by M. Mabie
Except... I was going there with her and then bringing her back with me. Both truths brought me as much peace as I’d find, and I fell asleep.
MYRA HAD A STACK OF clothes, hair tools, and shoes on the bed and an overflowing gallon freezer bag beside them.
“Do you have a suitcase?” she called from the bottom of our shared closet.
I stuck my head around the door and found her crouched next to a box, one of her old dresses in her hands. She worried her lip and her brow was pinched.
“You don’t have to wear those.”
“Yeah, I know.”
I backed up as she stood to climb out, bringing two dresses with her.
“But I might bring the nicer ones. If anything I can donate them.” Of course she would think like that.
“I only have a small duffel bag,” I said. All she’d had when she came back from the Griers were trash bags. She had the three trunks, but those weren’t leaving. “I’ll call Ashely and borrow something we can share.”
I wanted to travel with Myra in the future. Places new to both of us. Trips and adventures, we’d remember fondly and talk about long into our golden years.
We’ll need suitcases for our honeymoon, I thought.
Our status was complicated, but one way or the other, we’d come out on the other side—husband and wife in all the ways authentic to us. A good life awaited, and it was just on the horizon.
“Oh, okay. I have a bag on the table for Violet you can take them.” She cocked her hip and rested her hand on the denim jeans she wore. “I didn’t realize until now how much stuff I use every day. Hair. Makeup. Clothing choices. Shoes.” She wasn’t vain, and her style was naturally modest, but compared to her previous look it was a contrast. She blew a lock of hair from her face as she studied the bed. “We might need two.”
She had a funny mixed up look. Embarrassment. Shock. A hint of playful self-deprecation.
Grinning, I assured her, “I’ll get two.”
She scratched her head in awe of her things. “I think I’m what they call high maintenance.”
My belly shook. “Ha! No.” I cupped her blushing cheeks in my hands and kissed them both. “Not hardly. I’ll go find something, and you get what you need ready.”
She closed her eyes, so I pressed my lips against hers. “I’ll be back in a little bit. You need anything else, just call.”
Going down the porch, I spun my truck keys around my finger, then came to a halt before marching back inside. I tossed my keyring on the counter and grabbed Myra’s instead. We’d take her car to Lancaster, and I’d fill it up while in town.
The car smelled more tropical than when I’d borrowed it from Chris, and I had to do a major seat adjustment just to get inside.
I made a few calls on the drive, and it turned out Ashley had bags we could use.
“Hell, borrow them for as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere,” she’d said on the phone.
I was glad I’d called first because she was just about to feed the baby. So I rode to the gas station to give them time to do what they needed. The tank was only half-empty, but I topped it off.
Taking her car, instead of my truck would be for the best. Maybe we’d slip into town unnoticed. At least, for a while.
When I finally knocked on Ashley’s front door, I was greeted with a cheerful, “Come on in, Abe.”
“Myra sent these,” I said and handed her the full brown paper sack. She loved picking up things for Violet when she saw them.
“She needs to stop,” Ashley demanded with a grateful smile. “You hang out in here with Ms. Brighteyes and I’ll run down to the basement and get those cases.” She bent over and tickled the baby’s cheek. “I’ll be right back,” she sang to her.
“Hey, no. I’ll go down and get them.” I hated putting her out even more.
“Are you kidding? I need the stretch. I’ve been sitting forever.” She walked around the coffee table toward the hall and the basement door. “Violet, watch your Uncle Abe for me.”
I sat on the couch in front of the baby, strapped into her bouncy thing, arms moving. It was one of the few times I’d seen her with her eyes open. Ashley was right though; they were big and lively.
“Hello there, Violet.” I didn’t have much experience with babies, so I wasn’t sure what to talk about, but her head bobbled my way when I spoke like she was paying attention. “Whatcha doin’? Just taking it all in?” I went back and forth on who she looked like more. Her features were Ashley’s, but her expressions were all Chris.
As one does, I leaned forward and put my finger in her hand, swaying it against the ducky-patterned blanket Myra had sewn. “You’re going to get big too fast, aren’t you?”
What had looked like a hiccup proved to be more when some upchuck spilled out her mouth. “Oh no.” I wiped it up with a rag tucked in beside her. “We don’t need that.”
Banging up the stairs, Ashley reappeared with two black pieces of luggage. The small one was more than I’d need, but I’d bring Myra what she asked for.
“You talk to Vi like Chris does.” She laughed. “Like an adult. Will these work?” The big one rolled forward, and she plopped the other on top of it.
I nodded and swiped the last bit of spit off her daughter’s lip.
“Crap, did she puke, and how long are you going to be gone?” she asked in one long string of words like the two things were related.
I wasn’t sure what to answer first. “Yes, but just a little and we got cleaned right up. Didn’t we?” Violet and I shared a high-five. “And I don’t know. Not long, I hope.”
She grimaced. “How’s she doing? What about her classes?”
I wasn’t sure if it was some mommy-multitasking thing Ashley was doing with all the questions, but it was making my head spin bouncing from one thing to the next.
Probably because I didn’t have any of the answers. “I think she’s doing all right considering.” Considering how confusing it must have been. I would have been conflicted about a lot of things if one of my parents had passed away so soon after I’d left all those years ago. I put the brakes on that train of thought and answered her other question. “And she’s pretty set on that GED, so I’m certain she’ll be fine.”
Ash bit her nail, concerned, and I was grateful that there were others who really cared for Myra. People having your back was sometimes the best armor.
She sat on the arm of the recliner. “How are you? You hate Lancaster. Think your dad’s gonna try to pull some shi...crap?” she corrected. “I have to watch my mouth.”
“I wouldn’t put it past him. But, if there’s anything good in him, he won’t. Not at a time like this.” Then again, Jacob’s funeral hadn’t been enough to keep him from wielding power and taking advantage of something tragic. He’d tried to gain from Myra’s predicament and tried to guilt me into returning. And Jacob had been his flesh and blood.
She frowned and then leaned forward, glancing at her phone. “You got a few extra minutes to hang out? I could change the laundry and load the dishwasher?” Ashley’s brows drew up her forehead, and she plastered a pleading smile.
She was doing us a favor after all. “I don’t want to leave Myra alone long, but we’re not pulling out of town until later.”
“I’ll hurry.” She popped right up. “You two talk about the weather.”
A few minutes later, I sent Myra a text with a picture of the luggage.
ME: I’ll be back soon. Ashley is doing a few things while I’m here first.
With a sleeping Violet in the crook of my crossed leg, I waited for her reply.
MYRA: Take your time. How’s the baby?
I snapped a photo of my view and sent it too.
ME: I swear she was awake a few minutes ago, cooing and looking around. I guess my conversation put her to sleep.
MYRA: lol What were you talking about?
ME: I was asking her what kind of wood she’d like for a rocking horse.
While Violet’s lashes
fluttered as she slept, I thought about how proud I was of my girl for being brave enough to take her life into her own hands and choose for herself about her health and what she wanted. However, there’d come a day when we were both ready for a child, and I looked forward to it.
She’d be a wonderful mother when the right time came. I’d do my best to keep up.
Still, I couldn’t deny that every time I was around Chris and Ashley’s tiny person, the idea seemed more appealing. Exciting even.
It was a great reminder when I’d needed one that even though it would be a hell of a week, we had good things ahead.
MYRA: She probably thought you said slumber instead of lumber.
I chuckled so loud it startled the baby.
She was joking, or at very least being sarcastic. That was good, right?
ME: The truth is out. Do I bore you too?
MYRA: So board. Hahaha!
“You’re Aunt Myra is silly, Violet,” I whispered, feeling some anxiety loosen its hold in my chest. Maybe a few minutes with a baby was just what I needed to relax.
“And your Uncle Abe is in love, and it’s so gross,” Ash teased, a towel on her head. Yeah, she also took a shower while I was there, but—true to her word—she’d been quick about everything. I hadn’t been there much longer than thirty minutes total. “Just kidding. It’s not that gross, but it is weird.”
I didn’t think so. Not anymore.
“Weird? This coming from a woman with purple hair?”
With mock offense, she argued, “It’s a tribute to my first born. Okay?”
I hadn’t thought about it like that, and since she mentioned it, it was fitting.
“Anyway, thank you for sticking around. I needed that half-hour.”
Careful not to wake her, I lifted the sleeping baby but before I could put her down in the bouncy chair thing, Ashley took her from me. She kissed the top of her child’s head and settled into the other end of the couch. “I have to go back to work in a few weeks and I won’t be around to soak up this love all day.” She nuzzled the top of Violets head. “But I can today.”
I left the two of them, promising Myra and I would keep in touch and travel safely.
5
Myra
I’d thought I wanted to drive, hoping it would distract me. It didn’t. In fact my thoughts were making the road hard to focus on. Not more than a few miles down the road, I pulled over.
After putting my car in park, I pulled a blue thread from my long denim skirt. It was modern, but long and I guess it just seemed like a compromise and since there were so many feelings and opinions roaring in my head, the skirt had seemed like an easy choice.
“I was wrong. Can you drive?”
Without hesitation, he released his seat belt, and we switched places.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, shifting into gear and pulling away from the shoulder. “I don’t want to pester you, but I’ll listen.”
Where would I even start?
My family still hadn’t called. Was I angry? Was I sad? Was I guilty that I hadn’t called to check up on my father in a few days? He couldn’t talk to me on the phone, but sometimes the ladies at the home would give me updates and sometimes they were vague.
Maybe I should have visited more often. Did my brothers assume I didn’t care anymore? None of them besides Matthew had even attempted to reach out to me since I’d moved away—at least as far as I knew. I’d given my phone number to all my sisters-in-law, but they never called either.
What about my nieces and nephews? Had I abandoned them? I’d been a staple in most of their little lives and leaving Lancaster had been such a major change in mine.
I’d been distracted. At first, because I was so focused on being a good wife. Whatever that meant. Then at the Grier’s, my focus shifted to school and information.
Since leaving, I hadn’t really thought much about them. I think the way they brought me up had fostered that sorted way of thinking. After I left, I put my love and feelings for them in a box, stuck it on a shelf, and didn’t look back.
In those first few days and weeks, I was too busy trying to figure out what I should want, what I should do, and what I should be feeling, instead of what I was.
My feelings for Abe were an exception.
I was sure I loved him. Sure I wanted to be with him.
Beside me, he was glancing from me to the road, every few seconds waiting for an answer.
Of course, he’d listen if I needed him to. “I know you will. Thank you.”
He reached over the small console and brought my left hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “You’re not in this by yourself.” According to my left hand I was. My ring hung around his neck, although he still wore his on his right hand.
That was just another thing we’d need to figure out. Our bands. If we were truly living in accordance to the church’s ways, we’d both have our rings on our left hands now. We were married, and the union had been consummated.
But, like with what I was wearing, something in me wanted to rebel—even just a little. I wasn’t the same woman I was a few months ago. I didn’t believe all the things I’d been taught anymore. Mostly because I didn’t trust the sources. The leaders in my life had been liars.
Then, like it had all day, my mind rapidly shifted to something else as if it were on a non-stop shuffle.
School.
When he let go of my hand to drive, I pulled out my phone, searched for Mr. Paxton’s contact info that I’d stored inside it, and created a new email to him.
Subject: Funeral and absence.
Mr. Paxton,
I will not be in class for the next few nights. My father died, and I’ll be out of town. I know that it’s Math week, so I’ll do my best to review the guides when I can. I hope I don’t fall too far behind because I’m not great at math anyway.
I just wanted you to know I’m not skipping or quitting.
Thank you, Myra.
A while back, I’d found extra worksheets online for some of the math concepts I’d been struggling with and Dori printed them for me at the shop. They would come in handy since I would be flying solo for a few days. Still, I was determined to study every day like I had been.
“Are you worried about anything?” Abe asked a few more miles down the road, and I glanced over at him. He’d trimmed his beard back even more that morning and was wearing a nice black t-shirt and dark jeans. He was so handsome and concerned about me.
I hated that he was asking because he worried about me, but I also felt cared for. From the very beginning he’d always been mindful of me. So much so, that he saved me when I was nothing more than a stranger.
He would always protect me if I needed him to, there was no doubt. “I’m not worried too much about Lancaster. Just thinking.” They couldn’t do anything to me—to us—if we didn’t let them.
We were free.
It was quiet in the tiny car, so I messed with the radio until I found a station with a good song on it. As usual, it wasn’t familiar, but I liked the tune.
It wasn’t long until I got a new email notification.
Subject: re: Funeral and absence.
Myra,
I’m sorry about your father. Losing a parent is painful. Class will be here when you get back. Take your time.
Additionally, you don’t have to notify me when you’ll be absent but thank you. I would have wondered.
If you need extra assistance with math, I may know a tutor who could possibly help.
See you soon,
Dale Paxton
A tutor. That might be a good idea. After all, I had plenty more time I could use for studying, and the sooner I passed the last two sections the sooner I’d be confident enough to apply at Hobby Lobby.
I still had most of the money Abe gave me in the bank and I didn’t need much, but I was looking forward to having the job. Earning my way. It gave me motivation and something to aim for. Gave me a purpose just for me. A goal that had no
thing to do with anyone else. It made me proud of myself.
Would I have ever had the chance to do something like that in Lancaster? No.
Was that my father’s fault? Was he negligent or had he been manipulated too?
I’d never know.
We were only about thirty minutes away from Lancaster according to the Google map app on my phone. When I’d offered to drive, I’d set it up so I wouldn’t have to ask for directions. It was a handy tool.
Brashear, the small town we were riding through, had only ever been a few minutes away my whole life. Yet I’d only been through it a handful of times, including now and when I’d left with Abe. It looked perfectly normal, almost like Fairview.
It boggled my mind every time I noticed how small my world had been.
“Do you need to stop?” Abe asked. “I could use the bathroom and get a drink.”
“Sure,” I agreed.
According to him, we were going straight to the funeral home that evening. He’d spoken with Andrew Yakle at Yakle’s Funeral Home where my father was, and he was allowing us to come in private. If I wanted to leave after that, Abe assured me we’d turn around and go straight home.
We parked in front of the gas station, and he held the door open for me as I went inside.
While I washed my hands, I looked at myself in the mirror. I hadn’t added any color to my face, but before we’d left, I’d put on gloss, which had worn off. My hair was up in a messy heap on top of my head, but I liked the way it looked.
For whatever reason, I fastened up the white shirt one button higher. Was I guarding myself, hiding, or complying?
I found Abe near the coolers and pulled an apple juice out for myself.
He asked quietly, “Are you hungry?”
“No, not really.” I gave him a half-smile and wrinkled my nose. Food didn’t sound all that great.
We paid, and before I knew it, we were driving past the big white gates leading into Lancaster. It was almost dark, and the streetlights had already began coming on. It was a Monday evening, and the streets were nearly bare.