Lariats, Letters, and Lace

by Agnes Alexander

  Taking a chance it was the right time, she ducked under the table with the other girls following closely upon her heels. Scurrying along on hands and knees, she stopped right behind her grandpa’s legs, and the group huddled in a bunch of summer calico and petticoats behind the protective overhanging edge of the red and white checkered oilcloth table covering.

  Meredith pressed her index finger to her lips and fixed each girl with a stern don’t make a peep frown. Then directing her ears and interest to the talk, she listened…

  ****

  Dale Forbes ambled across the grassy city park on his way to the line of picnic tables, noting with fondness the five girls enjoying a tea party on a quilt spread in the long shadows of the Elm and Cottonwood trees. Three of the girls, Meredith, Violet, and Beryl—his only grandchildren—were great friends with the two oldest grandchildren of his long-time friend, Simon Driscoll. He chuckled. An ornerier group of girls he’d never known, especially his oldest granddaughter, Meredith. But for all her shenanigans, Meredith was as good-hearted and as hard-working as any child in town. For that matter, all three of the Forbes girls and the Driscoll Five, as they were called, were kids to be proud of.

  Beer glass in hand, Dale took a seat on a wooden bench positioned along the length of the makeshift sawhorse-and-plank picnic tables. He joined his brother-in-law, Ben Perlman, and Simon Driscoll where they sat nearby in camp chairs, also nursing beers. With his back resting against the edge of the red and white checkered oilcloth-covered table, Dale settled into a comfortable position with his legs stretched out and polished boots crossed at the ankles.

  The planners of the annual Platte River City and Colorado Days Celebration had outdone themselves this year. The parade, as usual, had kicked-off the activities, and then throughout the day, judging of food and sewing items kept most of the womenfolk occupied, while foot and horse races for everyone took up the main street through town. Now, the women and older girls bustled about with supper preparations, while youngsters and dogs ran unfettered in and amongst the crowd. Who couldn’t find peace and contentment among such fine friends and family?

  His favorite part of the celebration was still to come. When it was good and dark, the dance pavilion would light-up and for the rest of the night, it would be music, dancing, and laughter. He planned to take a few turns around the dance floor himself before the night was over. Get-togethers like this always brought home to him how much he missed Marjorie. My, but how they’d enjoyed community dances. She’d been happiest amid the hustle and bustle of people sharing good times, and she’d always lent an untiring hand when hard times visited folks. If only she hadn’t taken ill. If only…

  Dale sighed and took a drink of beer. They’d been blessed with many good years together. Enough time had passed that he could think of Marjorie without feeling too sorry for himself, well, except for holidays and special occasions. He didn’t quite dread it, but the stretch between Thanksgiving and on past her January birthday was a tough, lonely road to walk without her. He was glad the season was still some months away. Long about the first of December, he started working up a positive and happy front for his family and friends, because it was easier than enduring their pity that he was alone during the most sentimental time of the year.

  As much as anyone else did, he enjoyed the family togetherness and the anticipation that with the coming year, hopes and dreams might come true, and the tribulations of the past year could be wiped clean from the slate of life. During the winter months was when he most wished for a woman’s companionship. The days were short and the nights long. It was a time for sitting beside the fire after supper and enjoying a good book and conversation. He’d liked being married. He couldn’t put words to how much he missed having a woman in his life, living in their own house, embracing what each new day brought, and then ending each day lying together while their love renewed under the restful serenity of night. No one could count on seeing the next sunrise, but with his health, sound mind, and strong back, he had every reason to expect many years lay ahead of him. But there were those times when facing another lonely night was a daunting undertaking.

  “You’re not as talkative as you were earlier.” Simon nudged Dale’s shoulder. “Thinking about Marjorie, aren’t you?”

  “What? Oh, well, sometimes I get to thinking things I’ve no business thinking.” Embarrassed, Dale gulped a too-big mouthful of tepid beer to wash away the unbidden melancholy he strove so hard to avoid, and it scorched his throat all the way down like a lump of burning coal, sending him into a coughing fit.

  Ben grabbed Simon’s beer to keep it from spilling, while Simon whacked his palm down between Dale’s shoulder blades in a misguided effort to help him catch his breath.

  “Damn,” Dale croaked. “Went down the wrong pipe.” He wiped his face with his shirt sleeve, retrieved his beer, and this time took a slow, careful drink. From the corner of his eye, he saw the tea party girls coming along the table just at the moment Beryl stuck a finger into the icing on a cake then popped her finger into her mouth, which garnered a scolding from Meredith and giggles from Violet. Meredith had a mother hen streak in her when it came to watching over her younger sisters.

  Ben’s voice brought Dale back into the conversation. “I suspected as much. I’ve seen that look on your face many times since Marjorie died, especially lately.”

  His brother-in-law knew him well.

  Ben went on. “Marjorie was a tireless organizer of the town’s first celebration. It doesn’t seem like this should be the fifteenth year. I recall the first one like it was yesterday. My, but how time does fly.”

  Dale cleared his throat to hide the emotion wedged sideways like gravel stuck in a chicken’s craw. “Well, I won’t lie. I miss her something fierce on days like today.”

  Simon said, “Dale, I’ve been trying to find the right time and the right way to say this, so I’ll just say it flat out. It’s high time you found yourself another woman.”

  “I concur.” Ben added. “There is no logic in remaining single if that is not how you want to live the rest of your life.”

  Dale hedged, then decided there was nothing to lose through honesty. These two men were his best friends. They’d stood beside each other during the lean times as well as through the prosperous years. “Well, I’ll admit I have considered remarrying, but the only women around here I’m partial to are already spoken for or too young for decency’s sake to even think twice about courting.”

  “I had the same problem, but Ben helped me get past it.”

  Dale looked between them then landed his gaze back on Simon. “Are you suggesting I take your approach?”

  “Well, it worked for me. Tessa’s a darn fine woman.”

  “That she is, and she’s been a boon to this community, but…” Dale knew what he wanted to say, but he didn’t want to offend Simon.

  “But what? I said my mind, so it’s only fair you say yours.”

  “All right. I don’t mean to step on your toes, but for as close as you and Mamie were…” He couldn’t finish; he was treading on ground too personal for him to travel even with Simon’s permission.

  Simon nodded. “I know what you’re trying to say. Yes, it took me a while to warm to the idea of taking another wife, and for a while, it did feel like I was being unfaithful to Mamie. Then, I realized that remarrying didn’t mean I had to quit loving Mamie or stop thinking about her. She has a different place in my heart than Tessa does.” Simon leaned forward. “And I found out my heart’s big enough to love them both.” Simon punctuated his sentence with a decisive nod then sat back in his chair, clearing his throat in such a way that Dale realized how hard it had been for his quiet-spoken friend to step out of himself and offer a glimpse into his well-guarded feelings. That little show of honest emotion meant a lot to Dale, but everything that came to mind to say in return sounded maudlin and sappy, so he settled for plain old thanks.

  “I appreciate that, Simon, but I just can’t see myself doing what y
ou did. You had a strong reason. You had to have a wife so you could get custody of your grandkids.”

  Ben suggested, “Dale, when a person feels empty inside, maybe companionship is reason enough.”

  Dale stared into his beer, thinking and nodding. Ben had a gift for putting into words what others wanted to say, but didn’t know how, and he’d hit the nail on the head. He was lonely. Not so much that it interfered with his day-to-day living, but enough that three years ago, his youngest son, Joe, and his wife, Ginny, had invited him to move into the big house with them.

  It had taken him a good six months to decide, but once he’d made up his mind, it had been the right thing to do. With three young granddaughters to dote upon and a daughter-in-law who indulged him, he was happy enough and certainly comfortable living with them, but it wasn’t home. It wasn’t his home, which brought up another point he worried over.

  “How did Tessa… I mean to say, did she mind moving into a house you’d built for another woman?”

  Simon shook his head. “Not at all. In fact, she put her things right in alongside Mamie’s like they’d been there all along.”

  “That didn’t bother you?”

  “Nope. It felt natural right from the start. In fact, it’s important to Tessa that I tell the grandkids stories about their real grandma and their parents so their memories aren’t forgotten.”

  “Maybe if I was as fortunate as you to find a good-hearted woman…” Dale exhaled a slow sigh. “Well, you both know I don’t make hasty decisions. I’ll think on it.”

  Ben prodded in his gentle, commonsense way. “You’re not getting any younger. Why put it off? There is a wealth of publications available for your perusal in which you’ll find women seeking varying degrees of permanency, and some will state their specific expediency of need. I could procure one for you.”

  Dale arched a skeptical eyebrow. “So you’re saying it’s as easy as thumbing through one of the catalogs Abe Ketrick keeps on the counter in the mercantile, and I can just take my pick?”

  Simon chuckled. “Well, that’s simplified, but yes, it’s something on that order.”

  “Is that what you did? I mean, I know you put out an advertisement, but that’s about all you’ve ever said about it. And nothing in life is free, so I expect there’s some cost involved.”

  “Ben handled the details. He can tell you about it better than I can.”

  Ben elaborated. “It’s quite straightforward. I was familiar with a long-standing and well-respected Kansas City publication called the Matrimony Courier. It was prudent that Simon put forth his situation straight-away, so to that effect, I sent the appropriate advertising fee, his photograph, and a succinct description that included his particular needs in a wife. I stated that interested parties should send a letter of introduction along with their photograph in care of my newspaper.”

  “Why to the newspaper?” Dale asked.

  “It was one thing to introduce Simon’s new bride to this community following a non-existent courtship and secret wedding. It would have been quite another for him to endure their sometimes less than thoughtful opinions regarding his mail-order matrimonial endeavors.”

  Dale nodded. “Good points. Go on with the story.” And he did understand. While he loved his town, he knew it was like any other, abundant with gossips and plenty of folks who considered it their civic duty to pass judgment on how others lived their lives.

  “I also specified where and when the interviews would occur, since there was no time under the circumstances for further correspondence. As an incentive for ladies to respond, Simon reimbursed a portion of each woman’s travel expenses to the interview location.”

  Dale looked at Simon. “So you had takers other than Tessa?”

  “Yep.”

  “What made you choose Tessa from the other women?”

  “I can’t put words to it. I just knew.” He threw a quick glance toward Ben. “And Ben knew right off, too.”

  “Hmm.” Dale took a drink of beer. “Hmm.”

  Simon went on, “As a gift on our first anniversary, Ben gave Tessa and me a pristine issue of the Matrimony Courier with my advertisement. Tessa just had torn out the page with my information, and I didn’t have a copy, so having a nice one is a meaningful keepsake. Next time you come out our way, I’ll show you. Tessa keeps it in a special box in the parlor.”

  “How long did this whole process take?”

  “Well, let me think.” Simon removed his hat, scratched his head, and resituated the hat at a jaunty angle. “All told, two months, give or take a few days. But you have to remember, I was under a deadline. You wouldn’t need it to happen that fast.”

  Ben urged, “On the other hand, if you were to begin corresponding with an interested woman by the first of autumn, it’s reasonable you could have a fine lady here before the turn of the year and plan for a spring wedding.”

  “Now that’s a fine idea.” Simon snapped his fingers. “A winter courtship with a Valentine’s Day wedding.”

  “A…a winter what? Valentine’s wedding? What—?”

  Simon talked right over Dale’s stuttering protest. “I can’t think of a better day than Valentine’s Day, can you, Ben?”

  “In fact, I cannot. Dale, a Valentine’s Day wedding would honor any bride.” Ben tipped his beer glass in salute. “Here’s to a long and happy life with your new bride. May she possess culinary talents for a bountiful table, may her laughter be as light and fresh as a spring morn, and may her beauty and grace be as charming as the warmth and love in your hearts.”

  Simon raised his glass, working hard to keep a straight face. “To the future soon-to-be Mrs. Dale Forbes.”

  “I’m so glad we’ve settled this. I’ll buy a new suit for the ceremony, polish my Sunday boots, and get a haircut and shave at the barbershop.” Dale leveled them with a hard frown of that’s about enough of this nonsense.

  They had a good laugh, then Simon’s demeanor took on a serious tone. “Dale, all jesting aside, who knows how much time any of us has left. There’s no sense putting things like this on the back burner. Sometimes a man’s just got to step up and take charge of his life before it’s too late. Regrets make for lonely bedfellows.” He looked at Ben then back to Dale. “It was Ben who made me realize that, and now I’m passing his wisdom along to you.”

  Dale’s laugh was more of a snorting grunt. “It’s a darn good thing I call you my friends, because you’d be the death of me if you were my enemies. I can’t thank you enough for heading me in the right matrimonial direction.” Lifting the beer glass to his mouth, he mumbled, “in a pig’s ear”, then he finished off the last swallow and smacked his lips. “I’ve had all the advice for my own good I can stand for one day.” He fixed Ben with a pointed frown. “And don’t be getting any catalogs on my behalf. I don’t need folks talking about me and twittering behind my back. Let’s get more beer. I’m a little frazzled, and you fellas need to let this conversation alone.”

  Simon winked at Ben. “See there. He’s already warming to the idea.”

  Dale shook his head as he led off across the park toward the beer wagon on the far side of the dance pavilion only noticing in passing that the girls were nowhere around.

  ****

  No sooner did the girls arrive back to their tea party quilt than Violet blurted, “Oh, Merrie, do you think Grandpa will do it? Do you think he’ll get married again?”

  “Not without—”

  “I hope so. Mama’s mother lives so far away, that I forget what she looks like until the next time she comes to visit. It’s like we don’t have a grandma at all.” Beryl crossed her arms over her chest and puffed out her bottom lip in her practiced six-and-one-half-year-old pout.

  Meredith explained in her patient way, “I know we don’t see Grandmother Barbara often, but don’t forget she writes and sends presents. And, yes, none of us remembers Grandma Margaret. Now, to answer Violet’s question. No, I don’t think Grandpa will get married again.”


  Beryl and Violet’s faces fell, but Meredith didn't let them stew in disappointment for long before a smirk broke through her mock frowning countenance.

  “Unless he gets a little bit of help.”

  “What kind of help, Merrie?” Violet’s eyes shone with renewed excitement.

  “Our special help.” Meredith licked her lips, nodding as an idea took shape in her mind. “Grandpa said he often thinks about getting married again, but we also know that his thinking about something can take a really, really, really, really long time.”

  Clapping her hands, Beryl scooted closer to Meredith. “Ooh, ooh, you come up with the best plans. How are we going to help him get us a grandma?”

  Meredith looked at Lydia, the oldest of the Driscoll siblings and nearly a year older than Meredith. “We need to see the magazine your grandpa talked about. I won’t ask you to sneak it, but if you asked, do you think your grandma will let you bring it when you come in to church tomorrow?”

  Lydia hesitated. “I don’t think I’d best ask. She’ll be suspicious since I’ve never asked to see it before.”

  “Oh, pooh. You’re right. I daren’t ask around for a magazine for the same reason.”

  Lydia’s eyes sparkled with an idea. “I know, I’ll ask if you all can come out for an overnight. We’ll get Grams talking about how she came out here to marry Pap. I’ll bet she’ll show it to us then.”

  Meredith snapped her fingers. “Good idea. We’ll ask after church tomorrow.”

  Beryl tugged Meredith’s sleeve. “Why do we need to look at the magazine?”

  Meredith lifted her hand for her to wait while she continued working through her plan aloud. “Writing a letter of introduction like Uncle Ben explained will be tricky. We can’t use just any paper. We have to make a good impression. There’s plenty of fancy paper in the rolltop desk in the den. Mama writes so many letters, she won’t even notice if we use a few pieces.”