had to offer Leigh was his love and steadfast devotion. Maybe for her parents that wouldn’t seem like enough.

The windshield wipers sweeping the snow off the windshield sounded loud in the silence building between them. Up ahead David spotted a deserted driveway and pulled off the road.

“So are we turning around?” Leigh asked as she looked out at the snow.

“No. We need to talk.”

“Oh.” She glanced at David and then looked back down at her hands. “About what?”

“You tell me. Something is bothering you, and if something is bothering you, then something is bothering me.” He turned sideways in the seat and took both of her hands, gently pulling her around to face him. “I want us to be as one the way the Bible says. Hearts and souls and minds. That can’t happen if we try to hide our problems from one another. So tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s really wrong.” Her eyes came up to meet his. “It’s just that my mother isn’t too excited about me being in love with you.”

“That’s understandable. I’m not the ideal candidate for son-in-law.”

“You’re my ideal candidate for husband.” Leigh’s face softened for a moment, but then the worry came back. “To be honest, I’m not sure what they might say to you today. I’m never sure what they might say to
me
. I mean I know they love me, but it’s sometimes hard to tell when I’m with them. It’s not like at your house.”

“I hope not. It can be a madhouse there sometimes.”

“But a nice madhouse. A happy one.” Leigh looked back out at the snow. “My parents are always fussing with one another.”

“I’m sorry about that for their sake,” David said. “But you don’t have to worry about me. I have a tough hide. And they can’t be all that bad if they raised a beautiful daughter like you.”

Leigh had tears in her eyes when she looked back at him. “Thank you, David.”

“For what?”

“For loving me.”

“You’re welcome.” David looked at her. “Now is there anything else you’ve not been telling me?”

“You haven’t told me everything either,” Leigh said.

“Not yet, but I will. You’ll get so tired of hearing my problems, you’ll want to get earplugs.” David smiled.

“I doubt it, but okay, there is one other thing.” Leigh took a deep breath.

“Uh-uh. This doesn’t sound good. You’re not backing out on me, are you?”

“No, never. But you have to promise me you won’t get too upset.”

“How can I promise when I don’t know what I’m going to get upset about?”

“Edwin Hammond.”

“Edwin Hammond? What about him? Did he send more roses?” He tried to keep the growl out of his voice, but he felt it inside.

“No, he called me.”

“What did he want?”

“I don’t know. To let me know he sent the roses, I guess. I barely know the man, but something about him gives me the willies. Even over the phone.”

“You want me to call him and tell him to leave you alone?” David said. First the man picked on his daughter and now he was chasing after the woman he loved. Was the Lord testing David’s ability to control his temper? To turn the other cheek?

“No, no. I already told him not to call me again. And I feel better now that you know he called. Now I can go back to worrying about what awful things my parents are sure to say to you. And about sliding off the road in this snow.” She smiled and leaned over to give him a quick kiss. “Promise no matter what that I get to keep the ring.”

“It’s yours. I’m yours. Forever.”

By the time they got to Leigh’s parents’ house in Grundy, there was at least an inch of snow on the ground. Leigh gripped David’s arm as they walked to the door. “Can we just go on back to Hollyhill? Please.”

“Not until I meet my future in-laws,” David said as he punched the doorbell.

Inside after the flurry of introductions and hellos, Leigh shrugged off her coat and leaned close to David to whisper, “Might as well get it over with.”

She turned back to her parents and held her hand out to show the ring. Mrs. Jacobson gave a little shriek that didn’t sound a bit joyful and sank down on the couch in a near faint while Mr. Jacobson looked over at David and said, “Well, well. So you popped the question. Just how old are you anyway?”

“Dad!” Leigh said. “Mind your manners.”

The man laughed. “You should have warned him that I don’t have any manners. But don’t worry, I’ll let him pray over the food as soon as your mother pulls herself together. Catherine, dinner is going to ruin if we don’t eat soon.”

David was already doing some praying. Still, he wasn’t sure what to say or do first. Leigh was stroking her mother’s hair and talking softly to her as the woman half whimpered, half moaned. “Now, Mother, don’t take on so. This is wonderful news. You need to be happy for me.”

“Should I go get her a glass of water?” David offered.

“That won’t do any good unless you’re planning to throw it in her face. That might help,” Mr. Jacobson said.

David didn’t know what to say to that. It might be that he should have gotten Leigh to tell him a little more about her parents. She’d told him that her mother had a weight problem and used guilt as her number one weapon to keep Leigh in line. She’d said her father was retired and played a lot of golf. That was about it except for what she’d told him in the car about them fussing a lot.

Leigh looked over her shoulder at her father. “Dad, stop being so mean.”

“I’m not being mean. Just honest. Preachers preach about being honest, don’t they? Thou shalt not lie. That’s in the Bible, isn’t it, Preacher?” Mr. Jacobson said.

“It is,” David said.

“But I’ll bet you lie sometimes. You’ll probably tell a few tonight. Polite little lies like it’s so good to meet you. Well, that’s not me. I believe in telling the truth whatever.”

“Good,” David said. “I like a man who says things straight out. You don’t have to try to guess what he’s thinking that way. You know.”

“Is that one of your polite little lies, Reverend?”

“No. Just the truth straight out the way you like it.”

Mr. Jacobson smiled. “Well, well, Leigh. Maybe you know how to pick them after all. As long as he doesn’t try to convert me.”

“I always wait until the second visit for that,” David said.

“So, you’re one of those preachers who likes to crack jokes, huh?” The man slapped David on the shoulder and laughed again. Then he looked at Mrs. Jacobson. “All right, Catherine, everybody knows you’re not happy. Now I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”

Mrs. Jacobson sat up and glared at him. “That’s all you think about. What you want. Never the first thought about how I’m feeling.”

“Please, Mother. Don’t start,” Leigh said.

“Me? He’s the one who started it,” Mrs. Jacobson said.

“All I said was let’s eat.” Mr. Jacobson feigned an innocent look. “I thought you were always ready to eat.”

One thing for sure, the man knew how to push his wife’s buttons. But the anger seemed to help her pull herself together as she fought her way free of the soft couch cushions. On her feet, her voice was icy as she said, “It’s ready to put on the table.”

The dinner conversation was stilted. They talked a lot about how good the food was and about how much it was snowing or had snowed on past Christmases. They didn’t talk about the engagement at all. After they ate Mrs. Jacobson’s delicious stack pie, they opened presents. There was no excitement, no paper ripped and tossed on the floor the way it had been at David’s house on Christmas morning. Mr. Jacobson carefully cut each piece of tape with a small silver pocketknife before folding the paper back from his presents. Mrs. Jacobson managed to open her presents just as neatly using her fingernails to cut the tape. They both seemed more interested in preserving the wrappings than what was inside any of the boxes.

At last all the presents were opened. There was a sense of relief as Mrs. Jacobson folded up the last scraps of paper. David sat outside their family circle and wondered how a girl so full of laughter and love could have come from this house of bickering.

“Well, that’s over,” Mr. Jacobson said. “Now how about some more of that stack pie, Catherine, and some coffee? Maybe the preacher here might want some too.”

“Coffee would be great, but I couldn’t eat another bite,” David said.

“We might need to just get some to take with us, Mother,” Leigh said. She went over and turned on the porch light to peer out the window. “The snow’s not letting up. We probably should start back before the roads get too bad.”

“You could always spend the night,” Mrs. Jacobson said with a look at David that said she wished he’d go get lost in a snowdrift somewhere.

“That’s sweet of you, Mother, but we have to get back. We both have to go to work tomorrow, you know. And I think if we leave now, the roads will be okay. Don’t you, David?”

“My car goes good on the snow,” David said. The roads could have been drifted fence-post high and he would have said the same. One of those little lies Mr. Jacobson had talked about earlier, but this one didn’t have the first thing to do with politeness. It was pure survival.

When Mrs. Jacobson started to say more, Mr. Jacobson cut in. “They don’t want to stay, Catherine. They slide off the road into a ditch, then the preacher here will just have to pray his way out of it.”

Mrs. Jacobson clamped her lips together and went to pack up the parcels of food she was sending home with Leigh. At least they’d have plenty to eat if they got snowbound. After they got their coats on and Leigh hugged her mother and father, David shook Mr. Jacobson’s hand and then took Mrs. Jacobson’s hand. He tried to look her in the eyes, but she was staring holes into the middle of his chest. “I love your daughter, Mrs. Jacobson, and I’ll do everything within my power to make her happy.”

The woman’s eyes came up to his then. “She won’t be happy unless she has babies. No woman is.”

“Mother,” Leigh gasped.

David kept smiling. “That’s something Leigh and I will have to decide, but I can certainly understand your desire to have a grandchild.”

“I guess you can. Since you already have one,” Mrs. Jacobson said.

“And he is precious. A gift from the Lord. Just as your daughter is to me.”

When Mrs. Jacobson seemed to not know what to say to that, Leigh jumped between them to give her mother another hug. “It was wonderful, Mother. This is a Christmas I’ll never forget.”

And then they were out the door, stepping through snow over their shoe tops to the car. The snow crunched under the car’s wheels as David backed carefully out of the driveway. He didn’t want to have to pray himself out of the ditch right in front of their house. Once they were back on the main highway, the roads were still fairly clear. There wasn’t much traffic. Just a car now and again. Some other idiot trying to escape his future in-laws’ house.

David was concentrating on driving, feeling every slip of the wheels, but he was keenly aware of Leigh’s silence in the dark beside him. He glanced over at her. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry, David. They were even worse than I thought they would be.”

“Your mother wasn’t too happy about our news, but you know, I’m not marrying your mother. I’m marrying you and you’re happy about our news.”

“I am.” Suddenly Leigh started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” David asked.

“I don’t know. Us. Them. The snow. Everything. I always have to laugh when I leave their house. All that laughter that I couldn’t spill there gets piled up inside me and I have to let it out.”

And so they laughed and prayed their way through the snow back to Hollyhill.

22

Z
ella didn’t like snow. Not even at Christmastime. The only good thing about a white Christmas was the song. Besides, it wasn’t Christmas now. It was the Sunday after. Thank goodness. People got way too carried away by Christmas.

Not that it wasn’t something a Christian should mark, but she’d read somewhere that Bible scholars said Jesus wasn’t even born on Christmas Day. No snow on the stable roof. They claimed somebody just picked that date. Something about there already being some kind of holiday to celebrate the sun starting back closer to the earth. As if the people way back then even knew what the sun was doing. After all, they thought the world was flat as a pancake.

So who knew, and as David said, what difference did it make when they celebrated? The important thing was that Jesus had been born. Some people were always coming up with something to try to mess up a good Christian’s head. A person had to decide what was right. By reading the Bible and praying, of course, but then they just had to stick to it.

One thing for sure, every snowflake outside was sticking to it. To the ground, that is. There had to already be two inches of the white stuff on her front walk. It was plain inconvenient. Not that First Baptist canceled services because of a little snow. Or because families were having Christmas get-togethers. That’s what David’s church had done today. Just called off night services without a second thought. What about getting together as a church family? People should go to services twice on Sunday. It was a person’s Christian duty.

But she couldn’t really wade through all that snow to church, and heaven knew she couldn’t drive. She’d never seen the need of buying snow tires. It didn’t snow all that often, and she could always walk wherever she needed to go in Hollyhill. The way the snow was coming down, though, it might be over her boot tops by the time services were over and she had to walk home.

That’s why she’d called Gertie. Gertie drove a Volkswagen. It looked like some kind of yellow beetle, and a person didn’t have room for her knees inside it, but it scooted along on top of the snow without the first bit of problem. Gertie was going on eighty years old and sometimes turned the wrong way down one-way streets, but Hollyhill had no business having one-way streets anyhow. People could just back up out of the way if the street was too narrow to pass on. That’s what they’d done for years before Buzz Palmor got to be mayor and decided Hollyhill needed to go modern.