Grace Above All (Fesler-Lampert Minnesota Heritage)

by Jane St. Anthony

  “Everybody survived?” she asked Grace.

  “Still four of us here, last time I counted.”

  “Great, I can steal a little shut-eye.” She surveyed the card table top covered with elbows, magazines, and the remnants of lunch. “Hey, kids,” she said. In the big room, she paused at the refrigerator for a can of pop. “Don’t wake me up if anyone needs me. I have to get my beauty sleep before your dad shows up tomorrow.”

  Voices slipped in from outside.

  “I’ll be back,” said Grace, pushing herself up from the chair. Beth didn’t seem to notice that Grace was leaving. She was intent on pasting an acorn onto an album page. It rolled off when she pressed it. Grace paused. “Bethie, I don’t think that’s going to work.”

  Having finished his scrapbook, Pinky looked up from one of Chuck’s comic books to watch Beth. “It might work,” he said. “Put some more paste on, but don’t push down. Let it sit and dry.”

  Polly stopped cutting the old curtains she had found in a drawer. She was using her tablet-paper scrapbook for clothing design.

  “She won’t be able to close it,” she said to Pinky.

  “Maybe she doesn’t want to close it,” he said, observing the acorn attempt.

  “Yes, it will be a pretty book that stays open,” Beth said, licking paste off her finger.

  Grace walked slowly to the door. Sometimes the sweetness of the little kids was upsetting. Would Pinky ever be tough enough to weather the challenges of growing up? Would Beth? It was doubtful.

  The voices had moved down the steps to the beach. Grace followed. Frankie and Chuck were sitting on the sand.

  “How was Hilda?” she said. “And Gunda?” For the first time, she realized that she hadn’t thought about Chuck and Frankie’s whereabouts during Bernadette’s Sunday drive.

  “We didn’t go see them,” said Chuck.

  “Impossible. You left with Bernadette.”

  “No, really,” Frankie said. “Your brother complained so much that your mom dropped us off at the dock in town before she went to see those people. We had our poles when we hopped into the car, so we fished the whole time.”

  Grace looked at Chuck to see if they were lying. He pointed to a bucket. Fish swam merrily or frantically, depending on whether you were the cook or the fish.

  “Dinner,” Chuck said. He glowed.

  “Who’s going to clean them, your servant?” Grace bit her tongue. She should watch her tone in front of Frankie.

  “I know how to clean them,” Frankie said. “I’ve been cleaning fish with my grandpa since he let me hold a knife.”

  “You didn’t even stop at Hilda’s?” Grace said. “You just fished?”

  “We went to Icey Ices,” said Chuck. “It wasn’t that far from the dock. Then we fished some more.”

  Grace felt the day slipping away from her. If Frankie wasn’t going to act, she would. “Who gets all those fish?” she asked. “Let’s eat them together, since you both caught them.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Frankie said. “My dad and grandpa might like that.”

  “But with my mom?” said Chuck. “And the kids?”

  “It’s a good plan,” Grace said. “I’ll tell Bernadette when she gets up.”

  They ate supper at a long table on the Hales’ porch. Frankie’s dad and grandpa sat at one end. Grace was at the other end, as far away from Bernadette as possible. Frankie sat next to Grace, and Chuck next to Frankie. Pinky and Beth clustered in the middle with Polly.

  “These fish are great,” Bernadette said, licking her fingers. She wore a white peasant blouse that left her shoulders almost bare. Her lipstick matched the red trim of her top. Dark curls sprang from her headband. Grace was grateful that she had Dad’s reddish hair so that hers didn’t totally mimic Bernadette’s.

  “How is it that you haven’t been up here for so many years, Bernie?” asked Grandpa Ernest. “I haven’t seen you since you were very young, a teenager.”

  In spite of herself, Grace watched Bernadette, trying to imagine how other people saw her. Frankie was watching her, too.

  “You knew the three sisters,” Bernadette said. “Hilda avoided the cabin after Gunda’s accident. Mom—one of the sisters—and Dad brought me up here when I was a kid. But when Aunt Marie retired, she lived at the cabin in the summer. She wasn’t too crazy about kids, so we didn’t come to visit often. My husband and I brought Chuck and Grace here when they were little, but the circus was a bit much for Marie.” Bernadette speared a piece of the fried fish and resumed eating.

  “Marie kept to herself, but she was a gracious woman,” said Grandpa Ernest. “Hilda, however, was the one I set my sights on when I was young.”

  “Wasn’t she too old for you?” Grace said from the other end of the table.

  “Where do you get your manners, Gracie?” said Bernadette, after having made a show of choking on her fish.

  “Hilda, your great-aunt, is two or three years older than I am,” Grandpa Ernest said with a smile. “We spent summers next door to each other. From the moment I was aware of her existence in the world, Hilda was the one for me. As much as a ten-year-old can love a thirteen-year-old, or a fifteen-year-old can love an eighteen-year-old, that’s how smitten I was with Hilda. She and Harold had their wedding reception at the cabin. I hid in the woods.”

  “She broke your heart,” Beth said.

  Grandpa Ernest looked at Beth. “She did, but she never knew it.” He took a sip of the iced tea that Grace had made. “So I found another girl, my Julie.”

  “That’s good,” said Beth, nibbling a potato chip Bernadette had contributed to the supper.

  “Hilda’s still real nice,” Bernadette interjected. “But she’s not what you’d call a looker anymore.”

  “And your cousin, Gunda?” asked Frankie’s dad.

  “I drove her and Hilda out here on a little jaunt today.”

  “And I missed her?” Grandpa Ernest said loudly.

  “We were just here for a second. I could have brought them over, Ernest, but I didn’t think of it. Sorry.”

  Grace looked at Polly, who was frowning at her plate as if she could see Gunda’s large shadowy figure.

  Pinky’s eyes darted from face to face as if everyone knew something that he didn’t.

  “What’s wrong with Gunda’s brain again?” he asked.

  “She’s not right in the head,” said Grace. “Bernadette told us.”

  “Why isn’t she right in the head?” Pinky restated his question. No one said anything. Wasn’t Bernadette supposed to answer?

  Grandpa Ernest cleared his throat. He looked at Bernadette. She looked back at him as if she expected him to speak.

  “As I recall, Gunda fell in the lake when she was a toddler. Is that correct, Bernie?”

  “You’re right, Ernest.”

  “Well, as you know, she lived, but she was in a coma for quite a while. She wasn’t the same little girl after that.”

  Everyone was quiet.

  “This lake?” Frankie finally asked.

  “Yes,” said Grandpa Ernest.

  “Where was the little girl’s mommy?” Beth said, looking alarmed.

  Another silence filled the room.

  “I believe that Hilda and Harold had driven into town. Am I right, Bernadette?”

  “Right you are,” Bernadette answered curtly, then paused. “It’s not a happy story, Ernest. Let’s have another beer.”

  Grandpa Ernest is trying to get Bernadette to run with this, Grace realized.

  “Marie was watching Gunda at the time, I believe,” Grandpa said.

  “Right again. Marie was the youngest sister. She was crazy about Gunda.”

  Grandpa waited for Bernadette to speak again.

  “Marie turned her back on Gunda for a minute. A minute too long.” Bernadette looked uncomfortable.

  “Hilda and Harold rarely, if ever, came back to the cabin after that,” said Grandpa. “Hilda, as you know, wanted nothing to do with the cabin
after Marie died. Do you want to tell the rest, Bernie?”

  “You’re doing great, Ernest.”

  Grandpa scanned the faces at the table. “Your great-aunt Marie broke her engagement to her fiancé soon after Gunda’s accident. After that, she worked as a secretary at the mill in town and lived with her parents.”

  “Why didn’t she get married?” said Polly.

  Grandpa cleared his throat. “I imagine that she felt, somehow, unworthy.”

  “Why did she come back to the lake in the summer after she retired?” Grace asked. “After all those years?”

  “I’ve often wondered the same thing,” Grandpa said. “Perhaps it was her penance.”

  “What is ‘her penance’?” said Beth.

  “A punishment,” Grandpa said, looking at her with concern. “She never forgave herself for what happened to little Gunda. I think she punished herself over and over.”

  “Oh,” Beth said. “She could have been the little girl’s good auntie.”

  “All right, that’s enough,” Bernadette said. “Marie never got over it. God knows Hilda didn’t have a choice. She couldn’t go into her shell with Gunda to look after. End of story. Any more beer here?”

  “Where is the little girl now?” Beth asked.

  Everyone looked at Beth as if aliens had just discarded her.

  “That’s Gunda,” Grace said. “She’s old, older than Bernadette.”

  “I’m sad for her. She couldn’t hold her doll by herself.”

  Bernadette frowned at Beth and opened the bottle of Hamm’s that Frankie’s dad had put in front of her.

  “The things that you think up, Bethie,” said Bernadette. She adjusted her peasant blouse, covering her shoulders as if suddenly realizing that they were cold as well as naked. “Kids. Where do they get these ideas?”

  12

  After everyone had finished eating, Frankie turned to Grace. “Let’s go down to the beach.” His brown eyes danced with light, probably reflected from the lantern someone had hung in a corner of the porch to lure bugs away from food and people.

  “Yeah, we can look for crawlers in the dirt before we hit the sand,” said Chuck, pushing himself away from the table. Polly and Pinky followed suit.

  “Grace, you and Polly stay and help me clear the mess we made,” Bernadette said.

  Grace looked at Frankie, whose eyebrows went up in an I-don’t-know-how-this-happened look.

  “Let them all go, Bernadette,” said Frankie’s dad. “We don’t have anything else to do except play a little poker.”

  “I can clear the table,” Grace said. What was the point of going to the beach with Frankie when she would be responsible for the younger ones?

  “Let’s move inside to where the comfortable furniture is,” said Tom Hale. “Need another beer, Bernadette?”

  “Why not?”

  Grace and Grandpa Ernest carried the dishes to the sink.

  Every once in a while Bernadette said something beyond unfair to cruel. While Bernadette was at the hospital having Beth, Grace and Dad and Polly had decorated the Christmas tree. Mrs. Anderson from next door brought a Dutch oven of beef stew to Bernadette after the homecoming.

  “I can’t believe it,” Mrs. Anderson had said. “A new baby, and the tree is already decorated.”

  “You do what you have to do,” Bernadette had replied.

  “I’ll wash if you dry,” said Grandpa, snapping Grace back to the present.

  “I can help,” Frankie’s dad said as he shut the refrigerator door with his elbow, a beer in each hand.

  “Just take the garbage out, Tom. The fish was great, but I’d rather not smell it in my dreams.”

  “Sure you don’t want to join the kids, Grace?” Tom Hale asked.

  “It’s early. I will when I’m finished here.” Grace looked at Bernadette, who shuffled a deck of cards after tipping her head back for a long swig of her beer. “Lord knows Bernadette won’t help. It would cut into her free time. She needs at least twenty-four hours of it a day.”

  Bernadette put down her bottle.

  “Gracie, I swear I don’t know where you get that mouth.”

  “Where do I get that mouth?” Grace echoed. She stared at Bernadette as she dried a glass and placed it in the cupboard. She stopped short of saying, “Look in the mirror,” but held herself so that she wouldn’t display the tiniest bit of emotion.

  Grandpa kept washing dishes. Frankie’s dad took a sip of beer and put the bottle down on the table. He suddenly remembered the garbage and jumped up to carry it outside.

  “Jeez,” Bernadette said to Grace over the sound of running water at the sink. “I’m glad your dad’s coming tomorrow. He’ll have something to say about your attitude.” She resumed her card shuffling.

  On the beach, Beth patted sand onto Pinky’s stomach, which she tried to bury along with his extremities. Polly sat close to—but not next to—Frankie and Chuck. They stopped their rock-skipping competition when Grace descended the steps.

  Frankie smiled. “Hi, Grace.”

  “Hi.”

  Chuck looked at Frankie as if he had violated a code. “We’re having fun,” he said to Grace.

  “What should we do, Grace?” Polly asked. “We want to do something.”

  “We’re having fun,” Chuck repeated.

  “I heard you,” Grace said. “Let’s play hide-and-seek. The dock is safe.”

  “Do I have to play?” Pinky asked. “It’s cool in here.”

  Beth continued patting Pinky’s neck. “May I play?”

  “You don’t have to play, Pinky,” Grace said. “You can be safe instead of the dock. Beth, you can play, but stay with Polly so you don’t get lost.”

  Polly looked at Grace with quiet desperation. Polly doesn’t want to be in charge of Beth, Grace realized. She wants to be free to chase Frankie.

  “Polly, this is just the first game. You hide with Beth. Chuck, start counting.”

  The beach offered no cover. Grace, Frankie, Polly, and Beth scrambled up the steps and into the trees as fast as they could.

  “Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen . . . how high, Grace? Fifty?”

  “A hundred,” she called back. The branches rustled and snapped as everyone scattered. Chuck’s counting was punctuated with the soft lapping of the lake. No use going too far. Reaching Pinky would be easy if she ran down the wooded hill rather than the steep steps, where Chuck would most likely be waiting for them. The counting ended. How easy it would be to slide by Chuck.

  Grace looked at the sky. It was still blue and a little hazy. The sun wouldn’t go down until almost nine o’clock. She moved through the woods that fronted the cabins until she had a clear view of the beach. Troll-like, Chuck hid under the steps that ended in sand. From the opposite side, Polly and Beth ran, skimming over the ground to Pinky, the human sandbag. By the time Chuck saw them, it was too late.

  “Free!” Polly screamed as she and Beth fell on Pinky.

  “No fair!” Chuck cried.

  “Why not?” Polly shouted. “We have to come back on your route?”

  The ground crunched behind Grace. She turned.

  “Still hiding?” Frankie said.

  Grace swallowed hard. She had never been this close to him. She was tall for a girl, but he was taller. One of his sun-browned arms held a branch out of his face.

  “Still hiding,” she said. “And you’re still hiding?”

  “Still hiding.”

  “We could each run at Pinky from a different side of the beach at the same time,” said Grace. “Chuck wouldn’t know which one of us to go after.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  “I’ll go from the left side and you go from the right.”

  “Okay.”

  “Let’s start now. We’re the last ones.”

  “Okay.”

  “See you on the beach.” Grace began to move away.

  “Grace, don’t go yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “I want to ask
you if you’ll go out with me sometime.” Frankie sounded out of breath, as if he wasn’t used to talking to a girl’s face so close.

  “I will.” Grace found ordinary words for an extraordinary feeling.

  “We could walk into town or something.”

  “Sure. Do you know how far that is?” Grace wanted to take back her question. Maybe Frankie wouldn’t want to walk into town if he thought it was an all-day expedition.

  “It’s about five miles. I watched the odometer when Grandpa drove in the last time.”

  “That’s not too bad,” Grace said, feeling hopeful.

  “Do you want to go tomorrow?”

  “Frankie! Grace! Where are you guys?” Chuck’s voice boomed from the lower part of the woods just above the beach. Did he think he could scare them out?

  “Tomorrow is good,” Grace said, knowing that it wasn’t. Tomorrow Dad would arrive. He would notice if she was gone for most of the day.

  “Let’s leave at about ten o’clock,” said Frankie. “There’s a little park in town. We can eat lunch there or something.”

  “Sure. I know there’s a grocery store.”

  They moved in opposite directions. Grace padded through the woods toward the beach, her heart thudding. What if she was wrong about Frankie and he turned out to be Chuck-like? How could she lose him on a ten-mile hike? Would Bernadette make a fuss if she found out? Grace had never gone on a walk that might or might not be a date.

  When Grace and Frankie broke out of the woods and raced for the human sandbag, Chuck was ambling toward Pinky, too. He looked in both directions and made his choice. He went for Grace. She could have guessed it. Chuck would let Frankie beat him rather than see Grace gloat, home free.

  When Frankie called “Free!” getting away didn’t seem as important. Grace taunted Chuck, forcing him to switch back and forth as she zigzagged in the sand. Game over. She didn’t need to win at everything. But Chuck slipped. Grace made a wide arc around him and dove for Pinky.

  “I almost had her!” Chuck yelled. “It’s like you two planned it.”

  Grace didn’t look at Frankie. “Stuff like this just happens,” she said. “It’s fun when it does, right, Bethie?”

  Beth sat on a rock, smiling her sweet, slightly crazy smile. “It’s fun,” she said.