by Lisa Smartt
I cleaned the bathroom. Straightened the rugs. Clipped pink and red roses from the rose bushes to make a bouquet for the table and the guest room. Probably the last ones I’d get for a while. When the house was in order, I headed to the kitchen and donned Granny’s favorite apron. “Kiss the Cook” in big black letters on red gingham. I would normally put on pajamas before doing the cooking. But I didn’t. I put on lipstick and combed my hair, hoping he’d soon make his appearance. But of course, that was naïve and it made me feel like that seventeen-year-old girl again. Sadly, even though thirteen years had passed, there wasn’t much difference between her life and mine.
I made cupcakes because I promised James and Collin I’d make white cupcakes with white icing the next time we had a potluck. I put the broccoli on to boil and stirred soup and cheese and a bunch of other stuff in a bowl. I always brought two broccoli casseroles to the funeral meal. It was only 9:30 when I heard a knock at the door and Matthew’s strong voice. “Sarah?”
“Come on in!”
Matthew and Julie walked in, all smiles, and immediately wiped their feet on the rug. Matthew spoke with enthusiasm, “You’ve got the house smelling great!”
“Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t answer the door. I’ve got soup and cheese all over my hands. Let me just get this washed off.” I pointed to the table. “Please help yourself to a cupcake. I’ve got plenty.”
Julie sighed. “Oh, I better not. But gosh, they look wonderful.”
I walked toward the table. “Not to brag, but they are wonderful. My granny’s icing recipe. The best. Bart Nelson says this icing recipe should be kept in a vault somewhere. A national treasure. Julie, let me show you to your room.”
Matthew looked around. “You have a nice place, Sarah.”
Julie’s voice grew louder. “You’ve never been here, Matthew? I thought small town folks were always at each other’s houses, having picnics and barbecues.”
I was determined not to get flustered. “Oh, we are. It’s just that some of our friends have bigger places, so we tend to congregate there.” I pushed the guest room door open. “Well, here’s your room. There are empty drawers in that white dresser, if you need them. The bed has a few uncomfortable spots, but it won’t be too bad, as long as it’s just one person.” My face turned red. “I mean, the left side here has some issues, but anyway…”
Matthew set a large suitcase near the door. Julie took off her jacket and laid it on the bed. I had a feeling her teeth weren’t the only things that had been altered. “It’s a beautiful room, Sarah. Thank you.”
“No problem. The bathroom is just right next door. Towels and wash cloths on that white shelf.” I turned to leave. “I’m gonna finish up these casseroles, but if you need anything at all, let me know. TV is in the living room. It’s a lovely night to sit on the porch. I can show you how to make hot cider, if you want.”
Julie’s face brightened as she grabbed Matthew’s arm. “Porch sitting sounds great. What about it, Matthew?”
“No, I better not. Dusty and I are going to the shop really early to do some paperwork before the funeral. So I’ll leave you ladies alone. Julie, you’ve got Chester and Ida’s number, yes?”
“I do.”
“If you need anything, call. Sarah, thanks so much for hosting. I appreciate it.”
“No problem.” I walked into the kitchen, but could still hear the faint sounds of their light-hearted chatter. I poured the casserole mixture into two pans and covered them both with foil. I heard the bathroom door close. As I was putting the pans into the refrigerator, Matthew walked to the dining room table and peeled the paper off a cupcake. “These look great and I’m not one bit worried about my waistline.” He put almost half of it in his mouth at one time.
I closed the refrigerator door. “I’m warning you. Those are addictive.”
He looked at me and mumbled. “No doubt.”
I walked toward the table but stopped before I got too close. “Would you like some milk? Water? Sweet tea?”
“Water. Thanks.”
I put some ice in a glass and ran the faucet for a while. “It’s just tap water, y’know. I don’t believe in all that bottled water nonsense.”
“Yeah. I remember you saying that once on the way home from Carlie’s.” I could hear his boots shuffling across the kitchen floor and it made me nervous.
I kept letting the water run until he was directly behind me. I filled the glass and turned. I was standing only a few inches from his chest. My face was warm and I felt dizzy. Dizzy and happy and sad all at the same time. I set the glass on the counter and glanced at the floor.
He spoke in almost a whisper. “Sarah?”
I still didn’t make eye contact. “Yes?”
“Tonight, at the funeral home, when you…”
I finally looked up. “Kissed you?”
“Yeah. That had me confused a bit because last night, after Mr. Garrett left, it seemed like you had…regrets or something.”
“No. I’m sorry. I was just confused. But no…I don’t have regrets. At all.”
His whole face relaxed. “Good. I don’t either.”
“But now?” I pointed toward the hallway and spoke even softer. “Do you have regrets now that Julie is here? ‘Cause if you do, it’s fine. I understand. Really.”
He gently grabbed both my arms and pulled me toward his chest. He laid his head on top of mine and whispered, “What? No. Sarah, Julie’s not my girlfriend. She never has been.”
I pulled my face back. “But she wants to be.”
“And how would you know that? You just met her tonight.”
“Remember when you told me Jerry Conner still liked me?”
“Yes. And obviously, I was right about that.”
“You said, ‘It’s the way he looks at you, Sarah.’ Well, that’s the way Julie looks at you, Matthew. You may not see it, but I do.”
The bathroom door opened and Julie, with freshened hair and lips, approached the kitchen. “What a quaint little bathroom! And you’ve had all those antique fixtures installed. Where in the world did you find them?”
“My grandparents found them. Probably about fifty years ago. They’re original to the house. But I’m glad to know they’re quaint. I always just thought they were really old.”
“Oh, no. They’re precious.”
Matthew patted me on the back. “I best be gettin’ on to the house now.”
Julie clapped and cheered. “Look at you, Matthew! All country talk and everything! ‘I best be gettin’ on to the house now.’ It’s downright adorable!”
I smiled and winked at Matthew. “Oh, Julie, you think that’s quaint? I don’t even drink bottled water. Nope! Straight out of the tap. I’m a serious rural risk taker.”
She moved toward Matthew and placed both arms around his neck. “You guys are just too much! So, was my visit a good surprise? Yes or no.”
He carefully removed her arms. “Yes. You’re definitely a woman who needs to learn how to drink tap water and make cupcakes. So, yes. This will be a life-changing visit, Julie.”
“Oh, Matthew. You always were such a kidder. So tell me more about this older couple, Chester and Ida. They were your landlords, right?”
Matthew shook his head and frowned a bit. “No. They weren’t my landlords. I lived with them. In their own home. Ate meals with them. Mrs. Ida, she cooked. She even got up early and made sausage and pancakes before I left for work. She’d pack leftovers and homegrown tomatoes for my lunch. I sat in the living room with them nearly every night. Worked in the yard with both of them. We went to church together. No. They weren’t my landlords.” Matthew paused then smiled. “They were my family.”
Julie used his sadness as another opportunity for a big hug. “Oh, Matthew, I’m sorry. I had no idea. That you were so close, I mean. No wonder their deaths were such a terrible blow.”
“I wish you could have known them. They were the most genuine people. No pretense. No games. Brutally honest sometimes. B
ut still.” Matthew started laughing. “When I first arrived, like on the very first day, Mrs. Ida said, ‘Now Matthew, we ain’t hidden away any of our valuables ‘cause we figure you’re looking for a fresh start and you got no use for troublin’ two old people like us. Plus, people ‘round here get pretty protective of each other. And if you was to harm us, well, let’s just say ain’t no neighbors gonna bother with callin’ 911. No, sir.”
Julie slapped Matthew on the chest. “What a character! Sarah, did you know them well?”
“Yes. All my life. And that story? I can totally hear Mrs. Ida saying it. Every word. They were something else alright. Both of them. They’ll be greatly missed. By all of us.”
Matthew opened the door. “They will be missed.” He turned back and his eyes met mine. “Good night, all.”
I smiled. “Good night, Matthew.”
Julie stretched out her arms like she was leading an exercise class. “Whew! It’s been a long day. Thanks for everything, Sarah.” She headed toward the bedroom. “I’m gonna take a nice long bath.”
“Just make yourself at home!”
As the guest room door closed, I heard a light knock at the front door. I couldn’t help but smile as I opened the door slightly and whispered, “If you’re selling cookies, I’ll take two boxes of Thin Mints. And three boxes of Samoas. And those little peanut butter thingamajigs too.”
Matthew pushed the door open gently and looked around as though he were preparing to pull a prank. He smiled and reached for my arm. “I’ll try to remember that.” His voice got quieter. “Can you come out here for a minute?”
“Sure.” I grabbed a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around my shoulders as I tiptoed out onto the porch. “Yes?”
“I just wanted to see you for a minute. Alone.” He bit his lip and hesitated. “Look, if I did anything tonight, anything to make you feel sad or…or less than, I’m sorry, Sarah. I meant what I said last night. I like you. Julie’s visit hasn’t changed anything. And I’m not going to be spending any more time alone with her. I want you to know that. And if you’re right, what you said about her intentions, well, I’m going to make it clear she might as well go back to California.”
I leaned into his chest. “Thank you.”
“But what you did at the funeral home tonight?” He smiled and shook his head. “That was a pretty bold statement to the folks around here. Just don’t be surprised if you receive a little push back.” He paused. “And it may be from the people you’d least expect.”
“Meaning what?”
He leaned against the porch post. “Tolerance is one thing. Acceptance is another. Let’s take your mother, for example. She’s a nice lady. Respected here in Sharon. But I’m guessing she’s not thrilled with the idea of you and me.”
“Mama’s just embarrassed by the whole Jerry Conner thing and the fact that everybody was talking about it. Had Jerry not done what he did, most folks in town wouldn’t have known or cared what we were doing on the porch.”
He shook his head. “I want to believe that.”
“But?”
“But I know how things are. Whatever Mr. Garrett told you last night that got you so scared, that made you not even want to touch me…there’s probably some truth to it. Maybe even a lot of truth. I don’t sleep well at night. I still jump when I hear loud noises. There are things that happened.” He shook his head. “Things I can’t talk about. With anyone.” He walked toward the steps and looked up at the moon. “Think about what Aunt Charlotte was saying the other night. How proud your mother would be about you dating Dr. Carter.” He looked at me and sighed. “Do you think she’d be equally proud to tell the people around here that you’re dating me? You think she’d go around saying, ‘Did you hear the news? Sarah’s dating that guy who was in prison for fourteen years. He’s not even allowed to drive a car. I couldn’t be happier.’”
I reached for his hand. “I don’t know what she’d say really. I haven’t asked. But I know what Dusty says. And Chester and Ida, I know what they said. I know what Doug and Carlie think about you. Dave and Ashley. And Brother Dan.”
His eyes met mine. “And that’s enough?”
“It is.”
He placed his hands gently behind my head. Even in the moonlight, I could see his beautiful dark brown eyes shining. “Thank you, Sarah. Thank you.” He moved forward and kissed me like no man had ever kissed me. Gentle. Soft. Passionate but not aggressive. I thought sure I would faint. He pulled his face away. I used my finger to wipe the lipstick smudges from his mouth. He kissed my hand and whispered, “You are beautiful. In every way. Don’t ever doubt that. I better go before we get busted out here.” He walked down the steps but turned back briefly. “We seem to get in a lot of trouble on porches.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
He quickly walked back up the steps. “Actually, Sarah, there’s something I haven’t told you. Something I want to tell you.”
“Oh no. You’re an angel who came down to earth just to teach me some kind of moral lesson about pain and disappointment. This is all just a dream. I had a feeling you were too good to be true.”
He laughed. “Hey, I may be a lot of things, but an angel isn’t one of them.”
“Then go ahead. Bare your soul.”
“A few weeks after we met, I knew I liked you. A lot. But I’d been in prison since I was a 21-year-old kid so I didn’t know how to pursue you. Not really. So, one night, over dinner, I just said to Chester and Ida, ‘How should I go about telling Sarah how I feel about her?’”
“And?”
“Chester looked me square in the eyes, and said, ‘Matthew, I have no idea.’”
“Ha ha ha. That’s Chester.”
“And then he said something I’ll never forget. He reached for Mrs. Ida’s hand, and said, ‘Truth is, I can’t even remember a time when I didn’t love her. Guess I’ve loved her all my life.’”
“Wow.”
He leaned against the post and looked down. “And I envied him, Sarah. I envied Chester Miller. Every day. He never had to go through the process of cleaning up messes from the past, never had to explain away a bunch of mistakes.” He hesitated and looked right at me. “Never had to try to convince a woman he was trustworthy. Mrs. Ida knew she could trust him, even in eighth grade.”
“I’m sure Chester made his share of mistakes.”
Matthew looked up at the night sky and shook his head. “Maybe so. But to me? His life was pretty close to perfect.”
“Or maybe Ida was just a really good forgiver.”
He smiled. “Probably so. And tomorrow we honor that.”
“Yes, tomorrow. And don’t worry. I’ll be there. With you. And I don’t care who knows it either. Oh, and Matthew, one more thing before you go.”
He moved close to me and I laid my head on his chest. He whispered, “Yes?”
“If things don’t work out between us, I’m convinced Charlotte Nelson has a terrible crush on you. Face the facts. You’re the whole reason she’s trying to lose weight. Bart seems worried. He does.”
He laughed as he wrapped his arms around me tighter. “Tempting as it would be to date a woman who literally holds the magic secret to pickle-making in her hands, I’m already taken.” He began to kiss me again. My heart was beating faster. Like a dream. The kind of dream where you pray the alarm clock never goes off.
The front door opened without warning. I jumped and Matthew pulled away, almost tripping over the porch rug.
Julie was wearing a long, black, silk robe and showing way too much cleavage for Sharon, Tennessee. Her face bore one second of disappointment but then she covered it like a pro. “Well, well, well.” She smiled and pointed her finger like she was almost congratulating us. “Looks like you two are up to somethin’! And to think, I almost bought that whole scam about how Matthew had never been inside your house. Tsk, tsk, tsk. I thought church-goers weren’t supposed to lie.”
Matthew was always so articulate and well-spoken. But he
stuttered as he backed away. “I hadn’t. I mean, I didn’t. Not that anyway. No. Not ever.”
“Wow, Matthew. Sounds like you’ve been drinking. Sarah must be more intoxicating than we know. That whole Betty Crocker deal is just a cover, huh? A cover for what’s really cookin’.”
I knew what it felt like to be her. I’d been there. Many times. I made a conscious effort to be kind. Maybe even ease the pain a little. “Busted. The word is out now.” I pointed to Matthew and then to myself. “Truth is, we met on a prison dating site. I lured him to Sharon with the promise of cupcakes and small town charm. And he bought it. Hook, line, and sinker. He bought it.”
Matthew started laughing. He didn’t even look Julie’s direction, which I appreciated more than he could ever know. He stared straight at me as he moved in close. “Yeah, I’m all about the cupcakes.” He kissed me on the cheek and then stepped off the porch, never looking back. “Good night, ladies. See you tomorrow.”
Chapter 41, CARLIE: The Little Black Dress
There’s an order to funeral day in a small town. Steps really. Step #1. Make food. Lots of food. Step #2. Take the food to the church basement or fellowship hall for the after-funeral meal. Step #3. Go to the funeral. (Some people look at the deceased and say, ‘He looks good, don’t he? So good.’ I never do that because, first of all, it’s grammatically incorrect and secondly, well, just because, and I’ll leave it at that). Step #4. Go to the cemetery. On the way to the cemetery, try to explain to little kids a concept which will be very hard for them to understand. Just because we’re outside doesn’t mean we can run or make loud noises. We can’t run or make loud noises at the cemetery because it’s disrespectful. If you have a smart kid, he or she will say, “Mama, why? Will it wake up all the dead people?” Then a smart parent will say, “No, but it might make the old people who are still alive want to hit you with a cane. So it’s a dangerous risk, at best.” Step #5. Go to the funeral meal in the church basement or fellowship hall. Step #6. Try to convince the bereaved to eat because they’ll need their strength. This is kind of an odd thing to do because most people know bodily strength is not usually found in buttery casseroles and high carbohydrate desserts.
