by Lisa Samson
“He’s calling Friday night.”
“Well then, God doesn’t have much time, does He?” I felt strange as the next words, foreign, slipped out of my mouth. “I’ll be praying for you, Lark.”
She looked at me quizzically and shook her head as though releasing marbles that had stuck together in a pile inside her brain, and then a smile stretched her lips, and I caught my breath. She looked so beautiful to me just then.
Now you may think this is all just a little too neat. Mother and daughter learn to get along. And isn’t that just so nice? But I do believe the world deserves to know that sometimes God is afoot and He’s able to heal broken hearts, bind wounds, and breathe new life into deadened souls who walked the lonely halls of their own making. And He can do it without cardiac arrests or big car accidents. Sometimes our most defining moments are the most still.
And I am thankful.
Now, the question remains, what is next for the women at Greenway? Change dances in the air. I feel it in my old bones, and for the first time in years I find myself extremely excited.
Flannery
“YOU BRING THE LICENSE?” I ask as James and his parents slip into the back door of the house at 10 A.M. Friday. “Hi, Mom.” I kiss Anne’s cheek.
“I did.”
“Oh, hon,” Anne says. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks for the phone call.”
“Just wanted to reassure you.” She turns to Lou. “Didn’t we, Lou?”
“Heck, Anne. Sure.” Mr. Smith leans forward and hugs me, with lots of pats on my shoulder blades.
Prisma paddles over, handkerchief at the ready. “The living room is all set. The flowers arrived as directed at seven this morning. Father Charlie is here, and so is Marsha.”
“Cool.” I just can’t believe this! I want to scream like the girls in Clueless. “Are Mom and Grandy dressed?”
“They are and mad as hornets,” Prisma says. “Your grandmother says, ‘Why on earth am I lying on this hospital bed in the den in a silk suit?’ And I’m doing my best to look like the Cheshire Cat and feeling like a fool! I still don’t know why you had to make this a surprise wedding, Flannery. Sometimes you can be the strangest child!”
We all laugh.
Prisma tucks something white inside my hand. “This was your grandmother’s wedding hanky.”
“But it looks like a baby hat.”
“It sure does. I made it into one. Your mother wore that home from the hospital. Wrap it around the handle of your bouquet and remember that family means everything, Baby Girl.” Prisma waves her hanky, then smiles. “Okay, I’ll bring in those two.”
“How’s Mom?” I ask.
“Mystified and uncomfortable.”
“That’s pretty much par for the course, isn’t it, Miss Prisma?”
Father Charlie and Marsha tiptoe into the kitchen, hug me and James and everybody with a pulse, and wait for the cue.
Prisma takes her cue. “Pray for me. This one is going to be a stretch.”
We hear her take on her tasks through the flip-flop door.
“Come on, baby. I just want you to go sit at the organ and play some Bach. Give your poor sick Mama a concert. That should cheer her up.”
Mom mumbles something, which is a shame because I love to eavesdrop.
“I’m not asking you to drive a bus down I-95, Lark. I just want you to play a little Bach!”
“Mumble, mumble … sheesh, Prisma!”
“Well, all right then!”
Go, Miss Prisma!
Soon the strains of a fugue or something blow out of the pipe organ. I arrange my ecru, gauzy gown that I found in an antique store and smell the small bouquet of larkspur and daisies.
James grabs my hand and squeezes.
I don’t know how Prisma accomplished the next feat of mountain moving, but somehow she got Grandy in there because she pokes her head in the flip-flop door and says, “They’re ready. Now just hold on a minute while I get your mother to play ‘The Wedding March.’ ”
“ ‘The Wedding March’? Miss Prisma you’re good, but you’re not that good.”
“Oh, you just watch and see, Baby Girl!”
Sure enough, the fugue stops. I open the flip-flop door and hear Mom say, “What on earth for, Prisma?”
“Just because I like it! Does the woman who’s cooked and cleaned for years around here need any other reason than that?”
Whoa. She sure used up all her chips on that one!
And then the strains begin. I’d say tenderly and beautifully, but Mom is attacking the keyboard, a loud staccato sound coming from the pipes. It sounds horrible.
We all laugh as we file out of the kitchen and into the living room.
Leslie
OH, MY UTTER CONFOUNDED STARS! That Child!
I should have been furious, but she looked so beautiful, like a fairy princess bride. Prisma handed me an extra hanky she had tucked in the pocket of that striped dress of hers.
Thank goodness she made me change into that outfit and put on a little makeup. Larkspur looked nice sitting there at the organ, banging away, oblivious for the first few seconds.
Prisma cleared her throat and then walked over and tapped Lark on the shoulder. “Look around, but don’t stop playing.”
So Lark did exactly the opposite. And there stood Sweet Pea, with that bouquet and a wreath of flowers around her head and the most gorgeous pair of little antique boots. Her dark curls spilled over the flowers, and the sunlight shone along them.
Of course, Larkspur stopped playing right away and ran over to her. I do believe I saw all the questions play across her face as she discarded them one by one. You see I knew what the questions were because I asked them myself.
A surprise wedding?
Are you sure about this?
Do you love him?
Does he love you?
Why now?
Aren’t you rushing things?
Are you making the same mistake I did?
Are you PREGNANT?
Oh, Flannery, are you sure about this?
And her eyes darted over to James and to his parents, who beamed and shone like the steady suburbanites they were. And her eyes darted over to me, and I gave a shrug and a smile and an “it’s okay” nod all at once. Or I tried to anyway.
Flannery
I SAY, “I DO”; HE SAYS, “I DO”; AND WELL, WE DO!
We are getting married! And we hold on tightly the entire time.
Mom stands behind me holding back tears, and just before the vows I say, “Father Charlie, hold on a minute.”
“Sure, Flannery.”
I turn and take Mom’s hand. “Excuse me, everyone. I’ll be just a minute.”
James taps my shoulder, leans down, and whispers in my ear. “Good going, babe. I’m not going anywhere.” Then he stands back up to his full height. “Marsha, how about an a cappella version of …”
“ ‘Oh, Promise Me’!” Anne Smith says. “I love that one.”
“Good idea.”
I wink at Grandy there on the couch as I lead a very pale mother to sit with me on the steps out in the foyer. Marsha’s clear strains follow us.
“I know you’re probably mad at me, Mom.”
“Not mad. Just confused. Why couldn’t you tell me?”
I hold both her hands now. “Are you happy for me?”
“If you love him and if he’s good to you, I am.”
“Well I do, and he is.”
“Are you pregnant?”
“No! Mother!”
And the left corner of her mouth creeps up. “Have you …?”
“No!”
Her chest deflates, and her eyes close. And she says nothing.
“Mom, do you really, honestly feel you would have been up to all this at this time in your life?”
She shakes her head. And I notice how pretty she looks in that pink dress Grandy bought me. “Your makeup looks nice, Mom.”
“I’m sorry I’m never there f
or you, Flannery. I wasn’t even at the house with you when it caught fire.”
I decide to do something seemingly cruel. “Mom, let’s make this day about me and not about you, okay?”
Her eyes tear up. “Is that why you did this?”
And I nod. I hadn’t really known exactly why I was compelled to do this until that moment.
She rests her hand on my cheek, pulls my face forward, and kisses me on the mouth like she used to do. “I’m sorry, Flannery.”
Some kids are raised, and others just grow up.
“Mom, it’s a day for joy. Let’s just be happy today. That’s all I want from you. Make it my wedding present, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Now, walk me back in. We’ll pretend it’s the processional all over again, the way it should have been if we were a normal sort of family.”
That makes her laugh, and I am glad.
PRISMA
“IT’S DONE! WE DID IT!” that James boy hollered and held up a victorious fist.
The Smiths cheered, and I clapped, and Mrs. Summerville jumped to her feet. Even Lark got into the swing of things, and soon with James and Baby Girl in the middle we made up a big huddle of jiggling and patting arms there in the middle of the living room floor.
Flannery yelled. “Love you, Mom. Love you, New Mom and Dad!”
“Love you, Flannery!” Anne yelled. “Don’t we, Lou?”
“Sure, Anne.” Only Lou doesn’t yell.
And James kissed Baby Girl, and we cheered some more, and the huddle broke off its appendages one by one. What a morning!
James grinned, and I do have to say there is a real charm about the boy. “Well, guys, we’re off to our one-day honeymoon.”
“You sure it’s safe to go on that skipjack?” Anne Smith asks.
“I sure am. Mom, I’ve been on boats for years, you know that.”
Anne raised her hands in easy defense and turned to Lark. “A mother never stops worrying, does she, Lark?”
“No, I guess you’re right.”
Then Lark pulled Baby Girl into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry,” I heard her whisper because I still have ears like a bat.
“No, Mom. It’s okay.”
“I promise to try harder.”
“It’s okay.”
“You’ll see a real change when you get back.”
Flannery kissed her cheek and pulled away, entwining her arm in James’s.
Oh, Baby, Baby, Baby Girl. Be free! Just go on and forget about all this. Slough off those scales. Be your butterfly self.
Flannery
AND OFF WE GO! We sail out far into the Chesapeake Bay, and I give myself to James, and he gives himself to me. And it’s that simple and that right. That evening, about three times later, a wonderful meal and a walk by the lighthouse, a sorrow for my mother quiets me, for all she has lost. And I vow to lick every square centimeter of this wonderful bowl God has placed me inside of, because I know that some things aren’t forever. Please, God, let this be, I pray as James puts his arm around me there by the water. Please let us grow old together, forever and ever. Amen.
Lark
I COULDN’T TELL BRAD ABOUT THE WEDDING because he didn’t deserve to know, and even thinking about it reduced me to a blubbering mass. “Honestly, Brad. She left this morning and isn’t back yet. She won’t be back home until tomorrow.”
“Come on, babe, you said you’d do it by the end of the week.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Look, Lark, I have this feeling you’re not going to tell her without some help.”
“No! That’s not true. I will!”
“I’m coming to Baltimore on Sunday.”
“Oh, come on, Bradley. Please!”
“I’ve got to.”
For some strange reason I began seeing things from his perspective. But he still upset me. “I guess once again I don’t have a choice.”
“Yes, you did. Past tense.”
What could I say to that except, “You said you wouldn’t force it, but you did, Bradley. You said you wouldn’t up and surprise her.” The silence stretched from here to California. And Bradley’s voice became tender. “Lark. Please. It’s time to mend things. Please.”
“But why now? Things are starting to shape up for me.”
“And they’ll go even better with a clean slate.”
Gosh, I hated his logic.
The truth will set you free.
There is no fear in love.
“Okay, Sunday then. Call me when you get into town.”
“Oh no, babe. I’ll see you on Greenway at 7 P.M.”
I sure was glad Mother was praying. Because only God could work within the parameters of Bradley del Champ’s timing. “I’ve got to go, Bradley.”
“You playing tonight?”
“Practicing with Marsha. And I’ve got a wedding to play for Saturday afternoon. At a different church than St. Dominic’s.” I could hardly believe I’d accepted the job. “You’re doing good, Lark.”
I sighed. “Well, let’s hope you don’t come along and change all that.”
That night I wore a mint green dress I found in Mother’s old stuff. Good old Johnny sat at the back of the church listening to us practice, and the dream I dared to dream had not one chance of coming true.
I cried myself to sleep, womanly regrets filling me with such pain, such a heavy pain only tears could break it apart.
PRISMA
WHEN I SAW MRS. SUMMERVILLE standing at the door to my room, I couldn’t believe it. “Are you okay, Mrs. Summerville?”
“Never better, Prisma.”
Still weak, truth be told, but improving every day. Almost two weeks from the surgery, and my goodness, her color is positively pink again!
And she swears she’s still knitting on the same sweater she’s been working on since the beginning of the summer. But I know better. This one sports a rolled collar, the other a mock turtle.
“Is there something you need?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact there is. I want you to tell me all you know about Days of Summer.”
I laughed. “Well, that’s quite a bit.”
“Then we’ll need to get started right away.”
Bittersweet, yes ma’am, bittersweet.
One by one they are throwing me into obsolescence.
Well, I’d better make the most of it. “Come on over to the computer. First thing I’ll do is take you on our Web site.”
Her fine brows arched even further. “We have a Web site?”
“We sure do. Snazzy, too.”
“My stars.”
“Here, sit in my desk chair. It’s more comfy. I’ll get a chair from the kitchen.”
Two hours later, I stopped the tutoring session. “You’re exhausted, Mrs. Summerville. Let’s get you into your den, and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.”
“Make us a nice cup of tea, Prisma. I have a thousand more questions.”
“You Summervilles,” I said. “You don’t know when to quit!”
“You got that right,” she said with a smirk.
I hooted a laugh and clapped my hands.
She stood to her feet, gathered her cane, and walked on her own into the den. “You won’t be needing that thing much longer,” I called as I put some water in the kettle.
“Let’s hope not.”
Actually, the longer it takes, the longer I have here at Greenway. I’m apprehensive about the next stage of my life, but I called my son after Leslie went to bed, and I told him to start looking for sweet little white houses, front porches, and picket fences for me.
“We can add on the fence and the porch if we need to, Mama.”
“I want a front porch and a picket fence before I move in and no trees outside my bedroom window, Son.”
He didn’t ask why, only said, “I’ll take care of everything.”
How many times have I uttered those words myself?
I looked out at my stars last night and said, “J
esus, I’m sure glad You are with us wherever we go.”
“I sure am, My girl.”
You see, Jesus loves me. This I know. And not just because the Bible tells me so. He’s been guiding me each step of the way for a lot of years now, and He’s never steered me wrong.
Fear not, for lo! I am with You always.
I couldn’t wait to hear about the honeymoon!
Leslie
“NEWLY?”
“Mother! How are you feeling?”
“Fine. I’m sure Flannery invited you to the surprise wedding, didn’t she?”
He sighed. “She called me Thursday and left a message. I was already on a flight to Boston.”
“All right. I can handle that excuse.”
“Besides, I’m not ready to face Lark yet.”
“Why, Newly?”
“Honestly, Mother, I don’t quite know. I feel so sorry for her I’m afraid my pity will show, and she’ll get her hackles up.”
“Oh, so it’s for her dignity.”
“In a way.”
“Fiddle.”
“Fiddle?”
“Yes, fiddle, Newly. We don’t pull away from people to preserve their dignity. That makes no sense.”
“I beg your pardon? I learned that from you.”
“Well, it didn’t make sense then, and it doesn’t make sense now. It just took me awhile to realize how important it is to involve yourself in the lives of the people you love.”
He chuckled. “You are something, Leslie Summerville.”
“Yes, I am. And don’t you forget it. Now, you’re coming for Thanksgiving this year, and that’s that.”
“Right then. Can I bring someone with me?”
“That girlfriend Sweet Pea told me about?”
“Precisely.”
“Do you want to tell me about her?”
And to my supreme shock and amazement, Newly did. She waits tables in the lunchroom in the lobby of his building.
“She’s not your type, Mother.”
“Why not?”
“She works hard.”
I thought of what lay ahead of me with Days of Summer. “Well, then, Son, maybe I can learn a thing or two from this lady.”