Just Dessert

by Heather Gray

  "The cost," Mary started to protest.

  "Not to worry," Grady interrupted, much to Mary's dismay. "Nobody's paying for anything. Everyone pitched in and brought what they had around. Gramps will be coming along shortly with some more of our weathered wood, and these men did the same."

  Unconvinced, Mary stared at Grady. His smoky eyes pleading, he said, "Mary, these men want to do something to help you. Most of these people tried at one time or another to help your family but got run off by your father and his shotgun. They know you're grieving, and they want to do something nice."

  Mary crossed her arms over her chest. She wanted to argue but couldn't tell if it was pride, fear of people poking into their lives, or habit that made her feel that way. As she tried to puzzle it out, Grady continued, "Let them do this. You could use the help, and it will make them feel better to contribute. Women will start bringing food. It's what they do when someone dies." He gave her a cajoling smile as he added, "Men don't bring food. They build chicken coops. Tell me where you want it, and I'll take care of everything. You won't even have to talk to any of them if you don't want to."

  The air practically crackled. Mary recognized that the charged tension was of her own making. Feeling the full weight of responsibility for her family and knowing they were watching her, she nodded to Grady before leading her brothers and sisters into the house. Had it been anybody else, she would have said no. Her resistance, though, had melted the moment she'd looked into Grady's eyes.

  "Why are all those men on our farm?" Gigi asked in a voice far too loud to be considered a whisper.

  Wincing, Mary said, "Shush. You can ask me after we're inside."

  Mary may not have wanted the men there, but her reasons didn't make sense, even to her. She and her siblings had all gotten used to concealing what life with Pa was like. Although Pa was gone now, Mary still didn't like the idea of opening her life and farm up to the people of Larkspur. Unsettled, she dreaded what the rest of the day would bring.

  Mr. Grayson, the teacher who had sent books home with the kids, was there. So was Sheriff Spooner, Arty Paulson – who now looked to be a deputy – and two of his brothers, Mayor Smith, Mr. Martinez and one of his boys, Reverend Green and about six other men Mary had seen at the church picnic. After ushering her brothers and sisters through the front door, she instructed the boys to tidy up the living room while she and the girls made refreshments.

  "How come?" asked Gigi.

  "When someone dies," Mary answered, "people come by to visit and bring food and other things they think you need. To be good hosts, we need to be able to provide cookies and coffee and water. It's been a long time since Ma died, but I kind of remember that."

  "Oh. Can I help make the cookies?" Gigi asked hopefully.

  Mary was happy to put the girls to work doing something that didn't require a lot of thought. In no time at all, Mary had Gigi mixing cookie dough while Lizzie rolled out a pie crust. It required very little focus on her part, for which she was grateful. She cooked decent enough meals, but she had to think about it more. Desserts, though, had always come naturally to her. Baking had always made her peaceful, too, no matter how upset she was. They rarely had the money for such luxuries, but thanks to all the ingredients Grady had brought, Mary would be able to fix plenty of refreshments for the people stopping by in the coming days.

  "Mary?" Bobby asked.

  "Hm?"

  "Can I go help the men?" Bobby had Mary's attention now. Helping was Bobby's way. There couldn't be any harm in it.

  Nodding, Mary said, "Do me a favor first, though, okay? Get a bucket and dipper and offer everyone a drink. Then you can pitch in and help. Ask Grady where he needs you. Do whatever he says. He's in charge." Bobby's entire countenance lit up, and he took off out the door.

  Looking around, she realized her other brother had gone missing. "Where's Clive?" she asked the girls.

  "He went to milk the cow and take the milk and eggs into town," Lizzie answered her.

  "When'd he leave?" When Lizzie shrugged in answer, Mary had to accept she'd been too distracted to notice Clive's leaving. He'd probably even told her where he was going and what he was doing.

  Chapter Thirteen

  As soon as the sun had risen in the sky to head itself toward late morning, women began arriving at the farm. Mary had never been so thankful to have Lizzie and Gigi there. Gigi did most of the talking, and Lizzie made herself busy serving drinks and refreshments to people, always making sure no one went without.

  For the most part, Mary was able to sit in the room without getting herself too involved in the conversations and activities. It felt odd to be so removed from what was going on in her own home, but she didn't know how else to function with all these supposedly well-meaning ladies coming in, looking around, and judging the peeling wallpaper and dilapidated furniture. Mary felt shamed more than she felt loved by most of the women who visited.

  It would be nice if only people who truly cared came to pay their respects. That, however, had proven not to be the case. The first several women who came calling all looked at Mary oddly and stared about the house in the most disapproving manner. She became convinced that she must be considered some sort of peculiarity in town, like a display in a museum to be studied. Often the women didn't have anything to say. Or, like their current visitor, prattled tastelessly about useless subjects like the latest fashions in town and who had been seen walking out with whom.

  Mary survived by imagining the pleasure it would give her to stand and shout her frustration at the top of her lungs. Surely that would give the meddlesome ladies something to talk about. Right as she thought she couldn't take another minute of it, two new faces appeared in the doorway.

  Mary felt tears press the backs of her eyes as she saw Mrs. Smith and her daughter Minnie. They had never been great friends, but Mary had gone to school with Minnie up until Ma died. Minnie had been a year or two ahead of her in school, but the girl had always been kind to her, and Mary had never forgotten.

  Mrs. Smith made small talk with the woman who had been going on about fashion. Mary watched as Mrs. Smith maneuvered her robust frame until she'd gotten the other woman through the front door. Wanting to laugh out loud with joy, Mary instead bit her lip and stood to accept the customary condolence hug from Minnie.

  Rather than the hugs she'd been getting all morning from women who behaved as if they didn't actually want to touch her lest her poverty be contagious, Minnie enveloped Mary in a hearty hug and held her tight. Though Minnie's head barely came up to her shoulder, the smaller girl's arms wrapped around Mary and warmed her from the inside out. Her tension evaporated, and by the time Minnie let go, Mary felt as distressed as a napping puppy. Unused to this feeling, Mary didn't know how to respond.

  "Sarah would be here, too," Minnie said, referring to another girl who had gone to school with them, "but her beau was shot during that awful bank robbery business last week. She felt she needed to stay in town." Minnie smoothed her stylish ebony chignon and adjusted her skirts as she sat down. As though she didn't at all notice Mary's silence, the visiting schoolmate continued, "You may have seen Samuel. He's been in town for a short while. He was at the church picnic that one day…" Minnie's voice trailed off.

  Nodding mutely and falling back into her seat, Mary allowed Gigi and Lizzie to jump into their roles: chatting nonstop for one and serving everyone within reach for the other. The girls had never acted like this before, so open and generous with themselves. Mary corrected herself, thinking they never acted like this with Pa around. It seemed to come so naturally to them. Wondering if she should be more surprised than she was by the drastic change in her sisters, Mary was content to allow the conversation to once again flow around her.

  "All those nice men out there are building us a new chicken coop. Isn't that the bestest thing you ever heard? Generous. Lizzie tells me it's generous. Lizzie's smart, so I believe her." Gigi nodded emphatically, her brown braid bouncing.

  Before Li
zzie even had a chance to escape the attention suddenly turned her way, Gigi continued. "The sheriff is out there, and the reverend, and Mr. Grayson, our teacher. He's the bestest teacher ever. And the mayor. I don't know what that means, but Bobby said he's important, and even he's out there working on the chicken coop. Those men sure are being nice to us!" Gigi finished with gusto, another firm nod, and a big smile at Mrs. Smith who, having seen the previous guest off, had returned and taken a seat near her daughter.

  The older woman leaned in and said to Gigi with a pronounced wink, "The mayor is my husband. I think he's the bestest too."

  Gigi's hand flew to cover her mouth, but not before everyone could see it forming a big "O" of surprise. Her wide blue eyes were uncertain and fearful as she viewed Mrs. Smith. She must have seen something on the woman's face, though, that told her no reprimand would be forthcoming. Gigi's look of concern faded as she smiled and said, "You'd like Mrs. Wilkes. She's a lot like you."

  With a nod, Mrs. Smith said, "Mrs. Wilkes is one of my dearest friends. I take that as a great compliment. Thank you, Gigi."

  Minnie snagged Mary's attention when she said, "I am going to go away to college."

  Thankful she was able to get any words out at all in this social setting, Mary managed an, "Oh?"

  "I'm still deciding where, but I think San Francisco. It's not quite as far away as some of the other places I'm considering."

  Mary didn't know what to say to Minnie, but somehow the idea of her going far from home to attend college made sense. Minnie, with her vivacious personality, outgoing nature and easy laugh, had always seemed a little out of place in Larkspur, like the town wasn't quite big enough to contain her. She struggled to find the right words to say, and the silence stretched out between them. Filling the awkward silence, Minnie said, "I brought you some dresses." Mary felt indignation rise within her, and it no doubt showed on her face, for Minnie quickly added, "I'm sorry for blurting that out. Mama says I need more social graces. Maybe I'll learn those at college."

  She still didn't say anything, but Mary's angst eased. Minnie tried again, "There are lots of dresses that won't be able to go with me to college. I was looking through my closet and found some shoved way in the back. They're old, from when I was still in school here. The style is younger than anything I'd wear now. You're so much taller than me, so I doubt they'd fit you, but I thought you might be able to cut them down and make dresses for Gigi and Lizzie."

  The faces of the women who had been visiting all day flashed through Mary's mind. It felt as if each and every woman had judged her and found her lacking. The anger she had tried to keep in check all morning began to churn, getting closer and closer to the surface. She wanted to rant at Minnie and tell her that neither the dresses nor her charity were welcome. Lizzie came over and whispered in her ear. "Please, Mary. They seem like nice people."

  Minnie again spoke up. "If you don't take them, they'll sit in the back of my closet and become food for mice and moths. Please say you'll take them. I haven't worn any of them in at least two years."

  Mary nodded stiffly and tried to let the anger go. She wanted to find the right words to thank Minnie for her kindness but found that eloquence evaded her. Feeling uneducated and inadequate, she finally said, "Thank you." Those two words certainly didn't warrant the beaming smile on Minnie's face. The look Minnie gave her, however, warmed Mary like the earlier hug and made her feel like she'd done something special and right.

  "Come with me, Lizzie, and we'll go fetch the dresses," Minnie said, jumping up from her seat and rushing out the door.

  "That girl doesn't do well with sitting still," Mrs. Smith said to Mary with a smile. Then, turning to Gigi, she said, "Gigi, do you think you could go help Minnie and Lizzie?"

  The young girl dashed out the door, yelling, "Wait for me!"

  Mrs. Smith, light from the door highlighting the generous streaks of grey in the hair loosely piled at the back of her head, turned her full attention to Mary. Suddenly caught in the older woman's intense gaze, Mary felt all the more thankful her younger sisters had been here to help thwart some of the attention their family was receiving.

  "Mary," Mrs. Smith began, "let me start by telling you how terribly sorry I am for your loss." When the oldest Fitzgerald offered no words, Mrs. Smith continued." After your mother passed, we were all so worried about you and the children. The mayor and I tried many times to come out and see you, but your pa wouldn't let us on the property." As she had recently begun to suspect this very thing, Mary found she wasn't surprised by Mrs. Smith's statement. "I know it may feel like the town of Larkspur abandoned you after your ma died, Mary, but we didn't. We all tried to do what we could, but your pa made things difficult. So, some of us pulled together and tried to find more creative ways to help."

  When Mary continued watching Mrs. Smith, the older woman said more. "I mentioned Mrs. Wilkes is one of my dearest friends. She helped. There were about a half dozen families not willing to give up. Mrs. Wilkes said she had a way to get things to you, so we would bring her canned goods, clothes, and anything else we thought you and the kids might need."

  Mary continued to stare mutely at her until Mrs. Smith continued. "The hardest thing was knowing you had to feel you'd been forsaken. We didn't want to cause more trouble or make things worse for any of you than they already were, so we tried to be secret and quiet about it. I'm not telling you all this so you'll thank me or anyone else involved. I can't say why, but it's important to me that you understand you were never forgotten by your community."

  Finding her voice, Mary finally spoke, "The supplies we would find at the chicken coop?" Mrs. Smith nodded. "Mrs. Ginty coming to school one day and telling the boys she wanted to buy milk and eggs?" Mrs. Smith nodded. "Lizzie says sometimes food would show up in their dinner pails at school." Mrs. Smith nodded. "She spied Minnie doing it once, but it continued after Minnie graduated." Mrs. Smith nodded. Looking resigned, Mary asked, "There's probably a lot more I don't know about, isn't there?" Mrs. Smith again nodded.

  "How did you know I felt like we'd been abandoned?" Mary asked.

  Mrs. Smith, sadness etched in her face, said, "I imagined how I would have felt had I been abruptly yanked out of school and cut off from the world." After a strained pause, the older woman said, "I don't know what all has gone on in the years since your ma's death, Mary, and I'm so sorry we couldn't do more."

  When Minnie and the girls came back in with the dresses and a roasting pan overflowing its edges with the biggest cooked turkey any of the Fitzgerald clan had ever seen, Mary and Mrs. Smith let their conversation fade away. Mary jumped up to help the others carry everything. Lizzie and Gigi looked comical trying to carry the long dresses without dragging them across the floor while Minnie lugged a roasting pan far too big for her small frame.

  ****

  The day wore on and other visitors came and went. Mary tried to keep track of everybody who brought something so she could write thank-you notes, though she wasn't sure exactly what she would say. She tried to resist, but in the end, Mary couldn't help but compare herself to the many women passing through her home. She did the best she could for her family, but she couldn't help feeling somehow lesser when in the same room with women who had completed school, traveled, wore finer clothes, or spoke in cultured tones. By day's end she became certain that, with the exception of the Smiths, every woman who had come to visit had found her lacking.

  As the sun began to set, Mary forced herself to go out to where the men were working. She had determined, no matter what she found, to politely thank them each for their work. After the haphazard and sometimes demeaning visits from the town's women, she had no idea what to expect from the coop and barn. What if the men had also come to stare and judge?

  With a small shake of her head, Mary had to admit she'd found some of the women's visits so irritating she'd scarcely paid attention to others. It was possible some of the women had been kinder than she was giving them credit for.

  Mrs
. Smith's words echoed in her heart. Not everyone was self-serving. These were probably some of the selfsame people who had tried to offer assistance and who, instead, had settled for inconspicuously offering assistance over the years. If coming out here to build a coop made these men feel like they were helping, then she would honor that.

  The thoughts running through her mind all froze in place when she saw the coop these men had constructed. Bobby came running up to her, "Mary, Mary, what do you think? Isn't it the best coop ever?" Mary's jaw dropped, due in part to the mammoth size of the coop and in part to the fact that she saw Clive, in the background, participating by carrying in crates of chickens from their old, dilapidated coop.

  "This is the biggest coop I've ever seen," she said, awe tracing through each syllable.

  "Well, Miss Fitzgerald," Reverend Green said, "we figured you might want to get more chickens and grow the business you've got going, so we made it big enough to fit a larger herd." Then, blushing, the reverend went on to say, "It's not called a herd, is it?"

  Mary shook her head kindly, responding to the sparkle of humor in the reverend's eyes. "They're a brood of hens."

  "Is it called something different if there's a rooster in the group?"

  "I think so," Mary answered. "A flock, maybe."

  Mary took her time shaking each man's hand and thanking him for his work. Seeing the beautiful coop they had put together for her and her family, she didn't have to force herself to thank them out of politeness. She was able to be completely sincere and appreciative for all they had done.

  As everyone headed their separate ways, Mary and her siblings waved them all off before heading back into the house for supper. Their meal would be a hodgepodge of all the different foods brought that day, but oh what a hodgepodge! They would eat like kings.