A Match Made in Dry Creek

by Janet Tronstad

  Mrs. Hargrove stopped to look over at Curt, which was easy enough to do since he was standing right next to her still holding her arm in case she got unsteady on her feet.

  Aaron leaned over so he could speak into the microphone. “And how does Curt feel about that?”

  Aaron held the microphone up higher and angled it so it was even with Curt’s chin. “I don’t—”

  There was silence for a minute.

  “Come on, Curt,” Aaron said into the microphone. “We’re all here to learn about how families can relate better. Don’t be shy. What do you think of Mrs. Hargrove’s apology?”

  Curt reached out and took the microphone from Aaron. “First off, she doesn’t need to apologize to me. I’ve thought about it lately, and she did the exact right thing.”

  “I did?” Mrs. Hargrove asked, and even without a microphone Doris June could hear the surprise in her mother’s voice.

  “Absolutely,” Curt answered. His words were strong and he had no hesitation. “You knew what needed to be done and you did it. I owe you my thanks.”

  With that, Curt kissed Mrs. Hargrove on the cheek and the teenagers went wild again. Doris June was glad for all the noise. She was sure no one had heard the quick gasp she’d made when Curt said her mother was right about tearing them apart. She thought he had at least grieved over their shattered plans. But it didn’t appear that he had. The thought had never occurred to Doris June that maybe Curt had wanted someone to stop them from eloping.

  She pulled the jacket closer around her, but, for the first time that evening, it didn’t make her warmer. She was so cold she thought she must be coming down with something; maybe it was the flu, because she felt aches all over.

  The next song Ben and Lucy played was a slow love ballad that was very sad. No one would think it strange to see a woman shedding a tear or two while she listened to it, Doris June told herself. Lots of people cried a little at sad love songs.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The air grew cooler as the evening progressed and started to become moist. It was almost as if the night dew was already coming. If the teenagers noticed, they just huddled closer together. Doris June walked up to Aaron in the intermission and told him she was a little tired. He assured her it was fine if she didn’t talk any more for the rest of the program.

  “You’ve already given us a good segment,” he said as he held a camera in his hand. He was taking publicity shots. “Besides, your mother has those kids in the palm of her hand. She’s an educational phenomenon. We need to get her in the classrooms.”

  Doris June nodded. “She already teaches Sunday school. Half of the kids in Dry Creek think the voice of God is my mother’s voice telling them to be good. Besides, they like her.”

  Mrs. Hargrove had done a particularly fine segment, Doris June thought, on how teenagers could improve their relationships with their parents in the good times so they could handle the bad times together better. This was after Curt’s remarks and before Aaron called for the intermission.

  At the beginning of intermission, Linda and Curt passed around big plastic tubs of cookies. There were chocolate-chip cookies in one and oatmeal cookies in the other. Linda also had a tub of plastic-wrapped chocolate doughnuts that she set beside the stop sign and invited everyone to share.

  After they ate their cookies, some of the teenagers gathered around the old pickup and Ben started telling them all about the wild drive that night long ago and how the pickup had hit the stop sign and bent it until it became the shape that it is today. He used motions and sound effects and, Doris June decided, his version was even more exciting than the real thing.

  She didn’t listen to the full story, however. Her attention strayed to a boy and girl over at the stop sign who were kneeling down and looking for a place to carve their initials. She supposed it was a violation of some sort to deface public property, but she doubted that knowledge would stop anyone here tonight.

  “Hey, is this them?” the boy suddenly shouted from where he was kneeling. “Look at this, it says ‘D.J.H. +C.N.’ That’s got to be Doris June Hargrove loves Curt Nelson. The letters are all rusted out, but you can see them if you get close.”

  Doris June was glad that it was nighttime and no one could see reddened faces even if they did get close.

  Ben left the side of the pickup and walked over to the stop sign. He bent down and then stood back up and looked for Curt. “Way to go, Dad! I bet you were the first one to even scratch anything on the old post.”

  Ben gave his father a grin and a thumbs-up sign.

  Curt nodded back at his son. Of course, he couldn’t do much else because he was holding the plastic tub of cookies with both hands. Doris June hoped Curt believed the kids were seeing things. Those scratchy letters had to be so rusted that they could spell anything. He didn’t rush over to check the letters so he must know that everyone could be mistaken.

  Doris June decided she should go back to the shadows and sit down before anything else embarrassing happened. No sooner had she done that than Aaron declared the intermission over. Doris June never thought she would be so glad to have a band start playing again.

  The first song after the break was an upbeat song Lucy had written about finding love in unexpected people.

  “They each wrote a song,” Linda whispered as she sat down next to Doris June in the area they’d shared during the first part of the concert. Linda had the plastic tub, now empty of cookies, and she set it down in front of them so they could lean their elbows on it as they sat cross-legged.

  “It’s a good song,” Doris June answered softly as Lucy drew the words to a close. “It’s got a tune you can hum.”

  “You don’t think I should worry, do you?” Linda asked, keeping her voice low. “She’s kind of young for a steady boyfriend.”

  Doris June smiled. “Just because she puts words to a song it doesn’t mean she has anyone particular in mind. You don’t know that she’s really found anything.”

  Linda nodded. “I suppose it could be creative license. It’s just I worry about her since our mother is gone.”

  “She’s got you.”

  “I guess. It’s just that I’ve never been much good when it comes to understanding men,” Linda said. “Not like a mother would be.”

  “I don’t think it’s so easy to be a mother even if it’s your daughter and not your little sister.”

  “Yeah, I suppose not.”

  “If you really run into problems, talk to my mother,” Doris June suggested. “She’s good at this parenting stuff.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Ben was now kneeling down at the front of the stage and holding the microphone. “Before I sing the song I wrote, I want Mrs. Hargrove to step up close to the pickup here.”

  Doris June watched as Curt escorted her mother up to the front again. He really was such a nice man, she thought. In the light coming from the other pickups, she could see he was relaxed and friendly to everyone. He was smiling and having a good time. Of course, she reminded herself, he hadn’t had a shock earlier in the evening and realized that he was the one responsible for something he’d always blamed on someone else. Guilt could dampen anyone’s enthusiasm.

  When Mrs. Hargrove was settled next to the bed of the pickup, Ben started to talk.

  “I don’t remember my mother,” Ben said. “But I can remember, even before I moved to Dry Creek, that Mrs. Hargrove always took time to ask me how I was and to bring me some cookies if she knew I was in town visiting my grandfather. So, since it’s Mother’s Day tomorrow, I want to dedicate this song to her.”

  Ben’s song was about moving from the city streets of Chicago to the old roads of Dry Creek and how he’d found a home on the roads that he couldn’t find on the city streets. It was because of neighbors, the last line of his song went—it was all because of the neighbors who shared those old country roads with him.

  Mrs. Hargrove gave Ben a hug when he’d finished his song and leaned into the microphone. “I
’m going to ask him to sing that song in church tomorrow so come on over and hear it again.”

  Lucy leaned into the microphone, too. “And we wanted everyone to know that the church is making Mother’s Day baskets for everyone’s mothers so if you want to help with the bows, meet over at the church steps after the concert. Everyone’s welcome, even if you don’t have a mother of your own.”

  “Those who have more mother than they need have offered to share with us,” Ben said, and everyone laughed.

  The next several songs had strong rhythms and were ones everyone knew so some of the teenagers stood up and sang along, swaying to the beat. Doris June was glad the concert was almost over.

  “So, are you okay?” Linda asked. The final song was fading away and everyone else was getting up.

  “I’ll be fine,” Doris June said. “I just—well, it’s been quite a day.”

  Linda nodded. “Okay, then.”

  Doris June stood up and stretched. She wondered at what point tonight she was supposed to give the jacket back to Curt. She knew she needed to talk to him; she was just hoping to avoid it until she’d had a full night’s rest and some time to pray. She didn’t want to say one wrong word to Curt. If there was still a chance that they could be friends again, she wanted to be careful and not damage it.

  After Charley had led a group of teenagers over to the church to tie bows on baskets and Curt had started off with his son taking the equipment they’d borrowed into the café, Doris June walked over to her mother and gave her a hug.

  “Did you see that?” Mrs. Hargrove asked in delight. “I was sung to by Ben. He remembered those cookies I used to give him.”

  Doris June smiled. “I saw. It was great.”

  “This concert was a wonderful idea.”

  Doris June nodded. It had certainly been educational.

  Mrs. Hargrove leaned in close to Doris June. “And I invited Aaron to stay in my hotel room tonight and come to church with us tomorrow. He said he might be able to get my room in some travel road guides as a bed-and-breakfast.”

  “He’d be the one to do it, all right.”

  Doris June walked her mother back to her house and they talked about sheets.

  “I have the yellow plaid ones I could use on that bed up there,” Mrs. Hargrove said as she carefully stepped over a rut in the road. “But I don’t want him to think the place is not sophisticated. I also have a couple of pink sheets, but that doesn’t seem very manly. That would be more for couples, don’t you think?”

  Mrs. Hargrove turned to Doris June.

  “I think either set of sheets will be just fine. Or you can tell him that you have options and that you pick the sheets based on your impressions of the guest.”

  “Oh, that’s perfect,” Mrs. Hargrove said. “Aaron will like that. He can use it as an angle.”

  “I think the breakfast you make for the person in the morning will be your best sales point.” Doris June frowned. She wasn’t so sure it was safe for her mother to take strangers into her dining room. “You do call Charley when there’s someone staying over, don’t you? Or, the sheriff or someone.”

  Mrs. Hargrove nodded. “You know Charley. He insists on having breakfast with us when I have a paying guest.”

  “Well, that’s a good thing. I’m glad to see Charley worries about you, too.”

  Mrs. Hargrove grunted. “I don’t know how worried he is. He gets a free breakfast. Besides, he’s usually just sitting over in the hardware store in the morning anyway so it’s good exercise for him to walk over.”

  “Well, he won’t have to come tomorrow morning, since I will be here.”

  “With a late time tonight, I think he’ll appreciate that.”

  Doris June offered to get the room ready for Aaron. She changed the sheets, so he could sleep on the yellow plaid ones instead of the pink ones. She plugged the television in so he could watch the news in the morning.

  Ordinarily, she would adjust the antenna on the roof so he’d get a little better picture reception, but since it was night, Doris June decided Aaron could close his eyes if he needed to and imagine the news pictures. The sound of the announcers came in clear and that would have to be enough.

  When Doris June went back into her mother’s house, she smelled cinnamon. She went into the kitchen. Her mother was getting ingredients ready for breakfast.

  “I hope he likes sweet rolls. I’m taking some out of the freezer so they’ll be ready to bake in the morning. And I’m going to have cooked oatmeal with cinnamon and maybe my own sugared chokecherries. I would do French toast, but I want to leave us lots of time to get ready for church.”

  “It sounds perfect,” Doris June said as she kissed her mother on the cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning. Don’t stay up late.”

  “I’m right behind you.”

  Doris June never remembered her bed feeling so good. She used to like to lie in bed at night and pray about the day. Sometimes she could get up and go sit at her window and pray. With the lights off in her room, she could look out of the second-floor window and see the stars. She always liked to picture God walking through the stars while He talked to her. After Doris June heard her mother climb the stairs, she got out of bed and went and sat by her window.

  Doris June saw a light go on in the room over the garage. Her mother’s guest was home. She hoped he liked his yellow plaid sheets. Quietly, she moved her chair a little to the right so she could see most of the road going through Dry Creek. There were a few black shapes where vehicles were still parked on the side of the road and a night-light in the parsonage next to the church. The one streetlight was farther down so Doris June didn’t see the light pole even though she saw the circle of fuzzy light it gave off.

  She wondered if Curt would ask for his jacket back tomorrow. She’d forgotten about it in her decision to walk her mother home in the darkness. Doris June turned around to where the jacket hung on a hook behind her door. She was a little chilled, she thought, as she stood up and walked over to the door to get the jacket. Once she had it on, she snuggled down in it. Now, she felt ready to pray.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Doris June thought she smelled pansies before she even opened the door to the church the next morning, but maybe it was the smell of the dirt around the pansies. Whatever it was, she took a deep breath. Aaron was walking beside her; her mother and Charley were walking together behind them. Even though Charley hadn’t come for breakfast, he had stopped by so that he could walk her mother to church, which Doris June thought was kind of sweet.

  Of course, Charley did admit he had enough of an appetite to eat one of Mrs. Hargrove’s cinnamon rolls even though he’d already had breakfast at home. The fact that Charley had organized the teenagers last night so well that Mrs. Hargrove didn’t have to go in early and finish getting the baskets ready made her more than willing to feed him.

  Doris June looked behind her as she walked down the aisle just to be sure her mother and Charley had both made it up the stairs fine.

  “You know, really, your mother needs to patent that recipe she uses to make her cooked oatmeal,” Aaron mumbled for the third time as he followed Doris June down one of the aisles. “There are people out there who will try to steal it from her if they get a chance. I’ve never tasted anything like those sugared chokecherries she puts in it. She could make a fortune with them alone.”

  “I don’t think that she wants a fortune,” Doris June whispered.

  Aaron’s eyes went big at that and then he looked around and seemed to realize where he was. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I forgot. That’s not good church talk.”

  “We don’t have special church talk here, Aaron.”

  Doris June sat down in a pew and laid Curt’s jacket out to the right of her. She certainly wasn’t someone to tell people what was holy enough for church. Her mind this morning was a mess and it was all over something as humble as a jacket. She knew she needed to return Curt’s jacket, but she didn’t want to be wearing it when she had to d
o that. It would be hard enough giving it back; she didn’t want to have the memory of Curt taking if off her shoulders as well. Plus, she needed to find a way to apologize to him and that wasn’t going to be easy.

  Aaron sat down to the left of Doris June in the pew and then he picked up a hymnal from the rack in front of him.

  “Songs, huh?” Aaron muttered, and then looked over at Doris June. “Sorry. I guess I’m just a little nervous. I haven’t been to church very often.”

  Doris June smiled at him. “We don’t bite.”

  “Good one,” Aaron said as he gave a little chuckle that seemed more a result of politeness than humor and put the hymnal back in the rack. Then he straightened the cuffs on the sleeves of his long shirt. And rubbed a bit of lint off his suit pants.

  Doris June was glad when Pastor Curtis told everyone to rise and sing a hymn. There had been more chatter than usual this morning before the church service and her nerves were on edge anyway. The sound of the congregation here singing hymns always calmed her.

  Doris June knew the minute Curt and Ben entered the church. She could hear their voices as they started singing before they even slid into a pew almost directly across from her. She was glad they were here. She hadn’t been totally sure that Curt would come to church this morning since he used to avoid coming when she was on her visits home.

  The sermon was about the importance of mothers and Pastor Curtis kept it brief so there’d be lots of time for presenting the pansy baskets. Doris June wondered if other people in the church were having as hard a time concentrating as she was because of all of the beauty in the front of the church. A tower of pansy baskets filled the front wall with all different colors of bows poking out between the flowers and the leaves.