It Happens Every Spring

by Gary Chapman; Catherine Palmer

  “Have you seen anything of that other fellow who liked your cake?” Steve asked, following her into the dining room like a puppy at her heels. “The guy who slept on our porch for a few nights last month?”

  “Cody. Patsy Pringle told me that people have said they saw him down in the woods or across the lake. But he hasn’t been back to Deepwater Cove. I’ve worried a lot about him. I even asked at church if Cody had dropped by the Good Samaritan closet to get a coat or some food. But Pastor Andrew said he hadn’t seen anyone of that description.”

  “I’m sorry, Brenda,” Steve said, closing in behind her. “I know you really cared about him.”

  She stiffened as he took her shoulders. “You’re glad he’s gone. Don’t deny it, Steve.”

  His hands froze. “I didn’t want anything bad to happen to him.”

  “No, of course not.” She stepped away from him and headed back to the kitchen. “Nick tells me that people like Cody can survive in the woods even through a cold winter. They have instincts, he says. They find warm places, and they know how to get food. Nick lived in his car once, so he ought to know. He insists it’s not as bad as people might think. Of course, Nick is very different from Cody. Nick is brilliant, and Cody wasn’t even sure of his own last name.”

  “Nick is brilliant?” Steve asked, padding after her into the kitchen. “You talked to him about Cody?”

  “Of course I did. What do you think I do around here all day? Talk to myself?”

  That had come out much harsher than she intended. Brenda shook her head, swallowed down the regret, and lifted the lasagna from the stove top. “Go wash up, honey,” she said gently. “The bread is hot. We’ll talk while we eat.”

  As Steve vanished into the powder room, Brenda mentally formed another prayer. She could not go into this evening with a bad attitude toward her husband. The atmosphere just had to get better between them. For one thing, the kids were coming home, and Brenda didn’t want them to suspect that anything was troubling their parents’ marriage.

  For another, she really wanted to find a way to get along with Steve. True, he had allowed a deep passion for his work to take Brenda’s place in his life, and sometimes the thought of ever genuinely liking her husband or enjoying spending time with him again seemed almost impossible. But they had been through a lot together in the past, and they couldn’t risk losing what they had worked so hard to build.

  Steve stepped back into the dining room and sat down at the table across from Brenda. As always, he took her hands and bent his head to bless their meal. It should have felt normal and comforting, but Brenda couldn’t help wanting to pull away and shove her hands into her lap. From the time his work began to consume him, Steve had done everything in his power to alienate her, and now he wanted to pretend things were exactly the same as ever. But they weren’t.

  This man had abandoned his wife. He had left her in the dust as he raced off after fame and money. The thought of it stuck in her throat, and she almost didn’t notice when he said, “Amen.”

  “So,” Steve began as she cut a rectangle of lasagna. “It’s amazing how well you matched these chairs to the place mats, honey. Plaid.”

  She glanced across the table at him. “Do you like the colors?”

  “Sure. Yellow is nice. And pink, too. Yeah, I think they’re fine.”

  “Fine?”

  “Good is what I mean. Or pretty would be a better word. The whole house looks very pretty, Brenda.”

  “Do you like the slipcovers, too?”

  He studied the living-room sofa for a moment, and Brenda couldn’t help but feel that he had never even noticed the hard work she had put into those slipcovers.

  “Wow,” he said. “I didn’t know you could sew like that. I mean, I knew you could sew. I always knew you were very good at sewing. You made those Easter dresses for the girls every year. But slipcovers.”

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have new furniture?” she asked, throwing his words back at him. “You told me I could have bought new furniture.”

  “Well, you could. If you wanted to.”

  “Then you don’t really like the slipcovers.”

  “No, that’s not what I mean. I love the slipcovers. But if you want new furniture, we can afford to buy it. I’m bringing in a lot of money, Brenda, and business is picking up as the weather warms. You know that big house over on the other side of the Tranquility strip mall? They listed it with me. I’ve already gotten a few nibbles from buyers too. You wouldn’t believe how many people are out looking for property. Condos are still moving well, of course, but your really high-income people are looking for large second homes. These people want lakefront lots with a great view, and they’ll pay top dollar. The west side of the lake is going to grow; you can bet on that. This is where we’ll start seeing a big jump in the real-estate market. Local businesses should profit too. If we could move in a few more chain restaurants and some nice gift boutiques—”

  He caught himself and grinned. “Listen to me running on and on. It seems like months since we’ve sat down together and talked.”

  “I know,” Brenda said, fighting the next retort that sprang to her lips. She forced a smile. “Listen, I wanted us to discuss spring break, remember? The kids will both be home a week from Saturday. Can we get the boat out, Steve? spend a day on the water like we used to?”

  He took a bite of lasagna and chewed in silence for a moment. “I don’t know if I can take off a whole day,” he said finally. “A morning, maybe. People prefer to look at houses in the afternoons and evenings.”

  “Morning? Justin won’t even wake up till noon, and Jessica’s not much better. I was hoping we could drag them both out of bed and leave the house about ten. I’ll pack a picnic lunch, and we can fish, read, play games, work puzzles—whatever—all afternoon. If it’s warm enough, you and Justin will want to get out the wakeboard, and Jessica will be sunbathing. We could all do some tubing. Then we could take the boat over to one of the lakeside restaurants for dinner. That would be fun.”

  “It sounds good, but I don’t know, Brenda. We’d have to work out which day. I’ve already got a pretty full calendar.”

  “What? Steve, you knew which days to keep open for spring break! I told you weeks ago.”

  “I can’t stop working just because the kids are home. Realtors have to stay on top of the market. If you drop the ball, people will take their business elsewhere. I’m juggling a lot of projects right now, and it’s only going to get more intense this summer.”

  “So what are you telling me? You don’t want to spend time with your children? You’d rather sell houses than be with your family?”

  “Brenda, that’s not fair. Of course I want to spend time with you. I just have to balance everything.”

  “Is this what you call balance—eating supper at home one time in the last two months?”

  “Brenda, please.”

  “Never mind.” She held up her hand. “Excuse me; I forgot to get the bread out of the oven.”

  As she hurried into the kitchen, Brenda’s eyes filled with tears. How much more plain could he make it? Steve absolutely loved his work, and he wanted to devote all his time to it. As for her and the children, well, he had relegated them to the back burner of his life. Only…since the children were already gone, that meant the last person sitting on the back burner was Brenda.

  The faithful, subservient wife.

  She yanked the bread from the oven and dumped it into a cloth-lined basket she had prepared. “Justin is able to drive the boat,” she said as she strode back into the dining room. “He can take his sister and me out onto the lake. I’ll run the boat if the kids want to wakeboard or tube. Then the three of us will head for dinner at one of the restaurants.”

  “And I could meet you there!” Steve concluded. “You can call me on the cell phone when you get ready to head for the restaurant, and I’ll drive over.”

  “You would really do that?”

  “Sure!”
<
br />   “Miss a day on the water with your children?”

  “Wait, I thought…I thought that’s what you were suggesting—that I could meet you at the restaurant.”

  “Oh, you are the most thickheaded man in history!” She tore off a slice of garlic bread and set it on her plate. She hadn’t been able to eat a bite of the lasagna she’d worked most of the morning to prepare. “I told Nick you’d be too busy to go out on the water with us. Sunday will be the same way, won’t it? We’ll all sit in church together like happy little Hansens, and then you’ll drive off to show your precious properties.”

  “Weekends are the best times to hold open houses.”

  “Weekends are for family!”

  “Our children are grown, Brenda. It’s not like we have to plan anything for them to do this spring break. They can drive, operate the boat, ski, wakeboard, or whatever they want all by themselves. Tell them to bring their friends to the lake for a few days, and that will keep the whole crew busy.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Everyone out of your way so you can work?”

  “Brenda, for pete’s sake—”

  “Nick told me you were driven. He said he saw it in your eyes the minute he met you. He’s right. You have one thing on your mind, Steve, and that’s making money. Rising to the top of the heap. Winning the Realtor of the Year award. I told Nick about our dinner tonight, and he said you would probably be too busy to spend time with us over spring break. Nick thinks—”

  “What does this Nick guy know anyhow?” Steve said, throwing his fork down on the plate. “He’s a handyman!”

  “Nick LeClair is my friend! He’s here every day. He listens to me. He thinks I’m creative and intelligent and interesting. Nick says I’m an artist, and guess what—I am!”

  “Brenda—”

  “But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? You don’t care about my life anymore. You care about selling houses and making money and eating dinner at the country club. Forget your kids. Forget your home. And forget your wife!”

  “Brenda, I told you I liked the slipcovers.” He pushed back his chair to reach for her as she grabbed her plate and headed for the basement. “I know you’re an artist. I said I thought the diningroom chairs were nice. Where are you going?”

  “Where does it look like?” she shouted back up the stairs. “I wanted us to talk about spring break, and we did. You made your priorities clear. Since we’re finished with our discussion, I’m eating the rest of my meal down here.”

  In the basement, Brenda set her plate on the plank between the two sawhorses Nick had placed in the center of the room. She could hear the kitchen door slam upstairs as Steve left the house. In a moment, the garage door rose and his car pulled away.

  Brenda wiped her cheeks as she stared through her tears at the uneaten lasagna, cold garlic bread, and limp salad. As a shiver of pain ran through her, she sank to her knees on the chilly concrete floor and sobbed.

  CHAPTER SIX

  I am ready for this week to be over!” Patsy worked her blow-dryer through Kim Finley’s short brown hair. “This has been the longest week I can remember. The tea shop never was empty for a minute, and the goodies disappeared so fast I could hardly keep up. People streamed in and out of here—appointments, drop-ins, and a lot of folks just stopping by to chat. I don’t mean to complain, but these days by Saturday night, I’m just about to keel over.”

  “I know what you mean,” Kim said. “The dentist’s office is nuts right now. I appreciate you working me in at the last minute today.”

  “Oh, I’m not referring to you, honey! You and the twins can come in anytime. Your hair doesn’t take but a few minutes, and the kids tickle me to death. It’s all these other people. Sometimes I think I ought to change my sign to Grand Central Station.”

  Kim laughed. “It’s just because it’s spring, I imagine. Derek says a lot of people are already coming down to open their lake homes for the season because it’s been so warm. He expects the Water Patrol to have their hands full. I’m sure all the locals want to get their hair taken care of before the holiday. Lydia can hardly wait to wear the Easter dress we bought this afternoon in Camdenton. She really does look like a princess in it.”

  “I have no doubt about that. The child is gorgeous. She could win a beauty contest.”

  “Oh, I’d never do that to her. She’s so shy. Now Luke! That boy wouldn’t have any trouble on a stage, but I doubt he would win a pageant. I never know what will come out of his mouth. Little boys…they are something else.”

  “How is Derek getting along with him lately?” Patsy asked, aware that Kim and her husband had been married only three years. The twins’ father was in and out of the picture, usually stirring up some kind of hullabaloo, and poor Derek seemed to be struggling to handle his role as husband and father.

  “Every time he comes in here, he brags on the kids,” Patsy continued. “He says Luke reminds him of when he was a boy.”

  Kim turned her head to admire her new cut as Patsy fingered the last tendrils into place. A beautiful woman, Kim had her hands full as a dental hygienist, mother, and wife. In fact, the more Patsy thought about it, the more she marveled at how her clientele managed so many roles in life. Not only did most of them work full-time jobs, but they had husbands and children, and they took on all kinds of volunteer work at the schools, helped out at their churches or clubs, and kept tabs on their friends. And Patsy thought she was tired on a Saturday night!

  “Derek enjoys the twins,” Kim was saying as Patsy removed the plastic cape from her shoulders and gave it a shake. “He’d like for us to have a baby, too, but I just can’t picture it. Everything has to go like clockwork or our system starts to break down. Lately Luke has been sick a lot, and he’s had to miss several days of school. It’s a nightmare for me to have to call in to work and ask for the day off right as the office is opening up. With lake traffic building up already, Derek can’t take time away from his job with the Water Patrol, and then Lydia has to be picked up from school and driven to dance lessons on Tuesdays and to piano on Wednesdays. My ex is no help at all.”

  “Are they ever?” Patsy sighed. “The trouble with divorce is that you never really do end the relationship. It may change a little, but you’re still stuck with each other in one way or another. At least, that’s the conclusion I’ve come to after listening to my clients all these years.”

  “You’re right,” Kim said as she picked up her purse. “But I am so glad not to be married to my first husband. That was a total nightmare. With Derek, things are still hard, but at least the kids and I are safe.”

  “Was your ex that bad?”

  “You can’t imagine.”

  Patsy shook her head. “Why can’t people be nice to each other? You would think folks would want to try to get along, wouldn’t you? And not do things to hurt or irritate each other? Is that so hard? Folks can be downright awful.”

  As she punched the buttons on her cash register, a familiar form crossed in front of the salon window. “Oh, speak of the devil,” Patsy said in a low voice. “Here comes Pete Roberts from next door. That man is liable to drive me to drink. What can he mean by coming over here when he knows good and well I’m shutting down for the day?”

  “Esther Moore told me Pete likes you,” Kim spoke up. “Charlie says Pete thinks you’re cute.”

  “Well, I don’t care who said what. You would think Deepwater Cove was the gossip headquarters of the world. Kim, your hair looks beautiful, and I’ll be praying that Luke gets to feeling better. You give him and Lydia suckers from me, okay? Now, hurry up and escape while you can. I’ll get rid of this intruder lickety-split.”

  Patsy handed a couple of bright red lollipops across the counter to Kim just as Pete Roberts pushed open the door to Just As I Am.

  Reaching out, Kim covered Patsy’s hand for a moment. “Thanks,

  Patsy,” she said softly. “Thanks for cutting my hair…and for listening.”

  “Pr
aying, too. Don’t forget that. I pray for all my clients.”

  Kim smiled. “I count on it.”

  “Evening, Mrs. Finley,” Pete said, tipping the brim of his cap at Kim as she hurried by. “Tell Derek that Charlie Moore caught a whopper yesterday out in the cove. He used a four-pound test line to cast a 1/64-ounce jig under a lightweight float. The water’s so muddy these days that I’m recommending the chartreuse jig-n-float.”

  “How big was Charlie’s fish?”

  “Nearly three pounds. Largemouth bass.” Pete kept walking toward the salon desk. “I saw the thing myself. Charlie came over to the shop to show it off. Lunker.”

  “I’ll tell Derek.”

  Kim waved as Pete turned to face Patsy. “How much you want to bet I’ll have a run on those chartreuse jig-n-floats tomorrow afternoon?”

  “Sunday’s the Lord’s Day,” Patsy reminded him. She turned her shoulder and went to fetch her broom. “You shouldn’t even open Rods-n-Ends.”

  “A tackle shop can’t be closed on a Sunday! I’d get run out of business for sure.”

  “At least you’d have a clear conscience.”

  “And an empty wallet. Don’t you remember what the pastor said in his sermon a couple weeks ago? Jesus told the disciples that the Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath. Besides that, Sunday’s supposed to be a day of rest. If folks want to go fishing on a Sunday afternoon, they need bait. And why not a good ol’ boy like me to sell it to ’em?”

  “It’s your decision,” Patsy said. She tried to keep her focus on tidying up the shop for the two-day break. Her stylists were long gone, and everyone in the lake area knew Just As I Am would be shut tighter than a drum on Sunday and Monday every week. But Tuesday mornings, Patsy opened early and made sure the place looked clean, fresh, and neat as a pin.