Tending Roses (15 page)

“Kate, I didn’t . . .” he interrupted defensively. Then he paused and looked at me, snapping his mouth shut. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

You can’t turn a heart with hard words.
“I said, I thought I could help you get your work done. You look tired.”

He nodded, combing a hand through the tangle of dark hair on his forehead. “Um-hum. But everything is about done. I stayed up last night and finished the report. It’s over there if you want to proof it for me. And that ought to pretty well wrap it up.”

It was my turn to be surprised. “You mean you’re finished with the project?” Looking at him, exhausted and unshaven, I realized he probably hadn’t slept since we talked on the phone the day before.

“Pretty much.” He stood up, rolling his head back and yawning, his blue eyes partly closed. There was a hint of a wicked gleam there. “I thought you told me to finish up and get my butt home for Christmas.”

I smiled, glancing at Josh as he yawned and stretched his arms, looking like his father. A tender sense of family love warmed inside me. “I did . . . but I didn’t think you were listening.”

Ben leaned forward, kissed me on the forehead, and then kissed Josh, grinning slyly. “I was listening.”

He sat down at the computer and went back to work. I took Josh to the nursery down the hall and laid him in one of the cribs, then went back and helped Ben finish his paperwork. Within an hour and a half, we had packaged the blueprints, specs, and reports for mailing, and Ben was ready to go home and fall into bed. I had the romantic notion of going with him, but then realized I had Grandma and Dell and the Buick to drive back, so I kissed him good-bye, picked up Josh from the nursery, and went to look for Grandma and Dell.

I found them on a bench in the church lobby. Everything looked surprisingly peaceful. Grandma’s chin was tilted up in a self-satisfied way, and Dell was wearing a rare but adorable smile.

“You two look like you had a good time,” I said, stopping in front of them. I couldn’t imagine why both of them looked so pleased.

Grandma didn’t volunteer any information, but Dell was quick to point to some brown paper sacks at her feet. “We did. Look what I got.”

Squatting down, I looked in the first sack. It was full of notebooks, pencils, pens, coloring books, and some costume jewelry. Confounded, I opened the other sacks and saw adorable little-girl clothes, some new and some looking as if they had been worn a few times. As hard as it was to believe, I could only assume that Grandma had taken Dell . . . shopping? It was like Elmer Fudd buying gifts for Bugs Bunny.

“What’s all this?” I asked.

Grandma just shrugged and glanced away, but her lips were trembling with a withheld grin. “The Baptist Ladies Mission in Springfield sent far too much for our Christmas drive this year. I thought Dell might take some of the things home with her and get them out of our way.”

I knew this was all far from accidental. I suddenly understood why Grandma had stalled me all morning. She was waiting for Dell to show up, not so Dell could carry groceries or help her at the church. She had planned to take Dell shopping in the donated goods.

My throat prickled as if I had swallowed a cocklebur, and I just sat there unable to say anything, thinking of what a wonderful thing Grandma had done. Beneath that mask of curmudgeon, there was a heart that cared whether Dell Jordan had decent clothes to wear and supplies for school.

We didn’t talk much as we climbed into the car and started toward home. In the rearview mirror, I could see Dell resting her head against the backseat with the grocery sacks clutched in her lap. She looked excited and happy, as a child should look at Christmas. Grandma looked like a girl at Christmas herself. Her pale blue eyes glittered with emotion, and she was struggling to maintain her trademark frown.

When we arrived at home, Grandma fixed tea and cookies, and we sat in the dogtrot for an impromptu fashion show. Dell carried her bags upstairs, changed in one of the bedrooms, then paraded down the stairs in one outfit after another. Grandma had washed Dell’s face and tied her hair in a ribbon, and she looked like a real little girl. The rag doll with the frown was gone. It was impossible not to smile with her. Even Joshua joined in the excitement, giggling and cooing as Dell paraded in her new clothes.

When the fashion show was finished, Dell sat on the bottom step in a daisy-print dress she was reluctant to take off.

I picked up the teacups and leftover cookies as she dangled a string of plastic beads over Joshua’s carrier while he flailed his hands in the air, babbling happily.

“Now, don’t let him get hold of those,” Grandma scolded. “He’ll put them in his mouth and choke.”

Dell pulled back as if she’d been accused, and sat with the beads and her hands in her lap.

I frowned at Grandma’s harshness. “She’s all right. He’s enjoying looking at the beads, and he can’t reach them.” I wondered why Grandma felt the need to throw cold water on such a perfectly wonderful day.

Dell ducked her head, and the room fell silent. Disappointed, I finished picking up the tea things and walked to the kitchen. Sometimes Grandma’s timing could be so bad. She always picked the most vulnerable moments to pull out her Mr. Hyde personality.

The silence in the hall continued until I heard Joshua fuss. I moved close to the door, but he stopped grumbling and started jabbering, and I could tell someone had picked him up. Stepping into the hall, I saw Dell sitting on the rug at the bottom of the stairs with her legs folded and Joshua balanced in her lap. Grandma was poised behind her with hands suspended in the air, as if afraid Dell would suddenly drop him. Dell didn’t seem to notice. She was too enthralled with Joshua’s baby talk.

I stood by the doorway watching them, and a sense of amazement filled me. It was as if the spirit of a real child had come to inhabit the body of the somber little rag doll. Her face was flushed and bright, her raven eyes alive with laughter and tenderness. There was the little girl I had wondered about, but never seen—the one who could smile and giggle, make silly sounds and funny faces.

Grandma spoke, and that girl disappeared like a mirage.

“Now, you must be sure to keep hold of him. He can wriggle out of your hands in a hurry.” The harsh tone was gone from her voice. “He surely seems to enjoy sitting there with you.”

I guess Dell was pleased. It was hard to tell. She ducked her head, but didn’t offer to give Josh back. I had the distinct impression that she would have been just as happy for Grandma to leave and the baby to stay.

“I know how to give him a bottle if he’s hungry,” she offered. “And change his diaper. I used to have a little brother.”

“You did?” Grandma sounded surprised.

I wondered what “used to” meant.

“Um-hum,” Dell said, but she didn’t offer any more information. She brushed a few strands of grass off the rug as if it were of great concern.

“What was his name?” Grandma pressed, sounding curious and slightly suspicious.

“Angelo.” Dell played patty-cake with Josh’s feet, seeming uninterested in the conversation. “He didn’t look like me. He looked kinda like Joshua. He didn’t have a ugly no-good daddy.”

A sickening lump rose in my throat and descended to my stomach like bile. She had said the words as if they were the most natural thing in the world, just a fact of life, something simple and of no consequence, barely worthy of conversation.

Grandma was silent for a long time. She dropped her hands to her sides and her shoulders sagged. Finally, she said, “Where is your brother now?”

“Mama took him and give him to his daddy,” Dell answered nonchalantly. “She was afraid he’d fall in the river and get drowned. Granny says she didn’t hear no more about him after Mama died. I had a dream about him one night. I think he lives in a big house.”

Grandma’s words drummed in my mind. I wondered what she was thinking and what she would say.

They sat silent for a while, Dell seemingly engrossed in playing with Josh and Grandma with her chin tilted back, looking toward the ceiling, dabbing her eyes with her hankie.

Dell looked up finally, watching Grandma with an intense expression. “Do you think I have a ugly no-good daddy?”

Grandma cleared her throat and looked at Dell. When she spoke, her voice was trembling. “I think that’s not a very nice thing to say,” she said quietly. “You are a child of God and a beautiful gift to this world.”

Dell sighed and tilted her head to one side, frowning, obviously not satisfied with the answer. She watched Grandma Rose, her dark brows slightly lowered, the question still in her face. “God don’t know me. We didn’t ever go to church.”

My eyes filled with tears as Grandma reached out, her aged hands trembling, and combed back the dark strands of Dell’s hair. Dell didn’t move away, and she met Grandma’s gaze. “God knows you, child. He is mindful of every bird in the air, and every fish in the sea, and every flower that blooms in the field. They are beautiful to Him, just as you are.” She cupped Dell’s chin in her hand lovingly, leaning forward so that their faces were close. “You must remember that when people are unkind to you and try to make you feel as if you are less than they are. Your Father in heaven made every strand of hair on your head and every ounce of flesh on your bones. You are perfect, and beautiful, and just the way you are intended to be.”

The phone rang, and I jumped, then rushed into the kitchen to answer it. My voice shuddered as I said hello.

“Kate?” I recognized the voice of Dianne, my assistant at work.

“Hi, Dianne.” Clearing the lump from my throat, I tried to sound a little more businesslike.

“Is everything all right? You sound upset.”

“No. I’m fine. I’ve just got something in my throat.” The last thing I needed was for Dianne to think I was falling apart emotionally. She was good at her job, but also young and ambitious. She had a way of taking over things if I didn’t keep clear lines between her job and mine. Of course, with me being away so long, the lines were quickly disappearing. “Did you need something?”

“Yes.” She sounded as if she were in a hurry and frustrated. “Paul wants a copy of the original packet on the MTBE oxygenates contamination study, and I can’t find it. He says it’s important, and he needs it yesterday.”

“Is there a problem?” Alarm bells rang in my head. When my boss wanted something that quickly, it usually spelled trouble, and the study of gas additives in the drinking water supply was one of my favorite projects.

“I don’t know. I think he’s just in a grouchy mood because you’re not here.”

I chuckled. “He’s that way when I
am
there. That’s just Paul. It’s your day. Just give him the packet and try to stay out of his way. Tomorrow it’ll be someone else’s day.”

“All right.” She sighed, sounding demoralized. “Where is it?”

“In the basement files under the project code number. That’s why you couldn’t find it. I already sent it off to the morgue, because there shouldn’t have been a need for it anymore.”

“O.K. Thanks.”

“No problem. Don’t let him get to you.”

“I won’t.” She sounded a little better. “Everything all right down there?” she asked, but I could tell she was in a hurry to get off the phone and didn’t really want to talk.

“Fine, thanks.”

“Oh . . . um . . . good,” she muttered, sounding distracted. “Well, have a good Christmas and I’ll try not to call you again.”

“Call me if you need me. It’s not a problem.”

We said good-bye and I hung up. I stood for a moment looking into the hallway at Dell and Grandma, now sitting silently together. Chicago and the trouble at work flew from my mind and I thought again about what Dell had said, and about Grandma Rose’s book and how little had changed in her long life. Poverty and ignorance still existed, and cruelty was the house they lived in. It still wasn’t fair that some children had many nickels for the carousel while others had few. It was still true that some were greater while others were less.

For a long time, I stood watching them as Dell played with Joshua, and Joshua laughed, and Grandma sat watching the two of them with her hands in her lap, very still, as if she had slipped so far away that she was oblivious to the movement and noise of the children.

Finally, I walked into the hallway and broke the spell. Dell looked at me as if she were afraid I would be upset with her for picking up the baby. She carefully put him back in his carrier, then stood up.

“Lay your dress on the bed in the upstairs bedroom,” Grandma told her. “I’ll mend that button on the back and press it for you so that it will be ready for church.”

Dell nodded at Grandma, then turned to me with a look alive with wonder. “Mrs. Vongortler says I can go to Christmas church with her on Sunday.” Then she turned around in a flash and dashed up the stairs in a cloud of billowing green daisy-print.

“Are you sure she
wants
to go to church?” I asked.

“All children want to know the Lord,” Grandma replied flatly, busying herself with picking lint off her dress. “It is perfectly natural that she would want to learn. Just because her family are heathens does not mean she must be.”

I watched her for a minute, trying to gauge her answer, but she was looking away from me toward the stairs.

“All right,” I said. “As long as it’s her choice and it’s all right with her grandmother. I don’t want Dell to think she has to go.”

Grandma gave me a long, steady look. “I don’t make
you
go. The Lord only wants those who come freely.”

I didn’t have a reply for that, so I changed the subject. “It was really nice of you to get those things for Dell. The kids in town were teasing her about her clothes.”

Grandma shrugged as if she didn’t have great interest in the matter. “She shouldn’t have a problem now. Those things are all washed and ironed, and if she needs them cleaned or mended, she can bring them to me and I will get them fixed for her.”