Summer of Joy

by Ann H. Gabhart

  “Oh.” Leigh looked around at the roses as if surprised to see them there. “I was wrapping presents on the table and they didn’t seem to go with the Christmas tree in the other room. I guess Jocie told you I got them.”

  “Yes. A secret admirer. I’m not surprised.”

  “You aren’t? I am.”

  “You shouldn’t be. And the roses are very nice,” David said, but he didn’t look as if he really meant it.

  “They make the place smell like a funeral home.” Leigh wrinkled her nose. “I like roses fresh out of a garden better.” She was remembering a particular rose David had brought her last summer. She had it pressed in her dictionary on the page of “l” words right below the word love.

  “Too cold out there for that right now. Harold at the grocery said they were predicting it might get down to fifteen tonight. And it’s spitting snow now and again.” David pulled some cans out of the grocery sack. “Do you have a pan I can heat this up in?”

  “Chicken soup. Perfect.” Leigh said as she got the can opener out of the drawer and pulled a pan out of one of the cabinets. “And I love snow at Christmas.”

  They’d stopped talking about the roses, but there seemed to be things still unsaid causing uneasiness between them. Maybe she should say the wretched roses were making her sneeze and shove them in the closet.

  “What don’t you love at Christmas?” David asked as he dumped the soup into the pan.

  “That’s easy. Colds and red noses except on Rudolf.” She tore off some toilet paper to wipe her drippy nose. “How about you? What don’t you love at Christmas?”

  He set the pan on the stove and turned on the burner before he looked at her. “Roses in your sink that I didn’t send. Being of faint heart.”

  “Faint heart?”

  “Just something Wes said. I’ll tell you all about it later, but right now I think our soup is almost warm enough. Where do you want to eat your feast, fair maiden?”

  “By the Christmas tree,” Leigh said. Anything to get away from those infernal roses. “We can have a picnic by the Christmas tree.”

  “Our last picnic didn’t turn out too well.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t that bad,” Leigh said.

  “Not bad?” David smiled. “You mean except for the mosquitoes and the pungent odor drifting over from Herman’s cow pasture and that it had to be about a hundred degrees in the shade?”

  “You forgot the hard ground,” Leigh said with a laugh. “But there aren’t any mosquitoes here and we can put the couch cushions on the floor and pretend the coffee table is a tree stump to hold our food.”

  “A tree stump?”

  “Well, you might take blankets and you might take cushions, but you’d never take a coffee table on a picnic.”

  So David carried their soup into the living room on a tray.

  The lights on the Christmas tree gave the room a cheery glow. Leigh started to turn on a lamp, but David stopped her. He produced a candle from somewhere. He lit it and dripped enough wax onto a saucer to hold it up before he set it in the middle of the tray. He brought in the poinsettia and placed it beside the tray.

  After they ate their soup, David carried their bowls to the kitchen and brought back grapes and two huge chocolate bars.

  “Wow,” Leigh said. “My favorite diet breaker.”

  “I promised you something special tonight, didn’t I? We’ll walk twice as far next Saturday to make up for it.” David smiled at her, but didn’t sit back down on the couch cushion. He looked almost nervous as he said, “I’ll put on some music.”

  “I probably don’t have anything you like,” Leigh said.

  “I’m sure I’ll find something.” He carried the candle over to look through her records.

  “You want me to help?” she asked when he started fumbling with the controls.

  “I think I’ve about gotten it figured out.”

  The record clicked into place and Elvis started singing, “Love me tender. Love me true.”

  Leigh’s heart was beating double fast even before David scooted his cushion closer to hers and sat back down. She was glad the light was dim so he couldn’t see how her cheeks were surely now as red as her nose.

  He reached into his sack and pulled out a box of tissues. “For you, fair maiden.” His hand seemed to tremble as he handed it to her.

  “You surely knew just what I needed.” Leigh laughed a little. The box was already open with a tissue sticking out. She pulled on the tissue and a little black ring box fell out in her lap. She was almost afraid to reach for it for fear it might disappear, that this all might be a dream and she was going to wake up and be alone. She held her breath while somewhere Elvis was singing “Love me tender.”

  Beside her, David slid off the cushion to kneel beside her. She could feel his eyes on her as she picked up the ring box. She made herself breathe in and out as time seemed to stand still. She was acutely aware of the lights on her Christmas tree, of the flickering candle flame, of David’s breathing. She tipped open the top of the ring box and a diamond glittered up at her. Again she lost her breath.

  David reached over and put his fingers under her chin to raise her face up to look into his eyes. “I love you, Leigh Jacobson. Will you marry me?”

  She couldn’t help it. She began sobbing. She was that happy.

  18

  For a second David’s heart plummeted like a stone pitched in a lake when Leigh started crying. The roses in her sink had meant something. He was too late. Too old. Too inept at romance. Maybe he should just take the ring box back and slink away out of her life.

  But then she was laughing along with her tears. “Yes. Oh very definitely yes!” she almost shouted as she jumped forward to hug him.

  He held out his arms to catch her, but it wasn’t like in the movies where the hero and heroine embrace smoothly and easily while the music plays. Instead David lost his balance and they both tumbled over, knocking against the coffee table. The poinsettia bounced off onto the floor, and grapes and candy bars went flying. Elvis stopped singing as the needle got stuck on the end of the record and didn’t lift off the way it was supposed to. It just sat there and kept slipping in the groove with no music.

  All of the sudden there was a knocking noise somewhere. It didn’t sound like the door, but rather as if it was below them. Right below them.

  Leigh giggled. “I think Mrs. Simpson is trying to tell us we’re making too much noise.”

  She started to disentangle herself from his embrace to sit up, but he tightened his arms around her. “She’ll get over it,” David said. Leigh was laying half on top of him wedged between the sofa and the coffee table. He shifted a little so they could get more comfortable and he could see her face in the glow of the Christmas lights. Her cheeks glistened with tears. He pulled out his handkerchief and gently dabbed her cheeks. “I didn’t want to make you cry.”

  She took the handkerchief from him and mopped up her face. “But I’m so happy I can’t help it. That sounds silly, doesn’t it?” She lifted herself up on one elbow to blow her nose.

  David sniffed the air. “Do you smell smoke?”

  “I can’t smell anything with this cold,” Leigh said, but she raised her head up a little higher. “Oh my gosh! The candle! The napkins are on fire.”

  David sat up. The blazing napkins were on a metal tray, but the flames were rising perilously close to the Christmas tree. He slapped a magazine down on the flames to smother them. Black papery ashes floated up in the air when David carefully lifted the slightly scorched magazine off the tray, but the fire was out. The Christmas tree was safe.

  Leigh had her hands over her mouth. Her blue eyes were open wide as she watched him.

  “So much for candlelit picnics by the Christmas tree,” David said. “Maybe we should just forget about picnics altogether.”

  “Oh no,” Leigh said. “I love picnics.”

  David reached over to hold her hand. “What do you love about picnics?”

  �
�Eating grapes.” She picked up a grape and popped it in her mouth and then picked up another one to put in his mouth.

  “Even off the floor?”

  “The floor, the ground, whatever.”

  “Eating grapes. Is that all?”

  “Oh no.” She smiled at him. “I love chocolate bars. And campfires.”

  “The fire might be better at outdoor picnics,” David said.

  “Wait. I’m not through yet.” She put her finger over his lips. “Rings in boxes. You.”

  He pulled her close then and kissed her. This woman who had agreed to be his wife. This woman he loved. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve her love, but he thanked the Lord he had it. Then again, when was love ever given because it was deserved? Respect and honor were earned. Awards were deserved. But love was a gift from one heart to another.

  Her lips felt incredibly soft under his and for a minute he thought his heart might explode from the feeling. Even after she had to pull back to catch her breath because of her stuffy nose, he held her close and kissed her hair that smelled like apples.

  “Maybe we should start over from the beginning and this time try to keep from setting the place on fire,” he said. When she suddenly stiffened against him, he was afraid she was having second thoughts. “What’s wrong?”

  “The ring. Where’s the ring?” She pulled away from him and began frantically feeling around on the floor. “I can’t have lost it before I even got to put it on.”

  “It’s bound to be here somewhere among the grapes.” David picked up a bunch of grapes and put them on the coffee table. “And here are the chocolate bars.”

  Leigh had her face flat against the floor peering under the couch as she ran her hand under it. “I can’t see anything under here. What if it fell out of the box and I never find it?”

  “I’ll get you another one,” David said, then laughed. “When I save up enough money in a few years. You did realize you weren’t saying yes to a rich man?”

  She raised her head up to look straight at him. “You’re the richest man I know. In the riches that count.”

  “Maybe now that you’ve been added to my riches,” David said. He lifted up one of the couch cushions. “Violà! Here it is.” He picked up the little velvet box and checked to be sure the ring was still inside. “Let’s try this over again without the fireworks.”

  “Why? Fireworks are fun. Exciting. We want exciting, don’t we?”

  “Okay. Without the fire.”

  “All right. We can skip the fire,” Leigh said as she sat up.

  David put the cushions on the couch. “You sit there.”

  “Wait,” Leigh said. “Let me go fix the record player. That noise is getting annoying.” She jumped up and started Elvis singing “Love Me Tender” again. Then she came over and sat on the couch as directed.

  David knelt in front of her and handed her the ring box.

  “Leigh Jacobson, will you marry me?”

  This time she stayed sitting demurely as she answered, “Yes, David Brooke, I will marry you.”

  He kept his eyes intently on hers. “Are you sure in your heart that you want to marry me for better or worse, in sickness and in health, till death do us part?” He’d said the words many times as he’d married other couples. Better or worse. Sickness and health. He supposed he’d said them when he and Adrienne married although no echo of those words came to mind when he tried to remember. They had stood up in front of a judge in Tennessee. Perhaps judges had a different ceremony. Legally binding without the spiritual promises.

  Leigh’s eyes didn’t waver on his. “For better or worse. In sickness and in health. Till death do us part. And even then. Forever and ever through eternity I am yours.”

  He took the ring out of the box and slipped it on her finger. It fit. Rollin had made a good guess on the size.

  She held her hand up and looked at it. “It’s beautiful.” Then she burst into tears again.

  He found the tissue box and handed it to her as he sat down on the couch and put his arm around her. “We’re not going to do this again if you’re going to keep crying on me.”

  “Happy tears,” she choked out.

  He pulled her close to him and let her cry. He’d never seen Adrienne cry. In all the years they’d been married. She didn’t care enough about anything to cry. He mentally shook his head and pushed Adrienne out of his thoughts. Adrienne was out of his life forever. He was giving himself completely, heart and soul, to this wonderful loving girl beside him who cried when she was happy. She cried when she was sad. She cared. She loved.

  After a few minutes, Leigh raised her head off his shoulder and mopped up her tears. “I’m sorry I’m such a weeper,” she said and smiled at him. “My nose is probably glowing like a Christmas tree light now.”

  “You’re glowing, all right. A perfect glow.”

  “Hush, you’ll make me start crying again.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t know why people are always saying there won’t be any tears in heaven. What about tears of joy?”

  “I don’t know about tears, but the Bible promises joy. Greater joy than anything we can imagine.”

  “Then I’ll have to cry.”

  “The Lord will understand. He always does.”

  “He does, doesn’t he? When I was just out of high school, I wondered why I couldn’t fall in love. Why no one wanted to marry me when all my girlfriends were getting married. Now I know.” Leigh looked up at him. “The Lord was waiting for the time to be right. He knew I was going to find you.”

  “I’m glad you did,” David said. “And I’m glad he knocked open my eyes so I didn’t miss out.”

  “You might have to thank Zella on that one.”

  “The Lord sometimes works in mysterious ways,” David said. Elvis had stopped singing some time ago, but Leigh had fixed the record player right and the needle had lifted off the record. Now a peaceful quiet settled around them.

  “She’s going to be surprised,” Leigh said, holding out her hand to admire the ring again. “I’m surprised. Really surprised. I figured I’d have to keep chasing you awhile longer.”

  “I quit running weeks ago.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Do you want to pick a date?” David asked. “Or do you want to talk to your parents first? I guess I should have waited until after they met me to see if they approved before I gave you the ring.”

  “No. I’m not a child.” Leigh’s voice sounded a little tight all of the sudden. “I approve. That’s what’s important. And they’ll be happy for me once they get to know you.” She sounded as if she were trying to convince herself more than him.

  “So you want to get married next week?”

  “You’re kidding?” She leaned forward to stare straight into his face.

  “Only a little. I’m not getting any younger, you know.”

  “June,” she said as she sat back. “I’ve always wanted to be a June bride. And that will give the church time to have showers for us. You know they’ll want to be in on it all.”

  David groaned a little. “It’ll be like having fifty extra aunts and uncles at the wedding.”

  “No, more like fifty brothers and sisters, but it’s going to be so much fun.”

  “Did you ever hear a voice telling you to be a preacher’s wife?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact I have.”

  David was surprised by her words. David believed being a preacher’s wife was a calling, but he hadn’t really expected her to say the Lord had actually spoken to her to say she should marry David. “You have?”

  “Of course. Just now when you proposed. The very voice I most wanted to hear.” She laughed and gave him a little hug. “Jocie is never going to believe you played Elvis as background music.”

  19

  Jocie was surprised the next morning. Not just by the Elvis music, but by the ring. By everything. But she was glad Leigh showed up on Christmas morning. Leigh’s nose was still red and she had tissues tucked
up the sleeves of her sweater to keep them handy, but she wasn’t sneezing so much. She wouldn’t pick up Stephen Lee even when he reached for her. Jocie figured Leigh might as well go ahead and love on him because Jocie’s dad wasn’t staying away from the baby. And it was pretty evident by the way her father kept looking at Leigh with that goofy grin on his face that if there were any germs to exchange, they’d been exchanged already.

  After the flurry of present opening, they sat around and ate the sweet rolls Aunt Love always made for Christmas morning. Jocie had practically camped in the kitchen while they were baking to make sure Aunt Love didn’t forget and let them burn. It wouldn’t be Christmas morning without Aunt Love’s sweet rolls. She only made them Christmas and Easter. They were for special times.

  And it had been a special morning, extra special even for Christmas. When her father had read the Christmas story out of the Bible, Jocie had almost been able to see the wondrously clear sky and hear the angels singing the good tidings. They sounded something like Myra Hearndon in her head. Jocie had smelled the hay and straw in the stable and heard the donkey braying. She’d shut her eyes and imagined how Mary must have traced the eyes, nose, and mouth of her baby with her finger and been amazed afresh at the miracle of his birth. And over the stable the new star had shone so brightly in the sky, it had surely cast shadows off the camels plodding across the desert to bring the wise men and their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

  While everybody settled down to quiet talk, Jocie got out her new ink pen and notebook. She could write and listen at the same time. And she wanted to get on paper some of what was happening, some of what she was feeling. It was a funny thing about feelings. Things happened that a person thought she’d never forget. Then something else would happen, something not half as important, but it would just jump in a person’s head and push the other right out. Not all of it, but sometimes the best parts. Jocie didn’t want to forget the best parts.

  Up at the top of the first page, she wrote Christmas Morning 1964. Then she placed her hand flat on the blank page for a moment as if she could just transfer her thoughts to the paper without using ink. She looked around at everybody still sitting around the Christmas tree. On the couch, her dad had his arm around Leigh. Leigh kept sneaking looks at the diamond shining on her left hand. Aunt Love was feeding Stephen Lee his bottle, and Tabitha was yawning behind her hand. She didn’t usually get up so early. Wes caught Jocie looking at him and winked.