Minerva Day

by Christie Keele

  John's picture was easy to make. He never required much, never really looked at his Valentine. Piper was different. She would stare at hers for hours, and when she was very little, would carry it around with her until it fell apart. Minerva made sure, every year, to make hers extra special.

  After gluing the last of the blue felt on the popsicle stick frame, she spread a thin line of glue all the way around it before adding the glitter. When it dried, she carefully glued the picture of John under the frame. Minerva stepped back and looked at the finished product. The gold sparkled under the kitchen light, framing John's baby face in a soft halo. She marveled at the way the sparkles brought out the blue in the felt.

  Minerva set the picture aside to let it finish drying. She pulled a couple of feet of pink ribbon from the roll and cut it. Holding the ribbon in front of her, she placed her scissors near the top and in one fell swoop slid the scissors down. When she let go at the bottom, the ribbon curled into a long pig's tail. She did this again with three more strands and laid them aside. The glitter would look nice on this frame, too, but to make sure, she sprinkled a tiny amount on the pink felt. Just like for a princess. She hummed and examined the photo of Piper.

  She must have been about five or six years old here. Minerva turned it over to see if there was a date. Not finding one, she turned it back over. She glanced at John's picture resting above hers. Her eyes wandered back to Piper. Minerva somehow remembered, reaching back through the years, Piper hadn't felt good that day, but went to school anyway, probably at Minerva's insistence. Today, though, she gazed at the red-lidded eyes, the pink-tipped nose. Piper did look like she didn't feel good. Minerva lifted the picture and turned sideways in her chair, studying it closer. Piper's hair - it looked different than usual. She looked around the child's head at the short, straggly locks. It looked like Piper had cut it herself. She thought of her daughter's determination to have her way. But then something dawned on her. Minerva's face blushed while she stared at the picture. I cut her hair. She turned back to the table and dropped the picture on it. I cut it while she slept.

  Minerva picked up the photo again. The little girl with the sky blue eyes grinned into the camera. She noticed her mouth, the tiny gap between her lips. One tooth was gone, pulled by a string not too long before that day. Henry loved the "smiling eyes" of his daughter. Of course, John's eyes were the same, but it meant something different for Henry. Piper was her daddy's girl. She again looked at the chopped locks. Minerva couldn't remember if she'd combed her hair that morning or if Piper had. She noticed there was no barrette in her hair, which was unusual. Piper liked pinning her bangs out of her eyes with one of the pastel colored animal barrettes she had received for her birthday. Now there were no bangs left to pin.

  Minerva choked back a sob and her hand grasped her chest. I cut my daughter's hair while she slept. Minerva wept and stroked her finger across the picture. She didn't know when things had turned bad for her and Piper, or why they had turned. She stared at the daughter she missed, the one she never understood.

  "I'm sorry." Minerva pressed the picture to her lips for a few seconds, her other hand still clutched in a fist at her chest. "I'm so terribly sorry."

  Minerva picked up the phone and dialed Piper's number. The phone rang four times before someone picked it up. Minerva dropped the phone back in its cradle, severing the connection. The weak voice on the other end sounded like Piper's, but she didn't know for sure. Maybe she wasn't ready to talk with her, not yet anyway. She set the phone on the kitchen counter then plugged in the coffee pot. She would have to think hard about talking with her daughter.

  She squeezed a dollop of glue on the end of the first pink streamer, and, lifting the dried frame, stuck it on one side. She chose another streamer and did the same for the opposite side. Minerva held it up and looked at her work. She would add the picture last. She glued the last two streamers on the frame and laid it back on the table to dry.

  Minerva poured herself a cup of coffee, dropped in some sugar, and headed for her favorite chair. The Price is Right would be on and she wanted to see what Bob Barker was up to today. She still preferred him over the new host of the show. Thoughts of Piper nagged at the back of her head and when they pushed to the forefront, she would deflect them with thoughts of something else. She thought of the food for the party and what they'd eat. She thought of Walter and his visit that evening. But still, Piper pressed in her mind. It was halfway through the show before she realized she hadn't made one bid on any of the items.

  She gathered herself out of the chair and retrieved the phone. Leaning against the nearby wall, she dialed the number once again.

  "Hi," Minerva said, after hearing Piper's voice.

  There was a long pause before Piper spoke. "Did you call before? I thought you were George."

  "Uh, no...he's still at work. Should be here around—"

  "So he's still staying with you?"

  "Yes. I hope you don't mind. Piper—"

  "What do you want, Mother?" Piper's voice sounded flat, she thought, like there was no feeling in it.

  "Just wanted to say hi, and to see how you're doing. How are you feeling?" She winced, thinking Piper may not answer her.

  "I'm all right," Piper said.

  Minerva waited before speaking, thinking Piper would keep talking. "Well, I'm having a late Valentine's Day party next week and would like for you to be here." She paused again, not knowing what else to say. She wasn't good at tension-filled small talk and it crossed her mind to hang up.

  "I can't go. I have plans already."

  Piper's voice still sounded flat, but this time it was shaky. Minerva figured she was lying. "Your brother and uncle will be here." She didn't know about George yet.

  "I will see them while they're here. Listen, I've got to go now."

  Minerva forced a hand through her hair and batted her eyes. She was at a loss for words and instead mumbled into the phone while her mind searched for what to say. What she wanted to tell Piper was Why won't you come here? I am your mother, the one who gave birth to you, or, I love you and want to see you, or, let's mend our relationship and let's start by eating some yummy cake together, what do you say? Or, she could say, I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused you, please come see me, it will all get better.

  But instead she said nothing.

  "Well, bye," Piper said. Minerva heard the phone disconnect.

  She sat with the receiver in her hand, oblivious to the noise on the TV. Someone had just won a brand new car! Only Lew stirred at the boisterous cheering of the audience.

  After Lew yapped for her attention, she snapped out of her inner world and hung up the phone.

  ***

  Piper hung up the phone, dabbed her cheeks and nose, and sat down to plan. She needed to deflect Minerva. The first thing on her to-do list was to visit Walter. She bundled herself in her black wool jacket and pulled a cap over her head. Her limp ponytail rested on her back while she walked into Sav-A-Lot. Pulling the cap further down her forehead, she stuffed her hands in her coat and went straight to the counter where Walter stood, grinning at her.

  "Listen, can we talk for a second?" she said, not returning his smile. "I have a favor to ask of you."

  Walter shrugged. "Sure. What can I do for you?"

  "Can you get Mother out of the house?" she asked.

  "Yes," he said. "I think I can do that. What for?"

  "Well, just trying to reconnect with her, maybe, and I'd like to have a little coming home party, of sorts."

  Walter's face brightened and he held out his hands, palms up. "Oh, that's wonderful!"

  Piper's stone face didn't change. "Could you get her out of the house tonight? I just need to hang up a few decorations, you know. Shouldn't take too long," she said.

  "Oh sure, I'm going over there tonight, maybe we can go to dinner. I can keep her out longer if you need me to."

  "Nope, don't want to interfere with her bedtime."

  "Well, good," he said wi
th genuine cheer in his voice. "I'm glad you're doing this. Minerva will be so happy. You can come by about six, and we'll be gone by then. I'll make sure the door will be unlocked, too. She'll love the surprise!"

  Piper turned to leave and heard him say, "And Piper, thanks...she misses you."

  She managed a thin smile before exiting the door, her eyes remaining fixed in position. "Great," she said to no one in particular.

  Piper knew she'd probably run into George at her mother's trailer, but she could handle that. All she had to do was show an interest in talking with him and he'd melt like butter in her hands. It wasn't that Piper was only interested in scheming, but she did need to manage her feelings somehow and find the truth about her father. There had to be something in the trailer, maybe hidden away in a closet or locked in a drawer. She wanted to put this behind her once and for all. Was it possible to forgive her mother?

  She poked her thick sunshades on her face and marched toward her car.

  ***

  Right before six o'clock, she pulled into Minerva's driveway. George's truck wasn't there. He got home around seven most evenings. Maybe she could be finished before then and not have to see him at all. She tried the door and it opened right up. Stepping in, she flipped on the light and heard Lew's incessant barking down in the hall. In no time Lew was at her feet, nipping at her heels. "Hush," Piper said, pushing the dog away with her foot. Lew continued barking, but that didn't stop her. She knew where to go, to the closet where her mother kept her filing box.

  She flipped on the hall light and opened the closet door. She pulled from the top shelf a medium sized plastic container. She tried the latch to see if it was locked and the lid popped open. Sitting at the table in the kitchen, she gathered the glue, glitter, and what was left of the popsicles and pushed them aside. She began sorting through the plastic container.

  She flipped past her mother's life insurance papers, a manila folder with papers concerning the trailer, a copy of her father's old army card, and her parents' birth certificates. She removed these things to make room for a more thorough search. She opened an empty passport book. Her parents had never traveled. She didn't know why Minerva even had a passport. She strained to see out the kitchen window thinking George could be there any minute. It was still only six-fifteen.

  Piper dumped the rest of the contents. She unfolded a vanilla cake recipe and quickly refolded it. She opened an envelope to find a thick strand of hair inside with a caption on the note: John and Piper's first haircut. She tossed it aside and continued her search. Only two items left. She opened a book, its binding made of purple velour. Inside was her father's death certificate. She looked at the cause of death. Gastrointestinal bleeding. The doctor had said the bleeding was likely caused by a peptic ulcer that didn't get the proper care it needed over time. But Piper didn't believe this. Piper closed the book and picked up the last item. It was a letter.

  She unfolded the paper, careful not to tear any part of it, her eyes scanning its contents. She read and re-read it, perhaps to find something she'd missed before. She folded the letter and put it aside. Her father hadn't been the kind to have an affair. But here it was, the letter she never believed existed, the one her mother told her about a few months ago. Piper didn't want to look too carefully at it and she wished she'd never seen it. She belonged to her father, and anything he did was supposed to be all right with her. The thought of him being anything other than what she had stored in her heart was unthinkable.

  It was now six-thirty and Piper still had places to check. She stuffed the filing cabinet back in the closet. Lew yapped one last time before being scooted in the spare bedroom, where she ran and hid under the bed. She was about to close the door when she spotted some papers up in the closet.

  She sat on the bed, Lew still hiding underneath. In her lap were three folders. She opened the top one and browsed through the papers. Nothing she could make out. Maybe some mortgage papers. The stack was from Newbury, the company who financed the trailer. The papers seemed out of place to her, since the original sale papers were in the filing box. She closed the folder and opened another one: cranberry cake, melted cheese balls, strawberry daiquiris, Russian chocolate mousse. Recipes. She opened the last folder. Her watch read six-forty, almost time for George to get here. Piper's breath caught when she saw its contents. Inside were three child-like drawings: one, a drawing of a brown bear, the second, a house with three people standing in front under a tree, and the third, a huge red heart with I love you scribbled in the middle. Fellow's drawings. She held a hand over her mouth, but before closing the folder, she took the heart, folded it in half, and placed it deep in her purse.

  She replaced the folders and went back into the hallway. Nearing Minerva's bedroom, she was unnerved by the clothes strewn everywhere. Her mother had always been the best housekeeper. She stepped over a stack of unwashed clothes near the closet door. The last place to check was in here.

  Piper searched hastily through old shoeboxes, revealing her mother's penchant for antique "junk jewelry" as she called it, several of the pieces gifts from Piper. She unfolded a part of the United States flag, the flag that honored Henry at his funeral. She patted it aside before moving to the last part of the closet.

  While lifting her arms to grab a paper sack, she heard a noise and jumped. The front door had slammed. George. She peered in the sack and saw more papers. They looked like instruction booklets for home appliances. She pushed the sack back into its place. Her long strides echoed behind her while she went to meet him.

  "What are you doing?" George asked.

  Piper stopped where the hall ended and the kitchen began as if she didn't want to get too close to him. "What are you doing here so soon?"

  "I'm staying here." George looked around the kitchen. "Where's your mom?"

  She sat on a chair at the table. "I'm looking for stuff." She halfway rolled her eyes, her lips forming a tight bow. "Don't get involved."

  George hesitated before walking to the table and pulling out a chair. She met his curious gaze before he took a seat. "What's going on here?"

  "I'm looking for evidence."

  "Evidence of what?"

  Piper snapped to her feet and secured her purse to her side. "I don't have to talk to you about this." She hurried to open the door and stepped onto the porch.

  She heard George's heavy steps behind her. "What about our marriage?" he asked. She slid in the car and slammed the door, starting the engine at the same time. His long legs got there faster than she could pull out of the driveway. "I lost someone I love, too. I lost Fellow just like you did, Piper!"

  "Get back, George," she said through the closed window. She floored the gas pedal and the car spun in reverse, leaving George standing there in the muddy driveway.

  ***

  Minerva tossed her purse on a small plant holder beside the door and dropped in her keys. She didn't notice Walter's baffled look while he followed behind her.

  "Want some tea?" Minerva removed her coat and placed it over a kitchen chair. Without hearing his answer, she reached for the teapot and set it on the burner, turning the heat to high.

  She heard him murmur a yes and turned around. He was peering down the hall with a confused look on his face. The only sound was the turning of shower knobs that could be heard through the kitchen wall.

  "That's George," Minerva said. "Or some stranger come to shower." She laughed then winked. The sharp slap of her hand on Walter's derriere made him jump. "Guess I better go see if it's someone waiting in there for me."

  Walter mocked a laugh and pinched her cheek. "Better get my gun," he said.

  She passed George minutes later in the kitchen, the scent of Irish Spring wafting off him. "Come watch the news with us, George. Do you want some tea?"

  "Sure." George said. She handed him a cup and he sat on the couch, Walter sat on the opposite end. Minerva settled in the recliner and covered her legs with an afghan draped over the back of the chair, her eyes glued to the TV. />
  "Shh!" she said, even though no one was talking. "Listen to this," she said, stretching out her arm, her palm directed at Walter and George.

  She lowered her outstretched arm and her jaw slackened. She glanced at George and he was watching, too. "Alfred Potts has been assigned a defense attorney," the announcer said. Potts' mug shot splayed across the screen and a short clip of him being escorted inside the jail flashed on.

  Minerva's nose wrinkled and her mouth twisted to the side. "Look at that son of a bitch," she said, nodding her head toward the picture. "Isn't he the ugliest man you ever saw?"

  "Sure is. They'll put him away," Walter said. "Wish we could've seen the whole report."

  "It'll be on again in the late edition." Minerva looked at George. "You okay?"

  "Yep," George said, slurping his tea, his eyes squinted. "Wish I could get my fists on him. Give him a little of my own justice." He sat back and the muscles of his jaw clenched.

  "Let the good Lord take care of him," Walter said. "There will be justice for what he's done."

  George heaved himself up and left the room. Minerva looked after him while he padded down the hall. "I feel so bad for him," she whispered to Walter.

  George returned with his boots, sat down again, and raised a pant leg to make room for the first boot. "Minerva, I came home today and Piper was here. You know anything about that?"

  Her head jerked up and her eyes bugged. "What do you mean? Piper was here?"

  Walter closed his eyes and sighed. She looked at Walter. "What?"

  George pulled on the second boot and yanked the pant leg down over it. "She was here when I got home this evening."

  She glanced at George then back at Walter. "What was she doing here? And how did she get in? I locked—"

  "I let her in," Walter said, turning to Minerva. "I knew she was coming over."

  Minerva's nose reddened and her heart quickened. She sprang from her seat. "What do you mean, you knew? What the hell is going on here, Walter?"