“They were old and fraying,” he hollered. “I special ordered some new ones but they won’t be in for a few weeks.”
I hoped I would live to see them.
“Isn’t this great?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I yelled over the engine roar.
He stopped abruptly at a red light, causing my knees to press up against the dashboard. The small plastic elk head he had hanging from his rearview mirror dangled wildly.
“Hey, whatever happened to that girl in Thelma’s Way?” he asked.
“Grace?” I asked back.
“Yeah, Grace. Too bad about her doctrinally incorrect name.”
“We believe in grace, Elder.”
“Doran.”
“We believe in grace, Doran.”
“So what happened to her?” he asked, apparently not wanting to get into a gospel debate at the moment.
“She’s here,” I informed him.
Doran looked around the cab of his truck. “I’m sure she is, Trust. You always did act a little funny about her.”
“Not here in . . .”
The light turned green and we sped off noisily. Doran spotted an empty parking lot with hundreds of speed bumps. He turned sharply and began bouncing over all the long asphalt lumps. Our heads knocked against the roof of the cab as he swerved and plowed over more of them. Doran laughed as if this was as fun as life could possibly get.
“Listen,” I tried to reason. “Could you slow it down a little?”
“Watch this,” was his reply. He pulled into a dirt field next to the parking lot and began spinning circles, his big tires grinding loudly as I became wedged against the passenger door. Dirt was spraying everywhere. He honked his horn and “Yee Hawed,” in celebration of diggin’. The thought struck me that Elder Jorgensen and I really were very different. When I had served with him, I thought the talk about his truck was kind of folksy and endearing, and I had seen his enthusiasm as a positive missionary tool. Now those two things combined were going to kill me. I held onto the door handle and tried to act as if I were having fun. I could see other cars along the road staring at us as we spun donut after donut in the dirt. I was surprised that Doran wasn’t too dizzy to drive. He had obviously done this before. He kept on turning, picking up speed.
I was just about to suggest we move on to something less noisy and mind-numbing, when I shifted in my seat and accidentally pushed the handle on the door. Like a Pringles can, it popped open, blowing me out. I flew through the air and onto the hard dirt ground, crumbling into a six-foot-two bent-up heap of human.
My head hurt. Earth exploded all around me as my mind began to grow dark. The last thing I remembered was the sound of Elder Jorgensen’s musical truck horn playing “La Cucaracha.”
11
Kicking ’Em When They Fall Down
November 25th
The person who invented hospital food must have been a patient himself, admitted because he was an abnormality of nature and had no taste buds. I pushed my piece of turkey away in unsavory disgust.
This was the worst Thanksgiving ever.
I had attempted to be gracious by telling Grace and my family that they should not bother about me and to go on and celebrate at home.
The nerve of them to listen.
I had been in the hospital for over four days now. The concussion that I had sustained by falling out of Elder Jorgensen’s truck left me in pretty bad shape. Today was actually the first day that I had begun to feel almost normal again. After I had been thrown out of the truck, Doran rushed me over to the hospital where I had lain unconscious for days. When I had come out of it, Doran was leaning over me, shaving the hair on the right side of my head.
“What are you doing?” I whispered.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “Just rest.”
I should have worried. When I really came out of it a day later, one side of my head was bald. I would have been completely bald if it hadn’t been for a nurse stopping him mid-strand. Doran claimed he was just trying to help, shaving my head in case they needed to perform surgery.
I was so glad Doran had come to Southdale to visit me.
Grace had spent all of her evenings by my bedside. She read to me and talked to me even though my side of the conversation was often lacking. She would tell me all about her job and how Brother Taylor, or Noah, as she had taken to calling him, was really working hard to get this town up to speed.
Doran felt so bad about everything that he had decided to stick around until I was completely better. He had also been kind enough to volunteer to take Grace to and from work each day.
According to my sister Margaret, Grace was beginning to fit in. The ward had really come around ever since Noah Taylor had given her a job. The only person who was still having a hard time was my mother. She just could not accept the fact that Grace might someday be her daughter-in-law. I’m sure my father would have been struggling with it too, if it weren’t for the fact that he still wasn’t around. He would call my mother every few days to let her know that he was all right, but he wouldn’t say what he was up to, and he wasn’t rushing home. It wasn’t that big of a deal to my mom; business was business, and if providing for the family meant that he had to be away for a couple of weeks, then so be it. That was all well and good, but I couldn’t help thinking it was awful strange for him not to come home for Thanksgiving.
Thanksgiving afternoon, Doran brought Grace over for a visit. Then he left us alone so we could speak.
Grace looked great. Southdale seemed to sit well with her. She was wearing faded jeans and a smile that seemed to suggest she still liked me, regardless of my half-missing hair and attractive gown.
“You look good,” she said, sitting down on the side of my bed.
“Not as good as you,” I replied.
Grace leaned over and kissed me. Despite my hospital breath we both seemed to enjoy it.
“I’m sorry about all this,” I offered. “I was supposed to be helping you adjust to Southdale.”
“Doran’s helping,” she said.
“Doran’s the reason I’m here.”
Grace’s red hair looked so dark that day. She had also cut it a few inches shorter. The way the ends of it lay across her dark T-shirt had me fixated. A sense of something washed over me. Grace was changing on me, and it was no longer subtle. Like a dam that was bursting after years of a slow leak, she wasn’t holding back anymore. A personality, a presence that had been stored away all these years was emerging in full force. She wasn’t the same person I had known in Thelma’s Way. It scared the heck out of me—she was already more than I could comprehend, and the possibility of where she could end up blew me away. At the same time, it thrilled me beyond words.
“Well, I shouldn’t stay long,” Grace said. “Your mother wants me to help her with something, plus Doran needs to speak to you for a moment alone.”
“He’s not carrying any razors is he?”
Grace laughed.
“Have they told you yet when you get to go home?”
“Hopefully in a couple days.”
“I can’t wait,” Grace smiled, her pink lips causing my monitors to jump.
She leaned over and kissed me again.
“I think I love you,” I said.
“I thought you might,” she whispered, giving me her standard reply.
Grace slipped out of the room and Doran came in. He shut the door and pulled up a chair beside me.
“Hey,” he said, straddling the chair backwards, his long legs pushing his knees up to his chin.
“Hey,” I said, wishing that I was still talking to Grace.
“You feeling better?”
“A little.”
“Sorry about the hair,” he apologized.
“It’ll grow back.”
“That’s where you’re lucky,” he tried to joke. “Mine’s thinning out, never to return.”
I pretended as if I hadn’t noticed.
“You okay?” I asked him, noting t
hat he seemed a little nervous.
“Actually, Trust, there is something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“All right.”
“I don’t think you’ll think so.”
“What is it?”
“Well, I feel real bad about what happened to you. Real bad. You know you were my favorite companion and everything. I learned more from you than anyone else.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Now here you are in the hospital because of me. I shouldn’t have taken those seat belts out.”
“These things happen,” I consoled.
“I’m glad you feel that way. Anyhow, I really do think that things happen for a purpose. God doesn’t stir something up for nothing. I had an uncle that got hit by lightning and lost his sight. Two weeks later he got hit by a car and passed away. My mom’s always thought that God took his sight away so he wouldn’t see it coming. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
“I think so,” I lied.
“Good,” he said with some relief. “Well, I think something good might just come out of all this.”
“Are you thinking of something specific?” I asked.
“Actually, now that you mention it, there is one thing. You know I’ve been wanting to help you out,” he rambled. “I just feel awful about all this.”
“You said that.”
“I helped your mom with that garage door you were fixing.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” he said with a faint smile. “I took Abel shooting with his BB gun. We didn’t hit anything, but there was some bonding going on.”
“He’s a good kid,” I said, wishing he would get to his point.
“I’ve been driving Grace to and from work.”
“That’s great.”
“There’s more. It seems as if I have fallen in love with her,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, but what could I do. Her, me, driving back and forth in my truck. I’m only human.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It was like Donald Duck saying he now liked Minnie Mouse. He had no right—Minnie belonged to Mickey. The analogy wasn’t that great, but I was on a lot of medication at the moment.
“Did something happen between you and Grace?” I asked, dumbfounded.
“Oh, no,” he insisted. “I haven’t even touched her.”
“Have you talked to her about this?”
“Nope. She’s usually too busy talking about you.”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Well, I’m glad you brought this up,” I exhaled dramatically. “I guess it might be best if you just went back to Idaho before your feelings get too strong for her. I’m sure my mother can get Grace to and from work. Besides, I won’t be in here that much longer.”
Doran just stared at me.
“You are leaving?” I asked.
“Trust, I don’t know how your parents raised you, but my folks have always told me to follow the prophet. And the prophet has said that every young returned missionary shouldn’t waste any time getting married.”
“But he didn’t tell you to marry my girlfriend.”
“Maybe not exactly.”
“Doran.”
“I love Grace, Trust. I didn’t come here right now to bow out, I came here to tell you of my intentions. I plan to marry Grace in the Idaho Falls Temple as soon as she says yes.”
“Is this a joke?” I asked, beginning to get a little bothered by it all.
“This is no joke, and those are my intentions,” he said, standing.
“Grace is my girlfriend,” I debated. “She came here so that the two of us could figure out our future together.”
“Things change,” he said firmly. “I just thought I had better be honest with you about all this. I’d better go.”
“But . . .”
He was gone. It was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard. Elder Jorgensen and Grace. The idea was so absurd that I wanted to laugh. The phone in the room rang. I picked it up to find my mother on the other end.
“Trust, is Grace still there?” she asked.
“No,” I answered. “She just left with Doran. Why?”
“Nothing really,” she answered guiltily.
“Mom, what is Grace going to help you with this afternoon?” A growing sense of concern was coming over me.
“I suppose I can let you know now,” Mom gave in. “The missionaries in our ward are looking for people to practice their discussions on. I thought Grace would be perfect. They should be here in a few minutes.”
My mother was so sneaky.
“Mom, just because Grace fell for me while I was serving a mission doesn’t mean she’s going to fall in love with one of those elders.”
“Trust, I’m just trying to help Elder Nicks and Elder Minert learn their discussions.”
“Mom, they’ve both been out for over a year and a half,” I argued. “I’m sure they know their discussions by now.”
“Elder Nicks is from Arkansas.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“All I’m saying is that Arkansas is a lot closer to Tennessee than here.”
I’m sure that in my mom’s mind this all made perfect sense.
“Grace is going to know exactly what you are trying to do, Mom.”
“Trust, I don’t think it’s very nice of you to second-guess your mother.”
“So where are they going to teach her?” I asked.
“I thought I’d let them do it in the den, it’s much more private.”
“Mom.”
“I’ll keep the door cracked,” she defended.
“You’re not going to sit in with them?”
“Oh, I’d just be a fourth wheel.”
“Mom, I’m in love with Grace.”
“I’m sure you think you are. I’d better go,” she said. “I wanted to warm up some leftovers for the elders. Happy Thanksgiving, Son,” she added.
Click.
This was just perfect. First Doran was staking claim, and now my mother was throwing our poor missionaries into the pot.
A nurse came in and messed with my IV for a bit. I asked her for extra drugs and she didn’t even smile.
The world was a cold, cruel place.
The nurse left, and a few moments later I heard a soft knock on the door.
“Come in,” I said dejectedly.
In walked Lucy Fall.
If Moses himself had come to visit I could not have been more surprised.
“Lucy? Is that you?”
“Hello, Trust,” she said, her demeanor softer and more subdued than I had ever remembered. “Can I come in?” she asked.
I should never have said yes.
12
Contrition
Lucy Fall moved through the hospital doors and out into the November cold. She pulled her wool scarf tightly around her neck and breathed in deeply. Thanksgiving had turned out a little different than she had predicted. Of course, the entire month of November had not gone as previously planned. For the first time in her life Lucy was having to adjust to change.
The divorce was already going through. Lance didn’t want to waste any time getting it all over with. Apparently he had other matters on his mind. Brunette matters. Lucy was as anxious as he was to finish it. She wanted nothing more than to be done with Lance. He had been a bad decision, with a costly outcome.
Lucy found out from a friend about Trust’s accident, and that he was staying at the Southdale University Hospital. For the last few days she had wanted to stop by and visit him, but it had never felt right until today. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was about all that she had put him through, and apologize for the way that she had treated him in the past. Her intentions were forgiveness.
Bare trees twisted in the wind as Lucy crossed the street and approached the parking lot. A few leftover leaves swirled around her feet like they were connected with string. She reached her car and got inside quickly.
The wild air howled, angry over her getting away.
Even in the hospital gown and with a half a head of hair, Trust looked good. He represented everything Lucy had given up and now wished to have back. He had been glad to see her, fumbling even.
Lucy had forgotten about the effect she had on him.
Lucy hung her head as she sat there in her car. Once again the tears came. Her shoulders shook and her eyes poured. As she had done so often in the past weeks, she just let it happen, feeling better after it passed.
Things were changing for Lucy, and this time possibly for the better. It seemed as if for the first time in her life she was recognizing a real soul within herself.
Was that possible?
Lucy had no real intention of taking Trust back. She had heard that he was interested in a red-headed girl named Grace whom he had met on his mission.
Funny, Lucy thought, Trust had not even brought this Grace girl up tonight.
Lucy started her car and slowly pulled out and away.
13
Infiltration
Roger passed the potatoes and smiled. He had never seen so much food in his entire life. Mounds of it rolled over the table like foamy waves. Bowls the size of bathtubs were bursting with cheese-covered confections and piles of meat. His eyes sized it up as his stomach trembled. This was his third Thanksgiving dinner for the day.
“Are you certain no one else will be joining us?” he asked Sister Watson for the second time.
“Certain.” She smiled. “Just you and me. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, when I turned twelve my mother changed my name from Cindy to Melinda.”
“I thought your name was Mavis?” Roger asked.
“That’s a whole other story,” Sister Watson replied. “We’ll go into that later.”
Roger Williams tried to remain calm. These last couple of weeks had not been easy for him. He had thought that it would be so simple to just walk in, find the Book of Mormon, and walk out. That had not been the case. It had taken him two days just to locate Thelma’s Way. And now here he was after weeks of combing the town with nothing to show for it. He had had some success in convincing the locals that the book really wasn’t worth that much and that they had been misinformed about its real value, but that was it. He could not comprehend how his son Trust had managed to live so long among these backward people. There had been moments when he even considered just giving up his quest, but he wanted that first edition Book of Mormon. And he felt confident that once he located it, he could talk whoever had it out of it for next to nothing.
Falling for Grace Page 6
