The Red Gloves Collection (8 page)

The muscles in D.J.’s jaw flexed. For the first time since Earl had met him, the man wasn’t smiling. “You want to apologize to her? Is that it?”

“Yes. Her and her parents. And I want to thank Gideon.” Earl’s heartbeat sped up. “You have no idea … ” His voice drifted. “That little girl changed my life.”

“Oh, I have an idea.” This time D.J.’s smile barely lifted the corners of his mouth. “I’ve known Gideon for a long time. She’s a special little girl.”

Earl’s stomach hurt with the thought of the child going another minute without knowing how sorry he was—how much he appreciated her gift. “Call her, then, will you? So I can tell her what I need to say. Apologize to her and her parents. Make things right. Please?”

D.J. opened his mouth but no words came out. From somewhere deep within him came a sigh that seemed to last a minute. It was the kind of sigh one might expect from a man who’d spent his life working with street people, a man who probably had very little in the way of worldly success.

But not D.J.

In years of taking meals at the mission, Earl had never heard the man sigh.

He knew what was coming. D.J. would politely send him on his way and he’d never see the girl again. Never apologize to her or tell her parents how wrong he’d been. That couldn’t happen. He couldn’t bear it! “Please. I need to talk to her.”

“You can’t.” D.J. locked eyes with Earl. “Gideon’s sick. She’s in the hospital.” His gaze fell and with it, Earl’s heart. “They don’t know if she can be home for Christmas.”

The child was sick? Hadn’t she been healthy a week ago at the mission dinner? “You mean like the flu or something?”

“No.” D.J. looked up. His face was pale. “She has cancer, Earl. Leukemia.”

“What?” Earl grabbed the door frame to keep from falling. “Since when?”

“She was in remission a week ago.” He bit his lip. “But she’s worse now. A lot worse.”

A pit the size of a bowling ball filled Earl’s gut. His head was spinning and he shuffled across D.J.’s office to the nearest chair. “I did this.” His words were barely more than a mumble. “It’s all my fault.”

“No, Earl.” D.J. took a few steps closer and put his hand on Earl’s shoulder. “Gideon’s been sick for a long time. The doctors knew her cancer would come back eventually. They just hoped it wouldn’t be this soon.”

Earl squeezed his forehead between his thumb and forefinger. Now the poor child was lying in a hospital bed, knowing that one of her last acts of kindness had been rejected. Since last night, he’d wanted to pick up the phone and tell her how sorry he was, how thankful. But it was too late. He could hardly call her at the hospital if she was that sick.

“It’s not your fault, Earl.” D.J. cleared his throat. “These things happen.”

Earl felt a hundred years old as he struggled to his feet. He locked eyes with D.J. “Is there anything I can do?”

“We can pray.” D.J.’s eyes grew watery. “She needs a bone marrow transplant but her family can’t afford it. Without that, her chances … well, they aren’t good.”

The seedling of an idea sprouted in Earl’s mind. “How expensive is it?”

“The transplant?”

“Yes.” Earl’s heartbeat doubled. “How much does it cost?”

“Tens of thousands of dollars, Earl. More than you and I will ever have.”

“Actually … ” Earl considered his words carefully. He didn’t want to sound like a lunatic. “I have some money put away.”

“What?” D.J. uttered a curious chuckle and studied Earl. “How much do you have?”

Earl didn’t blink. “How much does she need?”

The mission director stared at Earl for a long time. “Maybe it’s time you told me your story.”

“Maybe it is.” Earl settled back in the chair and looked hard at D.J. “I wasn’t always like this.”

“Most street people aren’t.” D.J. cast him a kind smile. “Something happens: a death, an addiction, a lost job, a bout of depression. You’d be surprised at the stories behind some of the regulars at the mission.”

Earl was quiet. “I guess I never thought about it. They’re just like me.”

“That’s normal. It’s hard to see past the dirty clothes and haggard faces, hard to imagine anything other than the vacant eyes and familiar stench. But bottom line is this: Everyone has a story.”

Dirty clothes and familiar stench?
Earl let the words play again in his mind. What would Anne and Molly think about the way he’d let himself become? Shame wrapped its arms around him and squeezed until he could barely breathe.
Help me, God. Let me see beyond this meaningless life I’ve created.

“Okay.” The mission director motioned to him. “So tell me yours.”

Tears welled up in Earl’s eyes as for the first time in five years he allowed himself to go back to that December five years ago—allowed himself to remember the events that had led him to a life on the streets. As they had in the alleyway the night before, layers began falling from Earl’s heart until he knew exactly where to start. Back at the beginning. In the days when he’d first fallen in love.

When the images were clear, they formed words. And finally, after years of silence, Earl began to speak.

CHAPTER TEN

H
er name was Anne.” Earl’s vision grew cloudy as he drifted back in time. “We grew up across the street from each other. Down south in Redding, California.”

D.J. crossed one leg over the other and listened.

“She was the prettiest kindergarten girl I’d ever seen, and even though I was two years older, I told my mother she was the one. Some day I was going to marry her.”

The mission director chuckled softly as Earl’s story tumbled out.

At first his parents had smiled the way parents do when their children say something cute and innocent. They’d patted him on the head. “Sure, son. Marry the girl across the street.” Right.

As the years passed, Earl never wavered in his plan. But there was one problem.

Anne didn’t know he was alive.

Outgoing and social, she was surrounded by friends and only waved at him occasionally when they passed in the street outside their respective homes. But all that changed the summer Anne turned sixteen. That year, Earl’s first out of high school, she and her friends took to tanning in the front yard. One afternoon, an hour after Earl got home from work, Anne knocked at his door.

“Hi, Earl.” Her smile outshone the sun. “My friend wants to meet you. Why don’t you come over and hang out with us for a while?”

Earl had finished work at three that day. With his heart knocking about and his hands sweaty, he changed into shorts, jogged across the street, and took his place with the girls. Long after her friends went home, Anne stayed and chatted with him.

“How come we never did this before?” She angled her face, her eyes dancing.

“Busy, maybe.” Earl could feel his face growing hot. Now that they were alone he was terrified she would see the truth. That he’d been in love with her since before she could write her name.

She leaned back, and the breeze played in her hair. “Know what my friend said about you?”

“What?” Earl relaxed some.

“She said I’m lucky you live across the street.” Anne batted her eyelashes at him. “And that you’re the best-looking guy she’s seen all year.”

“That’s good, I guess.” Earl shrugged. “Of course, does she get out much?”

Ripples of laughter spilled from Anne’s slender throat and she fell back against the grass. When she regained control she locked eyes with him. “So … you dating anyone serious?”

“Nope. You?”

Anne shook her head, her expression achingly innocent. “I’m too young.”

“Yeah.”

She bit her lip. “I turned sixteen last month.”

Ead’s mind raced. Why was she telling him this? “Really?”

“Really.” She hesitated. “That means I can date. But only guys I trust. You know, guys I’ve hung out with before. Guys my parents have met.”

The lining of Earl’s mouth felt like paper. He swallowed. “Right.” Again he had no idea where the conversation was headed.

“So … ” Anne’s smile grew suddenly shy. “Maybe you and I can hang out this summer.”

“Yeah.” Earl’s heart exploded in fireworks, but he kept his tone level. “Maybe we could.”

T
he memory faded and Earl blinked at the mission director. “After that we were inseparable. Spent the summer swimming and fishing at Lake Shasta. Every moment I wasn’t working, I was with Anne.”

“She sounds like a wonderful girl.”

Earl nodded. “She— She was.” Even now the past tense hurt—hurt as bad as the parts of the story yet ahead.

The pieces of yesterday came into focus once more, and Earl continued.

At the end of the summer, Earl and Anne took a walk through their neighborhood.

“I’ve been thinking.” He kicked at a smattering of loose gravel on the sidewalk.

“That’s good.” She elbowed him in the ribs and gave him an easy grin. “I wonder sometimes.”

He chuckled and slowed his pace. “Actually,” his eyes met hers, “I was thinking how we’ve hung out all summer.”

She stopped and faced him. Earl was certain she had never looked more beautiful. “We have, haven’t we?”

“Mm-hmm.” He smothered a lopsided grin. “And I’ve met your parents.”

“Several times.”

“So maybe the two of us ought to … ”

Anne took a step closer. “I’m listening.”

Earl exhaled and it sounded like a weary laugh. “What I’m trying to say is, Anne, would you go out with me Saturday night? Please?”

As long as he lived, Earl would never forget the way her eyes lit up. “You know what, Earl?”

“What?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Their first date was sheer magic. A picnic dinner along the shores of Lake Shasta and afterwards milk shakes at the A&W. They got home early and sat in the porch swing at her house. Before Earl crossed the street and went back home they shared the briefest kiss. With their faces still inches apart, Earl searched her eyes and brushed a lock of hair gently off her forehead.

“When I was seven I thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world.”

She giggled. “When you were seven?”

“Yep.” He brushed his lips against hers again. “I used to tell my dad that one day I was going to marry you.”

Anne’s face softened. “Really?”

“I was just a kid.” He drew back so he could see her better. “But, yeah, that was my dream.”

“Well … ” The moonlight reflected in her eyes, and Earl could see the depth of her soul. “My daddy used to tell me the best thing about dreams was this.”

He waited, wanting to kiss her again.

Her voice fell to a whisper. “Every once in a while they come true.”

In many ways that night marked the beginning. Because after that there was no turning back for either of them. By the time Anne was a senior in high school and Earl into his second year as an electrician, no one doubted Earl’s intentions.

Two years later, he proposed.

Anne happily accepted and they were married that summer.

E
arl blinked as the images faded from his mind. His eyes met D. J.’s again. “Being married to Anne was … it was like all my dreams had finally come true.”

“Yes.” The mission director shot an understanding smile at Earl. “Marriage is like that.”

“I didn’t think I could be happier.” Earl held his breath. “Until two years later when Molly was born.”

Earl settled back into his story. At first, Anne had struggled to get pregnant. For that reason, they were thrilled beyond hope that fall when Anne delivered a healthy baby girl. Earl spent hours standing over their daughter’s crib, staring at her. The perfect features and scant feathering of dark hair. Her precious lips. Even as an infant she was the mirror image of Anne, and Earl used to fall asleep feeling like the luckiest man in the world.

In the following years Anne lost two babies and then began having severe bouts of abdominal pain. The doctors found her uterus scarred and diseased; a hysterectomy was her only option. The day after Molly’s fifth birthday, Anne underwent the surgery. Molly didn’t understand the implications, so Anne and Earl did their grieving in private.

“I’m so sorry, Earl.” Anne buried her face against Earl’s shoulder that night in the hospital room. “I wanted to give you a houseful of babies.”

Earl silenced her with a kiss. “No, sweetheart, don’t ever say that. It isn’t your fault. And besides, I’d rather have Molly than a dozen other children. With her, our family is complete.”

It was true, and after Anne’s surgery it became even more so. The three of them were together constantly. They shared meals and conversation and storytime when Molly was little. As she grew, they took weekend drives to Medford and Grant’s Pass.

They were only apart on Sunday mornings. Anne would take Molly to service, but she never pushed the idea on Earl. Never even asked him to come. Except on Christmas Eve. Earl was adamant about not attending.

A decision he would regret until he drew his last breath.

Molly was blessed with a voice that moved people to tears. From an early age she sang at church arid took piano lessons. As she got older, she spent many evenings entertaining her parents.

Sometime after Molly reached middle school, Anne took a job teaching first grade. It was the perfect supplement to Earl’s modest living and it allowed them to spend a week each summer traveling to exotic places—the south of France, the Caribbean, or Bermuda.

But though they cherished their summer vacations, Christmas was easily the family’s favorite time of year.

From early on, Earl and Anne and Molly had enjoyed a tradition. The three of them would each exchange one homemade present. A card or a poem or sometimes a framed piece of artwork. Something Anne had knit or sewn, or a special craft. One year Molly even sang her parents a song she’d written. Each Christmas these were the gifts they looked forward to most. The gifts they remembered.

That was true even up until their last year together.

That spring Earl was laid off and times were rougher than they’d ever been. In June, instead of traveling, they sold their house and furniture and moved in with Earl’s parents. Anne’s folks had sold their house by then, but Earl’s still lived right where he’d grown up. It was a sprawling place with six bedrooms and three baths. Plenty of room for Earl and his family.