It Happens Every Spring

by Gary Chapman; Catherine Palmer

  “A wife can’t live up to images in those videos,” Kim said. “What attracts me to my husband and makes me want to please him is when he helps me.”

  Ashley sighed. “Brad hardly lifts a finger around our house. He can build a house, hang drywall, shingle a roof, and attach siding, but he claims he can’t figure out the dishwasher.”

  “Oh, my stars and garters,” Patsy exclaimed. “Send him over here, and I’ll teach that young man a thing or two. I’ve got the salon’s dishwasher going half the day. And the washer and dryer run nonstop too.”

  Kim nodded. “I love it when Derek does his part to make the family run smoothly. When I walk in the door after work, right away he’ll say, ‘What can I do to help you, Kim?’ ”

  “Now that’s a man!” Esther said firmly.

  “Hold on a minute,” Steve said. “I thought we were talking about the women in adult videos.”

  “But don’t you see, those aren’t real women,” Kim said. “If a man wants a real woman to meet his needs, he has to do his part. Derek is always trying to figure out how to be a better husband.”

  “How did you get so lucky?” Ashley asked.

  “Well, I think he may believe he’s competing with my exhusband, but as far as I’m concerned there’s no contest. Of course we’ve had our ups and downs, but overall Derek is amazing.”

  “A man with that kind of attitude isn’t going to be patronizing an adult-video store,” Patsy said, returning to the matter at hand. “If we can keep good, wholesome businesses in this area, it will help our property values, Steve. Keep things in their proper place, I say. Look at Bagnell Dam. The strip there reminds me of a carnival midway. Bumper cars, arcades, fudge makers, tattoo parlors, hippie nostalgia shops, bungee-jumping towers, car shows. None of that is my cup of tea, though I know it brings in tourists. But this town is called Tranquility! It just makes me so upset!”

  At that moment, the roar of a lawn mower blasted through the wall that separated Just As I Am from Rods-n-Ends. Patsy clenched her teeth as the teacups began dancing across the table. Outside the salon’s front window, the school bus rattled to a stop and kids poured out onto the parking lot. In a moment, the door flew open and Kim Finley’s daughter, Lydia, raced toward the alcove, her cheeks red and her dark braids flying.

  “Mommy!” she cried out over the lawn mower. “Luke got sick at school, and the lady at your office said you were helping with a surgery, and so Daddy came to get him!”

  “Joe picked him up? But it’s not his day!” Kim exclaimed, standing so suddenly her chair fell over backward. “If I’ve told that man once, I’ve told him a hundred times—he cannot see you two unless it’s his day.”

  “But, Mommy, Luke is sick!”

  Grabbing her daughter’s hand, Kim Finley fumbled for her cell phone as she hurried toward the door. Ashley covered her ears to block the growl of the lawn mower, and Esther rolled her eyes as she shook her head.

  “Well, Steve,” Patsy said. She focused on the Just As I Am sign painted over the cash-register desk and blew out a breath. “Come on, honey. It’s your turn.”

  Brenda sat on the end of her bed and stared down at the cat lying on the floor between her feet. Nick LeClair had gone home for the evening and wouldn’t be back for two weeks. Another project had come up, and since it overlapped with the kids’ spring break, Brenda had urged him to accept it. Then when he came back, he would lay the vinyl floor in the basement, set up the potting bench he’d been building, and leave to start another job he had waiting for him at a house in Camdenton.

  All that morning, Brenda had painted the basement walls the way Nick had taught her—cutting in at the edges and then using the roller for the middle. In the afternoon, she prepared two of her family’s favorite casseroles and refrigerated them. When Justin and Jessica came home on Saturday to start their vacation, Brenda wanted to have everything ready so she could spend as much time with her kids as possible. They would have their picnic day on the lake, a chick-flick afternoon for herself and Jessica, a trip to the outlet mall in Osage Beach to shop for spring clothes, and several ventures to favorite local restaurants.

  Setting her palms on her knees now, she gazed at her wedding ring, tainted with green latex paint. As she studied the gold band, she recalled the moment that morning when Nick’s hand had covered hers and his deep voice murmured near her ear. Even now, the thought of his breath on her cheek made her shiver.

  How could she have let herself stumble into such a trap? Brenda shook her head. As if under a spell, she had stopped being angry with Steve and convinced herself that his behavior toward her no longer mattered. No longer resenting him or feeling hurt by his abandonment, she had simply become indifferent, erased him from her heart—as though she had hit the Delete button on her computer and blipped him out of her existence.

  As if by the same magic, Nick LeClair had ceased being a handyman, the twice-married owner of A-1 Remodeling, and a grandfather of two. He was Brenda’s confidant. Her closest friend. Funny, interesting, complimentary, he grew into the person she looked forward to seeing every morning. She valued his opinions. She sought his ideas.

  An invisible line had been drawn in front of Brenda the moment she married Steve Hansen. But at some point in the past few weeks, she had stepped over it without even realizing what she’d done. Nick had suddenly begun to change from a rangy, paint-splattered construction worker into a handsome, desirable man. In his presence, she felt young and silly. She even giggled. When he flirted with her and teased her, she flirted right back.

  Nick’s blue eyes had burned into her mind, and she saw them as clearly as a pair of sapphires as she labored over her turkeytetrazzini and broccoli-chicken casseroles. Their conversations replayed in her mind from the moment she awoke alone in the morning until she finally fell asleep at night in her cold bed beside her silent, distant husband.

  “Brenda?” Steve’s voice suddenly filled the master bedroom, startling her into a guilty flush. “Are you all right?”

  She lifted her head and tried to look at the man she had married so many years before. She recognized his familiar shape in the doorway, but where was Steve? What had become of the boyish athlete who had swept her off her feet? Why did she suddenly long to run away from this stranger in her bedroom, run down the road and through the woods and into a pair of arms that smelled like warm flannel and fresh-cut pine?

  “I’m fine,” she managed. “Fine. Really.”

  As she pictured herself standing inside Nick’s embrace, Brenda’s pretend world suddenly crashed before her like a Christmas ornament shattering on the floor. As she imagined herself racing toward Nick, she pictured his wife opening the door of their mobile home. His grandchildren would be seated around the dinner table. He would look quizzically at Brenda and ask why she had come and what on earth she was doing on his doorstep. Clueless, he would recall only that he had showed her how to paint corners that morning. He would be dumbfounded if she told him she had made up her mind to escape to a cabin in Colorado and that she wanted him to go with her so they could live together happily ever after.

  People didn’t do ridiculous things like that. Nick wouldn’t want such a life. Neither would Brenda. She had a husband, three children, a nice home, and a neighborhood. She was a Christian and went to church and had taught Vacation Bible School every summer for fifteen years.

  “What are you thinking about?” Steve asked, taking a step closer to the bed.

  “Vacation Bible School.”

  “Are you planning to help out again this summer?”

  She stared at him, blinking. Noah’s ark. Daniel in the lions’ den. The Ten Commandments. All her life, Brenda had known the stories, the rules, the morals and codes of the Christian faith. As a little girl in St. Louis, she had realized that lying to her parents and slapping her little sister were sins. Not only had she hurt her family, but her behavior had displeased God, too. Filled with remorse, she had repented, given control of her life to Jesus, and been b
aptized. Her own children had grown up with Christ at the center of their world—so much so that Jennifer was now in Africa doing missionary work, teaching people about God, and leading them away from evil and toward the light.

  “Brenda?” Steve asked again. He looked down at her, concern etched on his face. “Are you sure you feel okay? You look pale.”

  “I’m not going to teach Vacation Bible School this year,” she said. “You know I’m not going to church anymore.”

  “How come, Brenda?” He sat down beside her on the end of the bed. “What’s wrong? Can you just tell me what’s going on with you?”

  “I’m not sure where God is these days. I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m so tired of everything…the past, the way I used to be, my old way of thinking.”

  “I liked the old you,” Steve said. “You were happy and busy. We used to do things together.”

  “That’s over now, isn’t it?”

  “What? No, nothing’s different. God is still right here with us. We’re married. We have this house with the basement all fixed up. The kids are coming home tomorrow. We’ve got money and friends and our church. Things are good.”

  “Really?” She looked into his dark brown eyes. “But you’re not here anymore…here in this marriage. And neither am I.”

  “That’s ridiculous, Brenda. Of course I’m here. I’m sitting right beside you on our bed. I come home every night, and if you’d stop feeling so hostile toward me, we could love each other and get back to normal and be happy again. I don’t exactly know how to say this, honey, but you’ve got some kind of a problem. I’m not sure what’s going on, but why don’t you go talk to Pastor Andrew? Maybe he could recommend a counselor or a doctor. Ever since Jennifer left for Africa and Justin and Jessica went off to college, you’ve been acting…well, different.”

  “So I’m the one with the problem?”

  “That’s how it looks to me. I sure don’t have any problems. I’d be fine if you could just stop giving me those icy stares all the time. I love what I’m doing, and the prospects are incredible. My agency is busy seven days a week, and houses are moving so fast I can hardly keep up. I’m thinking of expanding into commercial real estate. And in fact, I have an idea I wanted to talk to you about…but I don’t even want to broach the subject unless you can hear me out without getting mad.”

  Brenda moistened her lips. Mad? How could she be angry at someone who didn’t even exist?

  Steve was sitting there beside her, so familiar and yet so irrelevant. He was talking, but she couldn’t concentrate on the flow of his words. She could no longer make him matter.

  It had nothing to do with the kids leaving home or Nick LeClair murmuring in her ear. It was Steve. He had walked away, and finally—after crying and raging and hurting for weeks on end—finally Brenda had shut the door behind him…and locked it.

  “You can say whatever you want,” she told him. “I won’t get mad.”

  “Well, it’s about the strip mall at Tranquility.” He practically jumped off the bed and began to pace around the room. “I’m sure you’ve heard that someone wants to put in an adult-video rental store. Patsy’s beside herself over it, and Pete drew up a petition to protest it. He’s got enough names to make a strong case to the landlord. Dr. Hedges is furious. He’s threatening to move his business. Parking is limited at the mall, and Dr. Hedges doesn’t want his chiropractic patients having to leave their cars in front of a pornography shop. So there’s a good possibility that we can put a stop to this thing just by pressuring the owner. But, Brenda, I’ve been thinking about…well, about buying the strip mall.”

  “Oh,” she said, her voice flat.

  “It would mean we’d have to go into debt for a while, but I think we could swing it. The kids’ college costs are covered, and you and I both have new cars. With the basement almost finished and that cost budgeted in, we don’t need to fix anything else around here.”

  “Except our marriage,” she put in.

  “What?” He shook his head. “Listen, our marriage is fine. Something’s wrong with you—probably just a midlife thing. I’ve asked you to go see Pastor Andrew. Please do that. If anyone can help you, Brenda, it’s him.”

  “I see.”

  “What I’m trying to get across is that I’m pretty sure I can rent out every space in the mall—to good people. It won’t be easy, and I’ve never done anything like this before. There’s a possibility that we could take a financial hit. But you know how hard I work and how much I believe in the future of the lake. So this could be a great thing for us. We might even make a lot of money, Brenda. A lot. What do you think?”

  She picked at the green paint on her wedding ring. “I don’t know. I’d have to—”

  “Hang on. I’ve got a call coming in.” He reached for his cell phone. “It’s Justin,” he mouthed to Brenda as he glanced at the caller ID and took the call.

  “Hey, bud,” Steve said into the phone. “We’re looking forward to seeing you on Saturday. Everything okay down there?” He paused and glanced at Brenda. “Your mom’s right here. Do you want to talk to her?…Okay, well, just tell me about it, then.”

  Falling silent for some time, Steve alternated between studying his wife and facing the bank of bedroom windows that overlooked the lake. “Yes, I hear you, but…Justin, you know what that’s going to mean…. Well, I can’t stop you, but I wish you’d think about how this will affect your mother and me. What about Jessica?” He paused. “Are you serious? Is there any possibility you might have mentioned this before now?…All right…. No, I’m not going to argue with you—just be careful. We love you, Son. Bye now.”

  Steve’s jaw tightened as he shook his head. He let out a deep breath. “Justin has decided to drive down to Padre Island with a bunch of friends for the entire spring break,” he told Brenda. “He’s got the money, and he’s twenty-one, and there’s not a thing we can do about it. They came up with the plan last night, and they’re heading out tomorrow morning.”

  Feeling as though she might suddenly be sick, Brenda sat with her mouth open.

  “Jessica’s still coming home on Saturday, though. She asked Justin to let us know that she’ll be with us through the Easter church service, but that afternoon she’s heading south. Her new boyfriend’s family owns a cabin on Table Rock Lake, and they’ve invited her to join them. Josh’s dad teaches religion classes at Southwest Baptist University, and Jessica told Justin to assure us that they’ll be chaperoned and everything will be all right.”

  “But that’s just two days,” Brenda said. “Twenty-four hours with only one of our children.”

  Steve pushed his hands into the pockets of his slacks and stared at his wife. “They’re not children anymore, Brenda,” he said gently. “They’re all grown up. You have to accept that. You’re on your own.”

  She stood and stepped toward the bathroom to put on her pajamas. “I know,” she said. “I figured that out.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Well, look at you, Miss Jessica Hansen,” Patsy exclaimed as the young woman and her mother walked through the door of Just As I Am. “Aren’t you the belle of the ball, the homecoming queen, the sweetheart of Lake of the Ozarks! You get more beautiful every time I see you. I bet those boys at Missouri State are tripping over their own feet to get dates with you!”

  Patsy had been cutting Jessica’s hair since she was eight years old. The two were close friends, and Jessica had always openly shared with Patsy the details of her many activities and feelings. Patsy was eager to catch up with her now that she’d been away from home for several months.

  Jessica laughed. “You’re my biggest fan, Patsy. All I am in the beauty department, I owe to you.”

  “Now, that’s quite a compliment! You and your mom make yourselves at home, and I’ll be with you in a minute. From here, it looks like all you’ll need is a little trim.” Patsy squirted a mist of hair spray over her seated customer’s perfect coif. “How are you getting along these days, Brenda? Seen
anything of Cody?”

  Mother and daughter, so alike in size and appearance, settled into chairs in the waiting area. Both in blue jeans and simple, solid-colored tops, they might be sisters except for the age difference. Even that wasn’t easy to spot, Patsy realized. Jessica had matured over the months of her freshman year at MSU. Her face and figure were transforming from teenage gangliness into fullfledged, curvaceous womanhood. Brenda Hansen, who lately appeared to be shedding pounds like a molting hen, had always been lovely. She looked much younger than her forty-five years, and it was no wonder she had managed to catch such a handsome husband.

  Brenda spoke up. “Pete Roberts told me he saw someone rooting around in the Dumpster behind the Italian restaurant the other day. He thought it might be Cody, but when Pete got close, the man ran off into the woods.”

  Patsy finished with her client and began the endless sweeping and tidying that the law required to keep her salon in business. As she bent to brush the hair into a dustpan, she said a little prayer for Cody. Wherever he was, the poor man no doubt needed help and protection. The memory of Cody running out of her salon brought Pete Roberts to mind for the hundredth time that day, and Patsy struggled to keep her focus on godliness and peace.

  For the past three days, the man had been repairing another chain saw next door. Every time her salon got quiet enough for the music to drift through the room and the tinkle of teacups to be heard, that blasted machine started up—ripping away the silence and ending the peaceful mood she worked so hard to create. She had only a few more hours to go before shutting down for the Easter weekend, but Patsy felt sure that if she heard that whining buzz one more time, she might launch herself right through the dividing wall and whack her neighbor over the head with one of his fishing rods.

  “Come on over here, Miss Jessica,” she called. “I’m ready for you now.”