Doris June watched as her mother crossed her arms to keep warm.
“I remember Dad plowing and getting so excited when he’d finish a field,” Doris June said.
“Farming was a contest to him,” Mrs. Hargrove admitted. “He liked the challenge—to see if he could beat the rain or if he could beat Charley with the plowing. Their fields were about the same size and they made a point of starting on the same day.”
Doris June smiled.
“Of course, I suspected for a long time that Charley let your dad win,” Mrs. Hargrove said. “Charley would always be just a little bit behind him, but he never did seem to pass him.”
“You should ask Charley.”
Mrs. Hargrove shook her head. “I’m not sure Charley would want me to know. It’d make him feel soft. Men don’t always like that. So I let him keep his secret. I think it made Charley happy to do it. Those were good days for your father.”
“Were you happy here?” Doris June asked as she sat down in one of the other chairs. She could feel the metal bars of the chair on her back. “I mean for yourself and not just because of Dad?”
Mrs. Hargrove smiled. “It took me some time to get used to the farm, but, in time, I liked the peace out here as much as your father did. When we first got married, I used to think nothing would suit me but city life. Your father and I, we were such opposites when we got married.”
Doris June could remember her father well. He’d died almost twenty years ago, but he’d always seemed bigger than life. He had enough gusto for ten men. It was strange, but she didn’t have as clear a picture of her mother from those days as she did of her father. Her mother had always paled in comparison to her father. It was odd to think of that now though because her mother was not at all timid these days. She had blossomed as she grew older.
“Did you think I wouldn’t be happy if I’d married Curt back then?”
Mrs. Hargrove stiffened. “It wasn’t Curt. I’ve always said you were too young.”
Doris June nodded. Her mother had always said that. It wasn’t until now, however, that Doris June was wondering if there hadn’t been other reasons. “Were you happy when you first got married?”
Mrs. Hargrove hugged her arms and didn’t answer at first. Finally, she said. “Your father was a saint. But, sometimes, it’s hard when people marry too young. For women, especially, if they don’t know who they are and what they want in life. It can be hard for them to find their footing.”
Doris June reached across the table and patted her mother’s arm. They sat together as the morning light filtered in through the open door and the cracks in some of the boards hanging over the windows.
“I wanted you to be happy,” Mrs. Hargrove finally said.
“I know.” Doris June wasn’t sure she had fully forgiven her mother for interfering until this very moment. In her mind, it had been her mother who stopped everything that day twenty-five years ago. Her father might have forbidden her to get married, but she didn’t remember him being as adamant as her mother had been. It was odd, but in the years since then, she had never thought about why her mother had been so sure it was not good to be married young.
Looking at her mother now, Doris June knew she had to do something to relieve her mother’s guilt. It was that guilt and not some sort of senior confusion that was eating away at her mother’s confidence.
“I’m okay, really I am,” Doris June said. “You did what any parent would do.”
“Yes, but—”
“Really, I’m good,” Doris June said. She heard a humming in the distance that could only be a tractor coming down the road. Doris June didn’t know what else to say so she just sat with her mother. In a few minutes, she heard boots on the porch just outside of the kitchen.
“Anybody home?” Curt called out.
“We’re in here,” Doris June said as she stood up. “We were just going out to see the pansies.”
Curt stepped into the open door of the kitchen. “Why don’t you grab one of those baskets so we can see how many pansies we need to make them look full?”
“Will do.” Doris June picked up a basket as she walked past the counter. She looked back at her mother. “See, everything’s okay.”
Mrs. Hargrove stood up and nodded. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Curt was already heading to the pansy patch, but he turned around and smiled when he saw Doris June walk out of the door and stand for a minute on the porch to take a deep breath of the farm air. This was the Doris June he knew. He liked seeing her in old jeans and a flannel shirt even more than he’d liked seeing her in the soft pink dress last night, and that was saying something.
“I’ll pull back the plastic and we’ll take a look,” Curt said when Doris June got to the pansies. Charley was already standing by the flowers and Mrs. Hargrove was following along behind.
It only took Curt one motion of his arm to pull back the plastic. The plastic itself was warm because of the solar lights. He’d read the directions when he put the stuff down to be sure that it would never get hot enough to melt or to start a fire.
“They’re beautiful,” Doris June said as they stood and looked down at the flowers.
“They’re still awfully small,” Mrs. Hargrove fretted. “I wanted them to be bigger by now.”
“Isn’t that what all mothers say,” Charley said with a smile.
“I think they’re just perfect,” Doris June said. “When they’re small like this, we can crowd the baskets with them. It will be all lavender and purple and those bits of yellow velvet.”
“We have some moss to put around the plants, too,” Curt said. “That way we can water them well on Saturday and they’ll be all set for giving away on Sunday morning.”
“Did anyone remember to buy ribbon?” Doris June asked.
“I have lots of yellow ribbon left from when we decorated the tree in front of the church,” Mrs. Hargrove said. “I brought that out from town the other day along with bits and pieces of other ribbon.”
“Why don’t you and Charley put the ribbons on the baskets while Doris June and I dig?” Curt said to Mrs. Hargrove.
“Well, I can—” Charley started to say something and then Mrs. Hargrove put her hand on his arm. He cleared his throat. “Oh, yeah, never mind. We’ll leave the hard work to you young ones.”
Mrs. Hargrove and Charley walked into the farmhouse.
Curt watched his father and Mrs. Hargrove leave and then he turned to Doris June. “We’ve been had, you know.”
“Yeah, I figured. But they shouldn’t be lifting things and digging holes even if they still think they can.”
Curt nodded. “I should have brought us some hoes instead of these shovels.” He looked down at the pansies. “The plants are so little; I don’t want to damage them.”
“We’ll be careful,” Doris June said.
Curt liked the rhythm he and Doris June got into. She was tense at first when they were alone so he didn’t say anything. He just worked. He’d sink his shovel between the rows and she would use her shovel to lift the individual plants out of the dirt. When they had a dozen or so pansies unearthed, they put them in one of the plastic trays that sat beside the plants and started on another tray.
Curt could tell Doris June relaxed around him as they worked. He didn’t want to disturb that, but he finally asked her a question about her job in Anchorage. Before he knew it, the sun was high in the sky and he knew all about what a traffic control manager did at a television station.
“You like your job, don’t you?” Curt finally stopped digging and leaned on his shovel.
Doris June nodded and patted the dirt around their last tray of pansies.
“I bet everyone’s getting hungry,” Curt said. “It must be past one.”
“We should be getting home,” Doris June said. “I need to press something to wear for our meeting tonight.”
“You look fine to me.” Curt looked at Doris June. “There’s nothing wrong with what you’re wear
ing.”
“I thought I’d change into a suit,” Doris June said.
Curt had been afraid of that. He didn’t know when she had become so fond of suits. “The guy from the state is probably in his twenties. He’s probably going to wear cutoffs and a T-shirt.”
“I wouldn’t count on it. A guy in his twenties can still be wearing a suit,” Doris June said as she stood up and stretched her back. “He’s in business.”
“He’s with the state,” Curt said. “Even if he’s going to dress up, we don’t need to impress him. We’re the taxpayers.”
Doris June was, of course, halfway to the house by the time he said that.
It was a good thing he had another white shirt, Curt told himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d put a suit on twice in the same week. And that wasn’t counting going to church.
Chapter Nine
Doris June slid into the jacket of her navy suit and stepped in front of the mirror in her old bedroom to make sure her hair was all in place. The mirror had a black rim around it where it had aged. There was still some tape in the corner where she used to put notes to herself about school assignments.
When Doris June looked in the mirror, she could see how she had changed over the years. Some of it was good, some of it was bad. The basics were still the same. She had blond hair that was too dark to be really fashionable and eyes that were too light a blue to be mysterious. Her cheeks had always been pink and bordering on chubby. Her face looked more settled than it had when she stood at this mirror in her school days. She moved slower, but maybe she wasn’t as impatient. She seemed more solid.
She didn’t look as though she was as easily swayed as she had been back then. She straightened her jacket. Wearing a suit made her feel she was more in charge of her own opinions. In her youth, she’d been like a puppy, happily going this way and that way, never knowing which direction she really wanted to take.
When Curt had reminded her about their argument on what route to take to Las Vegas, she remembered how hard it had been for her to try to stand up for what she did want even when she knew what it was. She had tried to tell him that it was going to be her wedding, too, and that she wanted it to be nice.
She smoothed back her hair and added a gold pin to her suit jacket. Curt had always been the one who made the decisions for them. It had seemed exciting at sixteen, but even as they talked about eloping, some part of her had wondered if he would always insist on doing things his way.
Her mother and father had shared the decisions in their family; at least it had looked that way to her. She knew it had never done her any good to cry poor-me to either one of them. The one who hadn’t made the decision always backed the one who had. It had been frustrating as a child, but she had always imagined that was what a marriage was supposed to be like. From what her mother had said this morning, though, she wondered if the balance of power had been the same at the beginning of their marriage.
“Doris June,” her mother called up the stairs. “It’s almost time to go.”
“I’ll be right down.” Doris June turned away from the mirror and started toward the stairs.
The day had grown warmer as time passed, and now that it was almost four o’clock the heat of the day was pressed down and waiting as Doris June opened the door to go outside.
“No rain today,” Mrs. Hargrove said as she stepped out onto her porch and followed Doris June down the steps. “It makes the ground better for walking, but the crops will need it soon.”
“It’ll probably rain some before long.” Doris June adjusted her steps to match those of her mother. “Here take my arm. There are ruts along the road here.”
Mrs. Hargrove put her hand on Doris June’s arm.
“I hope you’re careful when you walk along here by yourself,” Doris June said as she tucked her mother’s hand closer to her. “You don’t want to fall.”
“I’m careful,” Mrs. Hargrove assured her. “You don’t need to worry.”
The two of them walked to the café.
“I suppose we should offer him some coffee,” Mrs. Hargrove said as they climbed the steps to the café.
“I think that would be nice.”
When the two women entered the café, Doris June could tell right away that the man at the table on the left was the state man even though he had an empty platter in front of him that indicated he’d eaten in the café, so he could really be anyone. If they got more visitors in Dry Creek, Doris June might not have known for sure who he was.
Curt had been right about him. He looked like he was about twenty-five. But she had been right, too. He had on a beige suit that had probably cost him a week’s salary.
“Doris June Hargrove.” She put her hand out to the state man as she finished walking over to his table. “You must be Mr. Aaron White.”
“Yes.” He stood up. “I’m Aaron. So glad you could meet me.”
“My mother is the one who is writing the piece for your publication. Well, she and Charley Nelson,” Doris June said as she pulled out a chair for her mother. “I’m just along for the ride.”
“Well, I’m pleased to meet both of you.”
“Charley Nelson is the man you talked to yesterday on the phone,” Mrs. Hargrove said. “He’ll be here any minute, with his son. I hope we haven’t kept you waiting?”
“I got here early so I had a late lunch,” Aaron said as he looked over at the kitchen door. “Linda has been filling me in on the plans the kids have for a concert here and I’m beginning to think you don’t even need the tourism guide.”
Linda came out of the door to the kitchen carrying a coffeepot.
“Refill?” she asked Aaron, and then looked at Mrs. Hargrove and Doris June. “Can I get anything for either of you?”
“We just ate,” Mrs. Hargrove said as Linda filled Aaron’s coffee cup.
“The kids will be so excited,” Linda said when she finished filling the cup. “Aaron thinks their concert will be a smashing success.”
“It’s got grass-roots promotion written all over it,” Aaron agreed. “If we could think of an educational angle to go with it, I could promote it to the high schools in Billings.”
Just then Doris June heard the school bus drive into Dry Creek.
“He thinks they should even charge,” Linda said. “At least enough to cover expenses.”
Aaron nodded. “I can’t wait to meet Lucy and Ben.”
The door to the café swung open.
“They’re here now,” Linda said as the two teenagers raced in.
It only took a couple of minutes for Lucy and Ben to learn everything that Aaron had been telling Linda.
“You really think you could get some kids from Billings to come?” Lucy asked.
“If we can figure out an educational angle, the kids that come can even get extra credit for it in social studies. We’re doing a family-preparedness section in the high schools and we’re looking for fun things they can do where they actually learn something.”
Lucy and Ben were silent as they thought.
“It wouldn’t even need to be that much of an educational angle.” Aaron took a sip of his coffee. “Sometimes soft educational works, too—you know, something that has to do with feelings and stuff.”
“It’s love ballads,” Lucy said. “That’s feelings.”
“Well, it would have to be more than that,” Aaron said.
The door to the café opened and Curt and Charley walked in. They were both wearing boots and Doris June didn’t need to see them to know they were heading toward the table where everyone was sitting.
“Dad, this man is going to help us with our concert,” Ben announced. “Isn’t that great?”
“Yeah,” Curt said as he pulled a chair out and sat down at the table.
“I’ll do whatever I can,” Aaron said.
“Well, if you’ve got a big chain, we could use another one to pull the pickup in to town. I can only find the one,” Charley said as he sat down at the tabl
e, too.
“What pickup?” Aaron asked. “Did I miss something?”
“We’re going to bring in the real pickup,” Lucy gushed. “You know, the one that hit the sign. The fender is still bent and everything.”
“I sent money to have it fixed,” Curt defended himself.
“It’s your pickup?” Aaron asked as he turned to Curt. His voice rose in excitement. “You’re the one who was eloping?”
“Well, it was technically my father’s pickup,” Curt said. “But, yeah, I was the one driving it when I hit the sign. It was a complete accident.”
Ben chuckled. “He was trying to kiss Doris June. That’s why they hit the stop sign.”
Aaron looked over at Doris June and his eyes got wide.
“That’s great!” Aaron was really getting animated now. “That’s a perfect message for kids. The two of you could do a thing on eloping.”
“They could do a driver’s education piece on why it’s important to watch the road when they’re driving,” Ben offered.
“I don’t think we need to bring driving into this,” Curt said. “If we’re going to have any messages at the concert it should be don’t drink and don’t do drugs. We shouldn’t even mention eloping. Everyone’s too young for that.”
There was a moment’s silence.
“And really we’re hoping to do something on flowers for the guidebook,” Mrs. Hargrove said. “I have the prettiest field of pansies a few miles north of here that you have to see.”
Doris June knew her mother’s pansies didn’t stand a chance once she saw the light in Aaron’s eyes. He was an advertising person in pursuit of a new concept.
“They give out baskets of pansies to every mother who comes to church on Sunday morning,” Doris June had to try anyway. “I think we could get some local news coverage of that. Human interest stories and all.”
A Match Made in Dry Creek Page 10