Just Shy of Harmony

by Philip Gulley

  Someone clipped out the article and put it in the hymnbook on Jessie and Asa’s pew at church. They had written across the article, Some people will do anything to get their picture in the paper.

  The next Sunday, Jessie opened the hymnal to number 127 to sing “Blessed Assurance” and the article floated to the floor at Dale Hinshaw’s feet.

  Dale reached down, picked it up, and handed it to Jessie, saying, “Proverbs 16:18.” That was all he said. Proverbs 16:18.

  During the quiet time, Jessie looked it up in her Bible. Pride goeth before a fall, she read.

  She wanted to cry, sitting there in church, but she waited until she got home.

  “And to think I gave Dale Hinshaw a chicken for his Scripture egg project,” Asa fumed. “I’ve half a mind to take that chicken back.”

  He stewed about it for several days. Then on Tuesday he drove into town to Dale’s house and knocked on his door.

  “Hi, Asa. What brings you here?”

  “I’ve come for my chicken.”

  “Uh, I thought it was mine to keep. Besides, it’s one of my best layers.”

  “You should have thought of that before you insulted my wife.”

  “Boy, Fern Hampton was right when she said what she said.”

  “What did Fern say?”

  “She said this money would go to your head and you’d forget who your friends were.”

  “I think we’re finding out who our friends really are,” Asa said, his voice rising. “And we’ve sure been surprised.”

  “I’ll get your chicken.”

  Dale turned and clomped down the stairs to his basement. Asa could hear squawking, then Dale reappeared at the door with the chicken. He thrust it toward Asa.

  “Here’s your chicken. I’m just sorry it’s come to this.”

  “No sorrier than I am.”

  “Does this mean you won’t be making a donation toward the Scripture egg project?”

  Asa didn’t hear him. He was walking away, the chicken under his arm.

  Asa didn’t tell Jessie what had happened. She’s the type who worries about hurting people’s feelings. She worries about the woman from Fort Wayne who wrote the letter. She worries about the people from NAG and what they think of her. She’s been brooding about the newspaper clipping in their hymnal.

  “Never mind them,” Asa tells her. “They’re all busy-bodies. It’s none of their business what we do.”

  Jessie dreaded the twenty-seventh day of the month, when the check came from the bank.

  Clarence the mailman brought their September check on a Thursday. The window was bowed out from where he’d tried to see inside. He could just read the Pay to the order of part. Just enough to whet his interest.

  “What do you think we ought to do with it?” Jessie asked Asa at the supper table.

  “Well, I tell you one thing. We gave away the first check and it brought us nothing but heartache. I say we blow this one on ourselves.”

  They packed their suitcases the next afternoon and drove to the city to eat in a revolving restaurant atop a thirty-story building. They could see the water towers in the outlying towns, rising up like medieval towers. They took a room at a hotel that put chocolate mints on the pillows.

  Asa poked around the bathroom. “Lookee here—shoeshine cloths. And they’re free!”

  “And there’s a real safe in the closet,” Jessie said. “With a combination and everything!”

  They watched TV, then went to bed. They woke up the next morning and ordered breakfast in. A man brought it to their room. It cost sixteen dollars. Asa gave him a twenty and told him to keep the change. They ate in bed, savoring the moment. It was the closest thing they’d ever had to a honeymoon. The only time they’d stayed in a hotel was the night before their daughter’s wedding.

  Asa smiled at Jessie. Jessie smiled back.

  “Care for a strawberry?” he asked.

  “Yes, thank you. Would you like some more tea?”

  “Please.” She poured him tea from a silver service.

  Asa smiled at Jessie. Jessie smiled back.

  “You look particularly lovely, Mrs. Peacock.”

  “And you’re quite handsome.”

  Asa leaned back in bed and sighed. “You know, with all our money, we could maybe hire us a man to bring us breakfast in bed every Saturday.”

  Jessie laughed.

  They finished their breakfast, then packed their bags, paid their bill, and drove west toward Harmony. Three miles from town they crested a hill and could see the town water tower in back of the school.

  “Land ho,” Asa cried out.

  Jessie smiled. They rolled into town. Past Harvey Muldock’s car dealership and the Legal Grounds Coffee Shop. They stopped at the light next to Kivett’s Five and Dime and waited for the light to turn.

  “Honey, would you mind pulling over there in front of Kivett’s?” Jessie asked, pointing to an empty space.

  The light changed to green. Asa wrestled the truck into first gear and eased up in front of Kivett’s.

  “Why are we stopping here?” he asked.

  “I’m going to buy a toaster. A four-slot toaster with a built-in bagel slicer, and I don’t care what anyone thinks. I’m tired of caring what people think. We’re going to do what we want and use the money however we wish, and if people don’t like it, tough bananas.”

  She carried the toaster all the way home on her lap. She opened the box at the kitchen table and read the directions, then toasted four pieces of bread to a golden brown perfection.

  She took her mother’s silver service from the china cabinet in the living room and brewed a pot of tea. They sat at the table eating toast with strawberry jam, drinking their tea.

  “Care for some more tea?” she asked Asa after a while.

  “Please.”

  They ate in a companionable silence.

  Jessie finished her toast and wiped her mouth. She sipped her tea. “You know, I’ve been thinking. Vernley’s sending us twenty thousand dollars a month, but we can live on two thousand and that’s with you quitting your job at the poultry plant. We break even with the farming. Why don’t we give away the rest of it as the Lord leads us.”

  Asa smiled at her across the table. “You’re a fine woman, Jessie Peacock.”

  “But first things first. How much money do we need to finish the barn?”

  “Erven thinks it’ll run another six thousand dollars, all told. That’s with him and me doing the work.”

  “That leaves us twelve thousand dollars to give away this month. And I know just the folks to send it to.”

  She reached in her purse, pulled out their checkbook, and wrote a check for twelve thousand dollars to the Network Against Gambling.

  “That ought to stir ’em up,” Jessie said.

  Asa laughed. “Jessie Peacock, you have a flair for the ironic.”

  She put the check in an envelope and addressed it to NAG, then fished a stamp from her purse.

  Jessie and Asa walked down the lane to the road, put the check in the mailbox, and raised the little metal flag. They ambled back up the lane, hand in hand. It was a beautiful early autumn afternoon, and all the world about them was verging on change.

  Twelve

  No More Wing Buds

  The kids went back to school the Thursday after Labor Day. Harmony’s townspeople woke to the sound of buses grinding up the hill near the park, and looked out their windows to see the children riding their bikes to school. The kids parked their bikes in the bike rack that Mr. Griswold, the janitor, had built under the tulip poplar behind the school.

  Wayne Fleming got home from work just in time to drive his kids to school. It was a big day. Kate, his youngest, was entering kindergarten. Rachel was in first grade, and Adam in second.

  Wayne drove them to school and walked them to their classes, then came back home, took a shower, and went to bed. The phone woke him up a little after lunchtime. It was the manager at the Kroger, asking if he could com
e in early that day to work.

  Wayne had wanted to be home when his kids got out of school, but money has been a little tight so he agreed to go in. Adam needed braces, and Wayne’s insurance didn’t cover them. He called Deena Morrison to see if she could pick the kids up at school and bring them home.

  “The neighbor lady can’t be here until around seven,” he explained. “I guess they can wait until then to eat supper.”

  “Nonsense. I’ll take them to my house for supper. And I’ll have them home by seven o’clock.”

  “I sure do thank you. They’ll enjoy being with you.”

  “I’ll enjoy being with them.” She paused. “Are we still on for the Corn and Sausage Days parade this Saturday?”

  Wayne had forgotten his promise to take Deena to the parade. What a mess, he thought.

  “You bet we are, Deena. I’m looking forward to it. I just hope I feel up to it. I’ve been feeling a little puny lately.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you get to feeling better. I miss seeing you.”

  “I miss seeing you, Deena.”

  They talked a little longer, then said good-bye.

  A little before three, Deena hung the Sorry, We’re Closed sign on the front door of the Legal Grounds Coffee Shop, climbed in her Jeep, and drove to the school to get the kids.

  Adam, Rachel, and Kate came out of the school, saw Deena, and ran to her.

  “What are you doing here?” Kate asked. “Where’s Daddy?”

  “Your daddy had to work, honey. But don’t you worry. We’re going to eat supper at my house.”

  She buckled them inside her Jeep and drove to her grandmother’s house.

  Mabel Morrison was sitting on her front porch when they turned in the driveway. She peered at the children. “Who have you brought home? Who are these children? I don’t believe I’ve ever met them.”

  Kate laughed. “You know us. We’re Deena’s friends.”

  “Oh, so you are. Well, since we know one another, I suppose you can sit on my lap. Come on up here.”

  Kate climbed onto Mabel’s lap. Adam sat on the porch rail, and Deena and Rachel sat on the porch swing. Rachel leaned into Deena.

  “I have a secret,” Kate whispered in Mabel’s ear.

  “Oh, I love secrets. Let me guess what it is.” She squeezed her eyes shut and thought hard. “Does it have anything to do with an elephant?”

  “No. You’ll never guess, so I’ll tell you. My mommy’s coming home.”

  Mabel Morrison’s eyes opened wide. “Your mommy’s coming home. Why, uh, that’s nice, honey. I’ll bet you’re excited.” She looked at Deena, who had turned rather pale.

  Mabel turned back to Kate. “When’s your mommy coming home?”

  “This Saturday.” She counted on her fingers. “In two days. Daddy said we’ll all spend the day together, just like we used to.” Kate turned to Deena. “Daddy said we could all go to the parade together. Do you want to come with us? You’re our friend too.”

  Deena didn’t hear her.

  Kate tugged at her sleeve. “Will you go to the parade with us?”

  Mabel lifted Kate from her lap and set her on the floor. “Kids, if you go into the kitchen, you’ll find some cookies in the cookie jar. Adam, honey, can you be a big boy and pour the milk for your sisters?”

  “Sure,” he said. The kids opened the screen door and went inside.

  “When did all this come about?” Mabel asked.

  “It’s the first I’ve heard of it. I wonder when Wayne was going to tell me…”

  “Hopefully before Saturday.” Mabel rose from her rocker and sat beside Deena on the porch swing. She put her arm around her granddaughter. “I’m sorry, honey.”

  Deena’s throat felt tight. Her eyes burned. “It’s all right, Grandma. I’ll be okay.”

  “Maybe when they’re together this Saturday, he’ll tell her he wants a divorce. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

  “Grandma, how can you say that? It would be sad. For their sake, I hope just the opposite happens. I hope they get the help they need, that they’ll stay married, and that those precious children will have a mother again.”

  Mabel gave an indignant snort. “You can’t be serious. What kind of mother would leave her children?”

  “A mother who needs help. Now maybe she’ll get it. In any event, I’ll not stand between a man and his wife. I never should’ve dated Wayne in the first place.”

  The children returned to the porch, and Deena walked them to the park to play on the playground, then fed them supper before driving them home. The neighbor lady was waiting for them. Deena kissed the kids good-bye and gave them hugs. She’d always wanted children. Sometimes she imagined that Adam, Rachel, and Kate were her children—that she and Wayne had married and they were all a family.

  She hugged Katie to her, hard.

  “Ouch,” Kate said. “Be careful of my wing buds.”

  The week before, Kate had asked Deena what her shoulder blades were for, and Deena had told her they were wing buds—that when she became an angel, her wings would sprout from there.

  Deena settled herself in the Jeep and drove home.

  Her grandmother was standing at the stove, heating water for tea. There was a box of Kleenex on the table. Deena took one and scrunched it in her hand. Mabel poured her a cup of tea, then sat across from her.

  “What am I going to do?” Deena moaned.

  “Fight for your man.”

  “That’s just it, Grandma. He’s not my man. I was foolish to date him the first place. We’re through. It’s over.”

  “Don’t be rash. You knew she’d be showing up sometime. Wait and see what happens.”

  “I just wish Wayne would’ve told me. I hate that I had to hear it from the kids.”

  “I’m sure he had a good reason for not telling you yet. Why don’t you ask him?”

  “No. It’s his place to tell me. I’m going to wait and see if he tells me.”

  She blew her nose and went upstairs to bed.

  The next morning she woke and walked down to the Legal Grounds. As the coffee brewed, she watched out the window at the town kids making their way to school.

  Wayne entered the shop a little after eight. He sat at the table near the window. Bea and Opal Majors were in the shop lingering over their coffee. Opal asked Deena for an apple muffin.

  “Sorry,” Deena said. “We’re closing.”

  “Closing! What do you mean you’re closing? Why are you closing?”

  “Because the man just got here to spray for bugs. We’re having a terrible cockroach problem.”

  Bea and Opal gathered their things and left.

  Deena hung the Sorry, We’re Closed sign on the front door and sat at the table across from Wayne.

  “We need to talk,” Wayne said.

  “What about?”

  This was the part Wayne hadn’t been sure about—how to tell his girlfriend that his wife was coming home.

  The week before, he’d gotten his hair cut and asked Kyle’s advice.

  “It doesn’t really matter,” Kyle told him. “You’re sunk no matter how you do it.”

  Wayne groaned.

  “Think about it,” Kyle said. “Let’s say you go back to Sally. There’s no way Deena will have anything to do with you. And you’ll be stuck with a woman who’s left you once and will likely do it again. Every time she goes to the grocery store, you’ll wonder if she’s coming back. On the other hand, let’s say Sally comes back here to live, but you marry Deena. There’ll be a catfight for sure. Have you ever seen two women fight over a man?”

  “Can’t say as I have.”

  “I saw it in a movie once. It’s nasty. All sorts of clawing and scratching and biting. And the worst part was that the man ended up getting blamed. No matter what you do, you’re sunk. Do you want your neck shaved?”

  “Sure.”

  “Have you considered becoming a priest and being celibate?”

  “Not even for a momen
t.”

  “Then you better tell Deena, and the sooner the better. Just come right out and tell her.”

  So that’s what Wayne did in the Legal Grounds Coffee Shop. He reached across the table and took Deena’s hand.

  “Sally’s coming home tomorrow,” he said.

  Deena turned her head away. She knew if she looked at him, she’d cry.

  “I’m sorry I’m just now telling you. I’ve known for some time. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you. Please forgive me.”

  “How long will she be here?”

  “Just for the weekend. She wants to see the kids.”

  “And the kids want to see her, of course. I think it’s nice they’ll be together.”

  “I need to be there. I don’t want to leave the kids alone with her just yet. I won’t be able to take you to the parade.”

  “I understand.” She pulled her hand from his. “Is she just coming to see the kids? Did she say anything about wanting to see you?”

  “She said she hoped we could maybe work things out, but I don’t want to. She had her chance.”

  “I see.”

  “Are you mad?”

  “No, I’m not mad.” Deena hesitated, then gathered up her courage. “But Wayne, I don’t think we should date any longer. You need to be with your wife and get help for your marriage. You owe that to your children. And you can’t do that if you’re dating me.”

  “Oh, Deena, don’t do this. My marriage is over. I’m telling Sally tomorrow. You’re the one I want.”

  “I’ll not do it this way. I’ll not take a man from his wife. Not if she wants to try and make it work. I won’t do it. Talk with her. Get counseling. Fix your marriage. You owe it to the kids.” She rose from her chair. “Thank you for the past few months. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you and the kids. I wish you and Sally all the luck in the world. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

  “Can we still go to church together? I won’t try to hold your hand or anything.”

  “I don’t think so. It wouldn’t be right.”

  Deena went to the front door and turned the sign around to read Yes, We’re Open. She walked behind the counter and poured out the old coffee.