The Daughters of Erietown

by Connie Schultz

  “And it’s your turn to send me a postcard. First time you’ve been out of Ohio. How exciting.”

  “Yes,” Ellie said, smiling. “So exciting. I’ll see you soon, Aunt Nessa.”

  Ellie walked over to the rack of postcards next to the reception desk. She spun it around slowly, examining every picture before settling on one of the Maryland state map. She slid it across the counter to the receptionist.

  “Five cents,” the woman said without looking up.

  “Oh, wait,” Ellie said. “Please, I mean.” She returned to the rack and pulled out two cards: one with a picture of North Mechanic Street in downtown Cumberland, and another of a row of beach umbrellas in Ocean City. “I’ll take these two, too.”

  Angie McGinty clicked off the light switch in the kitchen and walked slowly through the house, stopping every few steps to let the pain move through her. She paused at the front window. Almost two in the morning, and still no Brick. Patch was gone, too.

  She made her way upstairs, one slow step at a time. She stopped at the landing and waited for the pounding in her chest to settle down before heading to her bedroom at the end of the hall. She was no longer the Angie her girlfriends used to tease for having so much energy. It was a sin to be proud, but maybe God would understand since he’d made everything else about her so ordinary.

  Angie pulled off her dress and slip, started to move toward the closet, then draped them on the chair instead. She was exhausted all the time now. She’d dropped nearly twenty pounds in the last couple of months, and yet her stomach just kept getting bigger and harder, like a boulder inching its way out from under her rib cage.

  Her daughter Lillian, who lived in Cleveland, was the only one who knew what was wrong with Angie. The distance made it easier for Angie to tell her. If any one of her other nine daughters found out how sick she was, she’d be dealing with a house full of hysterical girls insisting they were taking her to Doc Brown.

  She would have to tell them what Doc already knew, and what she’d told him after he urged her to go to Cleveland for chemotherapy. “What’s the point of that now?” she’d said, and Doc didn’t argue. They both knew she’d waited too long.

  Angie McGinty had made a life of what God had dealt her. She was ready to play out this last hand.

  “Just take care of my Brick,” she whispered as she sat on the edge of the bed. “That’s all I ask.”

  He wasn’t coming back. She could feel it. He’d been more distant in recent weeks, avoiding eye contact and short-tempered with her in a way he’d never been before. Just yesterday, he’d snapped at her when she asked if he’d ordered his graduation gown. “I told ya, Ma, I don’t want to wear a candy-ass gown with a stupid board on my head. I can graduate without looking like a fool.” This was not her Brick.

  She reached for the nightgown folded under her pillow and pulled it over her head, slowly stood to let the hem fall around her knees, then slipped under the covers. The moon was a bright sliver in her window tonight. She squeezed her eyes shut as she clasped her hands across the swell of her abdomen and started to pray.

  “All I ask is that you keep him safe.” She mouthed amen, then summoned her nightly travel back in time to shoo away the dark scenarios swirling in her head. She was young and lean and could outrun every boy she knew. She smiled as she twirled alone in the fields behind her house, the wind her only companion. No pain, no foreign object in her body squeezing the life out of her. She faded off to sleep as young Angie started to run, run, run, oblivious to the life that would catch up with her.

  * * *

  —

  The next morning Angie had just sat down at the kitchen table for a second cup of coffee when she heard a knock at the door. Whoever it was had come to the kitchen door. Had to be a friend.

  She grabbed the edge of the table and took a deep breath before pushing herself to her feet. She hobbled to the door and peeled back the curtain to come nose to nose with the grim face of Coach Bryant.

  She yanked open the door and pushed back the screen. “Coach, what is it? Is my boy—?”

  “He’s fine, he’s fine, Angie,” Coach said, removing his hat. She opened the door wider and gestured toward the table. “Come on in. I have coffee on the stove.”

  He stepped inside and wiped his feet on the rag rug before closing the door. “Thank you, Angie. A cup of coffee would be nice right about now. I’m starting to think we’re going to skip spring altogether this year.”

  “Oh, you know how it is here in Clayton Valley,” she said, walking to the stove. “Our moody Lake Erie, always changing her mind.”

  He pulled off his jacket and draped it around the back of one of the chairs, set his hat on a corner of the table, and sat down. “Is your husband here, by any chance?”

  Angie continued to face the stove as she poured the coffee. “No, Bull’s not here right now.” She smiled at his sigh of relief, grateful for the camaraderie. She set the coffeepot back on the burner and turned around to face him. “What brings you here?”

  He rose to take the coffee from her with one hand, using his other hand to cup her elbow as she walked to the table. “Always a gentleman,” she said.

  His eyes fixed on hers as he tried to ignore the breathless framing of her words. “Angie, I’m here to tell you something about Brick. And I just want to say, I wish I weren’t about to add to your troubles today.”

  She set down her coffee cup. “If you can tell me my boy’s alive, Coach, I can handle anything else.”

  “Oh, God, Angie. Why even think—?” He held up his hands. “Dammit, Angie, I’m sorry. Of course.” She looked down at her lap and said nothing.

  “He was a good boy, your Harry. A great athlete, with a kind way about him. He had the biggest laugh. You’d hear him laughing and you’d start laughing, too.”

  Angie nodded. “Sometimes I see something that I know Harry would have thought was funny, and I can hear that laugh of his in my head.”

  Coach waited for a moment before continuing. “Angie, Brick asked me to stop by. To let you know what’s going on.” He cleared his throat. “Angie, Ellie Fetters is pregnant.”

  Silently, she nodded.

  “Ellie’s pregnant, and your son has done the right thing. He dropped Patch off at our house, and he and Ellie drove to Maryland and got married.”

  “Maryland? Why Maryland?”

  “I don’t know. Something about a shorter waiting period or how it’s easier to get a marriage license there. I’m not clear on the details. The Fetterses’ pastor set it up.”

  “Pastor Woodruff?”

  Coach nodded. “He knew another minister in Cumberland who could marry them.”

  Angie folded her hands on the table. “So, a minister married them. That’s good.”

  Coach took another sip of coffee. “I want to say something else, Angie. Your son is an honorable young man. He wanted to tell me himself, tell me in person, that he was going to have to turn down the scholarship.”

  “What scholarship?”

  Coach pushed his chair back a bit. “The basketball scholarship?” he said slowly. “To Kent State?”

  Angie took a shallow breath and exhaled slowly between pursed lips.

  “Angie, I thought you—” She waved him silent and exhaled slowly again before looking at his face. “My Brick had a college scholarship, and he never told me?”

  “Angie, I think maybe he—”

  She waved him off again. “That poor boy. He must have been so scared.”

  Coach shifted in his chair. “Scared? Why would he be scared? This was the chance of a lifetime. I’m sorry that Ellie may have trapped him like this.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Shame on you, Coach. You know that’s not true. Ellie Fetters’s only crime is thinking since the day they met in seventh grade that the sun rises and sets in my son
. I’ve seen how she looks at Brick. I’ve watched the way his face changes every time he says her name to me. She believes in him. Always has. I don’t need to tell you why that would matter to a boy like him, a boy who grew up in this house.”

  Coach shook his head as he whistled, long and soft. “I’m a little surprised to hear you defend that girl,” he said. “Principal Stanley says she’s ruined his life.”

  “Nonsense,” Angie said. “She has saved his life. Do you have any idea the comfort I draw from knowing he’ll have her by his side?” She narrowed her eyes. “Will he still graduate?”

  Coach nodded. “Principal Stanley promised that he would.”

  “And Ellie?”

  “Angie, you know a pregnant girl can’t graduate.”

  “I know she can’t walk in a cap and gown, but she can surely get her diploma. She’s a bright girl, and you know it.”

  Coach shook his head. “Principal Stanley’s pretty mad at her.”

  Angie gripped the edge of the table. “Do I need to go down to that school, or are you going to take care of this? You know he’ll listen to you.”

  “Why do you care, Angie? After what’s happened?”

  “That’s exactly why I do care,” she said, releasing her fingers. “This is the kind of thing that can hang over a marriage. Is that what you want?”

  “No,” Coach said, shaking his head. “Although, I’ll admit, I was real angry when Brick first told me.”

  “What changed?”

  He stood up and pulled on his cap. “I told my wife. She set me straight. And if I didn’t know better, I’d swear you and my Loretta had a little chat before I got here.”

  “Thank you, Coach.”

  He smiled sheepishly. “You know what Brick told me? If it’s a boy?”

  “I don’t even need to guess,” she said, returning his smile. “They’re going to name him Sam.”

  Ada frowned at the dangling mailbox cover. How many times had she asked the postman to slam it tight after he slid the mail into the box? She peered in and immediately recognized Ellie’s small backhand script on the postcard sitting on top of the slender stack of mail. She looked around and slipped it into her apron pocket before walking up the driveway.

  She set the rest of the mail on the kitchen table and walked to the window over the sink. She could barely make out the shadow of Wayne on the tractor. He’d be in the fields for at least another hour before coming in for lunch. She sat down in her rocker and slid the postcard out of her pocket.

  Dear Grandma,

  I found the mirror in my vanity case, so I guess you already know what’s wrong with me. I’m so sorry I let you and Grandpa down. I cry every time I imagine what you must think of me now. Brick and I got married. He tells me he loves me every day, and I know he means it. He already got a job at EEI. I have wanted to be a mother all my life, but I’m a little scared about it right now. We will be at Aunt Nessa’s until we move into our new house at 1225 Erie Street. I hope you’ll call. I miss you, Grandma.

  Love,

  Ellie (Mrs. Brick McGinty)

  P.S. Thank you for the mirror. I will cherish it. I hope I can look in it soon and feel proud of the girl looking back at me.

  Ada tucked the card back into her pocket and thought about all the things Ellie needed right now. The hope chest Wayne had made for her at Christmas, of course. All the hankies and clothes she’d left behind, too. To fool me, Ada thought. To keep her plans a secret.

  On washday, two days before they eloped, Ada had been pulling the fitted sheet off Ellie’s bed when the toe of her shoe hit something hard, so she pulled up the bed skirt. As soon as she saw the suitcase engraved with Pastor Woodruff’s initials, Ada had known what Ellie had planned. She’d been surprised by her sense of relief.

  Wayne may have hated Brick McGinty, but Ada was glad the boy had done the right thing. She was grateful to Pastor Woodruff, too, even though it hurt that he had gone behind her back to help Ellie and Brick leave town.

  “I know this isn’t what you wanted for your Ellie,” Pastor Woodruff had told Ada when he showed up at her door the day they left. “But I believe this is all part of God’s plan.”

  “You could have told me you knew, Pastor,” she said. “You could have let me know she was going to run away, and how I could help.”

  “Ada, I mean no disrespect. I told you before I wouldn’t violate her trust, just as I’ve never betrayed yours. You love that girl with all your heart. She loves you, too, and wanted to save you the expense and embarrassment of a wedding in Clayton Valley.”

  Ada sighed. “The Bees will be busy with this one.”

  “The Bees are your friends, Ada. There’s not a one of them who hasn’t had to deal with life’s disappointments. I know that even better than you.”

  Ada tried not to smile. “Well, that’s none of my business, is it? I do appreciate the reminder.”

  “With a little time, you’ll all forget how their marriage started,” he said. “Time has a way of taking care of that. Time, and love.”

  Ada pulled out the postcard again and squinted at the postmark. Ten days had passed since Ellie had mailed it. She was already at Nessa’s house. Ada couldn’t deny that the two most helpful people in Ellie’s life in recent weeks, Pastor Woodruff and Nessa, were also the two least judgmental people Ada had ever known. And two who never married.

  She patted her pocket, infused with a new sense of certainty as she stood up. With or without Wayne, she was going to see Ellie.

  Nessa answered the phone on the second ring. “Well, it’s about time you called,” she said, but Ada could tell from the sound of her voice that she was overjoyed to hear from her. “She needs you, Ada.”

  That was all Ada needed to hear. She would walk the fifteen miles to Erietown if Wayne refused to drive her. She walked to the kitchen and slid the chicken casserole into the oven, then went upstairs to the bedroom. She sat down at her vanity and reached for the bottle of White Shoulders that Wayne had bought her five birthdays ago. “Desperate times,” she whispered at the mirror as she dabbed her neck and her wrists with the perfume.

  Ada waited until Wayne had finished his lunch and was nibbling on one of the cinnamon rolls left over from breakfast. She refilled his coffee cup, set the percolator back on the stove, and sat down across from him. “I need to talk to you,” she said. He took a sip and lowered his cup so gently it barely registered a sound as it met the saucer. His eyes were red. Tired, Ada told herself, and for just a moment she questioned her timing until she remembered what Nessa had said.

  She reached into her pocket and locked eyes with him as she slid the postcard across the table. Wayne looked down at the familiar handwriting and smiled as he reached into the chest pocket of his overalls. He pulled out a postcard and slid it across the table.

  “You aren’t the only one she loves, Grandma,” he said, his eyes wet again as he smiled at his wife. “I got to the mail before you did. I say we make a trip to your sister Nessa’s tomorrow. How’s that sound to you?”

  Ellie handed Brick a bottle of Schlitz and then settled into the rocker next to his on Aunt Nessa’s screened-in porch. “You’re starting to look a little pregnant, Pint,” he said, his face beaming. She placed her palm on her stomach. “I hope you’re still going to love me when I can’t see my feet anymore.”

  “I love you more every day, El,” he said. “I can’t wait until we’re in our home and rocking that little guy to sleep each night.”

  “Honey, I hope you won’t be disappointed if it’s a girl.”

  He took a swig of beer and shook his head. “I’m going to love it no matter what it is. But I have a feelin’ it’s a boy.”

  “Well, we’ll know for sure soon.”

  The newlyweds fell silent as they rocked, Brick slow and steady, Ellie moving in quick, short bursts. Their
view was full of the sights and sounds of the rowdy softball practice on the field across the street. Grown men, all past their prime, drinking beer and slugging balls. One of life’s mysteries, Ellie thought as Brick closed his eyes and fought the urge to join them.

  They were far enough from the kitchen that they didn’t hear the phone ring. For another thirty seconds, Ellie later thought, they still believed life was finally calming down. Brick was working at the plant, and they were only two weeks and three days away from moving into their own home.

  Aunt Nessa stood ramrod straight at the phone as she listened. “I’m so sorry, Lillian,” she said. “Hold on please and I’ll go fetch him.” She walked quickly through the dining room and toward the front door, pausing at the sight of Ellie and Brick. Two kids, still, holding hands across the doorway, rocking in unison.

  “Brick. Your sister Lillian is on the phone.”

  “Lillian?” he said, springing out of his chair.

  Ellie stood up. “What is it, Aunt Nessa?”

  Nessa pressed her hand against Ellie’s back. “Go be with him, sweetie. It’s about his mother. He’s going to need you.”

  “Hi, Lil!” Ellie heard him say as she walked to the kitchen. By the time she got there, he was slumped against the wall, both hands clasping the receiver. When he saw Ellie, he turned away. Will it always be like this? she wondered. When my husband needs me most, he will turn his back to me?

  Brick squeezed his eyes shut as Lil talked, silent as he tried to absorb the news.

  “Yeah. Yeah, Lil. I’m still here. How come she never told me?”

  Ellie could hear snippets of her sister-in-law’s voice.

  Cancer.

  Didn’t want to worry you.

  We thought she had a little more time.

  Ellie walked up to Brick and laid her hand on his back. He started to sway.

  This was not the plan.

  Since their wedding day, Brick and Ellie had mapped the best time to visit Angie, and just yesterday they’d decided to go to Clayton Valley next Sunday. Ellie was starting to show, and she had wanted to wait to see her new mother-in-law until she could go into town and buy a decent maternity blouse. They’d had it all figured out. They’d drive Ellie to Brennan’s department store on Saturday. Brick would sit in his parked truck and listen to the Indians game on the radio while Ellie bought her new blouse and stopped at the glass cases near the exit to pick up a half-dozen cream puffs at the store’s bakery.