Chapter 6
Bracing himself against the cool spring breeze, Eli hurried out to the car. He planned to get a new flapper for the toilet in the kids’ bathroom, check on Aunt Sophie, and have the toilet fixed before anyone got home. Ryan had a student council meeting later this evening, and Hailey was going to have dinner with Chloe.
Usually the girls traded off houses, and technically they should be eating at Hailey’s house. However, Hailey had spent a lot more nights at Chloe’s house than she had at home. Eli sighed, unsure if Hailey’s distance was a result of his constant presence at home or if fifteen-year-old girls naturally wanted to get away from their parents. Sometimes he wished she was still his little princess who was happy with a glass of chocolate milk and some time with Dad. His kids were slipping away, and he felt powerless to do anything about the growing distance between them.
Eli let the car warm up before backing out. At least Hailey would have that new dress—even if he didn’t buy it. He didn’t begrudge his family anything; he just hated himself for not being able to give them the world. What was it Aunt Sophie had said? Stop focusing on what you don’t have and pay attention to what’s right in front of you … or something like that.
Eli flipped on the radio and caught the last few minutes of one of the morning talk shows.
“You’re telling me, if I think about a million dollars, the money’s going to show up on my doorstep,” snarked the host.
“No,” replied the caller. “You have to work for it. The Law of Attraction is all about putting your wants and desires out for the universe. Let’s say you run a small business and your goal is to bring in a million dollars a year. So, you put that out there. You write a check to yourself for a million dollars, and put that check on your vision board.”
“Okay,” the host prompted.
“Then you go to work, still keeping that goal in mind. What’s going to happen is, you will have opportunities come up that you’d never thought of that will build your business. You’ll meet people who can help you take your business to the next level and the one beyond that.”
Eli found himself nodding along. He wasn’t sure about the whole “universe” idea, but he was willing to try anything.
The caller continued, “Pretty soon, you realize you’ve made that million.”
The host laughed. “Then what?”
The caller chuckled. “Then you write a check for two million and keep going.”
Eli turned the radio off on their knowing laughter, the idea sticking with him like gum on the bottom of his shoe.
What you put out into the universe comes back.
What had he put out in the universe? Desperation? Anger? No wonder he got rejected at job interviews. What if he did change things up? Fake-it-till-ya-make-it kind of thinking.
If he understood the caller, then focusing only on not having things meant that he would never have things, because he was drawing failure to himself on a daily basis. If he focused on what he had, then he would draw goodness his way. Like, if he focused on having a truck, an even better truck would come into his life.
Gripping the steering wheel, he chuckled. Am I so desperate that I’m ready to try this? He checked both ways before leaving the driveway. Yeah, I kind of am that desperate.
Okay, here goes. I’ll start with the basics.
I have a house.
I have a family.
I have water.
I have food to eat.
I have transportation.
He gasped. I have smoke coming out of my truck!
Slamming on the brakes, Eli killed the engine and a big poof of white smoke belched out from under the hood. Plugging his nose against the stench, he jumped from the vehicle and waved his hand to clear the air. It didn’t help.
“Need some help?” called his neighbor Paul.
Eli pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “I need somethin’.” A vacation from my life would be nice.
Paul ambled across his lawn, wet with spring melt, and waved his hand in front of his face. “Whew! Smells like the serpentine belt.”
“Belts smell?” Eli was handy around the house, not under the hood.
“Like burning rubber,” replied Paul. He dropped to the wet asphalt, his thin frame easily fitting between the bumper and the road, and reached under as he spoke. “What happens is, the belts are cold from sitting around and they can become brittle. Eventually …” He straightened, a long piece of rubber in his hand. “They crack and break. It’s a blessing you weren’t on the highway when this happened.”
“I am so blessed,” Eli said, coating his words in sarcasm.
Paul looked back and forth between his house and Eli’s truck. “Wait here,” he said before he trotted away.
“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 envelope
s, 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 that 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 alon
e 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.
Lucy McConnell's Snow Valley Box Set Page 27
