by Lori Wick
"Look at that," Delancey said, pointing to a man on a corner. His blond Afro appeared to stand a foot off his head, and his face was painted in bold colors. He played the violin as if he were on stage at the Met.
"Don't point," Marrell reminded her, but her eyes were glued to the man as well.
Had they not been so distracted, they might have noticed the lush greenery along the way. A large variety of trees and bushes sprang up on either side, and in the midst of this lay their new home.
They were stopped at the gate, where Paul surrendered his papers and was handed a map and shown directions. The guard saluted and was very courteous, and the new officer at the post thanked him before moving on. Marrell's and the girls' heads turned this way and that as they tried to take it all in.
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They hadn't been told much about their new dwelling, but the base administration knew that Paul had a wife and two daughters. They had lived in some base housing that was very nice and other base housing that they were only too happy to leave. Their apartment in Texas had been very comfortable, but a third bedroom would have been handy.
Several minutes passed as Paul found his way around. Marrell and the girls waited in the car while he reported to the head office for his keys and directions, but it wasn't long before he was back in the car, a 1972 Mustang, consulting the map. After a few moments of study, he headed the car through the hilly terrain of the Presidio yet again. The girls' eyes were huge as they tried to take it in all at one time, but before they could anticipate much more, the car came to a smooth halt on Infantry Terrace. Their father had no more shut off the engine when they bounded out the doors. This was their new home and it lookedbig!
"Well, this is the place," Paul said to Marrell.
"It's beautiful, Paul."
"Yes, and big. They're expecting us at the hospitality barracks tonight, but shall we go inside and see?"
Marrell smiled. "No time like the present."
Paul picked up her hand and led the way up the stairs to the door. He tried to use the key, but the girls made this impossible.
"I'm going to be first, D.J.!"
"You are not!" Delancey answered back, but both girls suddenly found themselves grabbed by the shoulders. When Paul had repositioned them behind their mother, he bent down and spoke firmly to them.
"Your mother is going to be first, and I don't want to hear another word."
He turned back to the door when both girls nodded. He unlocked the door, gave it a push, and looked down at his wife. Marrell smiled up at him and went through the door. Paul could not resist giving her a tap on the seat.
The house was a wonderful surprise. Although a bit musty- smelling, the odor was nothing a few open windows couldn't cure. The entryway was spacious, with hardwood floors that led to a high-ceilinged living room with huge windows.
The girls dashed up the stairs, and Mackenzie's voice could be heard as she shouted about finding four bedrooms. Her mother
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barely heard. She was in the large kitchen, thinking that her dreams had come true. Never had they had a kitchen this spacious. She opened cupboards and almost reverently touched surfaces and walls.
"The backyard is small," Paul stated as he came back to find her.
"That's all right," she said softly, causing her husband to smile.
The sound of a truck interrupted anything Paul might have said. He glanced out the window and said, "I don't believe it."
"What is it?"
"The moving truck."
"Is it really?"
"Yeah," he said on a laugh and moved toward the door. The men were just climbing from the cab.
"Are we glad to see you."
Marrell didn't go out with him. She had dreaded all of this, but suddenly her heart was very light. She leaned on the counter, a small smile on her face. They were going to be all right. In fact, they were going to be more than all right. They were going to be great!
38
Three
Did you forget my birthday?" Mackenzie asked very suddenly.
For Marrell the world was in an upheaval of boxes and movers, but she made herself stop and pay attention to her daughter.
"No, I did not. I shopped for you in San Antonio and brought everything with me."
"It's next week."
"I know it is. Were you worried?"
"A little."
Marrell smiled down into her eyes. They were an unusual color-a little green with a hint of gray. Her brows were perfect slashes of black, and her lashes, though not overly long, were very thick. Her nose was straight and even, and Marrell suspected that her pretty mouth would tempt many a man by the time she was grown.
"Well, I planned to make spaghetti and chocolate cake. How does that sound?"
"Yummy." Mackenzie beamed at her.
"Now, my almost nine-year-old, I need you to unpack the box that was put in your room. It says 'Toys.' Put everything on the shelves."
"What if they're D.J.'s?"
"Then take them to her."
"Okay. What do I do after that?"
"Come back and check with me when you're finished."
"All right."
Marrell went back to the boxes in the kitchen. She knew that if she didn't find some sheets, the family would never get to bed
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that night, but she had this "thing" about having her kitchen settled. An Army wife learned early in the game not to keep the superfluous, but in her kitchen she sometimes made exceptions. Paul came in while she was trying to hang a measuring cup rack on the wall. He took over and had it done quickly.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. How is everything else going?"
"I think okay. Are the movers about done?" Her voice had lowered.
"Over halfway, I would guess. Why?"
"The blond guy keeps looking at my legs."
Paul's eyes dropped to the shapely length of leg that was exposed beneath her cutoffs and then back to her eyes. Marrell knew some men thought it very exciting when other men found their wives attractive. At the moment Mrs. Paul Bishop was never more happy that her husband wasn't one of them.
"I'll shut this door when I go out," Paul said, referring to the door that led out to the hallway at the front door.
"Thank you."
Only too happy to keep other men from ogling his wife, Paul kissed her cheek, exited, and shut the door. Marrell went back to work, only vaguely remembering that Mackenzie had never returned.
Had Marrell been able to see the daughter in question, she would have found her sitting on her unmade bed, just looking around the room. Mackenzie had put her toys on the shelf and even delivered Delancey's to her. Now she just wanted to sit looking at her room.Herroom.
Her eyes scanned the walls as she decided where she would put her posters. She had one of a kitten with a ball of string, another of a huge yellow smiley-face, an Army recruiting poster, and her favorite: a close-up poster of the Monkeys. Delancey had one of a smiling Davy Jones on his own, but Mackenzie liked everyone in the group.
In planning what she would do with the four posters, the fact that her mother wanted her back slid from her mind. There was so much space on all the walls, and over her bed seemed to be a perfect spot. Her eyes even went to the ceiling. In the middle of this contemplation, her father walked in.
"Hey, soldier, why isn't your bed made?"
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Mackenzie grinned at him. "I don't have sheets yet, Dad."
"I guess that's as good a reason as any." He sat down on her bed and looked around. "Your own room. Just what you wanted."
"D.J. has her own room too."
"Yes. I was just in there. She's still arranging her stuffed animals on her shelf. Why did you put your toys on only the bottom shelf?"
"Because the other shelves are for my books."
"Do you have that many books?"
"No, but I want those on before I move the animals up there."
Paul nodded. "Listen, I'm going to h
ead off to the commissary and scrounge up some grub for dinner. Do you want to come?"
"Yeah. Can D.J. too?"
"Sure, go ask her."
An outing with Dad.Thiswas a treat. Mackenzie found Delancey in the kitchen with her mother. The moving men had finally gone.
"Dad's going to get something for dinner. Do you want to come?"
"Yeah, sure. When are we going?"
"Right now. Are you coming, Mom?"
"No, honey. I'm going to stay here and try to put some more things away."
It wasn't an outrageous mess. They didn't have that much, but Marrell wanted the boxes cleared out and their contents put away. Paul had put all of their clothes in the closets and settled things in the dressers. That had been a great help, but the only one who knew how she wanted the kitchen was Marrell, who seemed only too happy to be left on her own to work.
"Can you get some Pepsi and ice, Paul?"
"Sure. What sounds good for dinner?"
"Chicken sounds wonderful. What do you think?"
"Chicken it is. Come on, girls."
"Are you going to get us set for breakfast too?"
"Yes. You can start a list for later, but I'll just get the essentials for tonight."
Marrell knew that the essentials would be doughnuts and chips, but she didn't care. There would be time enough later to shop for what they needed. She was thankful she had opted to
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put some canned goods, a box of rice, and bags of flour sugar in one of the boxes so they would have a little to fall 1 on. A concern about the prices in California ran past hermindbut she pushed it aside.
Stop it, Marrell,she said to herself.You have plenty to doout worrying over something you can't change.With that peptalk,she began to attack the boxes in the living room.
Hours later the beds were made, dinner was eaten, and Marrell had heard all about the spectacular view of the Golden Gate Bridge from the parking lot of the commissary. Paul had cleaned the kitchen, and Marrell felt free to collapse on the sofa. There was an open box next to her, and on the top was a photo album. Tired as she was, the thought of paging through it made her smile. She picked it up and started at the beginning. As if by magic, her family joined her. Delancey first, then Mackenzie and Paul.
"What is that?" Delancey wanted to know as she looked at one of the pictures. It was a beach scene.
"That is a lifeguard station. Some beaches have lifeguards, and in order to see the water, they sit up high to keep a lookout."
"Look at that," Mackenzie giggled, her finger on another photo. "There's a dog on your skirt, Mom."
Marrell laughed too. "That is a poodle skirt I wore just a few years ago. Your dad and I were going to a costume party."
"Where is that skirt?" Paul asked.
"I think it's in the box I sent to my grandma's when we moved to Texas."
"We could have seen it last Christmas." Mackenzie said, sounding disappointed.
"Well, maybe next time we go."
"When will we go again?"
"I don't know. We'll have to wait and see."
"Where did you get it?" Mackenzie seemed the most fascinated.
"I made it. Your dad's shirt too."
The girls peered at the picture again.
"Will you make one for me?" Mackenzie asked.
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"Me too?"
"Well, maybe I will. They would certainly make cute Halloween costumes."
The girls exchanged smiles. While they would not have thought of this, neither were they going to argue.
They paged through the rest of the photo album, and when they closed the cover, it seemed like a perfect end to the day. It had been a full one, so neither girl argued when told to ready for bed. Had the truth been told, they were rather excited-their first night in their own rooms. Both Marrell and Paul kissed them, and within moments they were asleep.
The elder Bishops were just as tired, and once they retired, sleep held them completely unaware of the way Delancey awoke, somewhere near midnight, and sought her sister.
"Micki," she said softly.
"Um ..."
"Micki, wake up."
"What?"
"I want to sleep with you."
"Um" was all Mackenzie could manage, but she still scooted toward the wall. Delancey climbed in, snuggled close, and was back asleep in just a matter of seconds. It was morning before Mackenzie would be awake enough to be indignant.
Paul's first day on the job gave him a headache. Army procedures were the same everywhere, but his job was new to him, and certain variations, as well as the basic need to learn new faces and names, made for a day of some stress. He worked two hours past his scheduled time, and by the time he arrived home, he was ready for quiet.
His daughters had other ideas. Map in hand, Marrell had taken the girls to see their new school building, for a walk across the Golden Gate Bridge, shopping on Pier 39, and for a visit to the Ghirardelli Square, where they had sundaes at the chocolate shop. Both small Bishops wanted to sit in their father's lap and tell him all about it. Paul was not overjoyed, but it was some time before the girls caught on to his closed eyes and still position.
"What's the matter?"
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"I'm tired."
"Come on, girls." Their mother had come in in time to hear Paul. "Head to your rooms for a little while."
The girls obeyed, but both looked a little hurt.
"As bad as all that?" Marrell confronted him, none too happy.
"I just have a headache."
"And they just wanted to tell you about their day."
The two stared at each other.
Marrell was the first to offer the olive branch. "Do you want something to eat?"
"Yes, please. The girls can come and talk to me when I'm done."
The evening improved on that note. There was a children's special on TV, and they all watched it before the girls were invited to climb on Paul's back and be carried off to bed. Paul even apologized to Marrell for his mood when he'd arrived home. Marrell was sensitive and asked him all about his day. She was very pleased that, bad day or not, he knew he was going to enjoy his new posting and even like his commanding officers. The evening ended with talk about Mackenzie's birthday. It was just three days away, and Marrell wanted it to be extra special. The plans were made before they slept, and Marrell had Paul's word that he would be home on time.
Mackenzie was speechless as she stared at the pink Jeep in the box. She had wanted a Barbie Jeep for as long as she could remember. And there was not only a Jeep, but two new Barbie outfits from the store and five more that her mother had made.
She finally found her voice and threw her arms around her parent. "Oh, Mom, thank you. I love it."
"Look at this one, Micki," Delancey spoke up, fingering a tiny pair of shorts and a top their mother had made. "It's the same color as the shorts she made us."
"Oh, Mom," Mackenzie said again when Delancey held up some shoes that the older girl hadn't seen the first time.
"Looks like you scored big," Paul said from across the room, his left eyelid dropping in a wink.
Marrell smiled, but she was thinking about the way she'd almost gone blind making some of those outfits. She wasn't sure she would try it again, but it had been fun.
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"Now is it time for cake?" Mackenzie asked.
"Yes," Marrell said indulgently. Her daughter's eyes had been like moons over the new things, but like a typical child, was ready to move on to the next event. Delancey was no different: While they were still eating their cake, she began to talk of her own birthday, which was just a month away. Marrell had to stifle a groan when she requested her own Barbie doll and homemade clothes as well. Marrell cleaned up the dishes, wondering if she'd created a monster.
The middle of July came and went, and as the month stretched on, Marrell thought of Sharon Elliott more and more. The thought of seeing her and being uncomfortable about her breakup with Marty was more than Marr
ell could stand, but on impulse and before she could change her mind, she wrote to her, explained their move to the Presidio, and even included her address and phone number. The call wasn't long in coming.
"Marrell, it's Shay."
"Oh, Shay!" Marrell felt as though she could cry. It had been years since she'd heard her friend's voice. "How are you?"
"I'm absolutely fabulous. I can't believe you're in San Francisco."
"Amazing, isn't it?" Marrell laughed. "When my grandmother told me you had moved here, I was stunned."
"When can I see you?" Shay asked, cutting right to the chase.
"Name a day."
"This weekend. Come to my place Sunday morning."
"All right."
"Your address is the Presidio-you must still be married to that handsome lieutenant."
"He's a lieutenant colonel now."
"Ooooh," Shay said with a laugh. "And you have two or three kids?"
"Two girls. Mackenzie and Delancey."
"Great names. How old are they?"
"Mackenzie was nine last month, and Delancey was eight on Monday."
"Bring them on Sunday."
"No," Marrell said in no uncertain terms. "You can meet them some other time. I want to catch up with you on my own."
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"All right. Let me give you directions to my place." Marrell found paper and a pencil with a chewed-off eraser and took down notes. She went over them again before ringing off, and after putting the phone down, reached for the map, her heart pounding in anticipation. In the midst of her excitement, she realized it had been weeks since she'd done something on her own. She had gotten together with friends before leaving San Antonio but hadn't really made any new friends here. She didn't know if Paul would be very excited about her leaving the family on a Sunday, but this was necessary.
Her daughters chose that moment to start shouting at each other. Marrell set her pencil down in order to look into it. She was calm enough on the outside, but inside her heart was vastly different.Don't even think about telling me I shouldn't see Shay on Sunday, Paul. I need a break from this house and the girls, even if I have to take the bus to get it.
Sharon Elliott's second-story apartment on Lombard Street was surprisingly easy to find, since Lombard Street was one of the streets that led directly into the Presidio. Marrell arrived right on time and was able to park without mishap, but her heart beat a little too swiftly as she rang the doorbell. She need not have worried. Shay looked older, but she was still the same-a bit zany in her dress and hairstyle but still lovely and warm.