“Daddy, I’m not a little girl anymore. You can’t tell me who to see,” she snapped, and marched inside the house.
“Muriel!”
Ignoring the frustration in his voice, she kept moving. Once again, her bedroom door slammed, but this time nobody came to talk to her. Which was fine. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. She fell on her bed and indulged in a good cry. This was all wrong. She’d never fought like this with her father before—but then her father had never been so mean-spirited before.
The next morning she entered the kitchen and found him at the red Formica table, nursing a cup of coffee. “You still mad at me?” he asked.
“Yes.” She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of eggs. “Do you want an egg?”
“Sure,” he said, trying to sound amiable.
She fried him one and made toast, then put bread in the toaster for Mother, who was strictly a toast-and-coffee girl.
By the time Mother entered the kitchen, Muriel and her father were both seated at the table, eating in silence. “Well, we have a lovely day for a picnic, don’t we?” she said.
“I’m not going.” The last thing Muriel wanted was to spend the day pretending she wasn’t mad at her father.
“Of course you are,” Mother said in typical mother fashion. “We picnic with the Greens every year. Think how disappointed Olivia would be if you didn’t show up.”
“How about a truce for the day?” her father offered.
As if she was a child, pouting because she’d been denied a toy? “Daddy, you don’t get it. This isn’t some fad I’m going to get over. I’m in love. Stephen is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
Her father set aside his coffee cup with a frown. “Muriel.”
“You haven’t even given him a chance. What would have happened to you and Mother if Grandpa hadn’t given you a chance? Did he like you at first? How well did he like you when he learned you wanted to marry Mother and move her over here?”
Her father held up a hand. “Okay, point taken. Now, can we enjoy our day?”
Muriel smiled at him. She’d battered down her father’s defenses and was well on her way to securing her future independence—a fitting victory for the Fourth of July.
But she’d just exited the kitchen when she heard a snippet of conversation that left her lurking around the corner, eavesdropping.
“That was good of you,” said Mother.
“Not really. I know Muriel thinks she and Galahad are going to be together, but the kid’s a drifter. He won’t stay beyond summer. There’s no sense arguing over something that isn’t going to happen.”
“I’m not so sure,” Mother said.
“I am,” Daddy said.
Her father was wrong. Stephen was here to stay and Daddy would simply have to accept that.
* * *
The two families met for their traditional picnic lunch by the river. Little Wendy stayed far away from the water. Mrs. Green made her famous fried chicken and Mother had picked up potato salad and cold cuts from Schwartz’s deli. The cooler was stocked with soda pop for the younger generation and beer for the dads. Mrs. Green’s chocolate cake finished off the meal and shortly thereafter everyone packed up and went to watch the parade.
It was in full swing when Muriel caught sight of Stephen across the crowded street. Tonight they’d meet at the river where they’d partied only a few weeks ago and watch while the town’s younger generation set the sky on fire shooting fireworks over the river. She could hardly wait to set off her own fireworks with Stephen when he kissed her. Her heart rate picked up, and she gave him a smile and a tiny wave. He nodded and waved back. Surely she was imagining that his answering smile failed to reach his eyes.
Darkness took its time coming, but at last the sun slipped behind the mountains. The whistle and boom of fireworks filled the night and the sky lit up with showers of colored sparks.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said to Stephen as they sat together on a log by the campfire Nils had built for the gang. “Not bad for a small town,” she teased.
“Not bad,” he agreed, then fell silent as he chewed on his lower lip.
“What is it?”
“Let’s take a walk.” He stood and held out a hand to her.
Foreboding settled on her heavily. This wasn’t a happy, romantic walk they were about to go on. She hesitated and he reached down, took her hand and gently towed her to her feet. Then he led her away from the fire.
Chapter 5
THEY WERE AWAY FROM THE other people. They should have been about to kiss. Instead, Stephen drove his hands into his pants pockets.
“What’s wrong?” Muriel asked, not wanting to hear the answer. Something was wrong. She’d known it all evening. Heck, she’d known it since she saw him at the parade. Yes, he’d smiled at her, but it hadn’t been a lover’s smile.
“I’m leaving town.”
She blinked. Proof was mounting up but she refused to see it. “For how long? When will you be back?”
“I won’t. It’s time to move on.”
“Move on?” she repeated. “Why don’t you want to stay?”
He looked beyond the park, beyond the town, to the highway. “This isn’t working out.”
“What’s not working out?” she persisted. “Us?” He couldn’t mean them.
“Muriel, you know what I’m talking about. I saw the way your dad looked at me at the parade today.”
So while she’d been smiling encouragement, her father had been sending a very different message. And to think she’d made breakfast for him.
“He doesn’t approve of me. He’s never going to.”
“And so you’re leaving? Just like that? You’re not even going to stay and fight for me?”
“Look, it’s been great. You’re great. But I don’t want to be tied down,” Stephen said. “Life’s too short.”
“I wouldn’t tie you down,” she protested. “I’ll go anywhere you want to go.”
“Would you really, Muriel?”
“Of course!”
“Prove it. Get on my bike right now and ride out of town with me.”
“N-now?” she stammered. Without even saying goodbye? That didn’t make sense.
He shook his head. “That’s what I thought.”
“You thought wrong!”
He shook his head again. “No. I know you think you’d follow me anywhere. And maybe you would for a while, but you’d wind up wanting to come back here.”
She ground her teeth in frustration. “I want to be with you, Stephen.”
“This town is in your blood. It’s your life, the center of your world. You own a chocolate company for crying out loud.”
“I don’t own it. My father owns it.”
“You’ll run it. It’s your inheritance.”
She didn’t want an inheritance. She wanted Stephen.
“And a good one at that. You’re lucky, Muriel. You have a place where you belong, family and friends who love you. Don’t give that up on a whim.”
“Do you think all you are to me is a whim? I’ll be packed in half an hour.”
He closed his eyes. Then he kissed her. It wasn’t a kiss filled with promise. “Goodbye, Muriel,” he said and turned and started walking.
She chased after him, catching his arm. “Stephen, don’t do this. We belong together.”
“Ah, Muriel, you’re so naive. Everybody isn’t equal in America. I’m just a guy from the wrong side of the tracks and that’s all I’ll ever be to your dad.”
“That’s not true,” she insisted, even though she knew it was.
He gave a disbelieving grunt. “People judge you no matter what. Never mind that I put my ass on the line in ’Nam. You know what happened to
me when I first came home? I was at the airport, still in my uniform, and some kid spat on me. I got rid of the uniform and grew my hair and people are still spitting on me. I’m gonna keep riding till I find someplace where they won’t.”
“No one’s spitting on you here,” Muriel said. He had such a big chip on his shoulder he couldn’t see past it.
“I don’t belong.”
“Yes, you do. You belong with me!”
His only response was to remove her hand from his arm. “I’m done,” he said, and walked away.
Stephen had been right, Muriel thought bitterly. He was no hero. And he wasn’t the man of her dreams, either. That man wouldn’t give up, wouldn’t walk away. The dream was over. She stood for a moment, watching him, then buried her face in her hands and wept.
* * *
News spreads fast in a small town. By the sixth of July all her friends knew Stephen was gone. Her father had taken the car in to Swede’s for servicing, so he knew, too. She was grateful he didn’t say anything. Instead he gave her a hug and a kiss and told her he loved her before he left for the Sweet Dreams office.
How sad that it was her father’s love that drove Stephen away. And how sad that the two most important men in her life had been such a huge disappointment to her. “What to Do When the Men in Your Life Disappoint You.” She wished she knew.
Later that day, when she was working in the gift shop, Pat stepped inside.
“Did you come to buy chocolate?” Muriel greeted her stiffly.
Pat shrugged. “I’m looking for my friend. I think I’ve lost her, but I’m hoping...” She stopped and bit her lip. “Oh, Muriel, I’m sorry. I’m sorry he’s gone and I’m sorry we fought.”
That was all it took to bring Muriel around the counter for a hug and a good cry.
As they dried their tears, Pat said, “Fighting over Stephen was stupid.”
Muriel nodded. “It was.”
Pat stood there for a moment, running a hand along the counter. “You know, if you’d gotten engaged I’d have come to the wedding.”
“Come to the wedding? You would’ve been a bridesmaid.”
That made Pat cry all over again, which called for another hug. Finally she said, “Let’s never fight over a man again. Promise?”
Muriel nodded. “Promise.”
“Next time we’ll flip a coin, okay?”
Muriel managed a smile. “Okay.” Would there ever be a next time? She thought she knew the answer to that, and it was all she could do not to start crying all over again.
* * *
Summer dragged on, hot and heavy, and Muriel slogged through it listlessly. Her friends tried to cheer her up. Pat and Olivia assured her on a regular basis that someone else would come along. Arnie brought her bouquets of mountain meadow flowers. Lenny wrote her a song about better times ahead that thoroughly depressed her. And she consoled herself with so much chocolate that she gained seven pounds.
Her father took her out to dinner at Schwangau, the fancy new restaurant in town, and talked about things working out for the best. Meanwhile, she had her family and friends, and the company. He wanted her to work full-time in the office come September. She could start out as a receptionist.
“This is all going to be yours someday,” he reminded her.
She nodded.
“This company will take care of you and your family long after I’m gone,” he continued.
Before she could have a family, she had to have a man. She wiped at her teary eyes with a corner of her napkin.
Her father reached across the table and laid a hand on her arm. “Honey, he wasn’t good enough for you. If he was, he would have stayed.”
“Maybe he would’ve stayed if he thought he was welcome.”
“No,” her father said adamantly. “If he’d really cared about you, he’d have stayed.”
Deep down she knew he was right. Maybe Stephen had simply been looking for an excuse to leave.
She’d finally had all she could take of well-meaning friends and fatherly advice. She slipped away on a Sunday afternoon and went for a walk. The walk led her to Lost Bride Trail.
As she hiked she could hear the thunder of the falls. That poor, miserable bride. Her life hadn’t turned out as she planned, but at least she’d had a chance to be a bride. Muriel never would.
“You have to stop this,” she told herself.
All this wallowing in self-pity was becoming ridiculous. She was too young for her life to be over. She could still make something good of it. She’d learn more about her family’s business, and maybe, down the road, she’d marry Arnie and he could help her run Sweet Dreams. They could have a family.
Little Arnies running everywhere.
Maybe she’d stay single and hope her father lived until he was ninety.
She was at the falls now. She stood in awe, watching the water plunge over the rocks. How many women had something as incredible as this practically in their backyards? And how many women had a chance to live in such a beautiful town with so many wonderful people? So she was alone. But she had family and friends to be alone with. And— What was that? She strained to see more clearly.
A woman in a long, white dress darted under the cataract.
Muriel blinked. All right, she was imagining things.
But no, there was the woman again. A shiver ran down Muriel’s spine and she gasped. The lost bride! She dashed off the trail, moving toward the edge of Icicle Creek to get a closer look.
Muriel had never been the most athletic girl in town. She still wasn’t. She tripped over a tree root and tumbled down the bank, oomphing her way right into the shallows of the creek. She staggered to her feet, muddy and wet, and stared up at the falls.
All she saw was water.
Wishful seeing, she told herself in disgust as she made her way back up the bank. There was no proposal in her future.
She was never walking Lost Bride Trail again. Ever.
* * *
Labor Day weekend. It was the last hurrah for the grade school and high school kids, and the starting flag for many of the older ones. Pat would soon be attending Cascade Junior College and Olivia was looking into culinary school. Lenny was going to nearby Washington State University and Nils had been accepted at the University of Washington, where he wanted to study to become a pharmacist. Before leaving, though, he’d proposed to Hildy and she’d promised to wait for him. Hank Carp had gotten Stephie pregnant and they were getting married the following weekend. Even Arnie was moving on, bound for the University of Washington, like Nils, where he was planning on majoring in business.
Muriel was staying put, working at Sweet Dreams. And she’d decided she was happy about that. Daddy had given her an assignment that she was truly enjoying—designing a logo for their growing company. And he’d promised to let her write the ad copy for their next catalog. It wouldn’t be quite as exciting as writing for Seventeen or Woman’s Day, but it would come close.
Yes, she’d decided she was perfectly happy with where she was in life. After all, how many women had their very own chocolate factory?
Still, as Friday wound down, she found herself looking out the office window at the Wenatchee River, thinking about her life and sighing. Something was missing.
Make that someone.
She shook her head. What was the point of revisiting that old dream? She needed to move on with her life. Maybe she’d take some evening classes at Cascade Junior College, try her hand at writing a novel. Or possibly submit some more magazine articles. “How to Survive a Breakup,” by Muriel Patrick, chocoholic. Except moping probably didn’t count as good advice.
She was just locking up the gift shop when she heard the roar of a motorcycle coming down the street. She turned and saw a lean man in jeans and a black leather jacket with blond ha
ir. Short blond hair? Still, there was no mistaking who it was.
“Stephen!” She dropped her purse and ran to meet him, barely giving him time to stop and turn off his bike. “You’re back,” she said gleefully, stating the obvious. Then she grabbed his arms and kissed him, right there on the street for anyone passing by to see.
“I’ve missed you,” he said.
“Is that why you’re back?” This was too good to be true. Was he really here? She held on to his arms, sure he’d vanish if she let go.
“Yeah, it is. I need you in my life.”
“I’ll go away with you.”
“No. You’d just be helping me run away from my own insecurities. Anyway, this is where you belong so this is where I need to be.” He smiled. “It’s where I want to be.”
“Oh, Stephen!” she cried, and kissed him again.
“Get your purse, then hop on back,” he said. “I’ll take you home. It’s time your dad and I had a talk.”
* * *
If her father was surprised to find Stephen in the living room, sipping lemonade with Muriel and Mother when he came home from work, he didn’t show it. “I see you’re back.”
“Yes, sir, I am. I came to talk to you.”
“Come on, Muriel,” Mother said, “let’s go see about dinner.”
She didn’t want to see about dinner. She wanted to stay right here in the living room and supervise this all-important talk.
“We’ll be fine,” Stephen assured her, and Mother nudged her out of the room. Daddy made it final by shutting the pocket door in her face.
Happily, the phone rang. Her mother picked up the kitchen extension. “Oh, hello, Betty.”
That was a gift. Mother would be talking to Mrs. Green for a good fifteen minutes. Muriel escaped and hurried down the hall, where she positioned herself by the pocket door. She pressed her ear to it.
“I see you cut your hair,” Daddy was saying.
Muriel had to stifle a groan. This wasn’t going well.
“It’s easier to take care of when it’s short.”
“Is that what you’re about, young man? Taking the easy way?”
Welcome to Icicle Falls Page 4
