At Last (The Idle Point, Maine Stories)

by Bretton, Barbara

  "You could have a kitten if you want," Laquita said.

  Gracie's heart beat so fast that it hurt. "Really?"

  "Sure. You can pick which ever you want."

  Gracie knew right away which kitten was the right one: the little white-and-grey one sitting alone in the corner of the box, looking like Gracie felt sometimes.

  "He's so tiny!" She cradled the kitten against her chest. "His eyes are all wet. Does he have a cold?"

  Laquita didn't know and neither did Noah.

  But that was okay. Gracie would keep the kitten cozy and dry. She would feed him warm milk from a teaspoon and sneak him scraps from her dinner the way the children in her storybooks cared for stray cats. She would make him all better and love him and take care of him just like her mother would have cared for her if God hadn't called her back to heaven.

  Chapter Three

  Gracie wasn't the prettiest little girl on stage or the most talented. Ben Taylor didn't want to notice that but he couldn't help it. She had never captured all of his heart, not since those heady first weeks after her birth when he'd still believed in miracles. He sat in the third row of the Idle Point Elementary School auditorium on the Friday before Christmas and watched as Gracie, dressed in shepherd's robes and carrying a staff, looked up toward the sky. "Behold!" she said in a clear, sweet voice. "A star rises in the east!"

  It seemed to Ben that she'd been a baby the last time he'd looked at her. He turned away for just a moment and the baby was gone, replaced by the child who stood before him. He'd spent most of her life swimming through a sea of booze, doing everything he could to blunt the sharp bite of pain that followed him through his days. She was so quiet around the house that he sometimes forgot she was there, a little mouse who spent her time with her nose in a book. He'd thought she was looking at the pictures but Del said she'd been reading for almost a year.

  He wasn't one for books. He'd rather work with his hands. Back in the early years of his marriage to Mona, he'd always had five or six projects in the works at any one time. Cupboards for her collections, toy boxes for the family they were trying to start. As the years went on and the children didn't arrive, he spent more time on cabinetry, more time away from the house and the pain that seemed to be everywhere.

  Then one day in the twentieth year of their marriage, Mona told him she was pregnant. From the ashes of their dreams, they had their miracle. Six months later, Graciela Marie Taylor was pushed kicking and screaming from the world of angels and into his heart. She has your eyes, Mona said, and oh how he'd wanted to believe that. Everyone in town wondered about the truth. He saw it on their faces when he shot the breeze with the folks down at the coffee shop next door to the Gazette. He saw it every time Simon Chase walked by.

  He'd been working on a cradle for baby Gracie the day the accident happened. He and Mona had been talking about what kind of stain he should use on the wood just before she kissed him goodbye. If he closed his eyes he could see her as she'd been, lush and womanly with that sweet face and those big dark eyes that turned men into fools. He was no exception. He'd loved her enough to forgive her. He'd loved her enough to stop asking questions. The one thing he hadn't been able to do was love her enough to let her go.

  She was taking the baby to the pediatrician for a booster shot of some kind. "Don't forget to buy milk," he had said to her as she went out the door. His last words to her. Don't forget to buy milk.

  The chief of police, Joe Winthrop, had broken the news to him. Ben had been cleaning some paintbrushes in a mayonnaise jar filled with turpentine when he heard Joe's squad car crunching across the gravel driveway. He'd laid the brushes down on top of some newspaper, wiped his hands on the sides of his pants, and stepped out of the garage to see what Joe wanted. It was unusually hot that day in Idle Point. He'd never seen a May as hot as this one. They all said it was going to be a wicked summer. The sun was high in the sky and he shielded his eyes with the back of his hand. His skin smelled like turpentine. He still remembered that fact. Even when he couldn't remember his own name, he remembered the dizzying smell of turpentine.

  "What brings you out this way, Joe?" he asked, moving toward him. "Is it lunchtime already?" Mona had said she and the baby would be home by noon. He glanced up. The sun was directly overhead but leaning westward. "You're mighty quiet today."

  Joe's face seemed to fall in on itself. "Jesus," Joe said and his voice cracked on the word, tore itself right in two. "Jesus, Ben, I—"

  Mona's purse, the straw one with the leather cords. Joe was holding Mona's purse in his hand.

  "I'm sorry," Joe said. Those were the last words Ben remembered for a very long time.

  He viewed the rest of it as if it had happened to someone else. The crushing pain of those first few days came close to killing him. A part of him wished it had. He wouldn't talk about a funeral, wouldn't let them start digging a grave at the old cemetery behind the church, wouldn't even care for his own daughter. The talk swirled all around him, white-hot and ugly. Mona was leaving him... somebody saw her at the outskirts of town... she had a suitcase all packed and in the trunk... poor Ben... poor poor little Gracie...

  He curled himself around a bottle of Scotch they kept in the cupboard above the refrigerator and he tried to drink himself into oblivion.

  He'd been working on that steadily ever since.

  "Don't look now," said his mother Del when the show ended and they were waiting for Gracie, "but here comes trouble."

  He turned his head in the direction Del indicated and saw Nora Fahey gliding toward them. Nora was a good-looking woman if you liked them racehorse lean and edgy. She had long dark blond hair parted in the middle, tucked behind ears that sported long dangly silver earrings. She wore a fisherman's sweater, a long gauzy skirt, and a denim jacket that looked like it had belonged to somebody else. He and Nora had been sleeping together since the night back in October when they hooked up at Rusty's over a game of eight ball. She taught art at the high school, owned six cats, and was looking to get married. He'd made two mistakes since Mona's death and he wasn't looking to make a third but sometimes not even booze could ease the ache inside his heart. He'd been sober since Thanksgiving and was trying hard to make it to the New Year. He didn't want to rush into anything, not this time. He was getting close to fifty and the mistakes were harder to undo.

  The thing about being sober was that it made you see things you didn't want to see. Booze was a cloud of forgiveness between you and everything ugly. Booze was better than the confessional. It absolved your sins before you even had the chance to commit them.

  Sober, he had to face up to the fact that he was flushing his life down the toilet. Taylor Construction was a joke. A name on the door of a truck. If he fielded six calls a year, that was cause for celebration. Add to that the fact that the kid needed a mother and Del needed to quit working for those bastards on the hill and you had a life pretty well fucked up beyond repair.

  Nora kissed him lightly then said hello to Del. His mother, never one for small talk, turned away.

  "Gracie was wonderful," Nora said, linking her arm through his.

  He nodded. "Came as a surprise to me." So did the fact that she was growing up.

  "Why don't the three of you come back to my place for hot chocolate?" Nora suggested. He knew what this meant, bringing his mother and Gracie to Nora's place.

  Nora was thirty-eight years old, divorced, and lonely. She was also soft and kind and womanly and he ached for all of that and more.

  He was forty-seven, widowed, and going down for the count. He did the only thing he knew how to do. He said yes.

  #

  Mrs. Cavanaugh made sure all the costumes had been collected before she gave out the Christmas cards and candy. Gracie and Noah waited their turns with Laquita and Mary Ellen. Don and Tim were always first on line and they tried to grab two bags each when Mrs. Cavanaugh wasn't looking but she put a stop to it. Gracie didn't mind so much because she knew that the two brothers didn't always g
et as much to eat as the rest of them did. Besides, the longer it took to reach the front of the line, the longer the night would last.

  She loved the way the auditorium looked with the bright red and green Christmas decorations and the big tree in the corner of their classroom. She loved dressing up in her shepherd's costume and stepping right up to the front of the stage when it was her turn to say her lines. For a moment she was so scared she didn't think she'd be able to push out the words but then, like magic, something happened and she wasn't Gracie Taylor any more but a real-life shepherd in Bethlehem, heralding the magical star in the first Christmas sky. At first she didn't see Daddy and Gramma Del in the audience but then all of a sudden her eyes landed right on them and she was so happy she thought her heart would burst. Gramma Del blotted at her eyes with a handkerchief and Daddy smiled at her in a way he hadn't smiled in a long, long time. She saw Nora Fahey sitting alone near the back and she wondered if Miss Fahey wasn't speaking to Daddy any more. That happened a lot.

  If only he could marry someone like Noah's mommy. The thought made her feel all dreamy and sad at the same time. Why couldn't Daddy find a wife who actually liked little girls.

  "Merry Christmas, Graciela." Mrs. Cavanaugh handed her a small bag of hard candies and a Christmas card. Gracie ducked her head and mumbled thank you then ran over to where the rest of the kids were trading for their favorite flavors. She knew she couldn't stay much longer. Gramma Del and Daddy were waiting for her outside and Daddy always got mad when Gracie dawdled. She had to admit it had been better lately. He didn't smell like beer anymore and he was always awake when she and Gramma Del came home at night. Once he'd even started the meatloaf heating up in the oven and set the table. Gramma Del said he wasn't to go patting himself on the back for doing what needed to be done but Gracie could see it made her very happy.

  The last few weeks had been the very best in Gracie's short life. She still loved school and it showed. When Mrs. Cavanaugh opened the Christmas mailbox yesterday afternoon, Gracie had more cards than anybody but Noah. Every time Mrs. Cavanaugh called her name, she felt her heart swell with happiness. Noah turned bright red when he opened the card Gracie had made for him. Gramma Del had helped her cut green construction paper in the shape of a Christmas tree and she'd decorated it with gold and red and silver stars from the 5 & 10 then written "Merry Xmas Noah Love Gracie" along the bottom. He'd bought her a real Hallmark card from the drug store near the Gazette and signed it "With Love Noah." He'd made a mistake on the word "Noah" and had to cross it out and write it again. She promised she would keep the card forever and ever.

  Laquita's mommy showed up in the doorway with the new baby in her arms and said it was time for them to go. Don and Tim had already left. So had most of the other kids. Finally Mrs. Cavanaugh said it was time for her to close up and that they shouldn't keep their parents waiting any longer so Noah and Gracie put on their coats and mittens and started for the front door. They were halfway there when Mrs. Chase appeared, looking just like an angel from a Christmas card. Her blond hair looked like a halo and she wore a white wool coat and a soft white scarf around her neck. The scarf twinkled with little gold stars that matched the sparkly gold star pinned to her collar. When she bent down to say hello to Gracie, Gracie reached up and touched her cheek with a mittened hand. Mrs. Chase laughed softly then gathered Gracie close to her in a hug that smelled like cinnamon and chocolate. A mommy smell that made Gracie bury her head deep into the soft folds of her coat and wish she could stay there forever.

  "I'm so glad I found you, Gracie," she said while Noah looked on. "We have a gift for you." She reached into the leather bag slung over her arm and pulled out a package wrapped in shiny red paper and tied with a big green and gold bow.

  Gracie immediately tried to pull off the ribbons but Mrs. Chase stopped her.

  "No, no," she said. "I want you to wait until Christmas morning."

  Gracie promised but in her heart she knew that the second she was in the back seat of Daddy's truck she wouldn't be able to resist. Mrs. Chase turned to talk to Mrs. Cavanaugh who had joined them while Gracie and Noah made faces at the teacher's back. The best thing about Noah was the way he could be just as silly as the rest of them. They were just about to take off their boots and play skating rink in the hallway when Gramma Del's voice sounded.

  "Graci-EL-a! You come out here this instant."

  Gracie's heart sank. Gramma Del sounded like she was in one of her moods which meant that she'd had a fight with Daddy or knew that Gracie was in here with Noah and his mommy.

  "Uh oh," she said to Noah then grabbed her Christmas presents and card and ran toward the door.

  "Hurry up with you," Gramma said, taking her hand. "We're going to Nora Fahey's for hot chocolate, whether we like it or not."

  Gracie didn't much like Nora Fahey but Nora had a lot of cats and that almost made up for the fact that she would probably end up marrying Gracie's daddy. Ever since Sam the kitten had come to live with her, Gracie had been a lot less lonely. Sam shared everything with her. He sat on her lap when she watched cartoons and slept with his tiny head on her pillow at night. She told Sam all of her secrets and most of her dreams. Gramma Del hadn't been very happy when she saw Sam peeking out of Gracie's coat pocket the day Laquita's sister Cheyenne was born but after Mrs. Chase put in a word, Gramma came around. She told Gracie she could keep Sam as long as the kitten stayed in her room and didn't get underfoot. "That's a lot of responsibility for a little girl," Noah's mommy had said to her. "Are you sure you can take good care of your kitty?"

  Gracie swore to her on a stack of bibles that she would.

  Every day after school Noah's mommy asked her about Sam the Cat. "Gracie, I was reading about cats last night in the newspaper. Did you know that chocolate is very bad for them...cats love fresh drinking water... did you know that, Gracie... you must keep the litter box clean or Sam will look for someplace else..." Gracie tried to remember all of the things Mrs. Chase told her by writing down some of the words in the notebook she carried to school every day but she didn't know how to spell all of them.

  Mrs. Chase was Noah's mommy but she seemed to love Gracie too—at least a little. Mrs. Chase had a special smile for Gracie that made her feel special. And now this present proved it! Gracie settled into the back seat of the truck and started to slide the ribbons off the package as soon as Daddy started to drive away.

  "What are you doing?" Daddy asked as the sound of ripping paper filled the truck.

  "Nothing," Gracie said.

  "She's opening a present," Gramma Del said. "That Mrs. Cavanaugh was mighty generous. Candy and a gift."

  "Ooooh!" Gracie's heart almost burst through her chest. "Gramma, look!" She pulled the sweater out of the box and rubbed it gently against her cheek. The wool was cool and soft and it smelled like cinnamon and chocolate, just like Noah's mommy. "A mommy sweater," she whispered. Her very own mommy sweater, just like all the other kids in school had, one of the special kind that hung proudly in the coatroom.

  Gramma Del leaned over and inspected the sweater. Her fingers poked at the fine stitches and tugged at one of the pearly white buttons. "Your teacher made you this sweater?" She looked like she didn't believe such a thing was possible.

  Gracie knew Gramma Del wasn't going to like the answer but she'd been taught to tell the truth.

  "It isn't from Mrs. Cavanaugh," Gracie said proudly. "It's from Noah's mommy."

  "What did you say, Graciela?" That was Daddy from the front seat and he didn't sound happy.

  Gracie hung onto the sweater and she didn't say a word.

  "I asked you a question, Graciela."

  Gramma Del poked her, but Gracie wasn't talking.

  "Mrs. Chase gave your daughter a sweater," Gramma Del said in a voice Gracie had never heard before. It sounded like glass breaking.

  "Son of a bitch!" Daddy screeched the truck to a stop and Gracie closed her eyes as it fishtailed wildly across the icy road. Daddy hadn't been like this
in a long time and it scared her. He turned around in his seat and looked at Gracie. "Let me see that sweater."

  She clung to it more tightly. "It's mine."

  Gramma Del poked her again. "Let your daddy see it."

  "No," Gracie said. "Noah's mommy gave it to me. It's mine."

  "The hell it is." Ben leaned over the back of his seat and snatched the sweater from Gracie who let out a high keening wail. He gunned the engine and started back in the opposite direction.

  "Where are we going?" Gramma Del asked. She sounded as scared as Gracie felt.

  "Where the hell do you think we're going?" he shot back. "We're going to return that goddamn sweater."

  #

  Ruth was just about to serve the cake and cookies when the doorbell rang. She put down the tray, carefully wiped her hands on a linen dishtowel, and moved swiftly through the long hallway toward the front door. She heard Simon entertaining their guests in the front room with stories about Noah's tour de force appearance as Joseph in tonight's Christmas pageant at the school. She smiled at the note of justifiable pride in his voice. Noah was the light of his father's life, the reason he got up in the morning, the reason for the long hours spent at the Gazette, building a future for the boy who would carry on his name.

  She wouldn't dwell on the dark years before Noah. What was done, was done. They were a family now and nothing would ever change that. Out of terrible pain had come their greatest pleasure and Ruth believed it had been worth every year of struggle.

  He was such a popular little boy. It made her heart sing to watch the way the other children seemed to flock to him. He was a natural leader. Anyone could see that. She probably shouldn't have singled out Gracie Taylor the way she had, but she told herself nobody had seen her hand the gaily-wrapped package to the little girl. There was something so touching about Gracie. She clung to Ruth's hand each afternoon as if she never wanted to let go. The poor thing was starved for a mother's love and Ruth felt guilty for every day of happiness she had been afforded. Her own life had been restored to her the day Mona Taylor died, but at such a terrible cost to the child.