Lonely Souls

by Rosemary Fifield

  “Mrs. Penfield?”

  “No, it’s Dawson. Ma’s asleep on the couch. Can I do something for you?”

  She quickly shook her head and turned away, showng him only her auburn curls glistening with gold highlights in the lamplight. “No. Thank you.”

  “Do you mind if I talk to you from the doorway?”

  “What do you want?”

  “Cassie was here a few minutes ago. She said to tell you she’d be back tomorrow. She was too tired to stay very long.”

  Shelby nodded. “Thanks.”

  Dawson paused for a moment, watching her. She kept her face turned from him. “Are you hungry? I was just going to have a piece of apple pie. Do you want some?”

  “No. Thanks.”

  Dawson drew a deep breath. “Can I come in and talk to you for a minute?”

  “No. Please go away.”

  “Shelby, are you afraid of me or what?”

  Her shoulders rose and fell as she let out a loud sigh.“I want you to leave me alone.”

  “You know I would never hurt you, don’t you? I love you.” He said this last softly; they were words he had never spoken before. They came out as more of a plea than a statement, for his heart was aching as he watched her. She had drawn the covers up over her chest, even though she was wearing a high-necked flannel gown, and her face was still turned away. “Did you hear me? I love you, Shelby.”

  Her shoulders rose in another sigh and her voice was barely audible. “I heard you.”

  “I don’t expect you to love me back. I know you don’t even know me, but …”

  Her head turned toward the sound of his voice and her face was fierce. “Dawson, I don’t even know where the hell I am! I don’t even know how I got here! All I know is, everything is strange! It smells strange, it sounds strange, I can’t see any of it or you or anybody and I’m scared stiff!”

  “Shelby …”

  Her eyes grew wide. “Don’t you come in here!”

  “I’m not! I’m not. But Shelby, you’re not the only one who’s scared.” Dawson softened his voice once more. “I’m afraid you’ll leave and go away for good and never give me a chance.”

  “I don’t want to give you a chance! Don’t you understand?” Her voice was starting to rise hysterically. “I don’t know you! I don’t know anyone here! I just want to go home! I want to be with my parents! My parents are the people who really care about me!”

  “I care about you, Shelby. More than you can ever know …”

  “Sonny!” Dawson turned around to see his mother pushing herself up to a sitting position on the couch behind him, her hair tousled from her nap, her face scrunched in a frown. “You know what I said!”

  “I know, Ma.” He backed away from Shelby’s door with his hands in the air like a criminal caught red-handed. “We were just talking.”

  “I promised her.”

  “I got it.” He turned on his heel without looking back at Shelby and stormed into the kitchen. The apple pie and milk were still sitting on the table. He took them both with him and retreated to the barn.

  Grant straddled the small bench where he and Larry sat while filling their syrup containers and opened the faucet at the base of the upright stainless steel tank before him. Clear amber syrup, still hot enough to steam, trickled out and into the beige plastic quart container he held. He peered into the neck of the little jug, slowing the flow as the liquid neared the top. Behind him, Larry was letting cold sap flood the pans to cool down the boiling while the last of the ashes glowed within the arch. It was almost one in the morning, and both of them were exhausted.

  Marcia Boardman lit a cigarette and flipped the match through the open doors of the arch. She returned to where Grant sat hunched over his work and settled down on an overturned sap bucket nearby.

  “She’s very confused right now, Grant, but I think she really needs you.”

  Grant kept his eyes on the task at hand. If he overfilled the jugs he would burn his hand and waste syrup. If he underfilled them, he would not be selling syrup in the marketplace for long. “She knows where to find me.”

  “She’s really strung out right now, what with her dad and all. And she’s upset about Shelby and blaming herself for not telling anyone about Blake. She doesn’t sleep, and she doesn’t eat.”

  Grant screwed the top onto the jug, then turned to look at her. “Marcia, every time she thinks she’s got a chance with Sonny, she tries to go back to him. Or else she’s after Shane. Don’t you think I get a little tired of being a last resort?” He picked up another empty quart and held it under the faucet.

  Marcia blew a stream of smoke into the air above her head and glanced in Larry’s direction. “I’m going to be home alone tonight,” she said softly.

  “I’m going to bed,” Grant answered.

  “That’s exactly what I’m talking about, honeycakes. I’ve missed you.”

  “Marcia, you blow my mind. And don’t,” he looked up at her and grinned immediately, “don’t say anything crude.”

  “Grant, you are so cute.”

  “How can you sit here promoting Cassie one minute and invite me into your bed the next?”

  Marcia shrugged. “Hey, she can’t have sex during this last month anyway. And you look like a man who needs some lovin’.”

  “I’m a man who needs some sleep. Shit, there’s not enough in here to fill this. I should have done a pint.” Grant stood up to peer in the top of the tall tank.

  Marcia looked him up and down. Tramping through the woods had tightened his ass and thighs, while all the lifting and carrying as well as hand-drilling had added muscle to his shoulders and chest. He had shaved his beard, revealing his strong square jaw, and he looked good. Marcia’s interest in him was more than humanitarian. “Sorry if I distracted you. Look, I don’t usually make house calls, but …”

  Grant laughed. “No offense, Marcia, but I don’t think I’ve got the energy.” He poured the syrup back into the tank and put on the lid.

  Marcia gave him an exaggerated pout. “It’s not often I have to beg.”

  Grant turned to smile at her. “I’m flattered. Really. But I need a shower and as many hours of sleep as I can get. Maybe next week, if things slow down.”

  “Teddy comes home tomorrow,” she said, blowing smoke through her nose. She dropped the cigarette on the concrete floor and ground it out with the pointed toe of her high-heeled boot. “He leaves again on Monday for a week. In the meantime, would you at least give Cassie a call?”

  “Yes, Ms. Landers, I will,” Grant said. “Thanks for coming by.”

  “It was a struggle.” She stood up and slipped her arms into her puffy black and teal ski jacket. “Personally, I think you gentlemen should pave the road down here for us ladies. Don’t you think so, Larry?”

  Larry gave her an amused glance. “No way. Too many ladies, and we’d have to hide our Hustlers and watch our language.”

  “I know. I’m really offended. You boys are such animals.” She winked at Grant and gave Larry her widest smile. “I hope I don’t break my neck going up this hill.”

  “Mud’s soft,” Larry said. “Just don’t fall into the spring. It’s starting to fill up.”

  Grant watched her leave, then grinned at Larry. Neither said a word, and Grant wondered if Larry went to see her too. He couldn’t imagine Larry leaving Suzanne to go to Marcia. Still, things Larry had said recently kept Grant from ruling it out. He wondered if his relationship with Corey would have cooled to that point after seven years of marriage? He found it hard to believe, yet he knew it happened all the time. A sigh of frustration escaped him. Male-female relationships were such a pain in the ass.

  They shook down the last of the ashes and closed the cast iron doors of the arch, then closed up the sugarhouse and started walking up the hill. The taillights of Marcia’s car were disappearing down the road when the two men reached Grant’s cabin.

  “What a rig she is,” Larry said, shaking his head.

  �
�She wants me to go hold Cassie’s hand while she figures out which end is up,” Grant said in a rare moment of confidentiality. “What would you do?”

  “Don’t ask me, man. I’ve been out of that scene too long. I will tell you one thing, though. Corey and Allen have not been getting along. They’ve been telling everyone Alison’s sick and that’s why they haven’t been getting around much, but the truth is, they’ve been living apart since just after New Year’s. Corey’s pretty shook up about it and doesn’t want anyone to know.”

  Grant was too tired to fully appreciate what Larry was telling him. “That’s too bad,” he yawned and headed into the cabin.

  Shelby felt much better by Monday morning, and delighted Miriam by saying she wanted to get dressed and have her breakfast at the kitchen table. Dawson had already eaten and was working in the barn. The two women sat down to coffee and blueberry muffins and talked. Miriam was more articulate than Shelby had expected, the older woman’s minimalist Vermont speech patterns loosening somewhat as they came to know one another a little better. Miriam was an avid reader, as was Dawson, something that surprised Shelby and made her realize how misinformed she really was about the people around her. The two women talked about books they had recently read, as well as their favorite genre. Miriam’s interests ran to historical novels and autobiographies; her favorite book was A Tale of Two cities. Shelby loved Thomas Hardy novels in particular, her favorite being Tess of the d’Ubervilles. Shelby told Miriam what Irene McIan had said about the historical value of the Penfield house, and Miriam described to her the arrangement of rooms and the original narrow stairwell to the second floor located behind what most people took to be a closet door in the kitchen. When she mentioned where she was sleeping on the second floor, Shelby reiterated her intent to move out in a few days.

  “You don’t need to be in a hurry to leave. I enjoy having you here,” Miriam said. Her hand, unnaturally warm from holding a cup of tea, closed over Shelby’s.

  Shelby smiled. “I know you do, and I can’t thank you enough for taking care of me. But I can’t stay forever.”

  “It’s too soon for you to leave.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re not ready to be alone in that house. I would be afraid for you.”

  “I won’t be alone. Shane will be there. And Cassie will be back. And in a few days, I’ll be back to normal. The soreness is almost gone now.”

  “The soreness is not what I’m worried about.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Do you love Shane?” Miriam asked.

  Shelby felt herself blush. “Yes.”

  “Does he love you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why aren’t you married?”

  Shelby paused, wondering what the woman already knew about Shane. “We’ve never seen any reason to get married. I can’t have children. We’re happy the way we are. It doesn’t hurt anyone.”

  “You believe marriage is only important if there are children?”

  “I think it’s necessary if there are children. For their sake. But even then, it doesn’t guarantee anything.”

  “I suppose not. How was your first marriage?”

  “It was fine. But we were only married three years.”

  “You expect it would have gone bad?”

  Shelby shrugged her shoulders. “Not necessarily. But I know more now about what happens after a few years. I’ve seen marriages collapse that I thought were happy.”

  “And some endure no matter what,” Miriam said softly.

  “Did you love your husband up to the end? Truly?”

  “Yes.”

  “How could you? I mean, I know Sonny’s story. I never would have stood for that.”

  “There are reasons for everything. When you have five children, you don’t walk out on their father. Not that I didn’t want to many times. Sonny’s mother wasn’t the first or the last.”

  “I’m afraid I wouldn’t have let him get away with it. I’d feel like he was making a fool of me.”

  “Well,” Miriam said slowly, “when that little Abenaki baby was handed to me as Nate’s child, I did walk out. I took my children and I went to my parents’ house and I told them I was leaving Nate. And my mother said to me, ‘Miriam, there are two kinds of pride. One kind says “I’m not going to let you make a fool of me in front of everyone so I’m leaving.” And the other kind says, “I’m a better person than you are, and I am going to show you and everyone else that nothing you do can rob me of my dignity.” Now, which one is it going to be?’

  “Well, at first, I said I was too hurt and embarrassed to stay with him and raise his bastard. But after a couple days, I was just plain mad. And I thought, ‘I’m not giving up everything I’ve worked for for sixteen years, and I’m not moving back in with my parents like a child,’ which I’m sure was a great relief to them. They never said so, but what a terrible thing that would have been for them to adjust to!”

  Shelby could hear the smile in her voice.

  “So I came home, and the baby was crying and all messed and Nate had some woman taking care of him and I kicked her out and took over, and I’ve been here ever since. And you know, the funny thing is, Sonny’s the one who’s turned out most like me. Maybe because he was the last, and I had more time. I don’t know. But if it wasn’t for him, I’d be alone now. He makes up for what … my other son has become. I guess maybe Sonny’s real mother was the better of the two of us.”

  Her closing sentence took Shelby by surprise. “You’re Sonny’s real mother,” she answered. “She didn’t influence his behavior or his attitudes or his values. She gave him certain physical characteristics, but you shaped his personality.”

  “Then why didn’t I shape Blake’s? Why are they so different if I raised them both? No, there’s more to it than that.”

  “Sure there is. The difference was in their own experiences away from you. Sonny was the victim of a lot of prejudice, and he suffered the effects of his father’s behavior. Blake probably saw his father’s behavior as something that seemed to benefit him and never really cost him much.”

  “So, maybe I made a mistake staying with Nate.”

  “I don’t think so. Your reasons make sense. And I know a lot of people respect you for it.”

  “Maybe. And some just think I was too weak to do anything on my own. But over the years, I’ve learned it doesn’t really matter much what people think.”

  “What would you do if you had it to do over again?”

  Miriam sighed. “I’d like to say I’d do the same thing. Certainly for Sonny’s sake, I would. But I really don’t know. I see you young women making lives for yourselves the way you want them to be, and I wish I could do it again.”

  “Really? What would you do?”

  “Go to school. Be a nurse. Earn my own money. Let Nate run the farm and tell him how things were going to be if he didn’t shape up. Have fewer kids. Not let Billy go to Vietnam without a fight.”

  Shelby smiled. “I guess you did love Nate up to the end, if he’d still be part of your plans.”

  “He wasn’t a bad man. He was gruff sometimes and hard on the boys. He took it easier on the girls, but I think it was because he was afraid of them. He didn’t understand the girls much. So he just stayed away from them more than anything. I think maybe women scared him, too, and that’s why he acted the way he did with them.”

  “He needed to dominate them?” Shelby’s mind drifted back to Blake and all she had ever learned about the rapist mentality. How it wasn’t sex the rapist was after, but dominance over the woman. And as a rich woman and an employer, she must have represented a control over Blake that he resented. A resentment that won over his better judgment when he was drunk.

  “I don’t know if he needed to dominate them or just use them,” Miriam said thoughtfully. “Or maybe he was just a horny bastard who couldn’t control himself.”

  Shelby did not know whether to laugh or not, for she could not see Miriam’s face
nor could she judge from the woman’s voice if she meant to be amusing.

  “Have another muffin.”

  “No, thank you. They were great, but I’m really full,” Shelby smiled. “You know, I want to help you around the house, Mrs. Penfield. I can wash dishes and fold laundry and do other stuff. I’ll go crazy if I don’t do things.”

  “Well, I’m sure we can find things to keep you busy. You might enjoy going out to the barn, too. There are some new kittens out there.”

  Shelby felt herself shutting down at the mention of the barn. The barn was a potentially dangerous place, secluded and unfamiliar, full of things she couldn’t see or anticipate. It had places where someone could grab you and drag you and no one would even know. She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”