At the Corner of Love and Heartache

by Curtiss Ann Matlock

  “Yes, but not the dress.”

  With all they had purchased, none of it was what they had come after.

  Marilee said, “Franny, sometimes perky doesn’t sit well.”

  “Oh, darlin’, I love you.” Franny gave her a hug, then went off to order a pita-bread sandwich.

  The three others looked at each other.

  Then Marilee, dragging herself off the chair, said, “Begin with action and the spirit will follow. Come on, y’all.”

  The three of them slumped over to join Franny in purchasing food, and quite quickly, upon eating and a bit of rest, hopeful shopping spirits soared once more.

  They split up: Corrine and Franny went to several stores on the lower level, and Charlotte and Marilee went to several on the second level.

  “Let’s focus on gettin’ you a bridesmaid dress first,” Marilee said. “I sure don’t want to go home without the main thing we came for.”

  “I’m keeping an eye out for a wedding dress, too,” Charlotte said. “What do you think about this one?”

  Marilee observed the dress, then realized what Charlotte had said. “A wedding dress, as in you and Sandy have decided to get married?”

  “Yes,” Charlotte said in a breezy manner.

  “Ohmygosh!” Marilee let out a whoop, and several ladies gave her an eye. “This is wonderful, Charlotte.”

  “So while we’re at it,” Charlotte said, “you’d better get a bridesmaid dress for my wedding. Something in blue. That’s going to be my theme color.”

  Marilee hauled off and hugged the taller woman, an action that somewhat surprised her and definitely surprised Charlotte. Self-conscious, Marilee went to draw back, but then Charlotte gave her a quick hug in return.

  “We shouldn’t have waited so long,” Marilee said, the words popping from her mouth as tears blurred her vision.

  Charlotte cast her a quizzical look.

  “To be friends,” Marilee said. “I’m so glad for being friends.”

  “Me, too.” A smile quivered on Charlotte’s lips, and then she quickly averted her eyes, taking dresses off the rack and slinging them over her arm. “It would have been nice if you were a little taller, though, so we could share clothes.”

  Marilee burst out laughing.

  On the drive home, Marilee’s thoughts turned to Stuart. Maybe there would be a message waiting at home from him. She started to use the cell phone to call and ask Tate, then decided doing that would not make her get home any sooner.

  The streetlights had come on when Marilee pulled the Cherokee into her own driveway, having dropped Charlotte at her house first. She turned off the key, then looked around into the back seat to see Franny and Corrine leaning together, asleep. She gazed at them for long seconds.

  Now, she thought, relief falling over her, Corrine will have another woman to help her along, to teach her things. Franny could teach Corrine so much that Marilee herself did not know.

  Thank you, God…for today, for Franny, for my dear friend Charlotte.

  And then here came Tate, stepping off the porch. On sight of him, her heart jumped, and she slipped out of the Cherokee and raced through the cool, moist night to fling herself into his arms.

  His response was to lift her clear off the ground. “Ah, woman, home from the hunt.”

  “Oh, Tate.” She hugged him fiercely and then kissed him, and all the while her heart was singing, Oh, Tate…thank God for you…for all of the beloved people in my life.

  He set her down. “I take it you had fun and success in bagging the proper new outfits and baubles for the occasions ahead.”

  Only Tate would talk in such a grand manner!

  “Yes, we had a delightful time. So much so that you might need to carry your mother into the house.”

  His eyes went wide, and then he bent to peer into the back seat. “Let’s wait and see if she wakes up,” he said, as if he had taken her words quite literally.

  “Has there been any news?” she asked then.

  He looked confused.

  “About Stuart?” His expression had already told her what she needed to know, and her spirit dipped as he shook his head.

  “We will find him, Marilee. It’s only been a few days. He’s gonna turn up any minute.”

  She nodded and moved to the rear of the Cheroekee. He followed and helped her to unload, trooping behind her like a bellman lugging packages into the house. Her heart warmed to step into the cheery glow of home, where Willie Lee was already put to bed and coffee awaited in the kitchen.

  She dropped her bags and turned to throw her arms around Tate again and to kiss him passionately.

  “Hey, let’s go out and come back in again,” he said, continuing to hold her tightly.

  The telephone rang, and Marilee moved quickly from his embrace to answer, her thoughts running straight to Stuart.

  Tate put a hand on her arm. “Your sister called about an hour ago. She was pretty drunk.”

  Marilee looked at the telephone, ringing a second time. She went to her desk in the living room and checked the caller ID. “It’s Mother.” She lifted the receiver; it felt very heavy.

  “Marilee?”

  Her mother spoke in a sharp tone. Marilee instantly wished she had not answered. “Yes, Mother?” She met Tate’s gaze, finding strength there. He moved to massage her shoulders.

  “Anita just called here. She is all upset. She says you are taking Corrine from her, that you and Tate are going to adopt her away from Anita.”

  Marilee breathed deeply. “Yes, I have approached Anita with the idea. We need to take care of Corrine, Mom. We need to get her some health insurance and to make certain to safeguard her future. She needs to be provided for, and Anita can’t do that.”

  As she said the last, the front door opened, and Franny and Corrine came straggling inside.

  “Well, you have upset her no end. You are sayin’ she isn’t a fit mother. You can’t do this to her. She is out of her mind about it. There is no telling what she might do.”

  Marilee breathed deeply and moved into her bedroom for privacy. “I am not doing anything to Anita. I am trying to take care of Corrine. And Anita is out of her mind. She is an alcoholic.”

  Marilee could not believe she had said the word flat-out to her mother.

  Her mother gasped, then said, “Anita is not an alcoholic. She has a bit of a drinking problem, but she is not like your daddy.”

  Marilee had no words for this.

  “You are drivin’ her to this drinking, too,” her mother added. “You have gotten her so upset.”

  “I can’t talk to you about this now, Mother. I am tired, and I have to get Corrine to bed. And I don’t want her to hear any of this conversation. I’ll call you about this soon. Goodbye.”

  Well, she didn’t think she would get points in heaven for hanging up on her mother, but she believed she would be understood.

  She went out and plopped herself in the big armchair, where Corrine came and cuddled against her, and Tate brought a cup of coffee thick with sugar and cream for her, and a cup of hot chocolate for Corrine. Then he sat himself on the coffee table and listened to the female “shop-till-they-dropped” tales, nodding and laughing at all the right places.

  Marilee watched the way his eyes crinkled, the way he winked at Corrine, the way his sleeves were rolled up on his forearms.

  She watched Corrine, who described the wondrous shopping mall and even went to dig out the clothes she had gotten and show them to Tate, holding them up with her tired skinny little arms.

  Anita’s image swept her mind, and her chest squeezed. She never had been able to help Anita. God knew she had tried—and failed. But she could take care of this child and help her to have a good childhood. The sort of childhood she and Anita had missed.

  She got into bed and reclined there on the cool pillows for a few minutes, gazing at nothing. Finally she turned out the light and slipped down beneath the warm covers. The temperature had fallen drastically into the thirt
ies.

  Extremes of spring trying to come and winter still holding on with strong fingers, she thought.

  That was how she felt, too. She was both extremely happy and extremely sad. Tears welled in her eyes, as she thought of the wonderful day she had experienced with loved ones, and the dear, wonderful man she was to marry in a wedding for which she longed with all her heart. She thought of her mother’s distress, of her sister’s self-destruction, and of Stuart. She felt she had failed them all, and yet, what else could she have done?

  She wished she had spoken more kindly. She wished she had had answers for everyone.

  The tears ran down her cheeks, and she felt hardly able to breathe. She slipped out of bed, to her knees, folding her hands in prayer. Thank you, God, for the wonderful day we all enjoyed…for finding that perfect dress to wear on the plane…that Corrine was so happy with the things she bought…that Charlotte is saying yes to love. Thank you for Tate.

  Precious gratitude washed over her, like a healing potion.

  Help me to give whatever I can to Tate, my gift of a partner that you have given me. Look after my mother…and my dear sister, Anita…and Stuart, wherever he is. I give them to You. I know I can’t handle all their needs. Thank you for watching over all of us.

  She climbed back into bed and cuddled beneath the comforter. The next instant she was startled by a plop on her bed.

  Oh, it was Munro. He came up and pressed close to her side.

  “How did you know?” she whispered, putting out a hand to pet his fur. She had become accustomed to Munro appearing at certain key times.

  “Thank you, Munro.” Curling around him, she drifted off to sleep.

  Tate was enjoying a Sunday afternoon siesta on his porch when the call came from his detective friend. Stuart James had been located. “In the hospital. Police brought him in. He’d collapsed at a gas station Thursday night. Word is that he’s due to be released tomorrow morning.”

  “They found Stuart?” asked his mother, who had appeared in the doorway.

  “Yes.” Tate got to his feet, then stood there a moment, gathering his breath in preparation for telling Marilee. He didn’t quite understand the great reluctance that came over him.

  “You don’t have to tell her,” his mother said, watching him closely.

  That had occurred to him. What if he didn’t tell Marilee where Stuart was? There was a big chance this would mean no more Stuart James in their lives. Problem gone.

  “Yes, I do,” he said.

  “Yes, you do,” his mother agreed with a gentle smile. “But let her decide for herself what she wants to do.”

  He knew that, he thought impatiently, as he went down the porch steps and across the backyards and through Marilee’s back door, calling out her name.

  “Just a minute!” came her answer, in a curiously panicked tone.

  Corrine appeared, barring the swinging door. “You can’t come in here. Aunt Marilee is in her weddin’ dress…. She’s havin’ alterations.”

  Here was a perfect excuse to just turn around and walk back home. Perhaps during a delay in telling her, James would disappear again.

  He went to the refrigerator and drew out a pitcher of cold tea, pouring himself a glass, keeping his back to the swinging door and thinking of walking out the back door.

  A minute later he heard the swinging door open. He slowly turned to see Marilee tying her robe around her. She asked the instant their eyes met, “Has Stuart been found?”

  He felt a flash of anger at the dying man.

  “He’s in a hospital down in Wichita Falls.” And he had better really be dying, or Tate might kill him.

  Twenty-Four

  Getting through to new beginnings…

  At the last minute, before heading out the door with Tate, it occurred to Marilee that she had to explain to the children about Stuart. She sat with them on the porch, on the top step.

  “I have to tell you two something about Willie Lee’s father.”

  Two pairs of eyes regarded her. Corrine’s dark eyes were wary; Willie Lee’s were soft and wide. Give me the right words, Lord.

  Willie Lee said, “My father is sick.”

  Marilee, more relieved than surprised, nodded. “Yes, he is. And he needs somewhere to stay where he isn’t alone…where people can take care of him, so Tate and I are going to go get him and bring him here to stay with us.

  “Well, with you and Tate,” she said, her gaze moving from Willie Lee to Corrine. “Corrine and I are going to move over to Papa Tate’s house, and he will move over here, with Willie Lee and his daddy. That way your daddy can have my room.”

  The two pairs of eyes blinked.

  “This house will be for the guys.” With the thought of leaving Willie Lee at night, she reached over to touch him. “And Papa Tate’s house will be for the girls. Just until the wedding. After that we’ll all live together over at Mr….Papa Tate’s house, and Stuart can have this house, so we can still be nearby to take care of him.”

  That about covered it, as much as she felt she needed to cover it. If the children had questions, they kept them to themselves, and Marilee wasn’t going to encourage the asking. She left them with instructions to go inside and help Aunt Vella and Franny get things ready.

  Tate drove, and as he backed out of the driveway, Marilee said, “I don’t know how I will leave Willie Lee at night.”

  Tate said, “I’ll be with him, Marilee. I promise.”

  “I know…. I trust that, or I’d never do this.”

  “I forgot to tell Franny where the sheets for my bed are kept.” It was the third thing to pop into her mind that she had forgotten.

  “Corrine will show her.”

  “I don’t know if Corrine knows. And my mattress requires those deep pocket sheets.”

  “Corrine knows everything, and besides, your house isn’t that big. I’m sure they’ll find them.”

  She nodded, blinking back sudden tears. “I love your mother, Tate.” She was overwhelmed at the situation, and her heart seemed raw with feelings rushing through it at incredible speeds. “What would we have done had she not come up?” She was still amazed at how things seem to fit; Franny had hospice training and experience, and Stuart needed someone to take care of him.

  Tate reached over and took her hand. “All this is right up Mom’s alley. And she was planning on stayin’ anyway…. I forgot to tell you. She told me she was movin’ in with Winston.”

  Marilee took that in, and guilt fell over her. “Oh, I’m sorry we have waylaid her plans.”

  “Postponed. She doesn’t mind. She just wants to be up here with us now.” He rubbed her hand with his thumb, as if trying to impart strength.

  “Well, I’m sure glad of that. She’s so good for Corrine…good for all of us.”

  They had reached the outskirts of Wichita Falls. She took up the paper with the sketched directions to the hospital that she’d gotten when she had called to make certain a Stuart James was still a patient there.

  “Marilee…you know that Stuart may not fall in with the idea of comin’ back with us. Just because you’ve decided this, doesn’t mean that he will.”

  “I know.”

  She squeezed Tate’s hand and imagined him in Corrine’s narrow bed. He had assured her it would be fine, although he would appreciate just blankets and not the floral bedspread.

  The floor station was busy. Finally a nurse responded to their inquiry. “Yes, let’s see…Mr. Stuart James…he’s to be released in the morning.” She pointed down the hall. “Third door on the right. It’s a double room, but he’s in there alone.”

  Marilee looked at Tate.

  “I’ll wait there,” he said, indicating a nearby alcove with chairs and a sofa.

  They kissed quickly, and she turned and left him, walking along the hallway alone, experiencing the rising urge to tiptoe. The door to Stuart’s room was ajar. Was it the right one? Mistakes were made in hospitals. Yes, there was his name in one of the two slots beside
the door. The other slot was empty.

  The door was ajar, and there came the sound of the television. She peered inside through the narrow opening. The first bed was unoccupied, and the dividing curtain hid most of the bed on the far side next to the window.

  All she could see was feet beneath the white covers. She stared at them. She could not ever recall Stuart lying in bed; he had always gotten up first thing upon opening his eyes and never gotten back in bed until he was ready for sleep at night.

  She hoped she didn’t give him a heart attack, appearing like this.

  Knocking lightly, she went in. His eyes popped wide when he saw her. Words escaped her. She went to him and flung her arms around him.

  He shook his head as she talked. “I don’t need your pity.”

  “Oh, yes, you do,” she said, startling him. “Stuart, don’t be a martyr. Do what is good for all of us…for Willie Lee, for me—and for yourself.”

  He looked at her. “Let me get dressed. I can’t discuss this wearing a hospital gown.”

  When she did not move from the side of the bed, he motioned with his hand, as if sweeping her off. She was heartened to see that he appeared stronger than when she had first laid eyes on him.

  She got up, went to the edge of the curtain and stood with her back turned, continuing to explain the perfection of the plan, speaking all the while she heard drawers opened and closed, and throughout her assistance in getting his shirt and slacks from the closet on the wall.

  Stuart’s discharge from the hospital was obtained that very afternoon. The nurse appeared quite relieved that the patient had a family to go to, and that the hospital would not be responsible for letting him go driving off by himself.

  Marilee, feeling her job for the moment was done upon getting him to go along with them, encouraged him into the front seat and left him and Tate to each other. Men, being men, they talked immediately of sports and vehicles and the journalism they both so loved, leaving Marilee to relax in the back seat, where she observed the two males. Both were in a hard place and handling it amazingly well.

  Whatever lay ahead, they would all get through. You always have gotten through, haven’t you? she heard in a whisper from the recesses of her brain.