The Charm Bracelet (12 page)

Out of sight, out of mind
, Arden thought, suddenly panicking and reaching into the beach bag to retrieve her cell.
I'll just check my email quickly in case there was an emergency.

“Darn it!” she said after a few seconds. “There's no reception down here! I forgot!”

“This isn't your office, Mom,” Lauren said. “It's the beach. We're supposed to have fun, remember?”

Lauren grabbed a little radio from the beach bag and found a crackly station playing country music.

Strains of Trisha Yearwood drifted into the lake wind, and softly intermingled with the voices of beachgoers and the lapping of the water. A young boy ran by on the beach, ahead of his mother, and plopped onto the sand. The mother handed him a sand bucket, and he began to dig.

Lauren was right,
Arden thought, looking at the little boy and smiling.
Lauren used to do the same thing years ago.

Arden thought about Lauren's words and felt guilty that her daughter had taken on so much responsibility so young.

Arden inhaled—the smell of summer filling her nostrils—and tried to relax. She stared at the Manitou Islands sitting just a few miles out into Lake Michigan.

Manitou was comprised of two islands—North and South—that rose out of the lake like humpback whales. Arden had never visited the islands. They were accessible only by boat and were popular for hiking and camping, but she always wondered how the islands came to be.

“You've always been such a serious girl,” Lolly said, taking a sip of water and staring at her daughter, as if she were reading her mind. “Do you remember when we'd come here when you were a child, and you'd ask how many lifeguards were on duty, or if I brought enough books for you to read, or if there were sharks in the water?”

Arden nodded.

“While other kids were swimming, building sand castles, burying one another, or flying kites, you were always by yourself working and worrying. I always admired your drive and determination, Arden.
I still do.
You are so talented. But I always worried that you'd end up, well, like this … You still don't know how to cut loose, relax, have fun. And I worry that is your great undoing.”

Arden stared down at her towel.

“The funny thing is, my dear, I was exactly like you as a child,” Lolly added.

Arden perked up and Lauren tilted her head. A lake breeze ruffled Lolly's wig and she again found the kite charm and held it out, the sunlight illuminating the silver kite and its long tail.

“But this little charm freed me.”

 

Twelve

1954

Vi Dobbs secured the geometrically patterned scarf over her bald head, twirled around in her bikini, and asked, “How do I look?”

“Beautiful, Mommy!” Lolly answered.

And she was being honest. Her mother—with her high cheekbones and freckled face, blue eyes, pink lips, and girlish figure—was still the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

Even bald.

“You sure you're up to this, Vi?”

“Sssshhhh! Yes! Of course!”

Vi shot her husband a look that silenced him immediately. She had spent the morning in the cabin's tiny bathroom sicker than a dog, but it was a perfect beach day—low eighties, no humidity, slight breeze, pure sunshine—and Vi took little Lolly to Scoops Beach every perfect summer day.

Outside the cabin, Lost Land Lake glimmered with all the possibility of life.

An invisible calendar whirled through Vi's mind, and she shut her eyes to stop the tears that wanted to flow.

How many perfect summer days do I have left with my daughter?
she wondered.

“Are you okay, Mommy?”

Vi bent down and took her daughter's face in her hands, the reflection from the charms on her bracelet casting her little girl in dancing light.

“I'm perfectly fine, my angel! Are you ready to have some fun today?”

Lolly gave her mother an uneasy smile. “I'm okay. Do we have enough water? Is it going to be too hot?”

Vi took a seat in a rocker next to the sewing machine by a window overlooking the lake, and patted her knees. She picked her daughter up and whispered into her ear, “We have enough water, and it's a beautiful day.”

Lolly looked skeptically at her mother, and Vi's heart broke. Since she had been diagnosed with cancer, Lolly had gone from little girl to old soul almost overnight, consumed by worry.

“You don't need permission to have fun, Lolly,” Vi continued to whisper in her daughter's ear. “Fun is the one thing we can do anytime we want. Fun is always free!”

“I don't feel fun,” Lolly said. “I feel sad.”

Vi bounced her knee, trying to shake a giggle out of her little girl, but Lolly clung to the arms of the rocker, refusing to be shaken out of her sadness.

“It's okay to be sad,” Vi said, gently rocking her daughter. “But you can't be sad too long, or it will make everyone around you sad. Fun brings out the good in everyone. That's why we're going to the beach today. I always want you to remember this: When the world is too much to take and when you feel sad, go to the beach and dig in the sand. Run on the beach so the wind blows your hair around. Jump in the lake and scream like you did the first time you swam in Lake Michigan. And fly a kite into the summer sky, so high that”—Vi's voice trembled, but she rocked the tremor away—“I can touch it from heaven and make it dance.

“Listen to me, Lolly: Life can be hard. It can be downright awful and sad. But you must never forget to have fun. It's the most important thing. Okay?”

Lolly shook her head reluctantly. “Okay.”

“Then let's go to the beach!”

As the Woodie backed out of the gravel driveway of the cabin, Vi honked at Vern, who waved as he headed—fishing pole, tackle box, and minnow bucket in hand—into the reeds of Lost Land Lake to work his job as a fishing guide.

“Fudgies have taken over the town,” Vi said, as the Woodie wound down the beach road paralleling downtown. “Do you like my new scarf?”

The windows were down on the Woodie, turning the Roadster into a wind tunnel. Lolly's blond hair stuck out the window at a ninety-degree angle from her head, while the long tie around Vi's scarf rotated like a helicopter propeller. “It's very pretty. Did you make that one, too?”

“I did. Just like your Grandma Mary taught me. And just like I'm teaching you.”

The Woodie moaned as it made its way up the giant dune.

“Attagirl,” Vi cooed to her car, patting the dash tenderly. “You got it.”

When they arrived at Scoops Beach, Vi opened the trunk, stuck her arms straight out, and said, “Load me down like a pack mule!” which was Lolly's cue to load her mother up with towels, beach bags, coolers, and umbrellas, a game they had played forever. As Vi made her way down the boardwalk, however, her pace slowed, and when Lolly caught up to her, she said, “I need a little help today, my dear,” handing her daughter an umbrella and some towels.

“How about here?” Lolly asked. Vi nodded, and Lolly began to carefully set up their spot on the sand as if she were orchestrating a dinner party at the White House.

“We're at the beach, Lolly. We're supposed to have fun. It doesn't need to be perfect.”

Lolly considered her mother's words, but continued with her routine, anchoring the towels, angling the umbrella just so, continuously knocking the sand from her feet and legs every time she took a step or two.

“Do you need anything, Mommy? Are you too hot?”

“What I need,” Vi said, scooching over on her lounge chair, “is for you to come here.”

Lolly squeezed in next to her mother. She started to say something, but her mother shushed her. Vi watched as the warmth of the sun seemed to relax her daughter, until her breathing became one with the rhythmic tide of the beach, the sounds of happy children screaming in joyous delight carried to her on the wind and then whisked away, as if on a magic carpet.

Lolly watched the shadows dance across the Manitou Islands, the clouds cloaking them in darkness before the sun illuminated their dense forestry and running streams.

“Do you know the legend of the Manitou Islands?” Vi asked her daughter.

Lolly shook her head.

“Well, according to the Chippewa Indians, a mother bear fled across Lake Michigan to escape from a great forest fire in Wisconsin with her two cubs. When the mom finally reached the Michigan shore, she climbed a steep bluff to await her cubs. The cubs were so tired from their long swim that they never reached land. The mother bear waited day after day, but her babies never came. Eventually, she died. The Great Spirit Manitou marked her resting place with the Sleeping Bear Dunes and raised North and South Manitou Islands from the spot where her little cubs perished.”

Vi halted, and she reached for her daughter's hand. “That is the love I have for you. That is the love I will always have for you. It will last forever. It will never die.”

Lolly's jaw began to tremble, and a lone tear sprung forth from one of her blue eyes, but Vi said, “And I want your legacy from me to be this: Always wear your charm bracelet and always have fun. Here!” Vi said, grabbing a little box from the side of the aqua beach bag. “I got this as an early birthday gift for you.”

Lolly began to open the gift, tearing at the paper, but her mother stopped her. “Don't forget the poem,” she urged.

“Mom, I'm getting too old for this.”

“You will
never
be too old. How about I say it along with you, okay?”

This charm

Is to let you know

That every step along the way,

I have loved you so.

So each time you open up,

A little box from me

Remember that it really all

Began with You and Me.

Lolly smiled and opened the little box, pulling out a silver charm of a kite with a long, dangling tail, the sun basking the charm in a glorious light.

“This is to a life filled with high-flying fun. Promise me—no matter how hard things get—you will always have fun.”

Lolly began to protest, but her mother reached out to touch her, smiled, and said, “Promise me!”

Vi could feel her daughter's skin flare in goose bumps. She watched her daughter consider her question, look out over Scoops Beach as the wind tousled her hair, and finally nod her head.

“Attagirl!”

Vi winced as she rose out of the lounger, turning her face to hide the pain from her daughter. “Wait here,” she instructed Lolly. “I forgot something. I have to get it from the Woodie.”

Vi imagined that, from a distance, she must look like a ghost to Lolly, through the haze of the sun and the sand. She stopped, took a deep breath to quell the pain, and then ran, faster and faster, tossing something into the air, as if releasing a dove, still running toward Lolly.

A kite!
Lolly gasped.

Lolly ran toward her mother, her feet kicking up sand. Together, they began to run in stride, the kite slowly going higher, higher, higher, the faster they ran.

Thwacka-whacka-whacka-whacka!

The kite made a ruckus as the wind lifted it higher.

“I made it from the funny pages!” Vi said. “It's a homemade newspaper kite!”

“And the tail is made from your sewing scraps!” Lolly said.

The tail danced by their heads, flipping and twirling. People began to stop and point as the duo ran by, clapping their encouragement. The two ran alongside the dunes, the grass dancing, before a gust of wind lifted the kite toward the clouds, and Lolly had to shield her eyes to see how high it had gone.

“Here!” Vi said, handing Lolly the guide, two popsicle sticks stuck through a ball of twine.

“I can't,” Lolly panicked. “I don't know how.”

“Yes, you can. You can do anything you want! Have fun!”

Lolly dropped her hands to her sides, refusing to take the kite.

Vi fell to her knees onto the sand, still gripping the kite. “Lolly, look at me.”

Lolly turned her face toward her mother. Tears were streaming down her sweet little face.

“You're going to die! I'm going to be all alone! I will never have fun again!” Lolly wailed.

Vi looked her daughter directly in the eyes. “You're right, Lolly. I am going to die. But you will never be alone. You will have your father…”

“I won't have you!”

“Yes, you will. I will always be right here…” Vi nodded at her daughter's wrist, as her charms jangled in the summer breeze. “And I will always be up there looking over you like the mama bear forever looks over her cubs.”

Vi looked into the sky, beyond the kite.

“I want you to take this kite and watch how it soars. That's how my soul will be. Now I want your spirit to sail free, like this kite, Lolly. Now, run, my dear. Run into the wind, and let your spirit fly!”

Lolly took hold of the kite, and the two took off running, faster, faster, until the world was a blur. When Vi could no longer keep up, she let go of Lolly's hand.

Watching her daughter run and giggle, Vi's spirit and soul soared, just like the kite.

 

Thirteen

Arden and Lauren sat in silence for a long time, unable to speak.

“I'm so sorry,” Arden said softly. “I can't imagine. And I never knew the legend of the Manitou Islands. It's haunting.”

“I've always thought of it more as a tribute. A mother's greatest fear is that her children will die before her,” Lolly said, watching Lake Michigan roll in and out. “But my mom helped make me the person I am, even though I was so very young when I lost her.”

Lolly stopped and looked at Arden and Lauren. “I can't say I taught you to have fun and that shakes me to my core.”