Spring in Snow Valley

by Cindy Roland Anderson

  “Where else would I be,” muttered Eli. He kicked the tire, noting the tread was wearing thin.

  Paul pulled his black Ford truck with shiny chrome in front of Eli’s rusted Nissan. He jumped out and grabbed a rope from the truck bed. “Let’s get you over to Martin’s shop.”

  Eli held up his hand. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Are you kidding me? I’ve been dying to give this beauty a job.” He patted his truck and gave a half a smile.

  Eli turned away. The law of attraction had worked, all right. He had attracted a beautiful truck, with shiny chrome and tricked-out tires, into his life— right in time to tow him to the repair shop. What a joke. Why do I keep trying?

  When he turned back, Paul was under his vehicle, hooking a rope to his axle. His hat was on the road, and when he scooted out, Eli noticed there wasn’t as much hair on Paul as there used to be. Paul picked up his hat, knocked it against his thigh to get rid of the moisture, and smashed it onto his head. He pointed at Eli. “Don’t run into the back of me.”

  Eli moistened his suddenly dry lips. Paying to fix his truck was going to cost enough; he had no desire to fix a dent in Paul’s, too. “I’ll be careful.”

  They arrived at Martin & Son Garage without incident. The two-bay garage had been around longer than the current Martin in charge. The cinderblock walls were stained with grease, snow melt, and exhaust fumes. At one time, Martin Sr. had added a chrome coating to the office area and a two-chair waiting room, a coating that had enough scuffs and dents to testify of chrome’s durability. Eli flopped into a navy plastic chair while Martin assessed the damage. The blue-and-white linoleum floor stretched out before him like a giant checkerboard. The whole place smelled like oil and dirt. Eli stared at the blank television screen, not even bothering to turn on a lame daytime talk show.

  Martin took a half hour to dig around under the hood. He came in, wiping his stained hands on an even dirtier rag. “Paul was right. The serpentine belt is gone. Unfortunately, when it came off it caused some damage to the fan, and that will need to be replaced too.”

  “What are we looking at?” Eli braced himself.

  Martin scratched his scruffy chin. “With the belt, the fan, and labor, you’re in at about three-seventy-five.”

  Eli cursed.

  Martin continued, unfazed. He’s probably heard worse. “It’ll take at least a day to get the fan in.”

  Shaking his head, Eli stared at his shoes, unable to look the guy in the eyes. Here was a man who had made something of himself. Even if he had inherited the garage, he’d not only kept the business running; he’d continued the family tradition of honest service. Eli couldn’t hold a candle to what this guy had accomplished in his life.

  Considering his options, Eli squeezed his fingers into a fist. They didn’t have savings, and they’d already put too much on the credit card for Christmas. “Don’t rush. I’ll need some time to come up with the money.” Eli had no idea where they were going to find almost four hundred dollars. He thought of the Easter money, the eighty bucks that had magically— or miraculously, according to Hailey— appeared in their mailbox. The mysterious cash would make a dent in the bill. A small dent. He hated admitting that because of those envelopes, they were closer to getting the truck fixed than if they hadn’t come. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to feel thankful when each dollar was a reminder of his failures.

  “Sounds good. Let me get your number and I’ll call you when it comes in.”

  Eli gave him the information and shuffled out the door.

  “Need a ride?” asked Paul through the open window of his shiny truck. He must have waited for Eli.

  Eli wanted to shake his fists at the heavens. He wanted to scream and shout that life wasn’t fair. He wanted to throw something, break something, curse and swear. He wanted to tell Paul to drive away and never look back— but he didn’t. He swallowed what was left of his pride and climbed into the leather passenger seat, shutting the door carefully behind him.

  “Where to?”

  “Aunt Sophie’s. I need to check on her, and then we can head home.” I can’t even afford a toilet flapper now.

  ***

  “Natalie, you have a call on line three,” a voice crackled over Dove’s PA system.

  Natalie brushed her hands on her apron and headed toward the back room, wondering what was so urgent it couldn’t wait until she got home. The break room was full. Tracie sat at one table with her friend Missy, their heads bent over Tracie’s phone and several stock boys at another. The boys were playing some game on their phones and nudged one another when she came in like they were worried she’d be upset. As long as they were on break, they could play whatever they wanted.

  She smiled at them before picking up the phone and pushing the button for line three. “Hello?”

  “Hi.”

  Eli’s voice was so low Natalie had to put her hand over her other ear to block out the kids in the corner.

  “My truck’s in the shop,” he said.

  “What? Why?” Natalie prayed Eli was okay. Eli would easily minimize personal injuries and focus on the state of the vehicle.

  “Because it broke down,” came his short reply.

  Drawing in a deep breath through her nose, Natalie held the air and her frustration in check before asking, “What, exactly, is wrong with the truck?”

  “The belt broke and hit the fan on the way down. They both need to be replaced.”

  It’s just life. People deal with car repairs all the time. “How much?” She probably should have asked if he was okay first. She was so tired of the fight to get him to communicate. Tired of trying to pry words out of him he didn’t want to give. She asked for nothing more than she ultimately needed to get on with her day. Struck by the sorry state of her marriage, tears built, and Natalie turned her back on the room.

  “More than we have.”

  “Since we have nothing, that doesn’t tell me much.” Why does he have to make it so hard?

  There was a sharp intake of breath before Eli replied, “Three-seventy-five.”

  Natalie bit her lip. “We have the eighty from the letters.”

  “Already thought of that—it’s a drop in the bucket.”

  “A drop more than we had the day before.”

  And this means I’m not going dress shopping. Her heart sank. Why buying this dress for her daughter meant so much for her, she couldn’t say. Perhaps her disappointment was because she, too, missed the days when she could spoil her kids. Only, back then, buying Oreos or Easter clothes didn’t feel like spoiling them. They had food, clothing, shelter, and love. But they couldn’t go to the movies with friends or buy shakes at Big C’s for family night. And then there was the car they’d had to sell. Ryan was supposed to take the Taurus to college, and they were going to buy a new one for Hailey. Neither of them had transportation, and while her head knew a third car was an extra, her heart hurt at taking something away.

  She didn’t say any of that to Eli. Aunt Sophie once told her that the secret to a happy marriage was knowing your spouse well enough that you knew what to say that would hurt them the most, and making the choice to never say those words. No matter how snappy Eli got, Natalie couldn’t blame him for all this. There wasn’t really any blame to go around. Trucks break. Companies close. People lose good jobs. Things like this happen in life. She didn’t take random happenings personally, yet Eli took everything personally. “I have to get back to work. We’ll figure things out. We always do.”

  “Bye.”

  Natalie paused, missing his regular love ya, before saying, “Bye.”

  Chapter 7

  The next few days were tense at the Lawson household. The atmosphere wasn’t improved by the daily arrival of encouraging notes filled with cash. Some days the mail truck delivered more than others. Natalie was grateful for each one. Not as much for the money, although the continual growth of the truck repair fund eased her mind; the real treasure was the messages inside th
at lifted her heart.

  Peggy from Utah wrote about her dark times and how Jesus’s light guided her through. Maya from Colorado reminded them that a strong family was a blessing. And Denise from Washington wished them a happy Easter filled with comfort from the Holy Spirit. Almost everyone offered kind words of encouragement that lifted Natalie’s spirits. Knowing that people cared about her and her family, even if they were strangers, lifted her downtrodden heart. Heaven knows, no one in Snow Valley knew how bad things really were. Eli would have a coronary if she submitted their names for Pastor James’s prayer circle.

  Instead of heading right home after work, Natalie made her way to Aunt Sophie’s. Since they were down to one vehicle, Natalie had to kill some time before she picked up Ryan from an afterschool council meeting. The students were busy keeping up with the Bucks for Bunnies donations and planning the Senior Dinner Dance, which was still a couple months away.

  Buster, bundled up in all his Elmer Fudd gear, was coming out of the house when Natalie went in.

  “Oh.” He drew back in surprise when Natalie opened the door. “Didn’t see you there, chipmunk.”

  Natalie grinned. Buster gave everyone nicknames, and they stuck for life. Some were better than others. Natalie earned chipmunk when she was a toddler with chubby cheeks. “Hey, Buster, how’s things?”

  “I could complain, but you probably don’t have time for my list.”

  Not sure where to go with that, Natalie said, “Okay. Well, it was good to see you.” She patted him on the shoulder of his oversized coat.

  Buster let himself out, and Natalie called for Aunt Sophie.

  “In here, darlin’.” Aunt Sophie was in the family room, watching a rerun of Jeopardy. “Who is Condorman?” she yelled at the TV.

  “That is correct,” answered the host.

  “Wohoo, I’m on a roll.” Aunt Sophie clapped her hands.

  Natalie settled into her uncle’s old recliner, letting the weight of the last few days press her into the thin fabric. After a few minutes of staring off into space, Natalie noticed how quiet the room was, and that her aunt was staring at her instead of watching the now muted show. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

  Aunt Sophie shook her head. “I know that face, and I’m sorry.”

  Confused, Natalie asked, “For what?”

  “Let me tell you something. I was married to three different men—”

  Natalie jerked back. “You were married before Uncle Liam?” She ran her hand protectively over the arm of the recliner.

  “Nope. I only had one marriage,” said Aunt Sophie with a twinkle in her eye.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I married my sweetheart. Liam was a gentleman through and through, and he knew how to make my heart race. I loved that man enough to pledge my life to him.” She cleared her throat.

  “After we’d been married for a while, things got tough. Our livestock died off because of hoof-and-mouth disease, and we had to sell our ranch and move into town. Liam got work as a mechanic when people around here could afford him. Our purse was so empty, it echoed when you dropped in a nickel.

  “Liam became bitter and depressed and a jerk. By the end of the year, I couldn’t stand to be in the same room with him, let alone kiss the man. We spent five years in the same house hardly saying a word to one another.”

  Natalie could relate. Not that she’d spent five years with a grizzly bear for a husband, but talking with Eli was so hard. Any time she tried, he closed off and shut her out. “What did you do?”

  “Oh, I tried everything I could think of, and then I tried things out of books and magazines; these days you’d search the Internet. When none of that worked, I threw my hands in the air and told God Liam was all His, and good luck, because I was done.”

  “It worked, right? I don’t remember you and Uncle Liam ever fighting.”

  “It took a while.” Aunt Sophie leaned back on the couch. “I don’t think God has a watch or a calendar. If He does, then He doesn’t have deadlines. I’d say it was about three years before Liam mellowed out and saw all the blessings in his life—including me.”

  Her eyes took on a faraway look. “That third husband was worth waiting for. He was the best one out of the bunch.”

  “I don’t know if I can last another three years,” confessed Natalie as she wiped her suddenly wet cheeks. “Joyce says I should leave him and find someone who actually wants to be with me.”

  Aunt Sophie fiddled with the remote control. “What I learned the hard way is that everything Liam was going through—his bad moods, his depression—none of it was about me. Liam was mad at himself. And with as much self-loathing as he held inside, it was difficult for his love for me to show through.” She patted Natalie’s knee, her hand shaking.

  Natalie stared at her aunt’s trembling fingers. “Have you checked your blood sugar today?” Her concern for her aunt jumped to the front of her thoughts.

  “Don’t you go worrying about me; you take care of that little family of yours.”

  “Still …” Natalie stood. “I’m going to get you a glass of orange juice.” She made her way into the kitchen and heard the TV come back on. She thought about her aunt’s words as she poured the juice.

  It’s not about me.

  She put the OJ back in the fridge. It sure feels about me. I’m the lonely one. I’m the one he rejects.

  And yet, he’d never done anything like this before he was fired.

  What if it isn’t about me?

  If it wasn’t about her, then nothing Natalie could do would change or improve their marriage. If it was about Eli, then all the cards were stacked on his side of the table. Any improvements in their relationship were on hold until he could figure things out.

  Just like they’d been on her side of the table several times. Like when she’d first gone to work at Dove’s. She’d resented having to leave the lifestyle she’d grown accustomed to and find a way to feel accomplished and happy in her circumstances. And she wasn’t all that great to live with while she acclimated to her new situation. Still, Eli had stayed.

  He didn’t leave when she was crazy exhausted every night from taking care of two kids under the age of three. And he stuck by her when she had her tubular pregnancy and following surgery. Those were dark times for her, and yet Eli was always there.

  So the question that followed Natalie back to the family room was, could or would Eli do the soul-searching necessary to evolve? If he was the man she believed him to be, then he would. If that man no longer existed, she had some tough decisions to make.

  Aunt Sophie sipped the juice and winked.

  The mischief twinkling in Aunt Sophie’s eyes made Natalie wonder what else she’d been up to. “By the way, did you send me and Eli some money?”

  Aunt Sophie shook her head. “Why?”

  “No reason.” Natalie was too tired to worry about the envelopes and Eli and an Easter dress for Hailey—which she was determined to have. By hook or by crook or by sewing needle. Sewing the dress had crossed her mind, but in many cases new material was just as expensive as buying a finished garment. What she needed was a dress she could alter. Maybe something a little retro with a flair for the dramatic.

  As dramatic as Aunt Sophie … “Hey, do you still have that trunk of dresses?” she asked.

  Aunt Sophie tipped her head. “It’s in the back room.”

  “Can I have one to make over for Hailey? Easter is in three weeks and …” She twisted her hands in her lap, knowing full well this was her last hope.

  “Sure, let’s take a look-see.” Aunt Sophie pushed off the arm of the couch and swayed. “Whoa!”

  “Aunt Sophie!” Natalie grabbed onto her elbow to steady her and noticed several dark bruises on her arm. The older Aunt Sophie got, the more fragile she seemed. A bump against a doorknob could leave her hand black and blue. Hitting the table as she stood could lacerate the skin on her hip. Natalie loosened her grip on Aunt Sophie, hoping she hadn’t left
behind a mark.

  “Got up too fast.” Aunt Sophie put her hand to her forehead. “Happens all the time.”

  “Well, slow it down, we’re not in a rush.”

  “I got excited about the dress. I think I know the perfect one.”

  Natalie slipped Aunt Sophie’s hand over her arm as they shuffled down the hall. By the time they reached the doorway to the spare bedroom, Aunt Sophie was steady and ready to dive into the old clothes. The lid to the trunk creaked as they strained together to lift the heavy cedar.

  “They don’t make ‘em like they used to,” joked Aunt Sophie.

  “They sure don’t. Eli’s truck door would come off long before the lid of this trunk.”

  Aunt Sophie sifted through the layers of fabric and tissue paper, her knobby hands on a mission. “Here it is.” She pulled out a beautiful robin’s-egg blue dress with a sweetheart neckline and full skirt.

  Rubbing the fabric between her fingers, Natalie was pleased to see that the fibers hadn’t faded and there were no snags or tears. “It’s beautiful.”

  “And it will look stunning with Hailey’s eyes.”

  Natalie grinned. “Do you mind? I’ll have to take the sides in a little and shorten the sleeves.”

  “It’s yours to do with as you please.” Aunt Sophie pressed the dress into Natalie’s hands.

  “Thank you.” Natalie hugged her before closing the trunk and making sure her aunt got back to the couch. “Are you set? Do you need anything before I go?”

  “I’m all set.” Sophie held Natalie’s hand between hers. “And don’t forget what we talked about earlier. Men face hard times, too; we can’t expect them to be invincible.”

  “I’ll remember.” Natalie planted a kiss on Aunt Sophie’s wrinkled cheek. “Love you.”

  They said their goodbyes and Natalie was soon driving home, the dress in her lap. Her mind bounced back and forth between planning the alterations on the dress and thinking about Aunt Sophie’s advice.

  It’s not about me.

  She repeated the phase over and over again, each time letting go of the insecurities that had plagued her over the last few months. She’d worried that she’d lost her youthful bloom and therefore Eli wasn’t interested in her anymore. Even though she’d dropped weight because of her decrease in expensive foods and increase in movement, the weight of the world seemed to burrow into the crow’s feet around her eyes, aging her faster than she cared to admit. Was she still pretty? Desirable? Could she make it on her own? Who was she, really, without Eli and the kids?