Falling for You Again

by Catherine Palmer

  Esther laughed. “Can you believe it? I had put my cranberry sauce into someone else’s cart and gone off with it. She and Patsy helped me track down my own cart, which was back at the tuna fish. Oh, what a day! But my hair looks pretty, don’t you think? Patsy always does such a nice job on my set-and-style.”

  Charlie took Esther’s hand and wove his fingers through hers. As always, his wife bounded from one topic to another until he could hardly keep track. But that was one of the things he had always loved about her. Chasing Esther’s conversations kept things lively. Sometimes she went so far afield that neither one could remember what they’d been talking about to begin with. Usually they ended up laughing. But not tonight.

  “Let me make sure I comprehend what you’ve told me,” Charlie said. “Are you saying that you and Cody burned up everything I took out of that bottom drawer?”

  “Not everything. I had saved cards the children gave me and sweet notes you left me on the toaster before you went off to work and little bookmarks from my mother’s Bible. I didn’t burn those. But all the rest of it is gone. The old magazines, too. Poof. Just like that. It didn’t take but a minute or two to turn everything to cinders.”

  “You burned that sketch?”

  “It was the first thing to go. It finally dawned on me how foolish it was to want to hang on to anything that might harm our marriage. It’s all gone in a flash of flames. I didn’t even want the ashes in our house. Cody helped me sweep them up and put them into a jar. And now they’re all at the bottom of the lake with the muck—exactly where they belong.”

  She leaned against Charlie. “I hope you feel better, honey. I sure do.”

  “Does this mean you agree with everything I said the other day?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Charlie’s heart was beating harder than he could ever remember. “Esther, did you tell me the truth when you said you and … George … never touched each other?”

  “No more than a handshake.”

  “But did you love him? In your heart, did you ever care for him more than you did me?”

  She pondered a moment. “I wish I could say I didn’t. But that first year of marriage, I was so young and scared and frustrated. You were gone, and he was there. Once in a while, I would get it into my mind that an artist was somehow better than a mailman. How silly. It’s not what a man does that matters. It’s who he is. And once you’re married, that’s not even the most important thing.”

  “What is the most important thing, Esther?”

  “Well, the vows, of course. On our wedding day, I promised to love and honor you. No matter what. I shouldn’t have nourished and dreamed about a friendship that filled the holes in my heart. That was wrong.”

  “Do you still have holes in your heart, Esther?”

  “Sometimes I feel a little ache when you and I don’t see eye to eye, or when you start acting bullheaded and deaf to what I’m trying to tell you. But you’ve learned a lot. Once I gave you the chance, you figured out how to meet my needs pretty well. Well enough that I wouldn’t ever want to lose you.”

  Charlie had to think about this. It bothered him that he hadn’t been able to make Esther completely happy. But then, she never had been the ideal wife either. They both had flaws; they did little things that annoyed one another; they made mistakes. Charlie knew Esther hadn’t filled his every desire and dream—in the bedroom, with the children, even in the kitchen, though he’d never admit to that last one. Evidently he hadn’t been all he should have for her, either. Was that so bad? Was it enough to give up on a marriage?

  For nearly fifty years, it hadn’t been bad enough to ruin them. And it wasn’t bad enough now.

  “I’m sorry too,” Charlie said, putting his arm around Esther and drawing her close. “Brad Hanes is so ignorant about how to treat his wife … but I bet I was nearly as ignorant myself.”

  “It took me a while to train you.”

  “I wish I hadn’t needed training.”

  “Well, you did. Anyone foolish enough to get drunk and go into a strip club needed a lot of work. But then, I had plenty to learn too. By having a male friend outside our marriage, I put everything that was happening between you and me on hold. All the things we needed to work out, everything we had to learn—it all stopped in its tracks. We could have fallen apart at the seams, Charlie. And then we would have missed such a wonderful life.”

  “Do you really mean that, Esther? Has our marriage been good? Are you satisfied?”

  “Satisfied?” she asked. Leaning forward, she kissed his cheek. “Utterly.”

  Charlie chuckled. “Good, then let’s go start on that meat loaf.”

  “Meat loaf?” Esther stood. “Did I say meat loaf? Oh, what was I thinking? I knew I put something with ground beef into the oven. I meant lasagna. Cody and I made lasagna. You should have seen the boy trying to hold on to those noodles, Charlie. Oh, it was the funniest thing in the world!”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Hurry up, Charlie!” Esther called to her husband from the master bathroom that Saturday. “We’re going to be late to the Thanksgiving weenie roast. I don’t care how goofy I feel today; I’m going on that hayride. If you fiddle around and make us miss it, I’ll be hopping mad, and don’t you doubt that for a minute!”

  Esther pressed the button on her hair spray and gave her curls another shot of mist. God had provided Deepwater Cove with the most beautiful sunny and bright autumn afternoon imaginable, but Esther knew that even the slightest whiff of humidity could make her hair collapse like a soufflé. She was wearing her favorite fall outfit: a lovely violet sweater set with embroidered leaves and tiny purple seed pearls made into bunches of grapes. The matching slacks with their elastic waist would provide comfort and warmth for the evening to come.

  A hayride. Apple bobbing. A bonfire. A weenie roast. Lots of friends and plenty of fun topics to discuss. She could hardly wait.

  Thank goodness she hadn’t forgotten about the event, Esther thought as she opened her cosmetics drawer. Missing Halloween had bothered her, even though everyone insisted that few children had come through the neighborhood. No matter what people said about the dark aspects of the holiday, Esther viewed Halloween as a time to enjoy giving little gifts. Nothing pleased her more than the shine in a child’s eyes when she handed out one of her net bags filled with treats.

  “Are you ready, Charlie?”

  He was in the bedroom getting dressed, Esther knew, and she still had to apply her lipstick and a little mascara. For some reason, throughout their marriage, her husband had always dawdled. One might suppose a mail carrier would be prompt and efficient. But not Charlie. He would search for a jacket or a pair of shoes until Esther nearly went out of her mind.

  “Wear your green jacket,” she called. “The corduroy one. It’ll look nice with my grape leaves.”

  Esther had forced herself not to think about the surgery scheduled for the day after Thanksgiving. In a sense, God had given her a great gift by putting the procedure right behind a holiday. This way she had so much on her mind that she couldn’t dwell on the horrible image of that probe sliding through her artery.

  It wasn’t fair that she should be the one to have plaque. In his mailman days, Charlie had eaten enough doughnuts to encircle the earth. What could be worse for arteries than doughnuts? But no, Esther had to be the one with clogged-up blood vessels. Charlie would have handled this problem so much better than she. He was a strong man. Valiant, even. He would brave a balloon and a stent without blinking an eye. Dear, sweet Charlie.

  Esther was so glad she had burned all those magazines and letters from George Snyder. Why hadn’t she done it years ago? How could she have been so weak as to fall into a friendship with another man, innocent as it was? Thank goodness it was behind them now. Ever since she had dumped the ashes into the lake, Charlie had been his usual kind and gentle self. It felt as though a high wall between them had tumbled to the ground.

  “Did you find that jacket?” Esther
asked as she stepped out of the bathroom. “It’s hanging in the hall closet beside the—”

  The sight of the crowd standing in the bedroom nearly buckled Esther’s knees right out from under her. With a gasp, she caught the edge of the dresser for support. Brenda Hansen, Kim Finley, Ashley Hanes, Patsy Pringle, and Bitty Sondheim surrounded Charlie.

  Wearing a big grin on his face, he stepped toward Esther. “Madam,” he said. “Your gown.”

  Across his arms lay a pouf of orchid-colored netting and silk, velvet ribbons, and delicate lace.

  “My prom dress!” she exclaimed. “I thought it was in the attic. What on earth?”

  “We’re having a Thanksgiving parade,” Kim told her. “And we’ve elected you and Charlie as queen and king for the day.”

  “Queen?” Esther laid her hand at her throat. “Me? I’m the queen of the parade?”

  “Yes, you are. And now, Your Majesty, if His Royal Highness will kindly step outside for a moment, your handmaidens will prepare you for your carriage ride.”

  “Oh my!” Esther could hardly believe it. The women shooed Charlie out the door, and then they began to lay out the old gown. It had been in the attic for years, and Esther was sure it must be full of holes.

  “Brenda repaired it,” Patsy said. “I swear that girl can sew anything. Look at this tiara Ashley made for you. Here, let me fix your hair so everything will look right. Kim, would you open my bag and start heating the curling iron?”

  “Oh my!” Esther said again. Before she knew it, Kim and Ashley began helping her out of the sweater set. Patsy lowered Esther to the bed and started tucking the tiara—a soaring creation in crystal beads of every hue—into the older woman’s curls.

  Brenda gave the gown a shake to set the ruffles and netting in place. Then she and the others carefully eased Esther into the fragile garment.

  “It still fits!” Esther exclaimed.

  That might have been a bit of wishful thinking, Esther admitted to herself, but she didn’t care. So what if her curves had drooped and spread in various directions. Brenda managed to zip up the gown, Patsy added a few tissues to fill out the bodice, and Bitty unfolded one of her own large shawls. For once, Esther couldn’t find fault with Bitty’s choice of accessory. The length of light purple wool would go perfectly with the gown, and it would keep the queen of the parade warm in the evening chill.

  “Come on, everyone!” Ashley said. “We’ve got to hurry before the sun goes down.”

  Ashley fastened a three-strand necklace of pink pearls around Esther’s throat while Kim helped her into the white gloves saved from the Moores’ wedding. It was almost too much to bear, this amazing bustle of lovely women—dearest friends and beloved companions. Esther knew she shouldn’t cry, because Patsy had been dabbing all sorts of cosmetics on her face while the others arranged ruffles and netting. But how could she hold in the tears of joy? All her life, Esther had loved parades. She had gazed at homecoming queens and Dogwood Festival queens and Country Days queens with admiration and even a touch of envy. But never had she permitted herself to dream of being a parade queen herself.

  “Here we go!” Patsy sang out, taking Esther’s arm. “Right this way, Your Majesty.”

  Giggling and crying all at the same time, Esther hurried down the hall and out the front door. And there stood Charlie. Oh, so handsome in his gray deacon suit, white shirt, and a new tie.

  “A purple tie?” she cried as he bowed before her. “Where did you get that?”

  “Lady Brenda Hansen sewed it for me.” Charlie was smiling as though he really did have a lovely queen on his arm. He led her down the sidewalk to the carport, and there—lo and behold—sat the old golf cart covered with purple chrysanthemums, billowing ribbons, flags, streamers, and strings of beads.

  “It’s beautiful! Just beautiful,” Esther gushed. “Charlie, did you know? Did you keep this secret from me?”

  “Some secrets are meant to be kept,” he murmured, giving her a wink. “For a little while anyway.”

  As the crowd gathered around them, Charlie helped Esther into the passenger side of the cart. The seat had been covered with a length of purple velvet edged in gold fringe, and all the women bent to help tuck the gown’s billowing skirt into place. Charlie settled in behind the steering wheel and gave the horn a little toot-toot.

  At that, he pushed on the gas pedal and off they went, with everyone following behind. Luke and Lydia had decorated their bicycles. Someone was pushing a baby carriage. Two other golf carts pulled in behind the Moores’.

  And that’s when Brad Hanes stepped to the very front of the parade, a large boom box in his hands. He raised it over his head as music began to play.

  Esther felt it was almost too beautiful to bear. “Charlie, it’s a miracle!” she exclaimed. “A miracle I never expected in my whole life.” He laughed. “Who ever expects miracles? That’s what makes them so special. Like the day I saw your smile for the very first time. I could not believe God had actually created such a beautiful, perfect woman. But there you were right in front of me.”

  “Perfect? That’s so silly.”

  “But true. I was thunderstruck. And when you spoke to me and said you’d go to the diner with me and then to a picture show … well, it was all a miracle.”

  Esther giggled as she waved at the few neighbors who weren’t already in the parade. “I’m the Thanksgiving Queen!” she called to Opal Jones, who was sitting on her front porch. “Charlie’s the king, and I’m the queen!”

  Opal probably didn’t have her hearing aids in, Esther realized, but it didn’t matter. Anyone with two eyes could see the glittering golf cart and the handsome couple seated inside it. Esther had the sensation that she was floating along on a lavender cloud as the breeze lifted and played with her skirt. What a lovely evening. What wonderful neighbors. What a delightful place to live. And what a perfect man to be her gallant king.

  As the golf cart neared the commons, the youngsters on bicycles veered away from the parade and headed toward a huge pile of driftwood that had been stacked up near the lakeshore. Esther watched as Brenda and Steve hurried hand in hand to set up tables. Patsy started toward the picnic area, and Pete Roberts quickly took off behind her, trying to catch up as she went about organizing the festivities. Kim and Miranda Finley were chatting amiably when they turned toward the commons to keep an eye on the twins. And then Ashley skipped up to where Brad was just turning off the CD player.

  “Look,” Esther murmured, elbowing Charlie. “They seem happy this afternoon, don’t they?”

  “Happy enough,” he said. “But not nearly as happy as we are.”

  “Hey, Mr. Moore!” Cody cried, nearly deafening Esther as he stuck his head under the golf cart’s canopy and leaned across to shout at Charlie. “Let’s go around again. I’ll play the music this time.”

  “Sure!” Charlie and Esther said in unison.

  Esther watched as Cody took the CD player from Brad, held it over his head, and once more set off along the road that circled the neighborhood. Charlie pressed on the gas pedal and they started off, a parade of three.

  “And how are you on this fine evening, my queen?” he asked as he slipped his arm around Esther’s shoulders.

  She snuggled against him. “I don’t believe I’ve ever been happier.”

  Cody led the Thanksgiving King and Queen around Deepwater Cove six more times, giving them plenty of opportunity to admire the sunset, watch the bonfire go up in a burst of flames and sparks, gaze at the yellow moon rising over barren tree branches, and marvel as the stars came out across a velvet sky. They heard the same songs over and over—“As Time Goes By” … “When You Wish Upon A Star” … “The Look of Love” … “Moon River”—but Esther didn’t mind. She loved every single one. Even better, she loved the man beside her. When his kiss brushed her cheek, a flood of warmth burst open inside her heart.

  “I love you, my dearest Charlie,” she said. “I love you so much.”

  “You’re t
he queen of my heart.” He pressed his lips to her gloved hand. “Always have been. Always will be.”

  “Hey, guess what!” Cody’s face appeared again under the golf cart canopy. “It’s weenie time, Mr. and Mrs. Moore! I love hot dogs. Let’s get ’em!”

  “You go ahead,” Charlie told the young man. “We’ll be there in a minute.”

  “I’ll save you some. How many do you want? Five? Or eight?”

  “Three ought to do us.”

  “Okay!”

  The cart slowed to a stop as Cody hightailed it toward the pile of embers around which the Deepwater Cove neighbors stood in silhouette.

  “Come here, you sweet little thing,” Charlie said against Esther’s ear. “A real king needs a real kiss.”

  Esther wrapped her arms around her husband, happy to oblige.

  Pete had decided a long time ago that sitting on the ground was for the birds. And as Cody would confirm, this was a good metaphor.

  In the light of the dying bonfire, Pete could see he had no other seating option but the cold, hard earth. The picnic benches in the commons area were filled with people chatting, laughing, and eating hot dogs. But Pete could not count himself among the contented. His belt buckle was digging into his midsection. His legs were starting to prickle and fall asleep. Even his hands, on which he had propped himself in a half-reclining position, were going numb.

  “Isn’t this beautiful?” Patsy sighed. “I can’t imagine feeling more thankful than I do right now.”

  Pete would be a lot more thankful if he had a lawn chair under his backside, but then he wouldn’t be able to sit so close to the woman he loved. He had doubted many things in his life. His father. His mother. Marriage. The detox center. Most of all, Pete had doubted himself.