Falling for You Again

by Catherine Palmer

  “That’ll be his second one this year,” Charlie remarked. “I wonder if he’s got a drinking problem.”

  “Ashley wants so badly to have a perfect marriage, but she’s struggling. I think she married Brad because she was amazed and flattered that he took notice of her in the first place. The girl has no idea how pretty she is with all that long red hair and those big brown eyes. She married him before she gave it a second thought, and now she’s stuck with a drunk who spends money left and right. He’s never home, you know.”

  “Brad is a kid, Esther. He’s got to learn what being married is all about. We were kids once too, remember? We had some hard times.”

  “I know. … I remember what I did to you. …” Her voice quavering, Esther pulled the sheet up over her face and pressed it against her damp eyes. “I forced you to give up your dream when you were young, and I did it all over again when I made you retire. I ruined your life. Oh, I might as well have died in that crash. I’m going to pass away anyhow, and then you’ll be free of me.”

  Unable to stop crying, Esther saw the past flashing through her mind like an old flickering movie reel. So many things she’d done wrong. So many ways she had failed her husband. Her children. Her friends. Even God.

  “Now what’s this all about?” Charlie murmured, tugging the sheet out of her hands. He ran a finger down his wife’s cheek, as he’d done so many thousands of times before. “Esther, I love you. You’ve made me a happy man, and I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

  As he spoke, Charlie slipped his arms around his wife and lifted her to his chest. Holding her firmly, he rubbed her back for a moment. Then he began to shift her toward the edge of the bed.

  “You’re going to get out of this bed right now, Mrs. Moore,” he declared as he pushed aside the sheet and drew her to her feet. “You’re going to put on some real clothes. And we’re taking Boofer for a walk. Don’t even try to argue, because I’m sticking to my guns on this one.”

  Sniffling, Esther leaned on her husband’s arm as she shuffled toward the bathroom. She truly did feel old now. Much older than before the accident. Driving the careening car across the yard, she’d had a strange sense that she was propelling herself toward death. Toward an unexpected ending, neither planned nor prepared for.

  She hadn’t died, but she had seen the end of life. She had looked it in the face. And the experience had aged her.

  “How about these?” Charlie asked, holding up one of the many identical pairs of elastic-waist slacks—each in a slightly different color—that Esther had purchased at her favorite store over the years. He plucked a hanger from the closet. “This shirt ought to be easy to slide over your arms without causing any pain. I’ll help you with the buttons.”

  “Charlie, you’ve got a pair of brown slacks in one hand and my Fourth of July blouse with American flags all over it in the other. What are you thinking, you big galoot? Don’t you know how to match outfits after all this time? For pete’s sake, you’re just like the kids. How many years did I work on teaching them manners? They still forget to put their napkins in their laps, and they chew with their mouths open as bad as they ever did.”

  Pushing away from her husband, Esther sorted through her clothes until she found a nice blouse with chocolate and tan stripes. “Brown goes with brown,” she instructed Charlie as they headed for the bathroom. “And here’s the sweater I usually wear with this outfit. See these red, brown, and gold leaves embroidered down the front and on the pockets? That’s because it’s an autumn sweater. In autumn, you wear brown, gold, russet, cranberry, and plum.”

  “What about your favorite color?” He paused a moment and then said, “Purple.”

  “Didn’t I just list plum as an autumn shade? What color is a plum, Charlie? Honestly, sometimes it’s an uphill battle with you.”

  As she spoke, Esther managed to slip out of her gown. Charlie propped her up on one side, and she balanced herself on the edge of the sink with her free hand while she worked to get her feet into the trouser legs. Such an effort! She secretly wondered if she had broken something and the doctor had failed to notice. Her body felt like one of those forgotten Easter eggs discovered a few days after the hunt—still in one piece, but cracked all over.

  “My, my, my,” Charlie said as Esther pulled on her blouse. He waggled his eyebrows at her. “You are one good-looking gal. You’ve got my heart beating so hard, I think I’m beginning to feel a little frisky.”

  Rolling her eyes, Esther brushed his hands away and buttoned her blouse by herself. Wouldn’t you know it? Here she was, half dead, sore all over, recovering from the most harrowing experience of her life, and all her husband could think about was how frisky he was feeling. How many times had the man seen her body in various stages of dress and undress? She would never have believed that at sixty-eight years of age and after forty-eight years of marriage, Charlie Moore still had just one thing on his mind.

  At a glance in the mirror, Esther groaned. But she truly didn’t look as bad as she had feared. While Charlie hovered, she patted powder on her nose and slicked on a pretty shade of lipstick. Her hair was awful, and she knew she would have to miss this Friday’s set-and-style at Just As I Am, but what else could she do? She couldn’t go out in public in such a state. Tugging a gold silk scarf from her drawer, she tied it around her white hair. Then she stepped into a pair of soft brown leather shoes and looked up at Charlie.

  “There. I’m ready for a walk.”

  He grinned and offered his arm. “Shall we promenade, madam?”

  Esther looped her arm through Charlie’s and let him escort her through the house. Beside himself with joy at the emergence of both his owners in sweaters and jackets, Boofer hopped down from the sofa and began racing around their feet, barking like crazy. The pudgy black mop was clearly certain that a walk was in the offing.

  When Charlie pushed open the front door, Boofer darted outside and dashed toward the mailbox. A brisk wind hit Esther and nearly knocked her backward. She realized at once that she should have worn a coat. The sweater wouldn’t keep her warm enough in the biting breeze.

  “One of us is going to come down with pneumonia in this chill,” she predicted as they made their way across the front porch and down the steps.

  Charlie glanced at her. “People don’t get pneumonia from cold weather, remember? You read it in one of those women’s magazines. Germs or some such is what causes colds and pneumonia. You’re the one who told me that.”

  “I did? Well, I don’t remember. My mother always said a cold wind never did anyone any good.”

  She lifted a hand and waved as Derek Finley drove by in his Water Patrol truck. “He’s such a nice man,” she said. “He treats Kim like a queen. As far as I know, he never brings up her past—that awful husband she had to escape with the twins in the middle of the night. But Kim really made something of herself. A dental assistant. That takes skill, you know. A person doesn’t just walk into a dentist’s office and start cleaning teeth. Kim went to technical school.”

  When Charlie didn’t respond, Esther continued down the path in silence. The houses that surrounded theirs were shut tight against the cold. Dreary square boxes under brown tree limbs. But inside there would be fires and hot chocolate and happy chatter. Suddenly it seemed to Esther that everyone in Deepwater Cove was young and busy with life. Even the neighborhood’s widows sashayed out to their bridge games, club meetings, shopping trips, and luncheons.

  Esther sighed. “I’m going to die, Charlie,” she murmured.

  His arm stiffened under hers, and he paused on the sidewalk. “Now what kind of nonsense are you talking, woman? You just got a few bruises, and they’re almost gone.”

  “But don’t you see? That accident proves it. Anything can happen.”

  “Sure it can. Folks die all the time—young, old, and in-between. Happens to every single one of us at some point.” They began walking again. “The accident didn’t mean you’re about to kick the bucket, Esther. For c
rying out loud, you sure are grumpy these days. I wish you would get back to being pert and peppy. This is getting tiresome.”

  Esther heard her husband complaining, but she couldn’t focus beyond her own thoughts. “I just never gave it much consideration. Dying. I always believed I had a lot more interesting, important things to do. But now that I think about my life, it wasn’t much. I didn’t go to college or get a job like Kim and so many others. I was no beauty queen, and I never won a single blue ribbon at the county fair. I didn’t have the voice to sing in the church choir, and I gave up teaching Sunday school because my heart wasn’t in it. All I really did was look after the kids and keep you fed and clothed. Now I spend my time getting my hair fixed or meeting with the TLC or sorting beads. I’ve never done a single significant thing. And I kept you from your dream too.”

  Charlie gave a low whistle, his traditional sign of frustration. Lips pressed together, he opened the mailbox at the end of their driveway. Esther could see that Christmas catalogs were starting to trickle in already. There were a few bills too. Nothing important.

  As Charlie shut the mailbox, he turned and faced his wife. “Esther, are you afraid to die?”

  She glanced away as tears once again sprang to her eyes. “Who wouldn’t be? Death is an awful thing. And then you go to heaven and have to play a harp for the rest of eternity. I swear, Charlie, sometimes I lie there in bed and wish I’d never been born.”

  “I cannot believe what I’m hearing out of your mouth. It’s like that crash scrambled your brains and left me with a different wife. Perk up, pumpkin. Please.”

  She shrugged. “Have the kids called today?”

  “Not yet. Give them time.”

  “You would think I could have done a better job raising them, since that’s all I had to do. But look at them. Charles Jr. works in an onion factory. Onions, of all things. And then there’s Ellie—she made such a mess of her life it’s a wonder she’s even alive.”

  “Charles manages the onion company, Esther. He’s got a fine wife and two sweet kids. Sure, Ellie made some mistakes, but God brought her back in line, just like we prayed. She makes a good salary running the church youth program. You can’t complain about that. She always wanted to live in Florida, and now she does and bought herself a condo there too.”

  For some reason, Esther had forgotten what her daughter was doing these days. Ellie had been in and out of so many jobs through the years. How long ago had she accepted that church position? After what the child put her parents through, it was a wonder to Esther that any church would want Ellie on its staff.

  Arms still linked, Esther and Charlie headed back toward the house. “Well,” she said, “there’s no question I steered your life onto the wrong course. I was selfish and insisted on having my way.”

  “Now listen here, woman!” Charlie halted and clamped his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “I want you to stop talking this kind of nonsense, right now. We’ve had a wonderful life, raised two great kids, and are happily retired. I look back on the years with a sense of accomplishment and gratitude. God has blessed us, Esther. Why can’t you remember that? We’ve got a nice house, enough money, good friends, and plenty to eat. Our marriage has been wonderful, and I’m happy we took the path we chose. I don’t regret a thing. Do you? Can you honestly disagree with anything I just said?”

  Esther gazed at Boofer, who was happily sniffing around the flower bed. The lawn was already brown in patches. The impatiens and begonias had begun to get leggy. It wouldn’t be long before the first frost would turn them into piles of green mush. Esther ought to get out and tie up the chrysanthemums. They were beginning to flower and get too heavy to hold their heads up.

  Was that how she would end her life? Drooping her head until finally she turned into a pile of mush? Esther could vaguely remember when budding mums had filled her heart with bubbles of joy. The first cold autumn breeze made her laugh out loud in relief at the end of another long, hot summer. She had savored the changing leaves, the smell of chimney smoke, the promise of snow.

  Now all she could think about was steering her car past the birdhouse and the tree trunks as its hood flopped up and down. She remembered the look on Cody’s face when she pushed her way out of the steaming car, its horn blowing so loud she couldn’t hear herself think. She recalled the hospital, people in wheelchairs, the odor of antiseptic.

  “Oh, Charlie,” she said, leaning into him. “When my car flew off the back of the carport, I feel like I landed in another world. Suddenly life seems so serious to me. No, that’s not right. Death seems serious. Life seems trivial. I can’t make myself care about anything. Why have I spent time and money getting my hair done every Friday? Why did I think a Labor Day barbecue was important? Why have the colors of my outfits mattered so much to me, Charlie?”

  “Because those things are all part of who you are. You like sunflowers. Purple is your favorite color. You’re talented at organizing parties and picnics. You get huffy if I dare presume to mismatch your shirt and your slacks because you take pride in your appearance. And I’m glad you do.”

  For the first time since the accident, Esther felt a smile tickle her lips. “I guess I do still care about that, after all.”

  “And we’re both getting pretty tired of me burning the beans and leaving lumps in the mashed potatoes. You still care about eating a good meal, don’t you?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “It’s all just life, honey.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders and helped her climb the steps onto the porch. “Barbecues, dogs, good food, and sunflowers are part of life, and that means they matter. God wants us to serve Him, but we’re to take pleasure in our world too. Even the hard parts—Ellie in trouble, Charles’s wife having miscarriages, your accident—those things are part of life too. Now, let’s get back to enjoying it together; what do you say?”

  Esther watched Boofer race ahead of them and stand at the front door, his tail wagging his entire body. She grinned. “You sure are wordy for an old man,” she told Charlie, giving him a coy glance. “Sometimes I think all you do is talk and eat.”

  At that, he reached down and gave her backside a gentle swat. “I’m good for a lot more than that, sweetheart. And you know it.”

  Carrying a piping hot tuna-noodle casserole up the Moores’ front walk, Patsy Pringle spotted three figures crossing the street toward her. Although the brisk wind chilled her bare legs and tossed the ruffled hem of her skirt, Patsy paused to wait for them. In a moment, she recognized Jennifer and Jessica Hansen, accompanied by Cody Goss.

  “Hey, Patsy!” Cody called out. “We’re bringing supper to the Moores. Lasagna!”

  “Lasagna?” Patsy rolled her eyes. “Oh, for pity’s sake, I thought it was my day to bring a meal. Isn’t this Friday?”

  “Today is Saturday, Patsy!” Cody bent over, slapped his thigh, and laughed. “We’ll have to get you over to Brenda’s basement and teach you how to read a calendar.”

  Both young women giggled as they reached out to hug Patsy.

  “I came home for the weekend,” Jessica explained. The younger of the two Hansen girls, she was a sophomore in college and newly engaged. “Mom and Jen and I are working on wedding invitations. Cody’s helping too. I can’t believe how many people are on our list.” Jennifer nodded. “I think Mom has invited the whole church, and Dad keeps adding real estate clients.”

  “My job is to tie an apricot ribbon through a hole in each invitation,” Cody said. “Apricot is Jessica’s wedding color. Everyone is wearing apricot, even me.”

  “Gracious!” Patsy sized up the handsome young man and wondered how Cody would look in an apricot tuxedo. “Well, you can tell me more about it inside. Let’s get out of the weather before our casseroles get cold.”

  They hurried across the porch to find Charlie Moore waiting for them at the front door. “Come on in, everyone! Bless you all for volunteering to bring us dinner. We might have starved from my bad cooking.”

  Patsy laug
hed as she hurried past him through the door. “Brr. This cold snap has about frozen off my fingers and toes.”

  “Look at this, now!” Charlie said, assessing the lineup in his living room. “What do we have here? Two beautiful Hansen girls. One dashing Cody Goss. And the glorious Patsy Pringle.”

  “Patsy’s an apple,” Cody piped up.

  “Ample,” Patsy clarified, feeling a flush heat her cheeks. “It’s something between Pete Roberts and me. Well, not between us like a secret or anything. There was a time when … oh, never mind. Come on, girls. Let’s put our dinners in the refrigerator. What do you want for supper tonight, Charlie? Lasagna or tuna-noodle casserole?”

  “Two dinners on one night. Now that’s what I’d call ample.” Rubbing his hands together, Charlie followed them into the kitchen. “I know—let me get Esther out of the bedroom. She’ll want to have her say in this decision.”

  Before long, Charlie had his wife by the arm and was escorting her into the living room, where everyone had settled. Patsy stifled a gasp of surprise at the sight of her friend. Usually coiffed, dressed in a classy outfit, and wearing a faint trace of perfume, Esther hardly looked like herself. Still in her bathrobe, she shuffled over and collapsed into a chair. Her white hair—about which she was positively vain—had gone flat on one side, with nary a curl in sight.

  “Esther!” Patsy cried. “Are you sick?”

  “No, it’s just the accident. It threw me off.”

  “Off the carport,” Cody said. “I was standing right over there in the kitchen, looking out the window, when I saw your Lincoln go flying through the air, Mrs. Moore. For a second, I thought I was watching a TV show back at my aunt’s house in Kansas. But then I saw the smoke and heard the horn—and I realized it was really happening. That’s when I hightailed it outside.”

  “The whole incident is a blur to me now.” Esther fiddled with her hair. “I’m worn to a frazzle. I can’t seem to find the energy to do anything.”