Just to See You Smile

by Sally John

  He let the tears fall now. How could he have done this to her? She was always there for him, supporting who he was with her quirky smile and beautiful gray eyes and her great capacity for not complaining.

  And he’d let her down. Broken that promise that they would do it the old, traditional way. He would financially support them and— The vows! There were vows. They had literally written down that promise in their vows, not the public ceremony vows, but— What had they promised? They’d kept a copy, hadn’t they? They would have kept a copy. Where—?

  The trunk he was sitting on. Annie called it their memory treasure chest. It was an old hand-me-down, her version of a cedar hope chest she could never afford. He opened the lid and the scent of cedar floated out. She must have placed cedar blocks inside to keep their treasures from smelling like hand-me-down stuffiness.

  Two hours later Alec sat on the floor beside the trunk, memories strewn about him. Memories in the form of dried flowers; high school football programs; ticket stubs; packets of letters; a shoebox of photos; a handkerchief; a scarf; his letter sweater wrapped in tissue paper and plastic; a sketch-book of her drawings, mostly of their college campus and a nearby state park; a large manila envelope.

  He held each memento, racking his brain for its significance. They should do this together. Between them they would remember everything. The two of them together… They needed each other.

  He reached into the envelope and pulled out a handful of loose papers. There were favorite quotes, poems, scraps of paper with notes to each other…and, in a folder, in plastic covers…the vows.

  Anne’s were written, of course, on pale pink stationery, now faded, in calligraphy. His were printed in block letters— his cursive was unreadable—on copier paper with a black ballpoint.

  Alec wiped at his eyes. He felt like a kid who, while digging a tunnel to China, had unearthed a box of priceless gold coins.

  They had written these for each other. During the wedding ceremony at the church, they had recited the traditional vows, promising to love, honor, and cherish, whatever those vague terms meant. That night in the hotel’s honeymoon suite, they had exchanged their personal ones, hoping to make the abstract specific.

  His young wife had promised to kiss him every morning with a smile…make the coffee…run the household…pay for his grad school…change 95 percent of the diapers they hoped to need…bake his favorite cookies and always have some in the freezer…always be pleasant to his mother…clean the gunk out of the sink strainers…and pray for him every single day…

  Alec smiled. Last time he checked the freezer, they were down to a dozen chocolate chip cookies, still his favorite after 17 years. Was she praying for him?

  He hesitated before turning to his. What had he forgotten?

  The biggie jumped out at him, as he feared it would. “I promise to—right after grad school—totally support us financially. We will always make ends meet on my check alone so that you can be a stay-at-home mom until all six kids are out of high school.”

  It wasn’t the way he had grown up. His favorite, most comfortable memories as a little boy were of staying at his Grandma Lottie’s. His earliest memories were of spending summer days with her and Grandpa Peter. Their house felt more like home than his own. Even with a younger brother and sister, he was often lonely. And so, he had wanted six kids for him and Annie to love to pieces day in and day out.

  They had lost the fourth baby, five months in the womb. There were no more after that.

  “I promise you will always be my one and only sweet-heart.”

  The tears flowed now. Dear God, what happened? I didn’t mean for it to happen.

  After a time, Alec felt a cleansing effect. He had come to the end of himself and realized there was no other place to hide. God was carrying him now.

  His eyes fell on the loose papers. In those early, exhilarating, romantic days Anne often copied poems and quotations that moved her. He picked one up. It was a poem by Edgar A. Guest.

  “Send Her a Valentine”

  Send her a valentine to say

  You love her in the same old way.

  Just drop the long familiar ways

  And live again the old-time days

  When love was new and youth was bright

  And all was laughter and delight,

  And treat her as you would if she

  Were still the girl that used to be.

  Pretend that all the years have passed

  Without one cold and wintry blast;

  That you are coming still to woo

  Your sweetheart as you used to do;

  Forget that you have walked along

  The paths of life where right and wrong

  And joy and grief in battle are,

  And play the heart without a scar.

  Be what you were when youth was fine

  And send to her a valentine;

  Forget the burdens and the woe

  That have been given you to know

  And to the wife, so fond and true,

  The pledges of the past renew.

  ’Twill cure her life of every ill

  To find that you’re her sweetheart still.

  “Daddy! Daddy! Where are you?”

  “Up here, Mandy.” Alec wiped his flannel sleeve across his face and took a deep breath.

  His daughter’s light footstep tapped on the wooden stairs. “Here you are! Mr. Kingsley is on the phone.” She handed him the cordless.

  “Thanks, punkin.” He held out his other arm, inviting her to sit on his lap. She settled in. “Joel. Morning.”

  “Hi, Alec. Hope I’m not disrupting anything.”

  “Not at all. What’s up?”

  Joel cleared his throat. “I need some advice from a school board member, preferably one of my allies.”

  “At your service.”

  “Thanks.” He took an audibly deep breath. “Is there any rule against a principal dating a teacher?”

  Alec chuckled. “I don’t think so. I hear female teachers can even be married now. And if you were to smoke and have a few at the neighborhood bar, only a handful of folks would frown.”

  “I suppose that’s my real question. How many would frown if I courted Britte? No smoking and drinking involved.”

  Alec laughed now, as heartily as he had been crying earlier. “Congratulations!”

  “Uh, thanks, but you didn’t answer my question.”

  He glanced at the poem on the floor near his knee and hugged Mandy. “Three unfortunate, miserly wretches come to mind, but then their faces are always pinched and only one of them has a vote on the board. Joel, it doesn’t matter what Valley Oaks thinks. If you’re falling for Britte Olafsson, don’t let anything get in your way. I’ve been married for 17 years, and nothing, absolutely nothing, compares to that relationship. Don’t let life get in the way. That is life, real life.”

  “You’re sure about that?” he asked, his tone facetious.

  Alec smiled at his own adamancy. “You caught me at a strange moment. By the way, do you have any ideas on how to be romantic? I’m a little out of practice in that department.”

  It was Joel’s turn to laugh. “Tell me about it.”

  “Come on, help me out. What are you doing with Britte today since there’s no school?”

  “She’s coming over and we’re talking coaching.”

  “Now that certainly sounds romantic.”

  “It’s who she is, you know. And I’m cooking dinner for her.”

  “Ahh, now we’re getting somewhere.”

  “I want to take her to Chicago to see the Bulls play because I think she’d like that.”

  “I bet she would.”

  “Valentine’s Day is coming.”

  “When?”

  “Man, you are out of practice. It’s always the same, February 14. That’ll be here in about a month. So I want to buy something special for her. Britte’s not the roses-and-candy type, but I’ll figure something out.”

  “
Anne’s not the roses-and-candy type either.”

  “Well, you’ve known her for a long time. Shouldn’t be too hard. Thanks, Alec. I really appreciate your encouragement.”

  “What if I had told you instead to forget dating her?”

  Joel was quiet for a moment. “I’d have put a message on the Community Center sign. ’Kingsley Woos Olafsson.’ Maybe put an ad in the kids’ Viking Views.”

  Alec laughed. “I think that’s why we hired you. Great attitude. Have a good one!”

  “You, too. See you.”

  Alec pushed the off button. True, he had known Anne for a long time…so why didn’t it feel as though he knew her?

  “Daddy, does Mr. Kingsley love Britte?”

  “Sounds like it.”

  She grinned up at him, her face a miniature of her mother’s. “Britte needs a husband.”

  “And why is that?”

  “All my favorite teachers are ‘Mrs.’”

  He smiled. “Hey, do you think Mommy would like me to cook dinner for her?”

  “Yeah. Then she could paint.”

  “Paint?”

  “She wants to paint. She said if she didn’t cook, maybe she’d have time to paint.” Mandy pointed to the scattered piles. “What is all this stuff?”

  “Uh, memories. Want to see what your mom and dad looked like when we were Drew’s age?” He reached for the shoebox and began to share his and Anne’s love story. The youngest proof of its reality listened intently, her gray eyes rapt with delight.

  Forty-Three

  Britte studied Joel’s condominium complex as they pulled into his driveway a few blocks behind the high school football field. Nice place. New construction. Minimally landscaped with small evergreen bushes. Not many units. Uniform beige siding with forest green trim. Unhindered views of snow-covered fields. “Joel, I could have driven myself over.”

  “But I would have followed you home anyway.” He tapped the garage door opener and glanced over at her. “Cal called. Hughes is out on bail.”

  “Here we go again.” She wrinkled her nose.

  He drove into the attached garage and cut the engine. “He said you need to get a restraining order. If Hughes gets within a hundred feet of you, he gets arrested.”

  “Guess that means no more games for him.” She felt again a heavy sadness for his family.

  Joel touched her shoulder. “On a cheerier note, I called Alec Sutton earlier and asked him what he thought as a board member. About, you know, us.”

  She laughed. “You didn’t! He probably wonders if you’ve lost your mind going out with me, of all women. He knew me when I was a spoiled child and smart-mouthed adolescent.”

  “Has anything changed?”

  “That remark is going to cost you.”

  “How about a home-cooked dinner?”

  “Sounds great.” They climbed from the car, and he opened the door leading into the condo. “So what was Alec’s response?”

  “He thought I’d lost my mind.”

  She stepped through the door he held open. “There is a glint in your eye, Mr. Kingsley.” It was, in fact, a gleam of delight that erased years from his face. She had never seen him so unguarded. “I don’t know if I believe you.”

  He smiled and shut the door. He really had an awfully nice smile.

  “You should do that more often.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Smile. Christmas is over, you know.”

  He chuckled, understanding her reference to the dictum that teachers shouldn’t smile before Christmas. “The timing is different for principals and generals. We have to wait until Easter to crack a smile. May I take your coat?”

  With his help, she shrugged out of it. “Nice kitchen.” Talk about gleaming. The walls and countertops were white, as were the apparently new appliances. There was a sliding glass door overlooking a deck and a field. A square, light-colored wooden table completed the décor. She slipped off her athletic shoes. “Spotless, too, of course.”

  “Of course. It’s not too tough to clean, living alone.”

  “You saw my kitchen.”

  “But you’re in the middle of basketball season. Come on. I’ll give you the grand tour.”

  She followed him through the wide doorway that led into a large hall. One end of it was open to the living room. Around its other sides were the front door and a smaller hall.

  Joel went to a closet and hung their coats. He gestured. “This is it. Bedrooms down there, one of which is my office away from the office. Living room here.” They walked into the sparsely furnished, contemporary room.

  “It’s all so bright and new.”

  “Bachelor pad. No Aunt Mabel ever lived here. Did I pass inspection?”

  She gave him a puzzled look.

  “Based on my home, do you think we should continue getting to know each other?”

  “You’re passing with flying colors, General. How about vice versa?”

  “Flying colors, ma’am. Your house conjures up cozy grandma memories. And no, I’m not comparing you to my grandmother.”

  She smiled. “Good. So what did Alec really say?”

  “We’re not breaking any rules.”

  “I wouldn’t want to break any rules. What are we going to do about the gossip?”

  “Ignore it. How about some coffee?”

  “Love some. Mind if I watch you make it? After drinking yours, mine didn’t taste quite right this morning.”

  “I’ll teach you.” In the kitchen, he talked her through grinding beans and measuring water. “How did practice go?” Though it was a school holiday, both of them had gone in to work, greeting each other from a distance.

  “Fine. Jordan wasn’t there. I talked with the girls about the situation. Naturally, they’d already heard about it. They’ll support her. Hopefully they can talk her into coming back to school tomorrow. I suggested we bring Trevor on board as a manager. They liked the idea.”

  “You are something else, Britte. I want to suspend him indefinitely.”

  She smiled. “You know that wouldn’t help him.”

  “It’d help me. Cal told me the kids are staying with relatives for the time being. Their mother’s gone to a shelter.”

  “I wish we could fix it for them.”

  He touched her shoulder lightly and reached behind her into a cupboard. “Maybe lock up Gordon and throw away the key?”

  “Mm-hmm. Something like that.”

  Leaning against the counters, they chatted like old friends as the coffee dripped into the carafe. Its strong scent eventually engulfed the kitchen, and Joel filled two mugs. He wore blue jeans today with an olive green fleece shirt that high-lighted the green flecks in his eyes. When he handed a cup to her, his fingers brushed against hers. She kept her eyes lowered, concerned they would betray her thoughts, which jolted as if electrified. Why was it that for nearly six months she hadn’t noticed how attractive the guy was?

  In the living room she sat on the couch, leaving the recliner for him. He chose, instead, the floor, his back against the couch.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “I guess.” She eyed the stack of videos, clearly labeled as girls basketball games, dated last year. “If you think this will help.”

  “I think it will.” He pointed the remote at the television and VCR.

  Instantly she came into view, huddled with her girls on the court. The scoreboard indicated zero to zero. It was at the beginning of a game.

  Joel lowered the volume and began narrating in a quiet tone. He fast-forwarded through much of the game, focusing instead on Britte’s interaction with the girls. He praised, pointed out inconsistencies, made suggestions, compared her style with what he had seen of it this season.

  “Okay?” He stopped the tape and looked back at her.

  She nodded.

  “I think I’ve figured out a pattern. Mind if I show you more?”

  “Please.” She set her mug on the end table. “I respect your opinion.”


  “All right, then.” He turned around again and aimed the remote.

  Britte watched the start of another game. She truly didn’t mind being critiqued by someone who knew what he was talking about and didn’t have a daughter on the team. What she found disturbing was the idea of Joel diligently studying her on tape. It was an unparalleled act of outright caring. The impact of it interfered with her effort to concentrate on basketball.

  Well, that and the movement of his shoulder against her leg every time he lifted the remote.

  She pulled her legs up on the couch and tucked them beneath herself, stifling a sigh.

  Over two hours later, Joel flicked off the television with the remote and swiveled on the floor to face Britte. He rested his arms on the couch. “Does that make sense?”

  Those eyes of hers that mesmerized him were clouded. Avoiding eye contact with him, she nodded.

  Had he misread her? He thought she was strong enough to handle the criticism. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Oh, Joel, how could I get so far off track? It’s as if I totally forgot the definition of teamwork. And what’s happened to my focus? The girls are first and foremost. I know that!”

  He moved up to the couch, put his arms around her, and kissed the top of her head. “Hey, we all do it. You don’t have to be perfect.”

  “I blew it.” Her voice was muffled against his shoulder. “I’ve alienated them.”

  “Only for the moment. It’s been a tough season every which way. And I wasn’t much help. You were right insisting that I back you up.” He remembered the faculty Christmas party when she had asked for his support against Hughes. “Britte, I’m sorry for being political. Just like you, I lost sight of my team.” He looked down at her. “You’re my team first. We are in this together, on the same side. And I promise I will always be faithful. Nobody messes with my faculty.”

  She stared back at him. “Do you know how much that means to me? I feel like a two-ton weight just fell away.”

  Respond to those in need. It was ingrained in him to comfort Britte the moment he saw her hurting, and so he had jumped again to her side. But maybe it wasn’t such a good idea, sitting closely, holding her, losing himself in that royal blue gaze…in the thought of that wonderful mouth, so close—