Passing Through Perfect

by Bette Lee Crosby

  By six-ten Benjamin was pacing nervously back and forth in front of the theater. Twice he walked to the end of the street and peered around the corner, but there was no sign of Delia. When she finally came scurrying down Center Street at six-twenty-five, a rivulet of perspiration was rolling down his back.

  “I’m sorry to be so late,” she said. “Daddy was in one of his preaching moods and supper ran long.”

  “I was worried,” Benjamin said, trying not to show how truly frantic he’d been. “What with not knowing where you live or how to find you.”

  “Why, I live right here in Twin Pines,” she said with a laugh. “My daddy’s the pastor at New Unity Church, so I’m easy enough to find.”

  On Saturday night they’d talked about seeing The Lost Weekend but the movie was now of little interest, so they passed it by and went for a ride in Benjamin’s shined-up car. There had been little conversation in the noisy ballroom, but once they were alone together Delia bubbled over with things to say. Benjamin listened eagerly and could taste the sweetness of her as surely as he could taste the sweetness in a stalk of sugar cane. When she brought her hand across to touch his arm, he wished the night would never end. Perhaps it was the sound of her laughter, perhaps the warmth that came from her eyes; he couldn’t explain the reason, but when her hand touched him he could feel her pulse pounding in his heart.

  “You remind me of my mama,” he said.

  “Your mama?” Delia laughed like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. “What kind of sweet talk is that, telling a girl she reminds you of your mama?”

  Benjamin glanced across with a shy grin. “I’m meaning it in a nice way. My mama was the prettiest woman I’d ever laid eyes on…until now.”

  “Go on,” Delia said with a giggle. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  “No,” Benjamin answered, his voice serious as the day was long. “I ain’t never said it to nobody before.”

  The funny thing was he meant it. Delia had the kind of warmth he remembered from his boyhood days. Although he had known her for just a few short hours he could already picture her standing in the kitchen, stirring a pot of soup or pouring coffee into his blue mug. It wasn’t just the warmth of her eyes or the fact that she had a mouth curled into the most kissable smile he’d ever seen. It was because when he looked at Delia he could see the future.

  They drove to the edge of town then stopped at a roadside stand, bought two bottles of icy cold cola, and sat in the grass talking. The sky grew dark and filled with stars, but it was the warmth of Delia’s eyes that lit a fire in Benjamin’s heart.

  She was in the middle of telling about how they’d moved from Ohio because her Daddy took on the job of shepherding the flock at New Unity Church when Benjamin blurted out, “I’ve done decided you’re the girl I’m gonna marry!”

  Delia laughed. “Marry? A wife ain’t like an apple you pick off a tree. A fella’s got to court a girl and make her start liking him. Then maybe he can ask if she’s willing to marry.”

  “I know that,” Benjamin answered. “And I’m gonna ask proper, when the time’s right. But ’til then I thought you ought to know how I’m feeling about you.”

  Delia smiled and gave a funny little shrug. It was neither an agreement nor disagreement. “I suppose you can feel however you want to feel. But I ain’t about to marry somebody I don’t know a thing about.”

  “We got time,” he said. “We got plenty a’ time to get to know one another.” He gave her a knowing wink, then began telling her about the farm in Grinder’s Corner.

  “Grinder’s Corner?” she said. “Where’s that?”

  “About twelve miles east of here. It’s a little town…” Benjamin stopped there because there wasn’t much to tell. Grinder’s Corner was not really a town; it was nothing more than a wide spot in the road surrounded by a bunch of farms owned by Sylvester Crane. It was a poor comparison to Twin Pines, a town with three restaurants, a movie house, and a Brotherhood Hall that could hold hundreds of partiers.

  “Twelve miles ain’t all that far,” Delia said, “but I still ain’t gonna marry you ’til I get to liking you.”

  Benjamin leaned across and kissed her full on the mouth. It was just as he thought it would be; her lips warm and welcoming, the blush of a ripe peach soft on her skin. They fell back against the grass, and one kiss turned into several. He pressed his cheek to hers and breathed deeply, catching the scent of grass and earth and the fullness of life. When he pressed his lips to hers again, she moved into him like it was something meant to be.

  Benjamin lifted his face just high enough to smile down on hers; then he whispered, “You might not know it yet, but you’re already liking me.”

  Delia didn’t answer yes or no. She simply tilted her head back and offered her lips again.

  It was the only answer Benjamin needed.

  Benjamin

  Falling in love is something that sneaks up on you. It don’t come knocking at the door; it storms in, sits down, and takes hold of your heart. This whole past year I been busy taking care a’ the farm and Daddy and didn’t stop to think about how much I missed the sound of laughter. With just me and Daddy here, we don’t hardly ever laugh. We talk about what work we got to do n’ things like that, but we don’t laugh the way we did when Mama was alive.

  Having a woman in your life changes things. It makes hard things softer, ’specially the inside of your heart. Without a woman you get to thinking life is nothing but long days a’ work and a few dollars saved up in a tin can.

  Delia’s changed all that for me. I can’t hardly wait from one time ’til the next to go back n’ see her. I gotta admit she caught my eye with that red dress, but the thing that makes me keep coming back is the sweetness of her heart.

  We only been seeing each other for a short while so this might sound a bit foolish, but the truth is I can already see us having a flock of babies and sitting on the porch growing old together. When you find a woman what makes you feel like that, you gotta hang on to her and that’s just what I’m doing with Delia.

  Last night Daddy n’ me was sitting on the porch and I got to wondering if he’d felt the same when he met Mama. When I asked that question his eyes lit up like Halloween Jack-o-lanterns, and once he got started talking about Mama I knew the answer was yes.

  Falling in love with a girl like Mama or Delia ain’t got no explanation, but when it happens all a man can do is let his heart take him where it will.

  Delia’s Daddy

  If it were up to Benjamin he would have gladly driven back and forth every evening to see Delia, but she suggested they make it every other day.

  “No sense getting Daddy all riled up over something that might be nothing,” she said.

  Given the way she responded to his kisses, Benjamin knew the love they felt was something special. He could already see himself as her husband. When he thought of Delia he could feel the warmth of lying close to her on long winter nights, picture Sunday mornings of going to church together, and envision her petticoat hanging beside his shirt on the wash line.

  A year ago he might have been hesitant about taking on the responsibility of a wife and family, but not now. The farm was starting to show a profit, and with the fixed-up tractor anything was possible. Given a string of good growing seasons, it was conceivable that he could save enough to flat out buy the land.

  Right from the start Benjamin knew Delia was the woman he’d marry, but she insisted it took time for people to fall in love.

  “I’ve got to be sure,” she said, “and that ain’t something what happens overnight.”

  He could have easily argued that point based on his own feelings, but he gave her the time she wanted. For nearly two months Benjamin drove the twelve miles to Twin Pines every other day and met Delia in town. They’d see a picture show, go for sodas, or simply walk down the street and across the square. He brought her small presents—a chocolate bar, a bouquet of wildflowers, a pebble formed in the shape of a hea
rt—and he whispered words of love in her ear.

  From the moment they met until the moment they parted, some part of their bodies touched one another. Her head nestled against his shoulder, his arm circled her waist, hands held, broad fingers clasping a thin delicate wrist, a thigh pressed so close you could feel the rush of blood pumping through the vein.

  Even though Delia snuggled into his arms and pressed her body close to his, the evening always ended the same way. The moment he pulled up in front of her house, she jumped out and bolted toward the front door.

  “What’s the hurry?” Benjamin would ask, but she turned it off with a shrug.

  “I don’t want to wake Daddy,” she said, but the truth was George Finch was generally sitting in the living room waiting for his daughter to come home.

  In late December Benjamin took nine dollars out of his savings can and drove into Bakerstown. He went to the jewelry store and for nearly two hours stood looking at the diamond rings in the display case. He’d hoped he had enough money to buy one for Delia, a small diamond maybe, but a diamond nonetheless. As it turned out even the tiniest diamond, a stone so small you had to squint to see it, cost more than he had in his pocket.

  The jeweler, Simon Berg, had been young and in love once also.

  “How about a locket?” he suggested and led Benjamin to a side counter. He pulled two small boxes from the case and laid them atop the counter.

  Benjamin opened the first box. The locket was an oval with scrolls of filigree circling the edge.

  “Six-fifty,” the jeweler said. “It’s silver plate. Nice, but not as good as sterling.”

  Benjamin closed the lid to that box and lifted the second one. Inside was a heart-shaped locket that drew his eye right away. In the center of the heart there was second heart, puffed up a bit, just as his was. A heart within a heart. He smiled and without giving voice to his question looked at the jeweler.

  Simon grinned. “I figured you’d pick that one. Nine-twenty-five, but it’s sterling. Any woman would be mighty pleased to get a sterling necklace.” His emphasis on the word “sterling” made the locket seem even more special.

  Benjamin pulled out the nine one dollar bills, then fumbled through his pockets looking for another quarter. He came up with a dime, two pennies, and a nickel.

  “Close enough,” the jeweler said. He wrapped the box in bright red paper and tied a green ribbon around it.

  When Benjamin left the store he was smiling as he’d never smiled before. He had five days to wait, and already the gift was burning a hole in his hand.

  On Christmas Eve he met Delia on Main Street, and they walked hand in hand to the wooded area that was now their special place. They sat on the grassy knoll, and Benjamin whispered words of love that spiraled up from the center of his heart. After she unwrapped the gift he clasped the locket around her neck and kissed her with a depth of emotion that was without question.

  “The time has come,” he said. “I’m crazy in love with you, Delia. Please say you’ll marry me.”

  Delia no longer needed time to think; she already knew what her answer would be.

  “Yes,” she whispered; then, putting her lips to his, she let go of all the passion she’d been holding back.

  It wasn’t planned, but it happened. On that warm December night they made love for the first time. Afterward as he held her so close their heartbeats mingled and sounded as one, Benjamin knew he would never love anyone as he loved Delia.

  In early January Delia invited Benjamin to come for Sunday dinner with her family.

  “But I’m warning you,” she said, “Daddy’s gonna be looking you up one side and down the other.”

  “That’s okay,” Benjamin replied. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  Although he gave off an air of nonchalance, his stomach twisted itself into knots at the thought of having a man-to-man talk with Pastor Finch. “You think maybe I ought to wear my uniform?”

  Delia smiled. “Couldn’t hurt.”

  On Sunday afternoon Benjamin arrived at the Finch house a full half-hour early. With long lumbering steps he paced back and forth on the front porch looking down at his feet and wondering whether it was better to go ahead and ring the doorbell or wait until the proper time. Lost in thought, he failed to notice George Finch peering from the window.

  When the front door swung open and Delia’s daddy said, “What in the blazes are you doing?” Benjamin looked up with a wide-eyed expression. The ‘delighted-to-meet-you’ speech he’d planned was instantly forgotten.

  “I come to call on Delia,” he replied.

  “Then you should’ve knocked,” Finch said. He swung the door back and motioned Benjamin in. “Have a seat.” He pointed to an armchair across from where he sat.

  For several minutes they remained there without speaking, Delia’s daddy reading his newspaper and Benjamin folding and refolding the hat in his hands. When Benjamin could stand it no longer he said, “I been looking forward to meeting you.”

  George lifted his eyes from the newspaper and gave Benjamin a hard glare.

  “Looking forward to it, were you?” he said, grumbling. “Well, then, you’re way ahead of me. I hadn’t heard a word about you until yesterday.”

  Such a statement left Benjamin without words, so he decided to remain silent until Delia came down.

  When Finch finished the article he’d been reading he folded the newspaper and set it aside.

  “So, I understand you and my daughter have been sneaking around seeing each other.”

  “Not sneaking around,” Benjamin replied. “Delia suggested we meet—”

  “It’s sneaking around when you don’t come calling at the house.”

  With no argument to come back with, Benjamin said, “I’m sorry, sir, it wasn’t my intent—”

  “Perhaps not, but appearances are what they are.” Finch picked up his newspaper, then laid it back down again. “Delia claims you’re a farmer. That true, son?”

  “Yes. Me and Daddy have a—”

  “Daddy and I,” Finch corrected, then he went on to ask why a farmer was wearing an army uniform. The questions came one on top of another, and he didn’t allow time for answers. Ever since Delia told him she was in love with Benjamin, a barrage of angry thoughts had been banging against George’s head and once let loose they rumbled with an antagonistic roar.

  “Delia’s mama and I didn’t raise her to be the type of girl who goes sneaking around behind her parents back and—”

  When Delia walked into the room she heard George’s words and angrily stamped her foot. “Stop it, Daddy!”

  The sound of Delia’s yell brought Mary Finch to the parlor. “George, are you still carrying on about—”

  “Yes, Mama, he is,” Delia answered. “He’s embarrassed Benjamin no end.”

  Mary gave a sad little shake of her head, then announced dinner was ready.

  “Fried chicken will make everyone feel better,” she said, looking pointedly at George.

  As it turned out their dinner conversation was only marginally better than the earlier one. Delia’s daddy kept pounding out questions, and before asking about Benjamin’s education he made a point of saying Delia had attended a private school and he’d graduated from Howard University.

  About as uncomfortable as he could get, Benjamin had to admit that high school was the best he’d done. “When I signed up for the army, I figured fighting for our country was more important.”

  His reasoning sounded honorable enough, but the truth was he’d signed up before the war started. The pay was good, and it was easier than working in the fields.

  Once George moved past the issue of education, he focused on the negative aspects of being a farmer.

  “Grinder’s Corner. That’s not much of a town, is it?”

  “No, sir,” Benjamin answered. “It’s mostly farms, but nice enough countryside and less than an hour’s drive from Twin Pines.”

  Benjamin had come to the house believing he was hu
ngry, but he barely finished a drumstick and even that was aggravating his stomach. He nervously answered George’s questions one after another, and always with a deferential Yes, sir, or No, sir.

  The one time Benjamin found courage enough to talk about how fond he was of Delia, George cut him off before he even got started.

  “Do you know my daughter’s only sixteen?” he asked. Without giving time for an answer, he added that such an age was too young to be considering anything other than college.

  Delia gasped. “Daddy! Mama married you when she was only fifteen!”

  “Things were different then,” George said and went back to chewing on a piece of chicken.

  After dinner they all moved to the front parlor. Delia and Benjamin played several games of checkers, and Mary told stories of how they’d moved from place to place.

  “Being settled in one place for all your life sounds lovely,” she said. “I’ll bet your mama loves living in Grinder’s Corner.”

  It was obvious that no one in the Finch family had ever been to Grinder’s Corner; it wasn’t a place a person could love.

  “Mama passed on two years ago,” Benjamin explained and skipped past answering the question.

  Benjamin had planned to ask George for his daughter’s hand in marriage, but the opportunity never arose. Whenever anything came up that linked him and Delia, George managed to dredge up some sort of unpleasantry.

  At ten o’clock Benjamin stood to leave, and Delia stood with him.

  “I’ll walk you out,” she said, hoping they could at least steal a goodnight kiss on the porch.

  When George made a move to stand, Mary said firmly, “Sit down, George. I think Delia can handle this by herself.”