“That’s so nice of you. My brother, Nick, is coming on Tuesday, so that will help.” She paused. “I hate to impose, but do you think you could spend some time with her tomorrow evening? Would that be convenient?”
“Of course. I’ll come right after work. I can be there by 6:15. Is she at St. Mary’s Hospital?”
“Yes. I really appreciate it, Trudie. Thank you.”
As Trudie was loading the dishwasher, the inevitable awful thought arose: what would they do if Mrs. Childs was too sick to attend the Christmas performance, or if she died? It was all being planned for her—to honor, uplift and entertain her. Should they make alternative plans just in case? Should she call the others and get their opinions? No. She would wait until she saw Mrs. Childs tomorrow night. She’d make the decision then.
Trudie lay in bed until 2am, wide awake, mind spinning. She finally threw back the quilt, slipped on her robe and went downstairs to make hot chocolate. Leaning against the counter, gently stirring the milk and chocolate syrup, she shivered a little. The temperature outside was in the single digits, 6 or 8 degrees. Another quiet and lonely night.
She sat at the kitchen table sipping the hot chocolate. Soon the whole house would be in motion, with Kristen, Mary Ann and her two daughters romping, talking, and filling all the quiet spaces. Within two weeks, Trudie’s life would be hectic and unpredictable, boiling with activity, emotion and responsibility. The past would come alive again with old faces, old stories and new possibilities. It was an exciting and scary thought.
Trudie stood by the sink and rinsed her cup, allowing her mind to settle on Mrs. Childs. She had supported and inspired them all. Her class had been challenging, fun and controversial, even 20 years ago.
“Don’t just walk through life and complain about its constant challenges,” Mrs. Childs often said. “Be a lion. Roar at life. Be courageous and, most of all, learn how to be happy. If you don’t know how? Make it up. Pretend, just like you do on that stage up there. Just act and pretend until, finally, one day, it becomes part of you.”
Back in bed, Trudie prayed for her old teacher. She prayed for her renewed health and well-being. She thanked God for Mrs. Childs’ strong and good influence, and then Trudie selfishly prayed that God would give her teacher the health and strength to rise up and attend the Christmas show.
At that same moment, two doctors were summoned to Mrs. Myrna Childs’ hospital room. She had developed pneumonia; she was fighting for her life.
ELEVEN
Mary Ann O’Brian pulled her daughters out of school two days early and flew to Columbus, Ohio on Wednesday December 17th, arriving at 2:30 in the afternoon. An excited Trudie met them at the exit gate, embracing Mary Ann warmly and offering Lynn and Carly hugs. Lynn, being the friendlier, hugged back, while Carly stood aloof and distracted, her half-hooded eyes focused on a handsome boy who had been on the same plane and now strolled by.
Trudie quickly perceived that Mary Ann had added pounds and hair since the last time she’d seen her. She’d always kept her curly red hair relatively short, and had always been full-figured, even voluptuous, with full breasts and broad hips. The new weight rounded her breasts and expanded her hips, giving her an “earth mother” appearance. Her now long, red hair was pulled back, with just a few wispy strands coming loose from a clip that rested at the back of her head. That one feature added an arty, sexy quality. The easy smile was the same, the laughing eyes and the relaxed manner, the same, and so Trudie responded as she always had to her good friend, with relaxed pleasure at being in her company.
Lynn was built like her mother, with dancing eyes that took in everything. Carly was a tall, California blonde, with lots of attitude, and a thumb that could text faster than anyone else Trudie had ever seen.
Driving to Deer Lake, Trudie tried to engage the girls in conversation about their new lives in California, their new house and their new school. She received simple phrases or one word answers, while the girls glared into their phones.
Mary Ann gave Trudie a side-long glance, her expression both resigned and annoyed. Then she whispered, “When you want to be proud of them, they always embarrass you.”
Mary Ann twisted around to face them. “Ladies, please put your phones away and look out the window or something. There are other things to do besides play with your phones.”
Carly made an ugly face as she lowered her phone. Lynn obeyed, staring out into the snowy landscape with sudden wide-eyed bewilderment, as if she’d just noticed it.
“It’s looks so cold out there,” she said.
“Duh. It is cold,” Carly responded, bluntly. “It’s Ohio in December.”
Mary Ann turned to Trudie. “They’ve become such warm weather snobs ever since we moved to California.”
“I love the snow in December,” Trudie said. “It wouldn’t be Christmas without snow and cold weather. Now, January and February, that’s different. Give me Southern California.”
“You’ll have to come and visit, Trudie. You’ll love it. We’re close to the beach. You can hear the ocean as you drift off to sleep at night.”
“I’ll come,” Trudie said. “You won’t have to ask me twice.”
“It’s been too long,” Mary Ann said. “We have to stay in touch more.”
Trudie agreed as she turned right, and they traveled down a winding road, under a moving white winter sky. “I’m so glad you came early. Things have really gotten hectic. The town’s response has been overwhelming. Ray and Connie Baker...” Trudie paused, looking over. “You remember Connie?”
“Sure, voted most friendly. Cheerleader. Married Bud somebody?”
“Yes, she and Ray and I have been inundated with emails and calls. So Ray, Connie and I got together and we decided, why not charge for the show? We could pay for the expenses and then use what ever is left over to start a college scholarship fund in Mrs. Childs’ name. Connie has a degree in Business. She agreed to handle the banking and the ticketing, as well as the details of setting up the scholarship.”
Mary Ann’s eyes filled with delight. “What a great idea!”
“Everything has been moving so fast. Ray and I have been struggling to think everything through. He’s been coordinating logistics and then following up with me. There are so many details, and one thing snowballs into the other.”
“How much are you charging for the tickets?” Mary Ann asked, energized, oblivious to her daughters, who were once again texting, surfing and playing games.
“Connie decided on fifteen dollars. The auditorium is already sold out.”
“I had no idea it would take off like that,” Mary Ann said, amazed, staring past Trudie into the distance as she thought about it. Her eyes were shining, thrilled by the possibilities. “If I remember right, the auditorium seats about eight hundred. That’s somewhere around twelve thousand dollars!”
“Yes. We thought that was a fair price, but now Ray thinks we should have charged more, because people are upset that they can’t get in.”
Mary Ann was seized by an idea. “So why not have two shows? One at say 5 p.m. and one at 8 o’clock?”
Trudie was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that her fingers hurt. She released it, one hand at a time and, opening and closing her fingers, she felt her heart race.
“We thought about that... but we have to clear it with the principal of the school and with all the others: the performers, musicians. Oh, and Molly Cahill has just emailed to say she’s coming. She’ll do the choreography.”
“I love Molly. She’ll be a great choreographer. She can get all of us looking good up there if anybody can.”
“She owns a yoga studio in Louisville, Kentucky and teaches dance to kids. Anyway, we’d have to redo the programs and print more. It’s becoming a logistics nightmare. And we’re not going to have a lot of time for rehearsals.”
Mary Ann twisted her lips up in thought, readjusting her legs. “Where will the rehearsals be?”
“In the basement of the Methodist
church where Ray plays the piano on Sundays.”
“Sugar Hill Methodist?” Mary Ann asked.
“Yes, you remember?”
“Of course. Oscar and I went there when we were dating. I went because my mother wanted me to. Of course we never listened to the sermon. We sat in the back, touching and making love eyes.”
The land leveled out. Trudie sat back in her seat and tried to relax. The sky was lowering and appeared heavy with snow. “Has Oscar contacted you again?”
Mary Ann lowered her voice. “Yes... but I’m not really looking forward to... well, you know. It was a long time ago. We were high school kids. I’m sure we’ve both changed a lot.”
“I liked Oscar. He was always thoughtful and respectful.”
Mary Ann turned serious. “How is Mrs. Childs?”
“Julie brought her home a couple days ago. I spoke to her briefly this morning. She’s better, but still weak. Thank God they caught the pneumonia right away. That could have killed her.”
“I want to see her,” Mary Ann said. “When do you think we can go?”
“I’ll call Julie.”
Mary Ann glanced back at her daughters, checking on their phone status. They dropped the phones into their laps and swiftly faced the windows, faking interest.
Mary Ann turned back to Trudie. “Did you spend much time at the hospital with her?”
“I went three times, twice to relieve Julie and Nick. Mrs. Childs didn’t talk much. She just took my hand and squeezed it. She blinked and smiled and I sat with her while she slept.”
Mary Ann looked at Trudie, pointedly. “I definitely want to spend some time alone with her. Do you think Julie will mind?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
Mary Ann paused, considering her words. “I’m a healer,” she said.
Trudie glanced over. “A healer?”
“I don’t mean I’m any kind of a miracle worker or anything, but I can help people feel better. Sometimes, wonderful things happen. I’ve been practicing for almost eight years now.”
“I didn’t know,” Trudie said, as she took the exit off the expressway, slowing down.
“I don’t talk about it. People think you’re crazy if you talk about it. Not so much in Southern California, but... well, anyway,” she concluded, leaving it hanging. “I just want to spend some time alone with her.”
“You always were interested in the occult,” Trudie said. “What kind of healing do you do?”
“A combination of techniques I’ve learned and practiced. One is Reiki. Ever hear of it?”
“Yes. There’s a woman in town that does it, I think. One of my patients told me about her. I don’t really know what it is though.”
Trudie glanced into her rearview mirror and noticed the girls were on their phones again. She stayed mute. They were driving past a new car lot and some fast food restaurants, the same scenery one could see in nearly every town in America.
Mary Ann continued. “Reiki is a Japanese healing technique for stress reduction and relaxation that helps promote healing. It’s based on the idea that an unseen ‘life force energy’ flows through all of us and that is what gives us life. If the life force energy is low, we are more likely to get sick or stressed. If it’s high, we are likely to be happy and healthy.”
“Sounds like we could all use some of that,” Trudie said, approaching the turn off to her street.
“I’ll give you a free session,” Mary Ann said.
“Next, you’ll be teaching us how to levitate,” Trudie said, lightly.
“Why not?”
They laughed.
Minutes later, Trudie drove up the driveway to her garage.
Inside the house, Mary Ann got reacquainted with the house she’d spent so much time in during high school. She loved the new color schemes, the new furniture and the modern kitchen. Then they argued about who would sleep in what bedroom. Trudie insisted that Mary Ann take her bedroom and the girls move into the bedroom across the hall. Kristen would stay in the back bedroom at the end of the hall. Mary Ann protested, saying she’d sleep in the den.
“No, Mary Ann. I’ve got the whole thing figured out. The queen sleeper sofa in the den is comfortable and the room is very quiet. No questions or arguments.”
Carly and Lynn wandered the house with renewed interest. They explored the rooms and found the unexpected back oak staircase that spiraled up to the second floor. Then Trudie led the way as Mary Ann and the girls ascended the pull-down attic ladder to the vast remodeled attic, with polished wood floors and bay windows.
Trudie opened boxes of old clothes and hats and the girls delighted in trying some on, posing before a full-length mirror. Lynn was absorbed by a large box of straw and feathered hats with veils, while Carly turned to an old trunk. Inside, she found a vintage dress that belonged to Trudie’s mother in the 1950s. Her soft blue eyes filled with excitement and imagination. She looked at her mother and then to Trudie for permission. Mary Ann shook her head. Trudie nodded. “Go ahead, Carly. Take it out.”
Carly slowly reached down into the oak trunk and carefully removed the acid free tissue. She gently lifted the lacy chiffon dress, fascinated, lost in a dream. She studied the special stitching, the beads and sequins and pearls, allowing her fingers to touch them and explore the cool, soft fabric.
Mary Ann and Trudie exchanged inquiring glances. Mary Ann shrugged, watching as Carly meticulously unraveled the light yellow dress and held it up next to her chin, examining herself in the mirror. It was full length and elegant; it would be a perfect fit. Carly was entranced, her imagination carrying her off to a glamorous party, where a handsome man in a tuxedo drifted over and offered her a chilled martini, with a glowing green olive. Not that she’d ever drunk a martini, but that didn’t matter. It was the dress that created the magic, the mood and the romance.
“I love this,” she said, softly, turning with the dress, moving to the sound of distant music.
Lynn studied her. “Wow! Look at you. That dress is awesome.”
Trudie stepped to the side of the mirror, watching Carly, who was romantically medicated by her inner movie.
“Would you like to wear the dress to the Christmas show, Carly?” Trudie asked.
Carly whirled, bursting with excitement. “Can I?”
Mary Ann inched forward, apprehensive. “Trudie... that’s an heirloom.”
Carly’s pretty face was glowing. “Oh, yes... Can I?”
Trudie nodded. “Yes. You’ll look gorgeous in it.”
Carly reached, giving Trudie a one-armed hug. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Lynn, lifting the veil on the black feathered hat she had on, turned to Trudie, frowning. “Is there something in that trunk I could wear with this hat?”
Mary Ann blew out a sigh. “Girls... please.”
Trudie indicated toward the trunk. “Take a look. You might find something.”
The girls stayed in the attic while Mary Ann and Trudie went to the kitchen to prepare dinner.
“You’re too generous, Trudie,” Mary Ann said. “That is a stunning dress and yes, Carly will look fabulous in it, but what if she rips it or spills something on it?”
“So be it. It’s better to be worn by a pretty young girl who appreciates it, than it is to lie in that old, musty trunk rotting away. To tell you the truth, I’d forgotten all about it.”
When Trudie’s phone rang, she glanced over to see who it was. It was Don Rawlings. She stared at the phone with a certain nervous reluctance. Finally, she answered.
“Hi, Trudie, it’s Don. Is this a good time?”
“Yes. Fine, Don. How are you?”
“Good. Got back late yesterday. I just talked to Ray and he told me things are really moving along with the Christmas show.”
“Yes. It’s a little overwhelming.”
“I was thinking... I know it’s short notice, but if you’re free, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”
Trudie swallowed. She’d like
nothing more. “Well, actually, I have guests staying with me. An old high school friend and her two daughters.”
Mary Ann looked over and waved her hand as if to say, go ahead.
“Oh, right. I guess people are already coming into town.”
“Yes... Don, can you hold a minute?”
Trudie covered the phone with her hand. “This is a guy I met. He’s helping to raise money for the show.”
Mary Ann was peeling potatoes. “Invite him over. Why not?”
Trudie shrugged and uncovered the phone. “Don, why don’t you come over for dinner? Believe it or not, we’re having chicken, and I have lots of ketchup.”
He laughed. “I don’t want to intrude. Why don’t we make it another time?”
“You won’t be intruding. Really.”
“I’d better stay home and practice my saxophone. Ray tells me he’s found two reindeer costumes. But thanks.”
After Trudie hung up, she raked her fingers through her hair, struggling to appear at ease. She felt a strong drumming in her chest.
Mary Ann kept working, giving Trudie a sidelong glance. “Is he coming?”
“No...,” Trudie said, hiding her disappointment.
“Is he good-looking?”
Trudie nodded. “Yep. Square jawed, tall, with a deep voice. Just my type.”
“It’s a shame he’s not coming. I haven’t had dinner with a handsome man in a long time.”
TWELVE
Myrna Childs was lying in bed, covers up to her chin, feeling weaker than she’d ever felt in her entire life. Her body was heavy and unresponsive, like a big block of stone—even though she—her spirit—still felt young and light. Inside, she did not feel like an old woman of 76, but outside, her body was becoming a weary old friend.
She was still having some difficulty breathing, each inhalation a struggle, but it wasn’t as painful as it had been in the hospital. She had begged Julie to get her out of that God-forsaken place and take her home. If she was to improve—or if she was to die—she wanted to be home in her own bed, even if that home and bed were in Julie’s house.
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