Earthly Vows

by Patricia Hickman

  Darrell watched Willie shovel potatoes into his mouth. His laughter dribbled out of him, a nervous squeal.

  “Truth is, Bo had a good job. We had enough, more than some, maybe not as much as others. But what he didn’t drink up, he gambled away.” Angel gave another cooled potato cube to John. “In spite of that, I never thought he’d be the type to up and leave,” said Claudia. “Granny told me once that she saw meanness in Bo’s eyes. It took some time to see things as she saw them, but she was right.”

  Angel buttered her bread and broke off a corner for John. “What are you going to do, Claudia, get a job?”

  “How am I going to do that? I can’t leave these two behind.”

  “Bo ought to be horsewhipped,” said Willie. Angel asked Ida May to fetch the iced-tea pitcher.

  She said to Claudia, “Have you ever heard from Daddy?”

  “Not since he sent you off with Lana.”

  “You knew about that, then?”

  “I got his letter, the last one I ever got.” Angel and Willie exchanged glances. Angel said, “So he told you that Lana was bringing us to your place.” Claudia stopped crumbling corn bread over her beans. “If you knew we were on the way, why’d you leave?”

  Willie asked. “I shouldn’t have said nothing,” said Claudia. “So you and Bo up and left after you knew we were coming to live with you?” Angel asked. “That’s a fine howdy-do, Claudia.” Willie put both wrists on the table, his gaze resting accusingly on Claudia.

  “You don’t understand how things was with us. Bo wasn’t good with John and then we had little Thorne on the way. I knew he wouldn’t be good to either of you.”

  “We could have starved, Claudia,” said Angel. “Ida May was sickly. You knew all of that and you left us behind. Even Daddy did better by us. At least he wrote to tell you we were coming.”

  “That was a bad time,” said Willie. “After Lana took off with a salesman, we hitched a ride with a crazy woman. She stole everything we had and left us out in the rain.” He described that night well, not leaving anything to the imagination.

  “I was scared,” said Ida May.

  “So was I,” said Angel. “I thought we’d all been left for dead.”

  A tear trickled down Claudia’s cheek. She set Thorne on the floor, brought the napkin to her face, and sobbed.

  Angel, Willie, and Ida May stared at one another and then at their oldest sister.

  “I made the wrong choice,” said Claudia. “I should have picked you. I was afraid that I couldn’t make it without Bo.”

  “You were right about that,” said Willie.

  “Willie, don’t make it worse than it is.” Angel wiped the sheen from John’s mouth.

  “When you got the letter from Daddy, is that when you decided to leave?” asked Ida May. She set the tea pitcher on the table.

  “It wasn’t exactly like that, no. Bo had gotten a telegram with a job offer to work for the railroad near Oklahoma City. I told him about Daddy’s letter and that you would be on the way soon. I asked if he would let me stay behind and wait for you-all and then send for us. He told me that if I didn’t leave then and there with him, that I’d be on my own. He knew he had me.” She refilled her tea glass. “He gave me almost no time to pack up our belongings. We left the next morning before sunup.”

  “You could tell,” said Angel. She paused for a second or more before saying, “I don’t blame you, Claudia, for what you did. It’s hard to know what to do when you got no one to call.” She gave Willie a look.

  “I even tried to write you a letter, Angel. But he tore it up, burned it in the cookstove,” said Claudia. She wiped her eyes again.

  “Angel’s right. I won’t hold it against you,” said Willie. “So you married a louse. You made a mistake.”

  “It wasn’t always like that between me and Bo,” said Claudia. She blew her nose into the napkin. “We made a few memories, the two of us. But it never accounted to much, not like the times I had with you-all.”

  Ida May scooted her chair away from the table. She walked up beside Claudia and threw her arms around her.

  Claudia kissed Ida May’s cheek. She hesitated as if she needed time to form her next sentence. “There’s something I need to ask you, Angel.”

  Angel rested her face in her hands and nodded at Claudia.

  “I’d like to ask you to come and stay with me until I get back on my feet. If you watch these two, then I can find a good job.”

  “Claudia, you couldn’t feed all of us,” said Angel.

  “Not Willie and Ida May, I couldn’t. But with you helping out, I could see to our needs.”

  Ida May withdrew from Claudia.

  “Don’t get in a huff, Little Sister. I’d send for you and your brother soon as I could,” said Claudia.

  “Angel’s got school to finish,” said Willie. “Miss Fern’s got her studying to become a teacher.”

  “They’s no time for that, Willie. We got to think about Thorne and little John now.”

  Angel stiffened. “Willie’s right. I want to become a teacher.”

  “Welbys help out their own, Angel. You need to learn that now, get your feet on the ground.”

  Angel helped John to the floor and gave him an extra bite of potato to suck on. She asked Ida May to help her clear the table.

  “I’m asking you to think about it, Angel. I’m tired of our family being strung out all over the country. It’s time we put back together what Momma and Daddy let fall to pieces.”

  Angel gathered the plates into a stack and carried them into the kitchen. She called Myrna out of her room and told her, “I’ll help you with the dishes.”

  Myrna said, “You’re a guest of Miss Coulter. You don’t have to bother.”

  “Not really a guest, Myrna, when you think about it. Jeb and Fern will be married soon. We’re almost family, aren’t we?”

  “You’re right, girl. I should have thought of that already.”

  Jeb drove down the road and up the Coulter drive. The car undulated over the hills and dips in the drive. Fern slid her feet back into her shoes.

  Ida May came running down the hill. Her red face gleamed and her dress tail was hiked up in back as she ran. Jeb slowed and opened his window to ask her, “Need a lift, Littlest?”

  “Claudia is taking Angel away, but we can’t go. I don’t want Angel to leave, Dub.”

  Donna opened the back car door and invited Ida May inside. She was ripe; the potent sweat of a girl was no different than a boy’s. She told Fern about going to church with Miz Abigail and about the new calf in the barn.

  “Who told you Claudia was taking Angel? Taking her where?” asked Jeb.

  “I heard them say so over dinner. It made Willie mad. He wouldn’t play with me.”

  Fern let out a breath.

  Jeb pulled underneath the oak behind the house. He got out and opened the trunk for the women, setting their suitcases out for them. Fern picked up the largest case. “I guess you got your second wish,” she said.

  Abigail came out onto the back porch. She smoothed her hair with her fingers and then smiled at her girls. “Ida May, I wondered where you were off to. You spotted them before me. That girl’s got eyes, eyes, I tell you.”

  Donna pulled out a pack of smokes.

  “Fern, you and Jeb need to hear this, I got something I want to say,” said Abigail.

  Fern’s brow tensed. She and Donna exchanged gazes.

  “I’ve been worrying over this wedding. Since you-all told all our friends about it in Oklahoma City, the phone’s not stopped ringing.” Abigail’s tone was less than enthusiastic. “Not to mention all the relations who haven’t been invited.” She kept clasping her hands in front of her, bending her fingers until the veins on her hands stood out.

  “What’s the deal, Mrs. Coulter?” asked Jeb.

  “If you marry tomorrow, then half the state will be offended. No one can come on that short of a notice and everyone wants to come. You know how it is, Fern. Most of
those people are well-moneyed, and what with your situation, it’s in poor taste to up and marry and not give anyone a chance at a wedding gift. You have two uncles who would want to be here, and that doesn’t include golf club families and the Oklahoma City families.”

  “I apologize, Abigail. I didn’t know it mattered,” said Jeb.

  Fern let out a sigh.

  “Fern, you know I don’t try to impose society on you, but marrying a minister means you’ll need a good start. If you at least give me until December, I could pull this thing off, I know I could.”

  “Fine, Mother. We can call it off,” said Fern.

  “Not just like that, not like that, Fern?” Donna huffed. “Aren’t you going to stand up to her, give her a good round or two?”

  “Donna, this isn’t your business,” said Abigail.

  “Daddy would have told her to stand up to you,” said Donna.

  Fern carried her suitcase around Abigail and into the house.

  “You’re going to talk to her, right?” Donna asked Jeb. She shot out a stream of smoke.

  Jeb picked up his suitcase and took it to Fern’s Packard. “If there’s no wedding tomorrow, there’s no need to unpack.”

  “This is not right. I don’t understand either one of you,” said Donna. She glared at Abigail.

  “What just happened?” asked Abigail. “I didn’t mean for it all to blow to pieces. She didn’t mean cancel the wedding, not really, did she?”

  Jeb walked past Abigail and touched her shoulder. “It’s not your doing, Abigail.”

  “I don’t think she meant it like that,” said Donna. “Don’t jump to conclusions. Go and talk to her.”

  Jeb found Fern sitting on the edge of her bed. Her back was to him. “I’m going to turn down the pastorate at First Community,” he said.

  She cried, so he gave her a handkerchief.

  Jeb recounted the moments from the time he had met her, when he was a charlatan on the run from the law using three abandoned kids as a front, until the time that Gracie helped him carve out a life of legitimacy. “I’ve been trying to save the world for too long, Fern. It’s time I focused on us.”

  “I don’t want you to throw it away. I saw you Sunday. You were brilliant.” She hadn’t told him that until now.

  “You make me brilliant. I know I’m not. I can tell you don’t want to move back here. You’ve made a life in Nazareth. We have.” He looked toward the closed door and then back at Fern. “I’m going to help Claudia get that job in Oklahoma City. She can take Angel with her now to help out. As soon as they’re on their feet, I’ll send Willie and Ida May to join them. Angel is almost grown. She has wanted nothing but to live with her family. I’ve wanted nothing but to live with you. We’re going to spend the time between now and December doing a better job of getting to know one another. Then we’ll give Abigail that big church wedding she’s been wanting.” He got down on one knee. “I’d like to ask you again. Will you?”

  Angel had heard the commotion, Ida May caterwauling about Jeb and Fern driving up. Donna said they went upstairs. She walked up to the door to hear Fern accepting Jeb’s decisions without argument. That wasn’t like her. Jeb seemed to be promising to send the Welbys away with Claudia. She had not imagined Fern would agree. As a matter of fact, she expected to sit down as soon as they returned tonight and laugh with Fern about Claudia’s stupid proposal. But all she could hear Fern doing was laughing. She wanted her to stop. Fern had always been a strong woman. She was the reason Angel decided to teach. This was not happening. Fern was not allowing her to slip away without a fight. Say something, Fern! Make things right, like you always do.

  7

  ANGEL LOADED HER SISTER’S BELONGINGS into the Coulter car. Jeb was passing her coming and going from the house to the car. She was quiet and keeping to the task of getting her things and Claudia’s belongings loaded for the bus trip. Her hair was combed back plain, the auburn so nearly red in the bright sun she looked like another person entirely. She put on an older dark green dress and flat-heeled shoes for traveling. Her face was tight and her mouth drawn up small. She did not apply any of the cosmetics she had taken to wearing since June.

  Jeb understood Claudia’s happiness over the job offer to mean relief for Angel. She had wanted nothing but to be reunited with Claudia since Jeb first met her. Angel was going to be a free agent once and for all. Jeb figured that because she always fought him for his control over her, she’d be glad to be shed of him. She had to appreciate what he was doing not only for Claudia but for her, Willie, and Ida May. Most of the kids put out on the streets had it far worse. She knew that.

  She padded across the grass, holding two books, and still would not look at him.

  Ida May hugged the porch pillar. She erupted into convulsive sobs. It seemed she had stopped believing her sister was not going to leave her for good. Everyone, including Abigail and Fern, told her that Angel had to follow Claudia early on to help her get back on her feet. After Claudia could pay rent and keep up the grocery tab, then Ida May and Willie would join them in Norman. It had been said to death. Still, Ida May tailed Angel out of the house, lamenting like a kid thrown out on the street.

  Fern carried a few more of Angel’s things out, following her close behind. Jeb and Fern agreed they would drop Angel and her sister and kids off at the bus stop and then return for Willie and Ida May. Fern said good-bye to Donna Faye, but not Abigail. Abigail always cried, she said, not in a way to make her feel good, but to feel guilty. She would hold off on telling her mother good-bye until she was climbing into the Packard. That would be the end of it.

  Fern kept asking Angel about Claudia’s small bag of belongings.

  “It’s all—all she has,” said Angel. She sounded out of breath, sidetracked of course by the packing and trying to always keep an eye out for Claudia’s two. Thorne and John were delirious. Aunt Angel was their new savior.

  Fern folded up a few bills and told Angel, “Be sure Claudia buys food as soon as you land in Norman.”

  Jeb took all the folding money he brought for the trip, save what they needed to get home, and gave it to Claudia after breakfast.

  Claudia came onto the porch holding Thorne on her left hip. She gripped John by the forearm. He was fidgeting and tugging at his mother, pulling one way and then another until she finally let go of him. Freedom at last! He bolted for the open yard going after the ball left behind by Darrell. He kicked at it, but his short legs drove it only a foot or two.

  “I guess we’d better head out,” Angel said to Claudia. “Bus’ll be leaving in an hour.”

  Abigail looked out through the screen door. Her shoulders lifted, a sigh rushing out. She kept saying, “I hadn’t counted on Fern leaving so soon,” muttering how Tuesday should have meant that they would stay Tuesday night. The heat was all else she could talk about. She pushed the door open with her toe. “Here’s a bite to eat, both of you. Angel, Claudia, take this food along and give those kids a good meal on that bus ride.” The bag was oversized, a big woven hemp bag that Myrna used for her shopping. Myrna put in some peanuts, Abigail said, a half loaf of bread, already sliced, a small jar of jelly, two apples. Abigail listed every item out loud, explaining how the fried chicken was wrapped tightly in cheesecloth, plus a handful of coins thrown in for milk if they could buy it along the way.

  “I don’t know what to say,” said Angel. She kissed Abigail’s cheek and accepted the oversized lunch. She lugged it to the trunk and tucked it next to her suitcase. Fern walked beside her as they crossed the yard, Fern doing most of the talking.

  Angel whistled, came down on one knee, held out her arms, and took charge of John. Claudia looked mystified by her control over the boy. John took to her like she was his momma. Angel smiled, her eyes drinking him in, though heavy-lidded. The boy clambered up her like she was the best tree on the street. He wrapped his legs around her, slightly leaning back and head bowed, talking quietly about the ball he claimed for his own.

  Claudia sai
d, “Reverend, I never thought I’d see them all again and looking so good. You’ve done good by them and now by me. I’ll pay you back.”

  Her offer made Jeb ill at ease. Angel looked at him long enough that he could finally, by a nod of his head, direct her away from Claudia and her brood. Angel met him beside the front porch and freed John to streak back across the yard.

  “Don’t let things go too long,” said Jeb. He placed his hands on either side of her face. “What I mean is, Claudia may not notice things as fast as you. Fern is going to give you her telephone number. If you need help, you call.” Jeb kept holding her face so that she had to look at him and not cast her eyes away.

  “This seems like a dream, doesn’t it?” she asked.

  He didn’t know how to answer.

  “Jeb, I know I’ve carried on about finding my sister. It’s not what I expected,” said Angel. “Do you ever get what you expect?”

  Jeb turned his back to the others so no one else would hear. All she had to say was that she did not want to go. “You’ve never been one to hold back. Tell me what you want, Angel.”

  Angel looked at Fern and then at her sister. She never was a girl to let go of tears so easily, and this moment would be no different. She finally said, “For everyone to find their own life.” Her eyes drifted to the ground. “You have to find it with someone, though. You with Fern. Me, Willie, and Ida May with Claudia.” When she looked up again, she was pleading. “Tell me I’m right. It’s important.”

  He pulled out another bill from the dwindling roll and gave it to her.

  “You need that to get home,” she said.

  “I’ll make it home.”

  Angel wrapped her arms around Jeb and buried her face against him. She shook for a minute, and then a tear soaked into his shirt. Jeb kept patting the small of her back. Finally she let go of him. He gave her a handkerchief from his pocket to clean her eyes. She looked grown-up after that.