Her next words spilled out of her in an effort to alleviate his pain—one she knew only too well. “You really helped me right after . . . you know . . . coming here every day, putting the mail in my box. If it snowed or rained or whatever, you were there. It gave me a reason to get up in the morning, something to do. I know that sounds silly, but it’s true.”
When he didn’t reply right away, Kerrianne shifted on the sidewalk uneasily, clasping her hands behind her back and wishing she hadn’t opened her mouth. She was normally more careful about exposing her feelings. Why did she have to be so impulsive today? “Well, um, I wanted to say thanks, that’s all.” She nodded at him and stepped away, her face flushing brighter still at his lack of response.
At last he cleared his throat and swallowed, as though doing so was difficult. “That means a lot,” he said. “After my wife died, my son, he was only two. My daughter was so . . . well, strong and capable, but he needed me enough that I had to keep going forward. I understand better than anyone how important something simple can be after a tragedy.” He smiled gently. “Whether it’s getting the mail or changing a diaper.”
Kerrianne felt the color and tenseness seep from her face. “I’m glad,” she whispered. “Have a good day.” With another nod, she turned and jogged up the walk. Inside the house, she stood with her back against the door, willing her heartbeat to slow. What was the big deal? She’d simply told the mailman what it had meant to her all these years to have something to get up for. Especially in the months directly following Adam’s death—months that she might have spent entirely in bed. Instead, she had been sitting on the porch reading the mail by morning light. Or at least holding it and looking at the mountains.
“Mommy, are you okay?” Caleb came into the hall, carrying a book she’d told him she would read to him later. “Didn’t we have mail?”
The mail! She’d completely forgotten to go to the box. She slowly opened the door and peered around it. The mail truck was nowhere to be seen. “I’ll go get it now.”
“I want to come.”
They walked down to the curb together, only to discover two bills and a solicitation from a charity. Kerrianne wasn’t surprised to find no personal letters. The only person she ever wrote was Adam’s widowed mother in California, and she’d received a letter from her last week. Her other friends and family used e-mail.
She spent the morning reading to Caleb, tidying the house, and preparing for her preschool. She had started the school to help with the bills, wanting to save as much of Adam’s life insurance as possible for the children’s college. Adam had been a strong advocate of education, and she would see that their children had every opportunity in that respect.
Sometimes she pondered how strange it was that everything else proceeded onward when Adam’s life had not. Each of her siblings was now married and had a family, all three having acquired a child or two at the time of their marriage. Amanda had gone on to have more children. Hurricanes and earthquakes still ravaged the world. People continued working. With the help of her brother, brother-in-law, and father, Kerrianne had finished a spacious room in her basement and started a preschool.
The funny thing was that sometimes she couldn’t remember what Adam looked like. She’d take his picture and stare at it, but he would almost be a stranger. At other times, the picture brought back memories that made him seem so real she could reach out and touch his face.
When it was time for her afternoon classes, Kerrianne opened up her garage so the students could come in that way and down the stairs directly into the preschool. As the children arrived, Caleb was beside himself with excitement. “Look! We have new puzzles!” he shouted as the children gathered. “My mom opened the new ones.”
The boys and girls worked at puzzles or played with toys as the others gathered. Kerrianne felt content as she helped each one feel comfortable. She loved teaching the children, and they loved her. They never looked at her as half of a couple.
The last child to arrive was accompanied by his grandmother, Bernice Stubbs, an older widow who lived two streets over. Bernice wore her gray hair proudly, and her face was thin and covered with what Kerrianne assumed must be all the wrong colors of makeup because she looked garish, pinched, and unhappy.
“Hello.” Kerrianne gave her a smile.
“Would you mind if I picked Michael up ten minutes late today?” Bernice asked, smoothing her brown skirt. “I’m getting my hair done, and Maxine is also doing a facial for me afterwards. I just love her products. Pity they’re so expensive.”
Kerrianne nodded. “She only sells them to get a discount for herself. But they’re good products. I’m thinking of buying a few things myself.” She had felt pretty Saturday night.
“Oh?” Bernice’s eyes dug into hers. “Makeup?”
“Yeah, I’m all out.” No use in telling her how long she’d been out.
“You don’t normally wear makeup, do you?” Bernice’s voice was kind, but there was an underlying steel to her words.
Kerrianne made a face, remembering how Ryan hadn’t recognized her at first on Saturday night. “I haven’t for a while. I’m just ready for a change.”
Bernice opened her mouth, hesitated a moment, and then replied, “Speaking of change, can you believe Maxine lately? I’ve seen her all over town with one gentleman or another. All the neighborhood is talking about it.” She shook her head and tsked. “I know I couldn’t do such a thing. It would be a betrayal to my poor, dear husband.” She sighed loud and long. “You and I were lucky, Kerrianne. You can tell we really loved our husbands because of the way we act. Maxine must not have loved her husband nearly as much as we did ours or she would never be able to look at another man.”
Kerrianne was confused for a moment because she knew Maxine had loved her husband deeply. “She should really stay home and knit or something,” she declared flatly.
Kerrianne’s sarcasm was lost on Bernice. “Exactly!” The older woman sniffed hard. “If she really loved her husband, she wouldn’t need to go out. Before you know it, she’ll get married. Humph! I would never get remarried. It would be a betrayal, I tell you.”
Kerrianne didn’t want to continue this conversation. It too closely mirrored the feelings in her own heart, though she certainly she didn’t blame Maxine for wanting to have a bit of fun. And hadn’t she herself agreed to get out and meet people? If Bernice found out, Kerrianne would be the talk of the neighborhood instead of Maxine.
That idea provoked Kerrianne to add somewhat nastily, “Maybe someone should tell the bishop.” It was hard to say with a straight face, but she managed—barely.
Bernice looked at her, as though seriously considering her suggestion. “Well, you know what, you might be right. I think on Sunday I’ll have a nice chat with the bishop about Maxine.”
Kerrianne immediately felt guilty. “Bernice, no. I was just kid—”
“Don’t worry about it. I won’t mention your name. Really, it is for the best. Maxine has no idea what men can be like. They take advantage of widows all the time. It’s for her own good.”
Kerrianne couldn’t imagine anyone taking advantage of Maxine.
“And the bishop will thank me, I’m sure.”
Kerrianne gave up. This was not a conversation she could win. “I’m sure he’ll be grateful,” she lied. In reality, she bet the bishop ran the other way whenever he spotted Bernice. Or maybe he’d duck into the nursery to hide, knowing Bernice wouldn’t likely be found there. The thought of their dignified ecclesiastical leader skulking in the nursery to keep away from Bernice cheered Kerrianne exceedingly. She may not have much of a social life, but at least her imagination was still working.
“Guess I’d better start class.” Kerrianne gestured to the children. “How about I walk Michael over to Maxine’s when we’re finished?”
“Oh, that would be heavenly. Thanks so much.” Bernice turned to Michael and to his disgust, smooched his cheek noisily. “Good-bye. Be a good boy.” She stood up and
turned so quickly that her high heel caught in the carpet, causing her to stumble up the first steps on the stairs. Pretending not to see, Kerrianne turned her back and began helping the children with the puzzle so Bernice wouldn’t see her grin.
Old biddy. Kerrianne thought, surprising herself. It wasn’t like her to be so unkind. But she suddenly found she was tired of being kind. Maxine was one of the most genuinely nice people Kerrianne had ever met. She didn’t deserve to be gossiped about by a woman who apparently had nothing better to do than spy on her.
But was Bernice right? Was it impossible to enjoy the company of another man and still remain true to your husband? Well, it didn’t matter because Kerrianne was perfectly happy with her life as it was. Even so, she was going to buy that makeup. She wanted to look good for herself, and that was that.
“Okay, children,” she said, putting on a bright smile. “Let’s practice phonics!”
* * *
At ten minutes after two, Kerrianne walked down the street to Maxine’s as Caleb and Michael skipped on ahead. The day had turned dull and gray, and the cloudy sky overhead looked threatening. Today was early out day, and Kerrianne hoped the children would be home from school before it began to pour.
She was surprised to see all the cars parked outside Maxine’s, stretching past the neighboring houses on both sides. Apparently Bernice was not the only woman receiving a demonstration. There was a note on the door: Come in, all ye who want to be more beautiful and look younger!
“That’s me all right,” Kerrianne said aloud.
There was a burst of laughter as she stepped inside the house, accompanied by a flurry of excited voices. She followed the voices into Maxine’s kitchen and adjoining sitting room. The couch, love seat, and kitchen chairs had all been pushed back against the walls, leaving the middle clear except for a coffee table filled with beauty products. The dozen women in attendance ranged in age from about forty to seventy, which meant that Kerrianne at nearly thirty-one was the youngest by almost a decade. Besides Maxine, she recognized only two women sitting on the raised hearth in front of the unlit gas fireplace. They lived in the neighborhood, though not close enough to attend the same ward on Sundays. She knew nothing else about them, not even their names, except that they were both divorced. Kerrianne wondered where Bernice was.
“Ah, Kerrianne,” Maxine spied her as she entered the room. “Glad you’re here. Bernice told me you were coming. Come and eat something.” She gestured to her kitchen table that had been pushed against the wall, laden with goodies. Many of the women were eagerly filling their plates.
“Actually, I came to get a few things—makeup, I mean. If you don’t mind. I didn’t realize you were having a full-fledged party.”
“I’m glad you came.” Maxine leaned over and whispered. “For you everything is thirty-five percent off—that’s my price. Most everyone else has to pay full price. Don’t worry, they can afford it. They need to afford it.” Her eyes fell on Caleb and Michael. “I bet you two would like some cookies,” she said in a louder voice. “Go ahead. Help yourselves.”
The boys shed their winter coats onto the floor and dug into the table of goodies with enthusiasm, never mind that Kerrianne had already given them snacks at preschool. Kerrianne picked up the coats as Maxine pulled her over to an empty chair straddling the line where the carpet met the ceramic floor tile. Kerrianne stuffed the boy’s coats under the chair and sat.
“Everybody, this is Kerrianne,” Maxine announced. “She’s my neighbor and, of course, also in my ward.”
“In our ward,” said a woman on the couch across the room, punctuating her words with a sniff that sounded awfully familiar.
Bernice? Kerrianne gazed at the woman, blinking in complete surprise. What had happened to her? Her pinched, yellow look was gone, along with the bright blue eye makeup she’d sported earlier. These were replaced by muted shades that showcased her rather beautiful brown eyes. Her thin lips were emphasized by liner and lipstick, the colors more mauve and muted than the dark brown she usually wore. Her hair was still gray and the hair permed in outdated ringlets, but the overall change was so dramatic that Kerrianne could only stare in wonder.
“You’re gaping, dear,” Maxine whispered in her ear before sweeping across the room to resume her work on a kindly woman with white hair and so many wrinkles that Kerrianne doubted any amount of cream could ever smooth her face.
Kerrianne clamped her mouth shut quickly. “You look great, Bernice.” She’d been about to say “Wow, you don’t look anything like yourself!” but bit her tongue just in time.
“Thanks. I do rather like it.” Bernice looked at Maxine. “But isn’t this rather expensive for eye shadow?”
“Not at all,” Maxine said. “It’s very concentrated and won’t wear away like other eye shadows. Besides, it’s made of all natural ingredients so you know you’re protected from free radicals.”
Kerrianne wasn’t about to ask what those were. The last time she’d asked, the explanation had left her rather dazed but with an urgent desire to do anything to protect herself and her family from free radicals, which were apparently the cause of everything from mild bad breath to debilitating cancers.
“Welcome,” said the woman seated next to Kerrianne. Her wavy hair was a strawberry blonde that attractively framed her heart-shaped face, and her makeup was applied with an expert hand, making it difficult to really pinpoint her age. Her figure was on the verge of being too thin inside her designer pantsuit. She held out a hand with a cheerful smile that lit up her hazel eyes. “I’m Tina. It’s good to meet you!”
“I’m Kerrianne.”
“I know, Maxine’s told me about you. Isn’t Maxine a hoot? I just love her.”
“Yeah, she’s great.”
“You’re younger than I expected, though. Too young for all this.” Tina fluttered a hand.
“Too young for what—makeup?” Kerrianne motioned to the coffee table of beauty products.
She laughed. “You’re never too young for that.”
“Then what?”
She lowered her voice. “To be a part of the Independence Club. That’s what I call this lot. In secret, of course. We’re all widows or divorcees. So we’re, well, a bit more independent than a lot of women we know. Meaning that we get out of the house alone more. We have a wonderful time together.”
Kerrianne’s smile froze on her face. “I—uh . . .” She didn’t know what to say. Looking around the room, she did feel young. Way too young. Certainly too young to be part of any club that didn’t include her husband, who had been her best friend almost since the day they’d met. She felt a driving urge to leap up and flee from the room. She needed chocolate, huge amounts of chocolate. Oh, why hadn’t she made it to the store yet? She would have to go the instant the children arrived home.
Tina noticed the change in her expression. “Am I wrong? I’m sorry. I thought I heard Bernice and Maxine mention that your husband had passed away. Maybe they were talking about someone else.”
“I am a widow.” Kerrianne managed to say. “But I—I . . .”
“You miss him,” Tina said, her thin arched eyebrows wrinkling with concern. “Of course you do! I bet you had one of those fairytale relationships. What a lucky girl! I bet you’re grateful every day for the time you had.”
She spoke brightly and with such enthusiasm that Kerrianne didn’t have the heart to tell her on most days she wasn’t grateful at all but instead spent her time mourning that her time with Adam had been so short. “Yes, I was lucky,” she said to Tina. That much was true, whether or not she acknowledged it frequently.
“That’s really great. The Lord certainly has a way of blessing us, doesn’t He? Anyway, forgive me. I should be more careful when I speak.”
“That’s what you get for hanging around Maxine,” Kerrianne muttered with a touch of asperity. “She always says what she thinks.”
Tina laughed loudly, and to Kerrianne’s surprise, she found herself smiling back.
A few weeks where? wondered Kerrianne, nodding politely. Who was this obscenely happy woman and where did she get these strange ideas? Everyone knew being single was fun, but that was before you settled down and had children. She couldn’t believe it could ever be that way again. And yes, a large part of her didn’t want it to be. She’d lost the love of her life—and she was supposed to find happiness in that? If a million men brought her flowers, it wouldn’t make up for Adam not being able to do so himself.
Kerrianne looked across the room at Bernice, hoping to change the subject.
“She’s so pretty,” Tina whispered, following her gaze. “And what a sweet woman. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know her better today.”
Kerrianne let out a loud snort, turning it into a hardy cough at the last moment. Sweet? When had anyone ever called Bernice sweet? She was a lot of things, but Kerrianne was absolutely sure sweet wasn’t one of them. “You, uh, like Bernice?”
Tina nodded. “She has a lot of interesting ideas.”
Huntington Family Series Page 95
