As they passed the band shell, David recalled the times, many years ago, he and Anna had come to the park to listen to the orchestra—really the only thing they had done outside the store. On those days, they would walk through the park for hours and, after the music ended, stroll to the edge of the water, following it to the tiny shop in the boathouse to buy an ice cream. “Yes, it must have been over there,” he mused, pointing with the hand holding the cigar. Visions of him and Anna walking hand in hand materialized beyond the curling cigar smoke.
Since Anna’s death he had appreciated each day the Lord granted him more and more. When she had first died, he wished wholeheartedly for the Lord to take him too, but then he realized it was a privilege and an honour to spend another day serving his Maker.
Each moment, each breath must be acknowledged and used with thanks and purpose. The Lord had chosen his beloved wife to go home first. There was a reason the Lord was giving him a longer time under the earthly sun. There was work to do. Confessions to hear, babies to baptize, hearts to heal, lives to touch and sinners to save. Soon enough the night would come and his Maker would take his hand as He had Anna’s and say, “Come, it is time to go home. You have served well.” He could see his Anna too, waiting, smiling, her hand reaching out towards him. “Come, David, and rest with me awhile.”
Every now and then David noticed Douglas peering at him through the rear-view mirror, catching him reminiscing. He liked Douglas; he seemed like a good man.
The limousine was wonderful, but it was too spacious. Too empty. He missed his Anna deeply, ached to have her by his side, to share the joy of this day. To reap the rewards of their labour. To hold her hand. To tell her how much he loved her. David’s eyes watered as he gazed out at the lake.
Unbidden tears spilled over, making rivulets in the weary lines of his face. By the time he had wiped them away, the lake was no longer there. They had gone through the park and were heading back towards the store.
“How quickly a holiday is over,” David muttered.
“Would you care to go back through again, Mr. Engelmann?”
“No, that is fine, thank you.”
As the car picked up speed, so too did the lazy fall breeze wafting through the open window, messing Mr. Engelmann’s grey-white hair and swirling the smoke from his cigar. Mr. Engelmann felt like an eccentric tycoon as he sat there, legs crossed and fully extended, puffing away on a Cuban cigar. His shirt was clean but wrinkled like a crushed paper bag. Fortunately at least half the creases were hidden by his very comfortable, well-used vest. It all spoke of a man with a spirit rebellious of conventional approval. What you see is what you get.
“So this is what it feels like to be a millionaire,” David quipped in an effort to cheer himself up. Douglas smiled at him in the rear-view mirror.
“You know, Douglas, I could really get to enjoying this.”
Douglas nodded. His smile broadened.
By the time they reached the store, David had finished the cigar. Douglas jumped out and opened the door for him. David’s brief escapade in the world of high finance and business, however enjoyable, was over.
“Thank you so much, Douglas. I liked that immensely.”
“I’m glad you did, sir.”
“Please, wait here a moment, Douglas, I wish to give you something.”
“Certainly, Mr. Engelmann, but I assure you it’s completely unnecessary.”
“Just wait here.”
Minutes later, David returned.
“Here, Douglas,” David said, handing him a package. “This is the best salami in the city. I have it specially smoked.”
“Why, thank you, Mr. Engelmann! I look forward to having it this evening at dinner.”
“You’re welcome, Douglas. And oh, by the way, here is something else.” David reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the second Cuban cigar. “Here, you better have this. Giving in once to temptation is more than enough. I’ve been spoiled amply for today.”
The two men looked at each other. They were not millionaires; they were ordinary, average working people with just enough to get by. Each knew it wasn’t money or a big car which made them important, but their unique character and desire to serve their fellow man.
It was this sense of each other that prompted each of them to extend a hand, carrying with the gesture a sincere mutual respect and understanding. Not another word was spoken, just a nod, and they both felt in that very short encounter a silent friendship had emerged.
Around two o’clock the following afternoon, the phone rang.
“Engelmann’s Grocery, how can I help you? Yes, this is he.”
“Johnny Balfour, here, Mr. Engelmann, still remember me?”
“Yes, yes, of course, you did such a wonderful job for me at your office yesterday.”
“It was my pleasure. Well, I just got a call from Mr. Webster…”
“Yes, yes, go on.”
“They have accepted your price and all of your conditions. Congratulations, Mr. Engelmann.”
“They are willing to pay $75,000?”
“That’s right.”
“This is unbelievable. I was sure they would come back with a lower price.”
“I thought they would counter-offer, too,” Mr. Balfour replied. “I guess they just wanted to get rid of you and were concerned you might change your mind or sell it to another buyer who might continue on with your business.”
“This is unbelievable!” Mr. Engelmann exclaimed again. If only my Anna were alive. “How can I ever thank you for all you have done?”
“The pleasure is all mine. We’ll look after the details and get back to you shortly. I’ll send Douglas over with the papers for you to sign. Congratulations again. Goodbye, Mr. Engelmann.”
David stared off into space as the dial tone replaced Mr. Balfour’s voice. He was too stunned to move.
“Are you okay?” Mary asked, emerging from the storage room. She grabbed his arm and shook it. “David! Are you all right?”
Mr. Engelmann blinked and shook his head. “I just sold my store, Mary.”
“What!” shrieked Mary. “What do you mean?”
“Safeway bought my store and paid a fortune for it. I cannot believe it. Please, come. I have to sit down. Get me a root beer and have a drink, too. Let us sit in the storage room for a few minutes. Have I got a story to tell you.”
After Mr. Engelmann told Mary what had happened, she couldn’t sit still. In fact, she jumped up and danced around the storage room. Then she grabbed him off his perch atop a box and danced him around too.
When Mrs. Schmidt came up from the basement and saw the two of them jumping around like two school kids playing Ring Around the Rosy, she shook her head and muttered, “They’ve lost their marbles.”
The following Sunday evening, Mr. Engelmann repeated the story for Henry and Bill over dessert. By that time he had told several people, embellishing it a little each time.
Overnight, everything seemed to have fallen into place.
“This has been a very busy week for me,” David said as the clock in the living room chimed seven, “and I am all tired out.”
“Yeah, it must be tough closing million-dollar deals and having a chauffeur drive you around all day,” Henry teased.
Mr. Engelmann turned to Henry with a grin and shook a finger at him. “Never fear, your turn will come, Henry.”
He and his parents walked Mr. Engelmann to the door.
“This has been quite a week for you, David, a very successful one,” said Mary. “You solved two problems that usually take months and even years to sort out.”
“I’m glad you sold the store, but I sure am going to miss it,” Henry said. “I really enjoy working there.”
“Well, Henry, someday I know you will be a highly successful businessman. You have a natural talent for it. Well, good n
ight, Mary, Bill. Thank you for the wonderful dinner.”
“You’re welcome, David,” Mary replied, kissing his cheek.
He shook Bill’s hand and accepted Henry’s hug then headed toward the store and home.
Chapter Twenty-One
The week leading up to the Halloween dance flew by and kept Henry so busy that he hardly had time to work at the store. He’d decided on a Lone Ranger costume for the dance. He borrowed his dad’s western shirt and old black hat, which his mother lined with masking tape until it fit just right then steamed it and reshaped it into more of a western look. Henry found a couple of old pistols he used to play with, but they had to enlarge the holster belt by several notches. Mary found a black mask at the drug store and an extra large red hanky to tie around Henry’s neck. He didn’t have cowboy boots and so would have to wear his black Sunday shoes instead. Not exactly worthy of the Lone Ranger, but it would have to do.
Henry left work around four that Saturday so he could shower and get ready. His stomach was clenched and his fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt as he thought about going out with another girl. He hadn’t dated since Jenny. He imagined she would have dressed up as Cinderella or Snow White if he were taking her to the dance.
But those were fairy tales. And in a fairy tale, Jenny would have to remain. Tonight, he was stepping out into the real world, where Jenny could not be.
Jenny’s shoes announced her arrival at the bottom of the stairs where James waited, eyes and mouth wide open. She lifted the front of her white Cinderella gown with her fingertips to keep from tripping, revealing her silver slippers. Her mother’s alterations to her wedding gown had worked beautifully. Jenny’s hair had been swept up and pinned at the back of her head, a white tiara glinting just behind her curled-down bangs.
“My God, you look ravishing, Jenny,” James said, finally coming out of the spell she’d put him under.
“Thank you, Prince Charming!”
James bowed and made a broad sweeping motion with his arm, gesturing his princess to the door. “Your carriage awaits, my dear.”
“Thank you, kind sir,” Jenny stifled a giggle and curtsied.
She gasped when she saw the changes the body shop had made to the car to make it look like the pumpkin carriage of fairy tales. She knew he’d have been adamant that no lasting damage be done to his Chevy Corvette.
“But where are the white horses?” she jested.
“Under the hood, my love! All 230 of them,” quipped James.
“Make sure you have her home before midnight,” her mother called out just before James closed the door.
At quarter after seven, Travis pulled up in front of the Pederson home in his dad’s 1956 Ford Fairlane and honked the horn until Henry came out.
“We’ll pick up Julean first,” Travis said as Henry jumped in, “and then her friend. I think Julean said her name was Lorraine.”
Julean lived about two miles from Henry’s place. Hers was a two-storey home with brick exterior, almost twice the size of his. Obviously, her parents had a lot of money—or at least more money than the Pedersons. When Travis pulled up, he hopped out, ran up the walk and pushed the doorbell.
When Julean stepped out, Henry gasped. She was dressed as Snow White, the same costume he had earlier fantasized Jenny in. Julean’s dark brown hair was bobbed around her chin. She wore a blue blouse with puffed sleeves and a white collar, and a yellow layered skirt that puffed out below her waist. Her black patent leather shoes reflected in the streetlights. Henry couldn’t take his eyes off her as Travis escorted her to the car.
Travis opened the door and handed her in. She thanked him as she slid into the front seat, glancing back at Henry as she straightened her skirt.
“Hi, Hank,” she said. “I’m so glad you were able to come. Lorraine is so excited. She’s a real sweetheart; I’m sure you’ll like her. What are you going as? I can’t tell from here.”
“I’m the Lone Ranger.”
She twisted around onto her knees and peered over the back of the seat. She looked Henry up and down. “You do look like the Lone Ranger. That’s really cute, Hank.”
Travis plunked himself behind the wheel as Julean sat back down and gave him directions to Lorraine’s.
Lorraine’s house, in contrast to Julean’s, was a little smaller than Henry’s. When Travis pulled up, Henry got out and walked to the front door, churning over what should he say, how should he act and why on earth had he agreed to go with her in the first place. Before another self-defeating thought entered his mind, the front door opened and Lorraine emerged, dressed as Florence Nightingale in a white nurse’s cap, white blouse and long Victorian-era black skirt.
“Hi!” she greeted him, “I guess you’re Hank—or should I call you the Lone Ranger all evening?”
“No, Hank will be fine.” Henry was somewhat taken back by this girl. She was very attractive, Julean hadn’t been kidding. Her straight brown hair fell below her shoulders, adding length to her already long, slender build. Her dark eyes sparkled as she spoke. A subtle shade of pink lipstick coated her lips. She looked like a beauty queen. Lorraine descended the front stairs and stood in front of him.
“Well, shall we go?” Lorraine said, offering her arm.
“Yeah, of course!” Henry jerked into motion and crooked his elbow. “Let’s go.” As they walked back to the car, Henry found himself saying, “So you’re Lorraine.”
Oops, did I say that out loud?
“Yes, of course, I’m Lorraine!” she laughed. “Wouldn’t it be something if you picked up the wrong girl!”
Henry laughed too, and was grateful that the ice had been broken so easily. Nearing the car, Henry noticed Travis watching them, or more specifically, his date.
“And you must be Travis,” Lorraine said as Henry opened the door for her. “What are you wearing?”
“Why, I’m a wicked pirate of the seven seas, me hearty. If you don’t behave tonight, I’ll have ye locked up in the brig!”
“I promise I’ll be good—wouldn’t want to walk the plank!” Lorraine quipped. “And Julean, that outfit just kills!”
Henry was glad that Lorraine was outgoing and kept the conversation lively. It meant he didn’t have to try so hard to be witty, and potentially say something embarrassing instead.
“I can’t wait to get to the dance and see what everyone else is dressed as,” she said now. Turning back to Henry she added, “Julean says you’re responsible for getting the school to agree to a Halloween dance, is that right?”
“Well, the student council did.”
“Hank’s just being modest,” Julean said, “He’s the president, and what he says usually goes—least that’s the rumour around school.”
“That’s not really the case, Julean,” Henry said, glad that the darkness of the vehicle covered his steadily growing blush. “What school do you girls go to?”
“Central Collegiate.”
“Then how come you seem to know so much about what goes on at Balfour?”
“News gets around, Hank,” Lorraine said, “and Travis talks about you all the time.”
“Geez, thanks, man!”
“No sweat, buddy,” Travis said, slowing down as they pulled up to the school. “Now where am I going to park?”
“There’s the parking lot behind the school,” Henry said, waving his hand. “We can go in the back door near the gym.”
Travis cranked the wheel and the Fairlane turned into the parking lot. The four of them headed for the back door as Henry had suggested. Inside it looked like Mardi Gras; everyone was dressed up. Henry knew he’d never have the nerve to dress like some of the guys had. The centre guard of the football team wore a bonnet, dress and frilly apron like something out of Mother Goose. Tony, their star basketball player, was a Marilyn Monroe look-a-like—his balloon-enhanced “rack” barely held in check by
a snug mohair sweater.
They reached the gym just as the hired band launched into “Dream Lover.”
“Ooh, I love this song,” Lorraine squealed. “Come on, let’s dance.” She grabbed Henry’s hand and pulled him out into the middle of the gym.
As they danced, Lorraine laughed and joked about everyone and their costumes, Henry couldn’t get over how much Lorraine’s bubbliness and spontaneity reminded him of Jenny, though unlike Jenny, Lorraine didn’t pay too much attention to him even while they were dancing. But, in all honesty, Henry wasn’t paying much attention to her, either. He kept catching Julean’s eye as she glanced at him over Travis’ shoulder, kind of liking the way she lowered her gaze every time their eyes met.
After a few songs, Lorraine and Henry made their way to a table to catch their breath. Travis and Julean joined them.
“Would you like some punch, Lorraine? Julean?” Henry asked.
“Sure! That’d be great.”
“Oh, I’d love a cup of punch! It’s warm in here.”
“Come on, Travis. You can help me.”
“Arrgh! Aye, matey!” Travis replied.
Walking towards the canteen, Travis went on and on about what a dish Lorraine was. “Do you mind if I dance with her, Hank?”
“Not at all.” Actually, he’d been trying to think of a way to ask Travis if he could dance with Julean.
It was a long drive from Jenny’s house in the country to Springview High, and when they arrived the parking lot was almost full, the gym nearly bursting with people.
But all activity stopped when Jenny and James entered. The gym had been transformed into a ballroom and it was truly as if royalty had entered the room. If it hadn’t been for the music the band was playing, there would have been dead silence as Prince Charming led his Cinderella to the dance floor. Jenny hoped the other students would quit staring and start to dance again. Gradually, they did, though they left a large circle of space around the royal couple.
Another Angel of Love Page 20