A Trashy Affair

by Shurr, Lynn

  “Jane, you are unemployed! I do love it, but you shouldn’t have spent the money,” her mother scolded.

  “I bought them before my job imploded. Enjoy.”

  “One more way back here,” Heath said. “No name on it.”

  “For Jane from me.” Merlin winced a little when he confessed that. He’d planned to be miles away by now, safe from any repercussions in his big-ass truck.

  Jane smiled at him as if the clumsy wrapping and the stick-on bow outshone every other gift she’d received. Then, she stripped off the paper and stared at the photographs, the one of her and Merlin staring into the fake sunset on top, then the apple blossom extravaganza, and the family grouping.

  He felt the need to explain. “Jane and me, we watch the sunset together most nights when it isn’t cloudy. My granny wanted her in the family picture and really liked those apple blossoms for some reason. I mean, I got different photos as gifts for the whole family like one of my mom and stepdad on a beach.” Brittney would be happy with her family picture that excluded Jane, he knew.

  “Well, pass them around, Jane,” her mother prompted. “Oh, my,” she said as the frames made their way from her hands to Ellen’s gnarled fingers.

  Merlin studied his boot toes. He knew what the Marshalls would see: his mother and sister in their cheap, inappropriate dresses, Harley with all his facial hair still looking like a biker even when he wore a suit, himself pawing their daughter with his big hands around her waist.

  Ellen studied one of the photos. “Heath, go into the library and put on my Andrews Sisters’ album. I want Apple Blossom Time.” As her grandson left the parlor, she confided. “He installed the sound system all by himself. We can get music in any room, even the bathroom, but Heath is the only one who can operate it.”

  Of course, the Marshalls had a library, probably crammed floor to ceiling with books, and a damned good sound system, too. The old sentimental song from the World War II era filled the air. “I’ll be with you in Apple Blossom Time. I’ll be with you to change your name to mine.” Ellen’s green eyes grew watery.

  “Clayton and I married during apple blossom time, the first one after he came home from the war. They played this at our reception.”

  Jane’s eyes misted over, too, but Kathleen let her tears flow and splash on her caftan turning the red brocade dark. “Our apple orchard where Roy and I married will soon be gone, uprooted for condos.”

  Helpless before so many emotional women, Merlin said, “I’m-uh…sorry?” not sure if he meant to sympathize with Jane’s mother or apologize for the damn picture that set them all off.

  Roy Marshall raised his wife and took her into his arms. “Don’t cry, my lovely. You have one more gift to open.” He took a flat packet from inside his flannel shirt.

  Kathleen dried her eyes against his shoulder. “What’s this?”

  “Open it and see.”

  “A deed?”

  “To our orchard. I convinced the owner to parcel out that piece of land for me. It’s too hilly for easy building. The trees are old but still produce. I thought we might open a cidery, plant some new trees, grow a small business as a hobby. The condo developer said he planned to call the street into the place Apple Blossom Lane and needed some real ones to back up the name.”

  “Roy Marshall, you are going to get some tonight!” Kathleen embraced her husband and placed a big kiss on his lips.

  Heath cringed, but Jane turned toward Merlin with her misty lake green eyes. “Isn’t this perfect?”

  “We should drive there after dinner and show the place to Merlin!” Jane’s mother exclaimed.

  “You know my hybrid won’t make it up that hill in this weather,” Roy said, shaking his head. “We’d have to dig Heath’s truck out.”

  Merlin, uncertain what he’d put in motion, parted the ecru lace curtain over the tall parlor window and checked the depth of the snow where his truck sat. Heath’s vehicle, a modest red single cab, some foreign brand, sat in the driveway up to its axles and capped with a foot of the white stuff, but he and Jane had arrived later in his jacked-up rig.

  “You want to go, I’ve got a truck can get you there, ma’am.”

  ****

  The women got busy in the kitchen and produced a full turkey dinner by 2:00 p.m. Naturally, the Marshalls did have a fancy dining room right next to that library. The huge mahogany table with twelve matching chairs and a massive sideboard wouldn’t fit in any normal-sized house. While a centerpiece of all natural greens, berries, and pinecones graced its center, the beeswax candles glowed in many branched silver candelabrums. At least the menu was familiar to Merlin, being nearly a duplicate of the one Jane prepared for him on Thanksgiving right down to the cranberry relish. No foie gras or snails in garlic butter like the rich might eat. He’d tried both once and didn’t much care for either.

  “Are you enjoying the turkey, Merlin? It’s wild game. We hung and marinated it in advance,” Kathleen said.

  “I know it died happy, ma’am,” he answered. All but a grinning Jane seated next to her grandmother across the table stared at his remark. “I mean being in the great outdoors and free until its last days.”

  “When I blew its head off,” Heath added. “No birdshot in this baby. Right, Dad?”

  “Yes, we both took the limit. Got a freezer full of them.”

  “They’re coming back in Louisiana, mostly in the north part of the state. I’d like another one of those tasty rolls. I’ll bet you made them yourself, Miss Kathleen.” Laying on the butter never hurt according to Jane.

  “Oh, you southern boys with your Ma’ams and Misses. Just call me Kathleen. I did make them from scratch and froze them for the occasion. We don’t like to be in the kitchen all day on Christmas. Your choice of fresh apple pie or real pumpkin from our own garden for dessert. Made them yesterday.”

  “I must have some of both.”

  “I do wish you could stay longer,” Jane’s grandmother said. “With the roads the way they are, you could drive Jane to her job interview in Billings. I’m so hopeful that she will soon live closer to us, and we’ll see her more often.”

  “What job interview? I thought we agreed you’d wait and see if the parish would rehire you come the New Year when the recycling program starts up again.” Merlin watched the guilt rise in the form of a blush on Jane’s face from directly across the table.

  Next to him, Heath bumped his elbow. “I talked to some people I knew in Billings to get her the interview. Pays more than any parish job. I’m fairly sure my sister will be moving to Montana shortly unless she gets a better offer.”

  Merlin took a moment to control his temper. When he spoke, he addressed Jane’s grandmother. “I’m sorry I won’t be here to do that favor for you, Miss Ellen. I have a three-day drive ahead of me, and I’m on duty flying as soon as I get back. She’ll have to call and let me know how that interview goes, yeah.” He shot one of his black glares at Jane, however.

  “Time for pie and coffee,” Kathleen said brightly. “Place your orders now. Merlin, I know what you want. How about the rest of you?”

  Everyone decided on small pieces of both. Jane and her mother carried in the plates holding the slices garnished with real whipped cream and a dash of cinnamon. Ellen poured coffee from a tall porcelain pot that matched the platinum-rimmed dinnerware and prepared each cup from the cream and sugar set.

  “My wedding china,” she told Merlin with a fond smile. “I’m going to leave it to Jane because she will never get any of her own.”

  “Because it’s conspicuous consumption, not because she won’t marry,” Kathleen hastened to add. “I certainly never had any.”

  After that exchange, the conversation died off. The men cleared the table with Merlin joining right in, but he spoke not a word. Afraid he would break or scratch something, he declined to help with the hand washing and drying of the fine china and silver, but offered to scrub the pots and pans and let the rest of the family digest their meal in the parlor.


  Jane stayed in the kitchen with him drying each one as he finished. “What’s wrong, Merlin? You haven’t used even one sexist endearment all day.”

  That forced a small smile from him. “So you miss it, sweet thang—or should I say ‘my goddess.’”

  “That’s Mom and Dad’s endearment, not ours.”

  “Oh, so we exchange endearments, but don’t mention major life changes like moving to Montana, huh?”

  “I knew you’d be upset and had no reason to tell you unless they offered me the job. I can’t keep living off you like some Fifties housewife because that is not who I am.”

  “Sure you can. You could cook and clean and have my babies and stay home.”

  Jane brandished a newly cleaned saucepan at his head. “Say that once more, Merlin Tauzin, and I’ll let you have it.”

  Obviously, she missed the joke. He twisted the pot from her hand and set it aside. “If we didn’t have a parlor full of people, I’d carry you upstairs and show you…” How much I love you, but he never got that part out before she verbally attacked.

  “Neanderthal!”

  Kathleen poked her head in the doorway. “Nearly ready to go to Apple Blossom Hill? Wait until you see how beautiful it is there, Merlin.” She’d changed into tan wool slacks, snow boots, and a long, brown knit tunic with gold embroidery around the neckline and hem, but obviously still rebelled against wearing a bra.

  “I’m ready tout de suite. Let me get my coat and keys.”

  “French, I love that!” Kathleen said as she led them from the kitchen.

  Merlin stalked to the ornate coat rack and shrugged into his peacoat. He checked the pockets for the keys and the small box, both still there. While reaching to retrieve his black watch cap, Ellen summoned him to the parlor. He tucked his hat in a pocket and went to see what she wanted.

  “Come here, dear boy. I’m not going along because I do fear falling, but you must learn to dress for the cold. Bend down.” When he complied, she wrapped the striped scarf around his neck several times and pulled the hat with the pompom down over his ears. “And don’t forget your mittens.”

  “No, ma’am.” He shoved them deep into the opposite pocket of his jacket figuring he could switch them out with his driving gloves in the truck.

  Wearing her long, red coat, fuzzy white mittens and a cap made of the same furry yarn with pompoms on the strings that tied beneath her chin, Jane appeared in the archway of the parlor. On her, the outfit looked cute, but she smirked a little at his appearance.

  “Heath shoveled a path to the truck. We should get going. It gets dark early here.”

  He didn’t want to look at himself in the mirror of the coat rack when he passed, so he kept his eyes on Jane. He knew the exact moment when she noticed his duffel by the door. She spun and faced him.

  “You were going to run out on me this morning! I can’t trust you to stay, and you have the gall to get that beak of a nose out of joint because I didn’t tell you about the job interview.” Jane stamped outside, slamming the door in his face so hard that when he opened it again, the large Christmas wreath lay on the porch.

  Merlin replaced the wreath on its hook and held the door for Kathleen and Roy to pass. The couple exchanged glances the way the long married often did—as if they could read each other’s minds. His grandparents used to do that kind of thing. Probably, he would never get to that point with Jane where they understood each other so well words weren’t needed. She should know why the job interview and her lack of faith in him mattered more than his going home early for her own good so as not to embarrass her in front of her family. He’d blown it with her again.

  As Merlin walked down the narrow path scooped in the snow to his truck, Heath mocked, “Looks like we’ve found Waldo,” referring to the picture book character given to wearing red and white stripes and a pompom cap.

  Merlin got right in his face. “I know a man named Waldo I truly despise. Never call me that again, you hear? It’s Merlin or Blackie and nothing else. Now get in the truck, Heathcliff.” He opened the doors.

  “Touchy,” Heath said.

  “You leave my brother alone.” Jane pointedly climbed into the backseat without assistance.

  Looking rather pleased, Heath joined her there. Roy lifted his short, round goddess inside and took the shotgun seat. He gave the directions going south out of town to an area where the earth lay disturbed under shallow drifts between stakes in the ground marking out the plats of the new condos. A steep hill without a road rose directly behind the graded area. The twisted black trunks of old apple trees spread out in even rows, their branches so coated with snow they might have been in bloom.

  “Want me to take you to the top, because I could do that,” Merlin offered.

  “No. We should get out and walk to spare the roots of the trees. Jane knows where we’re going,” Kathleen told him.

  As soon as he unlocked the doors, Jane and Heath got down and raced off nimble as arctic hares. Their warm breath sent white plumes into the air as they ran. Merlin started after them, but Kathleen held him back.

  “I’m going to need some help getting up there. It’s icy, and I don’t want to break a hip anymore than my mother does. Gentlemen.” She hooked one arm around her husband’s elbow and snagged Merlin with the other. They set off at a sedate pace.

  “Talk to him, Roy.”

  “Son, we know you’re brave. You proved that by serving your country. But, there is also emotional courage. Sometimes, you just have to put yourself out there and say what’s on your mind.”

  “Even when a woman just told you off?”

  “Oh hell, yes. How do you think I got Kathy to marry me? She was screaming at me about raping the earth with my oil wells, and I got on my knees and said we might have different opinions on that issue, but I knew we loved each other and could make it work.”

  “And we have,” Kathleen added.

  “I have to say marrying a very opinionated woman will change you,” Roy continued.

  “For the better,” his wife said.

  “You don’t have to tell me that. I already noticed. Are you saying I have your blessing?”

  “We’re saying go for it. Go, go, go.” Kathleen dropped Merlin’s arm and gave him a little shove forward toward the spot where Jane and her brother waited by the biggest tree with a long, low spread of branches in the center of the frozen orchard. “That’s where we were married. I can’t think of a better place.”

  Merlin strode forward. He shed the absurd hat, stuffed it in his pocket with the mittens, and replaced it with his black watch cap. Unwinding the scarf, he shoved that inside his coat. When he took his chance, he did not intend to look like Waldo, any Waldo. Reaching Jane, he dropped to his knees as suddenly as a hawk stooping from the sky above and grasped her hand in its fuzzy, white mitten.

  “Jane Marshall, will you marry me? I love you and never want to be without you for the rest of my life. I know I’m not good enough, but have mercy.” He took the deep blue velvet box from his pocket, flicked it open, and offered her the ring he’d carried for two weeks, unable to find the right time or the right words to present it. He believed the first part of the proposal went well, but wasn’t sure about the rest. Too bad because that was how he felt—unworthy and at her mercy.

  Jane’s other hand flew to her mouth, then fluttered in the air. “Oh, get up, get up. It must be ten degrees out here. You’ll freeze to the ground, and your jeans aren’t lined. I’m wearing mittens. How can I be wearing a pair of Gran’s mittens at a time like this? I didn’t expect a proposal, not now, not at all!”

  Still clutching her hand and completely perplexed, Merlin rose slowly. “Is that a no or a yes? Should I put this away?” He offered her the ring again.

  Jane pulled off a mitten with her teeth and held out her ring finger. Her dad got a picture on his digital camera just before she remembered to spit out the mitten and say, “Yes, oh yes!”

  That one would make the family album whether s
he liked it or not. The most embarrassing photos always did, but Roy took another of Merlin placing the ring on Jane’s finger and kissing her before the backdrop of real apple trees lacy with snow. He made them pose again in the same stance as the fake apple blossom picture and then another gazing outward down the valley with Merlin’s arm around Jane’s shoulder.

  There might have been more poses, but Heath began to complain, “Dad, it is cold as a witch’s tit out here. Can we go now?”

  “For shame, Heath Cliff Marshall. Some of my best friends are witches, very nice ones, though I don’t go in for that sort of thing myself,” Kathleen reprimanded him.

  “Sorry, Mom. Still freezing. The sun is getting low.”

  Reluctantly, Jane covered her hands with her mittens. Merlin fished out the scarf, wrapped it around his neck and the lower half of his face, grateful for its warmth if not for its style. Kathleen claimed both her husband and Merlin to assist her again as the way had grown icier and more tricky going down. Heath and Jane went ahead. Over his wife’s head, Roy whispered to his son-in-law to be, “If Jane takes after her mother you will never be disappointed in bed.”

  “I heard that. My silver wolf is absolutely right,” Kathleen agreed. Merlin nodded and did not let on what he already knew.

  Back at the house, Jane immediately ran to show her grandmother the ring. “Most unusual,” Ellen said as if she might have preferred something more traditional.

  Merlin took Jane’s hand and displayed the ring. “Mr. LeClerc designed it for me. The center diamond isn’t very big, but it is perfect and old, so the cut has more sparkle than most today, the jeweler told me. It belonged to my Granny. She gave it to me after she met Jane and claimed she couldn’t get the ring over her knuckle anymore. I should give it to my bride someday.”

  “I do understand that.” Ellen gazed down on the swollen joints of her own ringless hands. “I’ll save mine for Heath.”

  “Shouldn’t she have passed it along to your mother or Brittney?” Jane said with just a twinge of guilt.