As Time Goes By

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As Time Goes By Page 4

by Lori Wick


  “Mom, try to stop,” Bobbie pleaded.

  “Come and sit down, Mary.” Jake led his wife to the sofa and sat on one side of her. Bobbie quickly retrieved her bags from the porch and closed the front door. Not noticing that the house looked wonderful, her attention was centered wholly on her distraught mother.

  “I’m sorry, Mom, I shouldn’t have surprised you,” Bobbie said as she sat on the sofa next to her mother. The words were like cold water in the face of the distressed woman.

  “Oh Bobbie, no,” she choked out. “I’m just so glad to see you and it’s been so long.” She cried some more but was finally gaining some control. Bobbie glanced over to see her father grinning at her. She smiled back.

  “Welcome home.”

  “Thanks.” Bobbie’s smile nearly stretched off her face.

  “Stand up and let me look at you.” Bobbie complied and stood quietly for his inspection.

  “Have I changed?” Bobbie asked the question with exaggerated innocence and her father chuckled.

  “You’re not much taller but there’s definitely more to you.” Jake Bradford’s eyes sparkled and it was Bobbie’s turn to chuckle.

  “Well, I got my wish and finally developed in the front but the Lord was overly generous in the back.” Bobbie’s voice was dry.

  Jake laughed in earnest then. The Bradford women were notorious for having smaller bustlines and larger posteriors.

  “Don’t you fret, Bobbie. You’ve got a nice figure, just like your mother’s, and she’s got a great—”

  “Jacob!” Maryanne spoke sharply, and both husband and daughter laughed. Maryanne patted the sofa and Bobbie sat on the edge, turning to face her mother, who lay back against the cushions.

  “Look at you,” she breathed as she gazed into her daughter’s face. “Why didn’t we ever think to cut your hair? Just look at those dark blonde curls,” Maryanne said with a small shake of her head. Bobbie only shrugged and smiled.

  In truth her hair was darling, cut short all around her head and so curly. It was a natural curl that simply hadn’t had a chance against the weight of Bobbie’s previous longer style. The frames on Bobbie’s glasses were a little different now, but other than the hair and glasses, she was very much the same. Her mouth still smiled just as easily and her eyes were still a beautiful deep green.

  “Where’s Troy?” Bobbie asked quickly when it looked as though her mother would cry again.

  “On a date.”

  Bobbie’s parents took great delight over the way their daughter’s mouth dropped open.

  “A date?”

  “That’s right. He’ll be home pretty soon.”

  “Why didn’t anyone mention this in their letters?”

  “It just happened,” Jake informed her with a smile.

  Bobbie had a thousand questions then, and before her parents could answer them all, Troy walked in. He was a good six inches taller than she was and even had a mustache. Bobbie could only stare at her 18-year-old brother. Troy stared back.

  “Hi, Bobbie,” the young man finally said, his voice as deep as Jake’s.

  “Hi, brat,” Bobbie said fondly. Another moment passed and then Troy grabbed her and squeezed her tight. They laughed and talked nonstop for the next hour before Bobbie told her family she was going to be too tired to walk the stairs if she didn’t go to bed.

  “Have you told her about our plans for the weekend?” Troy said softly as his sister started out of the room.

  “No,” Jake said when he was sure she couldn’t hear. “I thought I’d surprise her over breakfast.”

  The three remaining in the living room shared a conspiratorial grin and then sat in silence and listened to the floor creak above them as Bobbie readied for bed. Maryanne couldn’t remember when anything sounded so sweet.

  seven

  “It’s about time you got up.” Bobbie was greeted by her brother’s voice and she smiled sleepily at him.

  “I’d forgotten how soft that bed was,” Bobbie commented as she poured herself a cup of coffee and joined him at the kitchen table. “Where is everyone?”

  “Dad’s working and Mom ran uptown. She thought you might want to go but decided to let you sleep.”

  Bobbie moved from the table and began to fix herself some breakfast. She had eggs in the pan when she asked Troy a question that had been on her mind since last night.

  “So tell me, Troy, how long have you been seeing Carla Johnson?”

  “Yesterday was the third time.”

  “Where do you and Carla usually go?”

  “Last night her folks asked me to supper and then we played a game. The times before that we just went for a walk.”

  Bobbie grinned and they continued to talk. There wasn’t really much catching up to do, since they had all kept as close as the mail would allow.

  “Did Cleve see you off?” Troy asked.

  “No, just Uncle Jasper and Aunt Joanne. I’m kind of glad he didn’t.”

  “You’re not sure, are you? I mean, nothing is definite?”

  “No, it’s not. Cleveland is a wonderful man and we care for each other, but marriage is such a big step. I hate the idea of living away from Santa Rosa the rest of my life. Now tell me something, Troy—if I desperately wanted to marry Cleve, would it matter to me where I lived?”

  Troy’s brows rose. “I see your point.”

  As they discussed the matter Bobbie suddenly noticed a pair of her brother’s jeans lying on the table next to the newspaper.

  “I take it these need mending.”

  “They might after you put them on.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Bobbie’s voice was indignant.

  “Only that you probably won’t fit as easily into my jeans as you once did for our camping trips.”

  “We’re going camping?” Bobbie whispered, her voice and face radiating excitement.

  “That’s the plan.” Troy answered her calmly, but inside he was as excited as his sister.

  “When do we leave?”

  “Since you don’t have to be to work until Monday, we’ll head out Friday afternoon and come back sometime Sunday.”

  Bobbie wanted to jump around the kitchen like a kid out of school. How she had missed the camping trips with her dad and brother! They continued to discuss the camping trip and then Troy said he had to leave for work.

  Enjoying the feel of home once again, Bobbie stayed at the kitchen table for a long time. Her thoughts wandered and then centered on her family, primarily her sister Alice.

  Alice had been pregnant when Bobbie left for Jenner and surprised everyone with twins. The twins had just turned five and Bobbie had never seen them, something she planned on changing that very afternoon.

  Maryanne came in a short time later, and mother and daughter sat over coffee and talked like old friends.

  “How is your Aunt Joanne?”

  “When I left she was crying but she’s doing well. I know she hopes I’ll be back before the summer is out, as Mrs. Cleveland Ramsey.”

  “And what do you hope?” Maryanne inquired of her daughter.

  “That Cleve will suddenly want to move to Santa Rosa.”

  “That would make him the perfect husband?”

  “Not perfect, I guess, but certainly more appealing. And like I said to Troy, if I was wild to marry Cleve, would it matter where we lived?”

  “You might find that you feel differently in a few months, honey; you might find you don’t really want to stay in Santa Rosa after all.” Bobbie stared at her mother in surprise.

  “Don’t get me wrong, Bobbie,” she explained. “I wish we could live out the rest of our lives living only a few blocks from each other, but I must face facts. Santa Rosa has changed in five years, and so have you. And you might miss Cleve so much that the miles between us won’t seem near so important. As hard as it would be to see you go, I would understand. I feel God has been preparing me for something just like this for a long time.”

  “Oh Mom,” Bobb
ie spoke as she hugged her. “I missed you so much.”

  Maryanne couldn’t stop the tears as her own arms surrounded her daughter. They were probably closer through letters than they might have been if Bobbie had lived at home during her transitional teenage years, but it didn’t stop the ache. It didn’t ease the longing of wanting to touch and hug each other for all those years and not be able. Who would have thought five years would pass?

  “Look at us,” Bobbie said as she wiped her streaming face. “We really have got to stop getting each other wet. Now,” Bobbie continued with determination, “I want to go see Alice and the kids. Do you want to come?”

  “Sure. I just have a few things to do and then we can start. Do you need to stop at the shipping office?”

  “No. When I wrote back to Mr. Taylor and accepted the job, he said that unless he heard otherwise he’d plan on my starting work the morning of the eighth.”

  “Good enough.” Maryanne moved from the table to do a few things, and a half-hour later the women were headed to the other side of town. They had a mile walk ahead of them to the Townsend residence.

  Alice Bradford had married Stuart Townsend the summer after she finished school. He was four years older and she had met him when attending a party on the far side of Santa Rosa. For Stuart, seeing Alice was love at first sight.

  Alice was very shy, even where her family was concerned, and had been slightly overwhelmed by the attention of this stranger. She was not yet done with school, and she knew Stuart to be a man with his own room in one of the boarding houses and a steady job at the bank. Stuart was relentless, however, and by the time Alice completed her final year he had won her heart.

  Stuart adored his wife and was crazy about his children. In fact he was so tender that he had insisted that Alice go to visit Bobbie when she had been gone for over two years. Maryanne had wanted to go in the worst way, but both of the ladies she cleaned for had planned parties and would not have been prepared to let her off for several weeks.

  Maryanne and Bobbie walked the distance in companionable conversation. They were both dressed warmly, since January in Santa Rosa is usually rainy and quite cool, enough to chill a person to the bone if not dressed appropriately.

  Alice’s home was a welcome sight at the end of their journey, and the sisters embraced for long moments. Alice was much the same, and even though she was not talkative, her expression told her sister how glad she was to have her back.

  They settled in the kitchen and Alice set mugs of coffee in front of her sister and mother. A moment later Paige and Wesley entered the room. They stood shyly near their mother at the stove as they greeted their grandmother, and then, seeing their Aunt Bobbie for the first time, they stared in wide-eyed silence.

  “Hello,” Bobbie said softly, and told herself she was not going to cry. Paige and Wesley Townsend were adorable. They were both blonde and freckled and their eyes were the exact shade of green as her own. Alice had dressed them warmly and in matching outfits. Wesley’s pants were the same material as Paige’s jumper, a heavy brown corduroy, and their shirts, a brown-and-red plaid, also matched.

  Alice had been dressing them alike since the day they were born. Once, when the twins were four, she had mentioned buying fabrics that were different. The twins reacted with such vehement protests to this suggestion that Alice had dropped the whole idea.

  Bobbie knew how easy it would be to overreact and throw her arms around these dear children, to whom she was an absolute stranger. They, on the other hand, were as familiar to her as they could be. Everyone, Troy included, had something to say about them in every letter—not to mention Alice’s letters, in which she talked about little else.

  The five-year-olds watched Bobbie reach for her bag. She brought forth a pair of blue mittens and a pair of red. Next she drew out an orange stick of candy which joined the blue mittens and a red stick to go with the other pair. And finally a red ribbon joined the pile of red items, all intended for Paige. A whistle carved from wood was set next to the blue mittens and orange candy, which were to go to Wesley.

  “These are for you, Paige,” Bobbie said as she pushed the red pile a little closer to the edge of the table. “And these,” Bobbie said as she repeated the movement with the other things, “are for you, Wes.”

  “What do you say to your Aunt Bobbie?” Alice asked softly.

  “Thank you, Aunt Bobbie,” the children chorused in voices equally as soft. Bobbie’s eyes filled with tears and she busied herself with her coffee to hide the fact.

  The children came forward and stood next to their gifts. Bobbie, so wanting to get off to a good start with these little ones, did not immediately look at them. When she did, she found them both grinning at her. Bobbie smiled back with such delight that they both began to talk at once.

  Within ten minutes Paige was in her lap and Wesley was sitting with his grandmother. It never once occurred to Bobbie that her family would talk to these children about her. Why, they knew everything!

  “What do you look like without your glasses?” Wes wanted to know. Bobbie removed her spectacles and awaited their inspection.

  “She looks the same,” Paige stated calmly—“real pretty.”

  Bobbie hugged the little girl to herself and was surprised a moment later when Alice asked what they wanted for lunch. She couldn’t believe how the morning had flown.

  When Maryanne and Bobbie finally left, Bobbie was buoyant. She couldn’t stop talking about her wonderful niece and nephew.

  “Oh Mom, I’ve just had a terrific idea. Do you suppose Dad would let Paige and Wes go camping with us?”

  “Oh Bobbie, I don’t know.”

  “Well, I could at least ask. I mean, it’s three adults and only two children; we outnumber them and I can tell what good kids they are.”

  “Oh Bob, I don’t know,” Maryanne repeated, and her daughter laughed.

  “You’re such a worrier, Mom. I’m sure Dad will say yes, not to mention Troy. He’ll love the idea.”

  Maryanne didn’t look the least bit convinced, but kept silent. This was one she was more than willing to let Jake handle.

  eight

  “I know Alice will say yes if you talk to her, Dad. Tell her they can sleep with me. You know how warm we’ll all be.”

  Jake Bradford regarded his daughter and tried not to laugh. She was 14 all over again as they discussed the camping trip. She had nearly leaped on him and Troy when they came in the front door for supper with her idea of taking Paige and Wesley with them.

  Troy and Jake had exchanged a quick look; they had honestly never considered it. They also thought it was a great idea, but they weren’t about to let Bobbie know that, at least not yet.

  “They’re pretty young, Bobbie,” Troy said skeptically, his eyes just beginning to sparkle.

  “We were younger the first time Dad took us,” Bobbie pointed out logically, and for the first time noticed that her family was enjoying this.

  “Well, maybe you’re right,” Bobbie went on with a show of disappointment that could have convinced an audience at any theater. “They are young and I’ve heard that neither one of you has the least bit of control where Wes and Paige are concerned. So I guess it’s for the best.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Troy demanded.

  “Only that you take a toy every time you go see them and are spoiling them rotten. And I’ve heard that Dad can’t bring himself to say no, so they get away with everything when they’re with him.”

  Bobbie might have gotten away with her bald-faced lies if she hadn’t dropped in a chair just then and begun filing her nails with far more deliberation than necessary. She was a study in concentration until Troy sailed a sofa pillow across the room and hit her in the head. Bobbie whipped it back at lightning speed, catching her brother totally off-guard.

  Smiling with satisfaction, Bobbie growled in her gruffest voice, “Now, do my niece and nephew go with us or do I have to get rough with you?”

  “They can
come, they can come!” Troy cried in mock terror.

  “You still have to ask Alice,” Jake reminded Bobbie.

  “I thought you might ask her. She’s always been putty in your hands.”

  Jake smiled at the description. It was true. He had always been close to his oldest daughter, even though she was painfully shy. She was more open with him than she was with Maryanne or her siblings, and Jake had always nurtured their relationship. The only thing to ever come between them was Jake’s decision for Christ. Alice had been very hurt when her father had explained how he had come to see his need for salvation.

  “But what have you been up until now, Dad, if you haven’t been a Christian?” Alice had asked.

  “I’ve been someone who thought I could get to heaven if I did my best and watched my step. I was leaving Jesus Christ completely out of the picture.”

  “So what you’re saying is, if a person is good, it still won’t be enough?”

  “That’s right, honey, the Bible says we get to heaven God’s way, and that’s through the death of His Son, Jesus Christ, who died to take away our sins.”

  “That’s barbaric! I can’t believe God would spurn our efforts just because we didn’t choose to believe something so awful as Christ’s death on the cross! I’ve read the Bible’s account of the crucifixion, and, Dad, you can’t tell me that God would honor such a horrendous act against His own Son!”

  Jake had gone on to explain the best he could but Alice would have none of it. They had parted on good terms, but Jake’s heart had been heavy. He found himself wishing they had attended Pastor Keller’s church years before, when Alice had been younger and possibly more receptive to the gospel.

  Today father and daughter were as close as ever, but Jake knew he had to tread lightly when the conversation turned to church attendance and salvation. Alice had made it quite clear that she thought her parents attended a church full of snobs who had the ridiculous notion that they knew the only way to heaven.

 

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