“I know this isn’t as exciting as singing, or dancing … or my mom,” Lauren said, eliciting a few titters from the crowd, “but I’ve never really put my talent on display for the world to see, or followed my calling. But I learned that now is the time.”
Arden watched her daughter look offstage, and then Lauren began to paint.
“Picasso once said, ‘Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up,’” Lauren said to the crowd, as her brush danced over the canvas. “I never understood what he meant until recently … until I’ve gotten to know my grandmother—my family—a lot better.”
Lauren quieted and continued to paint, the jangling of her charm bracelet carried on the breeze.
“Painting is like life,” she said. “It requires a lot of patience, a lot of faith, a lot of passion. The beauty in great painting is capturing the emotion underneath the subject.”
Lauren set her brush down, picked up the canvas, and began walking toward the crowd.
“This is the story of my family.”
Lauren stopped and turned the portrait toward the audience, three generations of women seated together at the end of a warped dock, their images in the foreground older, wiser, damaged but strong, while their reflections in the water were from their youth—younger, sadder, lost but hopeful.
“This is a story of home … of here.”
The crowd erupted in cheers, many standing to yell, “How much?” or “I want that.”
“I’m overwhelmed,” Arden said into Jake’s strong shoulder, as he drew her in. “I thought … I expected…”
“Then stop,” Jake said, as the crowd continued to cheer. “Expectations are just preconceived resentments.”
Arden pulled away, her face etched in surprise. “Let me guess? Not Deepak Chopra?”
“No,” Jake said. “Just a guy who has seen a lot of life and death. In the end, I think we all just want the same things: Family, happiness, love, faith.”
“I’ve always felt like the world was stacked against me,” Arden said.
“The world is stacked against everyone, Arden,” Jake said. “But now I’m here for you.”
He patted his shoulder, and Arden rested her head on it, as the emcee’s voice squeaked over the speakers.
“Last up,” the announcer said, “da Q and A.”
“I never made it this far,” Arden said.
“Really? I’m shocked. Your question could have been, ‘Is that the backstroke or the dog paddle?’” Jake teased, giving Arden a hug.
Arden melted into a puddle of laugher.
“My question to today’s contestants is this,” the emcee stated. “Name da most influential person in your life.”
Girl after girl responded: “Daddy,” “Jesus,” or “Tom Izzo, the Michigan State basketball coach.”
“Finally, Lauren Lindsey,” the emcee said, as the group of contestants stood on the platform over the river. “Please name da most influential person in your life.”
Lauren stepped to the mic in the middle of the stage, stared out over the river and then scanned the crowd.
She stopped and caught her breath. When she began again, her voice was as wavy as the current of the Scoops River.
“My grandmother,” she said. “Life has not always been easy on her: She’s lost everything and everyone, at one time, and yet she has somehow managed not only to survive but also to believe in the beauty of the world. She has remained an optimist. She has fun in this life, no matter what. I’ve learned that you can plan your life all you want, but you can’t control it. You have to dive headfirst into it, experience its joys and pains … you have to live … and then you have to share those stories with the ones you love before it’s too late.”
Lauren stopped and cleared her throat. Quiet enveloped the bleachers. Lauren could hear the wind float across the water, and, as it did, catch her charm bracelets and make them sing. She looked over at the ancient weeping willow, whose arms were sweeping in the river, singing in the breeze, joyously telling the secrets of its own past. Lauren smiled and said, “Grandma, would you join me on stage?”
Lolly—as bright as the sun—slowly made her way out to the platform. Lauren took her hand, and brought her into her body.
“This pageant has long been my grandmother’s dream. Her whole life, she’s supported everyone else’s dreams, sacrificed herself to make others happy. I wouldn’t be standing here today without her.”
Lauren hesitated but continued. “We need to take time to get to know our elders, because they have led lives we can barely imagine. I’ve come to appreciate that our elders—our grandmothers—are not only the pillars of our families, the charms in our lives, but also the bridges to our past and the steppingstones to our future. Today is not only for my grandmother, but for all the grandparents in the world who fought for all of us to have better lives.”
There was silence for a few seconds, before the crowd began to clap. That applause turned into a roar, and, quickly, the crowd was on its feet, screaming. Arden looked around: Many were wiping tears from their faces.
“That’s my daughter!” Arden began to yell, pointing toward the stage. “And that’s my mother! Lolly!”
As the applause died down and the judges began to deliberate, Arden looked up at the pines and the birch that circled the park, and she smiled. Arden could see her mother in those trees: They bent but never broke; they believed good days were to come in spite of the often bad weather; they loved the simplicity of nature and life; and they were always reaching toward heaven.
“What is it?” Jake asked.
“Is this what it’s like to be happy?” Arden asked.
Jake studied her face, uncertain of what she was asking.
“To just be in the moment?” she continued. “Not running or planning or working. Just enjoying this very second of life, without trying to perfect it, change it, or run from it?”
“Yes,” Jake said.
“I like happy,” Arden replied. “It’s a very nice place. Like Michigan.”
She stopped.
“And I also … well, I also … really like you,” Arden said, finally saying the words she had longed to get out.
Jake grabbed Arden’s face and kissed her, inhaled her, held her, and didn’t stop even after the crowd began to catcall. Jake removed a hand from behind Arden’s neck and began to encourage the crowd with it.
“And I really like you, too, Arden,” Jake said, pulling Arden into his big body.
“Da judges have da decision!” the emcee announced over the loudspeaker.
Arden jerked upright. “Here we go!”
“I didn’t think you wanted to be here,” Jake razzed her.
“Ssshhhh!”
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s now time to announce da first runner-up and new Tulip Queen. Are you ladies ready?”
The twenty girls clutched hands and clamped their eyes shut. “The first runner-up is … Tara Milligan!”
A pretty blonde in an eggplant-colored gown claimed her tulips and a new sash, and stepped to the side.
“And, now, da moment we’ve all been waiting for … the Seventy-Fifth Annual Tulip Queen is … Lauren Lindsey!”
The crowd screamed its approval, and Arden didn’t realize she was crying until she could taste her mascara.
The emcee placed a Tulip Queen sash across Lauren’s shoulder while the outgoing queen placed a crown atop Lauren’s blond head and handed her a huge bouquet of colorful tulips and a little box wrapped in a bright ribbon.
“Introducing your 2014 queen, Lauren Lindsey! Lauren, you may take your coronation walk!”
Lauren raised her arms and waved to the crowd as she made her way across the platform. At the end of the platform, she held out her arms, and her grandmother came running into them. The two then walked—hand in hand—back across the stage. Lolly raised her left arm, and cupped her hand, waving it like a true queen.
She’s waited her whole life for this
moment, Arden thought, and smiled.
She stopped, watching her mother and daughter, and then amended that thought: Lauren has waited her whole life for this moment, too.
Lauren stopped in the middle of the platform, removed the crown, and bent over and placed it on her grandmother’s head, securing it to her wig. Lolly touched it, ran her hands over the points and rhinestones, as if it were magical, and then hugged her granddaughter tightly.
Both returned to the coronation area, where the contestants mobbed them. Arden grabbed Jake’s hand and began dragging him down the bleachers.
“Congratulations!” Arden screamed when she reached her daughter and mother. “What a surprise! How did you two manage to pull this off?”
“Teamwork,” they both said in unison, laughing.
“And Spanx,” Lauren added.
Arden smiled and took the hands of her mother and daughter in hers.
“Seriously,” she asked, giving their arms a gentle shake. “How did this happen?”
“I was painting this morning—I was painting us, all of us—and I could see everything so clearly for once,” Lauren said. “Everything seemed—oh, I don’t know—possible and exciting. I thought of all the stories Grandma has been telling us. I thought of all she had done for us, and I thought, there has to be something I can do for her. And there was.”
Lauren dropped her mother’s hand, repositioning the tulips to her other arm, and handed her grandmother the gift box she had been given after her win.
“I think this is for you, Grandma,” Lauren said.
Lolly opened the little box with shaking hands. Inside sat a silver charm of a tiara. “Oh, I can’t, Lauren,” Lolly protested.
“I insist, Grandma,” Lauren said, handing her mother the tulips and carefully adding the charm to her grandmother’s bracelet, which she took off her own wrist and placed back on Lolly’s slender wrist.
Lolly held up the bracelet to her face. “Every woman deserves to feel like a queen, even for a day,” she said quietly. “You know, this is the one charm I always wanted. It’s the one I never thought I’d get, and one day it will be yours, my dear.”
She hesitated.
“It’s the one I’ll never forget.”
Lolly gave her bracelet a robust shake and then pulled her granddaughter close.
“I love you, more than anything,” she whispered.
“Me, too, Grandma.”
“I’ve had the best time this past week,” Lolly smiled, surveying her girls’ faces. “It’s nice to have my family back for a little while.”
“I’ve had the best time, too, Mom,” Arden said. “It’s nice to have my mother back. I’m just so sorry … for … well … everything.”
“Can’t change the past,” Lolly said. “But you can change the future.”
“Speaking of which,” Lauren said, “can I talk to you for a minute, Mom?”
Jake picked up on Lauren’s need for some privacy. “You look like a real beauty queen with that crown, Lolly. Mind showing me how you do that pageant wave so well?”
Lolly smiled broadly. “Of course,” she said, walking toward the river with Jake, the two looking like a modern version of Abbott and Costello. “First, you have to cup your hand … like this.”
Lauren laughed, as she led her mother over to the corner of the park, where they took a seat on a bench underneath the massive weeping willow.
For a few moments, the two watched boats—big and small—float by on the river, some heading out to the big lake for sunset, some heading back to the dock. Finally, Lauren broke the silence.
“I’m staying with Grandma, Mom.”
Arden shook her head, not comprehending what her daughter had just said. “What?” She shook her head again. “What did you just say?”
“I’ve decided to stay with Grandma. And I’ve been looking into attending Interlochen for the summer. It’s a great art school, Mom. It’s only a few miles away. I can help Grandma. I’ll work with her at Dolly’s. And she’s offered to help with tuition. It will help ease your financial burden, too.”
Arden’s heart raced. “Is this your grandmother’s idea?”
As soon as the words left her mouth, Arden wished they had been attached to a rubber band, and she could just easily retract them, but it was too late.
“No, Mom, this was actually Lexie’s idea at first,” Lauren said, her eyes wide. “What this has all been about is healing. Grandma’s ‘influence’ has been good for us all. Aren’t you happier now than you were a few weeks ago?”
“Yes,” Arden said without hesitation.
“So am I. So is Grandma. She needs me, Mom. And I think I need her even more.”
“What about your internship this summer, Lauren? What about your future?”
“I never applied for one, Mom,” Lauren said sheepishly. “I just can’t imagine…”
Lauren began to cry softly. “I’ve just been so unhappy, Mom. And I’m happy with Grandma. I’m inspired here. An artist doesn’t need an internship. An artist needs inspiration and a safe place to create. I have found that here. My future is here for a little while. Let me find myself this summer. I need you to be okay with that.”
Arden looked out over the water, sighed, and then smiled and took her daughter’s hand. The two sat in silence and continued to watch the boats pass. As the sun lowered behind the dunes, a chill quickly settled over them.
“Lauren, I admire and love you so much. But do you understand how much care your grandmother will require? Do you understand that her bad days will eventually outweigh her good ones? That is a huge burden on anyone, but especially a young woman whose life is just beginning.”
“I know, Mom. I’ve talked extensively with her doctor about it.” Lauren hesitated, but continued. “I’ve even talked with Jake about it.”
“You have?” Arden asked, trying to hide her upset.
“Mom, he echoed the same concerns you did,” she said. “But he also said he’d be here to help. I know that eventually Grandma will need more care. And, ultimately, she will likely have to go into a place that can better address her needs. But, right now, what she needs is family. What I need is family. What we all need is family. I want to be here, Mom. I want to be with her.”
“You’re a good person, Lauren, but it’s such an obligation.”
Lauren smiled and looked her mother square on, her blue eyes unflinching. “It’s not an obligation to me, Mom. It’s a privilege. I want her to know—every single day—that it has been my privilege to be her granddaughter.”
Arden hugged her daughter. “I can’t stay, though. I have to go back to work. Van has been pressing me about coming back.”
“We all understand that. It’s not about guilt anymore, or running. It’s about being a family. Supporting one another. But remember, you need to find yourself, too. You need to write, Mom.”
Lauren held her mother by the shoulders. “You need to tell them you’re a writer, not an online editor. If they don’t let you write, find someplace that will. And you need to finish your book. Even if it’s never published, it’s important to who you are.”
“I have to make a living, honey.”
“You’re so driven and so talented, Mom. Think of what you could be, not what everyone else wants you to be. Right?”
Over Lauren’s shoulder, Arden could see her mother showing Jake how to cup his hand to wave like a princess.
“He’s a great guy, Mom. Make the long distance thing work, okay?” Lauren said, giving her mom a gentle shake, before finally noticing her changed appearance. “No glasses? Makeup? Tousled hair? You look amazing, Mom!”
The two hugged again, until Lolly’s voice shattered the moment. “Drinks on me! The old crow is taking everyone to the Old Crow!”
Lauren and Arden stood, and the foursome started toward the ancient outdoor bar that overlooked the lake.
“What exactly does royalty drink?” Lauren asked her grandmother, taking her hand in hers, their bracelet
s tingling.
Lolly smiled. “Anything she darn well wants, my dear, especially,” she said, stopping to curtsy and touch her tiara, “when a queen gets to be my age.”
epilogue
The Book Charm
To a Story That Will Never End
July 4, 2014—Arden, Lauren, and Lolly
“Hurry! The show’s starting!” my mother yells from the yard.
I peek off the screened porch, and—for a moment—all I can see are fireflies blinking, briefly illuminating the steppingstone path, the dock, and the still waters of Lost Land Lake in the twilight.
But then … BOOM!
An explosion of colorful fireworks suddenly lights the skies, as if God has plucked out His own crayon box and set to work on coloring the heavens.
I can see my mom standing there just like a kid, slack-jawed, looking up, her hands on her heart. She is barefoot, a jacket wrapped around her waist, her old body perched on a single steppingstone, her red wig mimicking the flaming trail of the fireworks as they fall toward the lake.
This is her night, I say to the old cabin.
Beyond the fireworks, I can see so many changes lingering on the horizon. Come September, the air will turn chilly, and Lauren will be attending art school full time and staying here. Her father has even offered to help us more.
He is happy now, I am happy now, and that has made us kinder, more generous.
We are all happy now. Happiness, I’ve learned, is not only quite magical, but also contagious.
Yes, my mother requires more help, but she is holding her own right now, and Jake comes every other day. He adores her. He loves me.
I have to say it again to myself: He loves me.
“Hurry!” I yell into the cabin.
I hear Lauren’s charm bracelet first, followed by the squeaks of the wood floor. A large circle of light temporarily blinds me.
“Think we’ll need this?” Lauren asks.
My eyes adjust to see she is holding an old flashlight, held together by decades of masking tape. Behind Lauren, I can see her portrait of us hanging on a log wall.
The Charm Bracelet Page 25
