by Peggy Webb
Ellen took a leisurely bath and dressed with care. By the time she got downstairs, she looked as serene as sunshine on a summer day. "Good morning, Aunt Lollie." She kissed her aunt's plump cheek.
"Good morning, dear." Aunt Lollie turned from the chocolate pound cake she was making. If her forced cheerful tone hadn't alerted Ellen that something was amiss, the sight of her flour- spattered apron would have. Aunt Lollie never spilled a drop of flour when she cooked unless she was disturbed about something. "I kept your pancakes warm."
"Thanks, Aunt Lollie." Ellen went straight to the old-fashioned stove. She had once offered to buy her aunt a microwave open, but Lollie had refused on the grounds that microwaves turned out rubber food and were dangerous to boot. The oven door felt warm to Ellen's touch, and there were enough pancakes inside to feed a camp of loggers. She forked two of them onto a plate and sat down at the kitchen table.
Aunt Lollie left the cake batter half mixed and joined her. Ellen put down the maple syrup she had been pouring over her pancakes and studied her aunt's face. When Aunt Lollie left her cooking, something serious was afoot. A cold fear gripped Ellen as she remembered how thin her uncle was.
"Has something happened to Uncle Vester?"
"Vester?" Aunt Lollie laughed. "Don't you worry about your uncle." She patted Ellen's hand. "That darlin' old poop will still be around when I'm turning up daisies." She tried to draw her mouth into a severe line, but it didn't work. Aunt Lollie's mouth was made for laughter. "If he can stay out all night playing cards at Huck Henry's barn, he’ll last long enough to dandle your babies upon his knee."
The pancake turned to sawdust in her mouth as Ellen thought of all the babies she wouldn't have. She washed the offending food down with milk. What did she need with babies? She had Gigi.
"That's a relief." She sought to turn the conversation away from her fantasy babies. "Will Emmaline and her family be joining me for breakfast? You have enough pancakes in the oven to feed an army."
"Those are for Dirk." The way Aunt Lollie said it, without preface and with a curious flatness, made Ellen glance up.
"He hasn't eaten yet?"
Aunt Lollie looked crestfallen. "Child, child," she consoled as she again patted Ellen's hand.
"Aunt Lollie, what's wrong?" Now Ellen was alarmed. Had something happened to Dirk? Last night she had left him with that ornery old mule. There was no telling where Annie had carried him.
"You don't know?"
"Know what, Aunt Lollie?"
"It's not my place to say anything." She avoided Ellen's eyes by rearranging the bib of her apron. "What goes on between two lovers is no business of mine. None a'tall." She looked back up at Ellen. "Eat your pancakes, dear. They're getting cold."
"I'm not going to eat a bite until you tell me what's going on."
"You've got that Stanford stubborn streak, just like your daddy." Aunt Lollie sighed heavily. "I guess a man has to sow a few wild oats before he settles down."
"Are you talking about Dirk or Uncle Vester?"
"They're all the same. Vester never could get it all out of his system, and when he told me about Dirk, playing pool for money—well, my heart just went out to you."
Ellen went limp with relief. Stifling her laughter, she ate her cold pancakes with renewed zest. "What has that scalawag been up to?"
"I think you have a right to know." Aunt Lollie took a deep breath and plunged into the sordid story. "Vester told me he was going to Huck Henry's barn last night after everybody went to bed. He always tells me. What can you expect from a man like that? He's still as lively as a grasshopper in the spring. He was wound up tight as a drum after the reunion dinner. Needed to get away. I understand, of course. Always have. It's just that sometimes these things can be so trying on a woman."
Ellen listened patiently while Aunt Lollie justified Uncle Vester's actions. Aunt Lollie always did that. Even though she considered Huck Henry's barn to be a hotbed of sin, she always found a reason to exempt her beloved Vester from any wrongdoing. For Aunt Lollie, Ellen knew that love was indeed blind. It was also very beautiful with those two.
"Well, of course," Aunt Lollie went on, "when your Dirk showed up, Vester was as surprised as he could be. Him not even wearing the yoke yet, as my sainted mama used to say, and here he is at Huck Henry's barn. Vester was so surprised he upped his bid a dollar and him holding nothing but a pair of fours."
"Who told Dirk about Huck Henry's games?"
"You'd best ask your uncle that. I never discussed a thing with Dirk except whales and babies."
Ellen hid her smile behind another bite of cold pancake. When it came time to inform the relatives that she wasn't marrying Dirk, perhaps she could soften the blow by telling them that she was taking up whale watching. "Tell me more about the games. Aunt Lollie. Who won?"
Aunt Lollie shook her head. "I do declare, Ellen. If you don't sound just like a Stanford! Gambling's in the blood, I reckon." She rearranged her apron once more. "Dirk did. Vester said he'd never seen anything as slick in all his life. First, that man of yours took the entire pot at pool and then he cleaned everybody out in the poker game. He must have won close to twenty dollars."
Knowing how serious Aunt Lollie was about this business at Huck Heniy's barn, Ellen decided that she should play her part of the aggrieved finacee to the hilt. "If he had to gamble, at least he didn't lose."
"I'm glad to see you taking it so well."
"I guess it's because I'm crazy about him and can't help myself, Aunt Lollie." She crossed her fingers behind her back.
"Love does overlook these little things. Not that I'm saying staying out all night and playing poker for money is a little thing, mind you. It can try the patience of a woman," Aunt Lollie said.
"It looks like I'm destined to be one of the martyred Stanford women, Aunt Lollie. But I plan to suffer in silence. Dirk's worth suffering for." She had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing.
"I'm delighted to hear you say that, love." Dirk's deep voice startled them both. The two women turned to see him lounging in the doorway. He looked as if he had just been dragged up from the pits of hell. Dark shadows circled his bloodshot eyes, and a night's growth of beard bristled on his cheeks.
"How long have you been standing there?" Ellen asked. He looked so weary, she felt almost guilty for having slept like a lamb.
"Long enough to know that you're crazy about me and can't help yourself." He crossed the room with maddening slowness and leaned over the back of her chair. "Is all forgiven, darling?"
With him standing so near, Ellen's bones turned to melted wax. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of Aunt Lollie's beaming face. Play the game, she told herself. It's almost over. She lifted her hand to pat Dirk's cheek. "Of course ..."
She never got to finish the rest of her sentence. Dirk captured her hand and lifted her out of the chair. Pulling her against his chest, he said hoarsely, "This is the best part. Kissing and making up."
Ellen thought he should win an Academy Award for the kiss. As his lips devoured hers, even she was almost convinced that it was real, that they were two people, crazy in love, making up after a dreadful misunderstanding. She tried to hold back, to play a convincing role without involving her feelings, but it was no use. His compelling power drained her will and sapped her strength. She found herself melting against him, responding to his demanding kiss with an abandon that would have shocked her if she had been sitting in Aunt Lollie’s chair watching.
When the kitchen walls began to fade and the fireworks he had set off in her body threatened an explosion that would rock Lawrence County, Dirk pulled slowly away. "I'm beginning to get addicted to this," he whispered as his lips brushed her ear.
"You can ring down the curtain now, Dirk. The play is over." She spoke quietly so that Aunt Lollie wouldn't hear. She turned back to her aunt and noticed the look on her face. It was an expression of pure joy. Ellen decided that it made the deception worthwhile.
"Now, isn't th
at sweet," Aunt Lollie said. "Kissing beats ham and eggs for fixing things."
Ellen wasn't so sure about that. As much as she despised ham and eggs, she thought they would be considerably less dangerous than kissing.
Dirk chuckled. "I like the way you think, Aunt Lollie."
She rose from her chair and seemed to notice her apron for the first time. "Will you just look at me? I look like I've been dumped into the flour barrel. Will you children excuse me while I tidy up?" She patted Dirk's cheek. "As long as you love our Ellen,
that's all that matters. Your breakfast is in the oven, dear. I’ll be back as soon as I change my apron." With that she left the kitchen.
"That's a good-hearted, simple woman," Dirk said. "On the other hand"—he reached out and circled Ellen's waist—"you, my darling, are complex."
She couldn't bear his touch. It brought back vivid memories of last night beside the creek. It made her forget that their love was fantasy. She removed his hand as she turned the subject away from herself.
"And you need a shave before we say good-bye to all the relatives."
"You disappoint me, love."
She knew she should let the remark pass, but she couldn't. "In what way?"
"Didn't you miss me last night?" The way he asked it, with a little-boy appeal in his voice, made her want to take him into her arms and smooth his tousled hair.
"No," she said. "I slept like a log."
"On the featherbed?"
"Yes."
"Aren't you curious about how you got there?"
"I don't want to know."
"I put you there. I picked you up and held you in my arms—"
“I don't want to hear any more."
"I looked at your beautiful body in the moonlight-"
"Please, Dirk."
"—and I wrestled with my conscience. You see, I've also discovered that I have a conscience."
"I'm sure you 11 get over it," she said dryly.
She didn't want to hear these things. Last night she had come too close to going off the deep end with him. She had come too close to forgetting what her life was all about. It was about language research with Gigi and a mountaintop compound. It was about long hours dedicated to science and sometimes a bone-weariness that sought nothing more than an empty bed. It was not about black-eyed men who hid an endearing vulnerability underneath a tough-guy facade.
"Your breakfast is waiting," she said. "We leave in an hour." She whirled around and left the kitchen before she could change her mind. She was afraid of what she might say if she stayed.
o0o
Aunt Lollie and Uncle Vester were standing on the porch, arm in arm, as they watched Dirk and Ellen load the car.
"Don't drive like a hellion going home," Uncle Vester called to his niece.
"And don't forget to write," Aunt Lollie added.
Ellen turned to smile at them. "I won't."
"And bring that man of yours back real soon," Uncle Vester said. "I want him to teach me a few card tricks."
Aunt Lollie glanced coyly at her husband. "I want him to teach you how to kiss."
Uncle Vester roared with laughter. "Lordy mercy, woman. You’ll be the death of me yet."
"Humph. I never knew a soul that died of too much lovin'," Aunt Lollie said.
Ellen and Dirk had returned to the porch in time to hear the exchange between the two old lovebirds. Dirk winked at Uncle Vester and hugged Aunt Lollie. "I never did either," he said. "Goodbye, Aunt Lollie."
She squeezed him to her ample bosom. "Just for a little while, son. We’ll be at your wedding with bells on. You take care of our Ellen, now. You hear?"
Ellen thought that Dirk had a funny expression on his face when he released Aunt Lollie. He was probably glad that the charade was finally over. She supposed that he could hardly wait to get back to the mountains and forget the whole thing. She blushed at the way she had practically thrown herself into his arms last night. She would be happy to put this whole thing behind her too.
She kissed her aunt and uncle good-bye, promised to write, promised not to drive too fast—but kept her fingers crossed behind her back—and promised Aunt Lollie to try to cultivate a taste for eggs.
o0o
At last they were in the car, winding through the lane of oaks and kicking up dust as they headed home. Yes, indeed, she was happy it was all over, Ellen told herself. Then why did her heart feel lonesome? She kept her eyes on the road and tried not to think about that.
Dirk was strangely silent. She was afraid to look at him. She was afraid those black eyes would see right through her. She swore under her breath as a cow ambled across the road. Her tires squealed as she skidded to the side of the road and stopped.
"You don't keep promises very well, do you?" Dirk said. His dark eyes were crinkled at the corners with amusement.
"Some promises weren't meant to be kept. Go back to sleep or whatever you were doing." She took a deep breath and pulled back onto the road.
"Do you want me to drive?"
"Are you afraid of my driving?"
"No. I've always thought a few concussions livened up a trip."
"So have I."
He chuckled. "That just goes to show you."
"To show what?"
"How much we have in common."
"We have nothing in common except a penchant for lying. I've told so many untruths at this reunion that my conscience will hurt for a month."
"But it was all for a good cause."
"That's what I keep telling myself."
She made a left turn onto Uncle Mac's farm. After picking up Ruth Ann and Gigi and saying good-bye to Uncle Mac's family, the travelers began the long journey home.
o0o
For the most part it was a somber journey, the ending of an interval of make-believe. Only Gigi was in high spirits. Occasionally she cheered everyone up by insisting on singing a song that she had learned. It was a lively and rousing song with bawdy lyrics.
"Who taught her that?" Ellen asked, laughing, as Gigi sang with gorilla grunts and sign language.
"Those dreadful Wilcox twins," Ruth Ann said. Ellen thought that if her nose were pinched in any more she wouldn't be able to breathe.
"What's she saying?" Dirk asked.
"You don't want to know," Ruth Ann said.
"I’ll tell you sometime if I ever get up the courage," Ellen told him.
o0o
By the time they reached Ellen's cabin, the setting sun had turned Beech Mountain into a rose- colored picture postcard. Ruth Ann went inside to prepare Gigi's evening meal while Dirk and Ellen unloaded the car. Gigi picked a bouquet of golden- rod beside the road.
Ellen deposited her bag on the porch and watched as Dirk loaded his gear into Rocinante .The charade was over. Time to get back to reality. She reached for her billfold as he returned to the porch to say good-bye.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"I'm going to pay you."
"No."
"No?"
"I didn't do this because of the money. I went with you because I wanted to."
"But I hired you to do a job. You upheld your end of the deal, now I'm upholding mine." She pulled the money from her billfold and held it out to him.
His hand covered hers. "It was not just a deal with me. It was a pleasure." He removed his hand and shoved it into his jean's pocket. "Don't cheapen what we had with money."
"What did we have?" she asked softly. The money was trembling in her hand.
"For the short time that we allowed ourselves to feel, we had an interlude of romance. Thank you, Ellen."
He turned abruptly and walked toward his car.
She watched him go. For a moment his shoulders sagged, then he lifted them and walked away in a show of jauntiness.
She lifted her hand and almost called him back. The words were there, waiting to be said, but she couldn't make them come out.
As Ellen watched, Gigi shuffled up to Dirk and handed him the bouquet of goldenrod. She s
igned, Man stay. Gigi love.
Dirk lowered his head and sniffed the flowers. "These are nice," he said. "Thank you, Gigi." To Ellen's amazement he signed Thank you. She hadn't been aware that he was learning American Sign Language.
Gigi clapped her hands at Dirk's appreciation of her bouquet. Stay. Man go. Gigi sad, she signed.
Dirk solemnly took her hand, then said, “Good-bye, Gigi. Thank you for the flowers”.
Tears stung Ellen's eyes as Dirk climbed into Rocinante and headed toward Anthony's cabin. She watched until he was around the bend in the road.
Gigi lumbered up the porch steps and touched Ellen's cheek. Ellen sad? she signed.
"Yes, Gigi. Ellen sad," she said while signing.
Gigi sad, too.
"Why?" Ellen signed.
Dirk was temporarily forgotten as she did what she loved best, her work. To her the most amazing thing about her research was that Gigi expressed emotions. Although she knew why Gigi was sad, her question was aimed at encouraging the gorilla to think abstractly.
Man go. Gigi love. Gigi sad. The gorilla pointed to her own face. Her mouth was turned down in an exaggerated expression of sorrow.
"Happy good," Ellen said as she signed. "Sad good too. Make Gigi fine animal gorilla."
Gigi fine animal gorilla? Gigi's expression of sorrow was immediately replaced with a toothy grin. She loved compliments.
"Yes," Ellen assured her.
Gigi clapped her hands. Fine animal gorilla hungry. Eat pie.
Ellen grinned at the devilish expression on Gigi's face. The gorilla knew that pie was for special occasions. She was playing on Ellen's sympathy.
"No," Ellen signed. "Gigi eat fruit. Eat vegetables. Good food."
No. Food stink. Gigi eat pie.
"Maybe," she said. "After vegetables." Ellen took her hand and led her into the house.
As Ellen watched Gigi finish her meal—she had relented about the pie—she wished that she could put Dirk from her mind as easily as Gigi. She wished pie would make her forget.
She thought about the parting and decided that Gigi had handled it with more thoughtfulness and compassion than she had. Gigi had given Dirk flowers and she had given him money. Almost, she corrected herself. She had almost ruined a relationship with thirty pieces of silver.
