by Lisa Samson
Newly’s speech must have skedaddled because it took a good ten seconds for him to respond, and then he only said, “Huh.”
And that most certainly is not British!
Is it?
Lark
AFTER MUSIC PRACTICE WE SAT ALONE at the 3 B’s, Johnny and I, and only the tube of fluorescence over the mirror glowed behind the counter. Deke left an hour before. “Lock up before you go.” And he zoomed off in his gold-trimmed Lincoln.
“There’s something I have to tell you about.” Johnny’s eyes glowed in the darkness. “I haven’t been this excited in years.”
“What happened?”
The Flannery news would have to wait.
He peeled a napkin from the metal holder and began shredding it with his beautiful fingers. “I’ve been looking into how doctors are really needed in Third World countries. Did I mention that?”
“Uh-huh.”
“So, like I said, I’ve been looking into it. I can go for a couple of years to Kenya. It’s nothing I have to sign on for for the rest of my life.”
“What about your practice here?”
“I can take a sabbatical. Physicians do it all the time.”
“I’ve never heard of one doing that.”
He smiled. “So what do you think?”
“About medical missions in general? About you going specifically? About how I feel about that in regard to us in particular?”
“All three.”
I sat back against the black vinyl of the booth. I blew out air. I tried to think. “I guess I need to know first how you feel about all this regarding us?”
There was no way I was going to say or suggest anything first.
“My feelings are deepening. I’m wondering if you feel the same. If you regard me as more than just a guy you go out with.”
“I do feel the same.” Did I? Or was he just so nice, a great catch, and somebody comfortable to grow old with? Was he insurance against loneliness? Easy prescriptions when I would start needing them?
Oh, that’s horrible, Lark. I can’t believe you even thought that!
“I’m not sure I’d want to go it alone.”
I inhaled, held it, then ventured to say, “You want me to go with you?”
He smiled, nodded and squeezed my hand. “What do you think?”
“Well, my first reaction is to think, What in the world good would I be to anybody over there?”
“That’s not true. Look how great you’ve been at caring for your mother.”
True.
“And don’t forget the power of a song.”
Very true.
“Music has a healing quality, you know. But you don’t have to answer yet, Lark. Just tell me you’ll think about things for a while.”
“Have you put in an application yet?”
“Yes.”
“When do you expect to have a departure date?”
“I can set my own. I can go anytime I want. The need is that great.”
Not surprising. But I needed more time. I was figuring on months and months for Johnny and me to build a relationship, much less a future.
“Listen. Bradley is coming into town Sunday, and I still haven’t told Flannery about him. Can we talk about all this next Thursday night? I’ll at least be a little less sidetracked.”
“Sure. That’s fine. I guess I was so excited about it that I didn’t think about the timing of springing it on you. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. I wish I could be more excited for you.”
He looked at me with eyes of understanding that wounded me. He deserved somebody better than me. But didn’t I say that when we first started getting interested in each other?
“I think we’d make a great team, Lark,” he said. “I’m not asking you to marry me. There’s time for that. You’ve been talking about serving God in a tangible way. This could be it. And we’d make a great team.”
That fact starched up the situation even more.
“Just think about it, okay?”
“Okay. I will.”
And then I told him about Flannery and James. I could hardly believe how the words slipped out slow yet slick, and every feeling I felt, every word I thought slipped out as well. The guilt, the shame, the anger at myself mostly. The disappointment. The fear of life without her, of a life where a husband should and would take first place.
Johnny just listened, asking questions every so often.
Finally I looked at my watch. “It’s 2 A.M.”
“I’ll run you home then.”
“You don’t have surgery in the morning, do you?”
He shook his head. “Not usually on Saturday. Unless it’s an emergency or something.”
“Your beeper’s been awfully quiet tonight.”
“Yeah.”
I wondered if he pictured a beeperless life in Africa. I think he did.
We rode home with little to say.
It was too much, too soon. I hadn’t expected this move from Johnny. Not at all.
No Africa for me, thanks. I knew that when he pulled up in the driveway. Too much existed on Greenway now. I had a tangible mission from God. Matters that needed attending to by me and only me. I refused to put anything off anymore. And I was unwilling to string Johnny along, no matter how much I cared.
I turned to him. “Johnny?”
“Yes.”
“I won’t go to Africa. I’ll have a better answer for you later as to why, but right now, I can only say I know I won’t go.”
I was so thankful I couldn’t see his face clearly in the dim interior of the car. So thankful.
“Would you still like to see each other though?”
“I’d like that a lot.”
“I’d hoped …”
“Me, too. But my life is too complicated, don’t you see? Between Mother and Flannery and now Bradley returning on the scene, I have matters to attend to.”
“Many of them.” He gripped the wheel and shook his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I was a fool for asking.”
I reached out and touched his face. “No, you weren’t. I’m honored that you wanted me to be with you.”
“Well, chalk it up to enthusiasm then.”
That was it.
Johnny didn’t bare his soul. Not that I thought he would. “I’ll see you in church on Sunday?”
“I hope so. We’ll see how Flannery accepts the news.”
“Would you …”
“Like to go out for waffles afterward?” I asked.
“Waffles?”
“Yeah, there’s a new Waffle House in Riverside. We can go eat together.”
“All the way out in Harford County?”
“Believe it or not.”
“Sounds good.”
I watched him drive away, saddened that someone like Johnny, so smart and talented, nice and caring, and all those things women are supposed to adore was too good for every single one of us.
He was positively beating himself over the head right now.
I walked by Flannery’s room, turned, and headed into the darkness. She’d escaped Greenway. She had the guts to do the right thing for a happy future.
I have to say that I realized in that moment there was nobody on earth I admired more than my daughter.
Flannery
THEY SIT IN THE KITCHEN eating breakfast when we walk in Saturday morning.
Prisma throws down her dishtowel. “Well if it isn’t the honeymooners!”
Mom rushes over and hugs me, and there are no tears. She just beams.
Grandy sips her coffee. “Welcome back to the funny farm.”
Prisma lets out a hoot.
Mom stands up. “Call it what you will, Mother. I’m just glad to see she made it off that boat.”
We laugh. And I hold James’s hand up, bend my elbow, and bring it up right next to my breast, our fingers intertwined. It’s so intimate and married-like, and I realize that I’ve never been happier in my life, right here with Jam
es and the women of Greenway.
“Now this is exactly right!” I say.
“You got that right, Baby Girl. How ’bout some coffee and one of my cinnamon buns?”
Lark
HOW COULD I TELL HER NOW?
The joy in her eyes shone exactly as it should have … bridal. She sat there before me wearing one of Mother’s old suits, a white one. Her hair was pulled back, and she looked so perfect, blushing and womanly.
She’d always done the right things.
How could I tell her now? How could I destroy that joy and drive a wedge between us now that she was finally on her own? Where would that leave me?
Well, that little piece of selfish pity decided it for me. “Let’s go into the garden, Flannery.”
She turned to James.
“Go on, babe. I’m going to eat another cinnamon roll.”
Prisma picked up the plate and stuck it in front of him. “I do like this boy, Baby Girl.”
Flannery stopped me by the door to the screened porch. “Are you at least happy for me, Mom?”
“I really am, sweetie. I was afraid you were going to make the same mistake I did.”
Flannery shook her head, confusion in her eyes. “What do you mean?”
The phone rang on the wall to her left.
“I’m expecting a call from Starbucks.” She picked it up. “You go on outside, and I’ll be there in a minute.”
I sat myself by the fishpond and waited, deciding that I’d call Bradley when they left and beg for more time. We couldn’t destroy this joy. She deserved at least a month of pure happiness. Surely I’d be able to convince him of this.
Flannery slammed out of the kitchen and marched over to me, tears streaming down her face. “Why didn’t you tell me Daddy was alive?”
“That was your father on the phone?”
My mouth dropped open.
“Yes. He called to say he was taking the earlier flight tomorrow.” Her voice sounded dead and thick. Oh, baby.
Think, Lark, think.
No answer came. Heat ignited my face. My throat closed.
Do this!
“And he asked for you, not me?”
“Of course.”
“Flannery, I was going to tell you.”
“Well, Mom, now is not the right day to find this out, is it? Good grief! I can’t even have two days in a row without you and your stupid problems haunting them!”
“Do you want me to tell you now, or do you want me to wait?”
“Tell me now. But I’ve got to tell you, Mom. I’ve been mad at you before but never anything like this.”
I could think of no appropriate response.
“Come on, Mom! Tell me! Just get it over with.”
Amid the mums, purple, white, and yellow with barely opening buds, I told her all of it. Stone faced. The circumstances of her conception. The disastrous marriage. My crazy love for her father. The infidelity. Bradley’s promise to stay away.
She said nothing. Looked down at her hands.
“Flannery, look at me.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No!”
I told her of years of struggle and pain and disappointment. Bradley’s marriage to a diabetic. His career. A whole life lived without us.
“His wife died this summer. He called me after that.”
“Oh.”
“I thought he’d come for us, sweetie. Years ago, I did. I made him promise not to find us. But I didn’t think he’d take me seriously. I don’t know why I even did that! I’ve always wondered if I asked him to promise to disappear so he’d realize how important we were to him. Right then. Right there. I thought he’d say, ‘Oh, babe. I’m sorry. I can’t bear to be without you two.’ But he didn’t bite, Flannery. He didn’t bite, and I knew I’d done the wrong thing. And then as the months wore on, I realized that maybe he really didn’t care, because what kind of father would keep a promise like that?”
She kept her face down.
“He wants to see you again, Flannery.”
“I gathered that, Mom!” Flannery jerked her head back and looked at me. I tried so hard to gauge her feelings but couldn’t. I could only see tumult in her eyes.
She ran away then.
I called after her, but I knew she wouldn’t turn around. I don’t think I would have either.
A minute later I watched her and James back the old Buick out of the garage. Prisma waved them off, and James waved back, but Flannery sat close to her new, sweet husband and wept on his shoulder.
When people say life isn’t fair, they’re exactly right.
So I went in and cried on Mother’s shoulder, and she held me for a long time. When I pulled back, she slid a hand over my hair and said, “Whatever happens, Larkspur, we’re in it together. I really mean that.”
“Do you think she’ll come around?”
“Yes.”
“What about her father?”
“Now you can leave it in his hands.”
I reached out for a cup of tea Prisma placed there during my spell of tears. “That’s not comforting.”
“Well, I know. And all you can do is wait awhile for her to come back to you.”
I sipped. “What if she never does?”
“Then you’ll seek her out. Because that’s what mothers should do.”
“Mother, would you think poorly of me if I told you I feel relieved?”
She put a hand on my knee. “You’ve been carrying this secret for a long time.”
“And now it’s out.”
“It was going to come out someday.”
“The funny thing is, I wondered if that was true. The last few years I thought I might have just pulled it off.”
“That’s when it really gets dangerous, dear.”
“You said it, Mother.”
“That Bradley’s a rat,” she said.
“He gave me enough time. But I figured I could stall him. It didn’t work.”
She sighed. “I’ll have to try to be nice, I suppose.”
“It would be best.”
She kissed my cheek. “You did the best you could, Larkspur.”
Flannery
IT WOULD BE EASY TO WONDER what I was thinking when I ran out on Mom like that. Truth was, so many thoughts whizzed around in my head, so many questions, I couldn’t focus on even one of them. All I could do was cry.
We went over to James’s apartment, well, my apartment too, and he fixed me a glass of milk and put me to bed. “Sleep, babe. You’ll be able to think about it better when you wake up.”
And then he curled up beside me until I slept. When I woke up a few hours later, he was studying his oceanography stuff at the table in the kitchen. It’s an old kitchen and an old table, and it’s on the second floor of the house his grandparents used to own. Which means I can really paint and stuff. It’s thoughts about stuff like that that are keeping me sane right now.
I’d say “My whole life has been a lie.” But not only is that melodramatic, it’s just not true. I believed a lie all of my life. That is more to the point.
I sit down across from James. “So what do you think about all of this?”
Believe it or not, earlier I was able to get out Mom’s story in fits and starts. And James listens and says, “Oh, babe,” like, a thousand times or so.
“I can see why you’re so bummed.”
“Yeah.”
“But I’ve been thinking a lot about it while you were asleep. Trying to come at it from your mom’s perspective, you know?”
I nod and reach for a McDonald’s sugar packet that sits next to the salt. “I guess. But it’s never right to lie.”
“No, I didn’t say it was. I just can’t imagine how hurt she was at the time.”
It is the only thing that keeps me from hating her.
“My father is coming into Baltimore tomorrow.”
“Are you going to see him?”
“I don’t know.”
Now isn’
t that the strangest thing? All my life I thought of how much I’d give to spend even a little bit of time with my father. And now the opportunity stands before me, and I don’t know if I want to grab it or not.
He hurt Mom badly. Just as James said. He flew down that driveway and left me behind without an argument. Believe me—believe me—when I say that it was easier when I thought he was dead.
I can’t even recall his voice now that I’ve heard it.
Leslie
I’M FEELING QUITE WELL THESE DAYS. Prisma drove me to the mall to walk around. After what happened with Flannery, we both needed to get out of the house.
“You need to be exercising now,” she said.
“Well, so do you, Prisma.”
“So let’s do it where it’s flat for now.”
That made sense. Truth to tell, Prisma makes sense most of the time.
So Saturday evening, while Lark, heartbroken to be sure, played her first wedding gig at a different church, Prisma and I went up to Towsontowne Mall.
My goodness.
I could hardly believe the variety nowadays. “Now this is the way to window-shop!”
“It sure is.”
“Look at that Bombay place. I love that picture.”
It was of a bride getting ready for her wedding.
“I do too. Makes me think of the church.”
We continued our slow stroll. “Now what is that supposed to mean?”
“We’re called the bride of Christ in Scripture.”
“Well, isn’t that perfectly beautiful!”
“It sure is.”
“My, you’re agreeable this afternoon, Prisma.”
“M’m h’m. It’s a good evening to be window-shopping with your friend.”
What a lovely thing to say.
“Have you talked to Sweet Pea since she found out?”
“Called her before we left.” Prisma nodded. “She’s taking it hard.”
“So is Lark.”
“And there Mister Bradley is sailing clear and free.”
But I wasn’t so sure. “You really think so, Prisma?”
She thought as we passed about five storefronts. “I guess not.”
“So he’s coming tomorrow.”
“I know.”
