“The Lord blessed each of our lives with the gift of knowing and loving Alice. Now, He has taken her home to be with Him. Those who remember her, who loved her, walk with heavy hearts today, but we must also remember that Alice has been freed from the heavy chains of this world. She now walks with the Lord and shall dwell peacefully within His house for all eternity. Until the day we meet again…”
The preacher’s kind words were carried on the icy wind and John listened carefully to each one. Amidst them, a thousand memories reminded him of why he felt such loss. A thousand more reminded him of the void which now filled the desolate chambers of his heart. He stood rigid, conscious not to sway, and nearly snickered when the pastor mentioned “forgiveness.”
While John fought back the tears that burned to be free, the preacher’s drone drifted and became distant. John tried comforting himself with his own thoughts, but the ache in his heart was worse than anything he’d ever imagined. I’m nothin’ without Alice by my side, he thought, and the pain made him want to join her.
The preacher continued to talk above the sniffles. John glanced down at the scarred earth where friends had dug the hole. Beside his parents, Alice’s pine casket was about to be committed. A roll of old burlap covered the hole, while a mound of dirt mixed with snow sat behind them. Interrupting his own prayer, John questioned the Lord. Why ain’t there another hole dug beside her, Father? It don’t make no sense. It ain’t natural for Alice to be layin’ here alone.
John understood the cycles of life and had always been as comfortable with death as he was with life, but putting Alice in the ground alone was a tough one. I got no purpose walkin’ this earth without my wife matchin’ every step. God, how I wish I was layin’ right there beside her in our eternal bed. He became entranced in the fantasy.
Shoulder-to-shoulder, Hank, Elle, Evan and Tara stood across the casket from the old man. In his most difficult hour, Grampa John needed to stand alone and they respected him for it.
Elle rubbed Hank’s back, comforting her husband and ignoring her own pain. She loved Alice, too. In fact, for years, she loved her like her own mother. Then, when the illness took hold and caused the kind woman to live more in the past than the present, Elle loved her like one of her own children. Either way, the depth of the love never changed. At the end, though—just before Alice passed on—Elle prayed for closure. Realizing the harshness of such hopes, she wanted an end to everyone’s suffering once and for all. It had nothing to do with loving her motherin-law any less. It had to do with peace. Mercifully, the Lord finally answered her prayers.
Denying herself the permission to mourn just yet, she continued to rub Hank’s back and whisper things in his ear that only he could hear. There will be time for me to cry later, she decided.
Hank stared at the beautifully carved casket and played the same reel of his mother over-and-over in his mind: He remembered watching her slave away for years in the house. She washed clothes by hand, hung them out and warned Hank, “You best stay clear.” Most of the time, he minded her. She canned vegetables, never stopped cooking and was usually busy working on one of her quilts. She was non-stop. Her routine was no easier than Pa’s, only she was being monitored by the ghosts that watched from frames on the parlor walls.
She was also in charge of haircuts, and what a treat they were. If Hank didn’t squirm and fuss, she’d rinse out the bowl when she was through hacking him up and fill it with a few scoops of cherry Jell-O. Hank loved rubbing the new fuzz at the back of his head, as he sucked the sweet slime through his teeth.
Ma was also the self-appointed boss of hygiene. Every Saturday, for sure, and sometimes once during the week—depending on how much dirt had accumulated—she’d draw him a bath. Hank loved that old porcelain tub. It was like climbing into a swimming pool, with lion’s claws holding up its weight. Ma would leave him be for awhile, then call out, “Cover up your privates. I’m comin’ in.” With strong hands, she’d wash his hair, all the while complaining, “I swear there’s more water on the floor than in the tub!”
He could still see her sneaking dinner up to his room when he was punished, never thinking any less of him for misbehaving; and the wedding ring—from her own finger—that she gave Elle at the breakfast table the morning after he and Elle had eloped. He would never forget the way she always found time to talk, or better yet—to listen; and the ways in which she showered his children with love. The list went on and so did the invisible projector in his head.
Hank struggled to stop it, but the movie kept playing and the emotions he fought to contain finally overwhelmed him. As Elle rubbed his back, telling him, “It’s okay, hon, let it out,” the dam burst wide open. Hank’s whimpers could be heard above them all. Although he was bawling like a child, his embarrassment was suddenly replaced by another truth. This was not a physical pain that he felt. It was his heart and it was breaking. It didn’t matter that he was weeping in front of people. It don’t matter what anyone thinks, he thought. There was great freedom in it.
Hank looked across the casket and noticed his father standing strong. “Pa’s mask is still set in place,” he mumbled under his breath. As Elle leaned in to hear what her husband was trying to say, he added, “I ain’t ever been no match for him, but it don’t matter no more.” For the first time, Hank felt sorry for his father.
Evan listened to his father’s labored sighs and childish sobs. Like a contagious disease passed on by the wind, to his surprise he could feel the man’s pain. With all the resentment he held toward his father, his heart still bled for him. Looking to his side, it amazed him how pain could be such a cohesive bond in bringing people closer together. The bottom line was—they were family. Beyond their differences and hard feelings, they shared a common love and the pain that came from losing it. He’d always thought of his father as being lazy—in a fearful sort of way. Now, he just felt bad for him. Evan realized that his love for his father was stronger than his own pride. He placed his hand upon his pa’s trembling shoulder. Allowing his own tears loose, his mind suddenly flashed Carley’s smiling face. His body shuttered at the unexpected picture, as he realized that the woman he thought was his soul mate had already become nothing more than a bad memory.
Tara huddled against her brother. As the pastor spoke, her thoughts jumped from Lila to Bryce to the possible reasons Georgey didn’t make it to the funeral. Her mind was everywhere and she felt a wave of anxiety wash over her. Her life was in complete shambles, but looking around she discovered that Evan had been right. She wasn’t alone. There was pain etched into every face. All I want is a drink, she thought. Her body craved it terribly. She looked across the casket and noticed Grampa John’s mouth moving. He’s whispering something to Grandma, she realized. That was it. She lost it.
Trapped in his own bitterness, anger and sorrow, John stared at his wife’s coffin. Suddenly, Alice’s bony finger nudged him hard in the back, causing goose bumps to cover his body. It’s her touch, he knew. I’d never miss it. The strong smell of lilac wafted in the air. She’s tryin’ to tell me somethin’.
As if he’d been blinded for days, his eyes reached across the casket and rested upon his family. He gasped at the sight of them. Quickly studying each face, for the first time he could see the pain—and it wasn’t only from grieving the loss of Alice. The entire family was broken. He could feel it as plain as Alice’s message on his back. They were all slumped over from the weight of the cross they each carried. How could I have been so blind? he thought, kicking himself for missing it. If there had been a second hole, he would have endured his own grief and buried their pain instead. His concern had already shifted.
John continued to study their eyes. It was clear. The very fabric of their lives had become stained and tattered. The look on the two young ones only confirmed John’s beliefs of the world beyond the mountains. Like a cruel dream grinder, it’s chewed ‘em up and spit ‘em out.
Their parents weren’t in any better shape. Hank could barely stand, while Ell
e neglected her own needs—as usual—and tended to him. John felt Hank’s pain and cringed over the doubts of being able to heal the one who needed it most. He shook his head. The quilt that Alice spent so many years on is unravelin’ at the seams, he thought. No wonder she kept pokin’ me until I opened my eyes. While she struggled so hard to remember her own life, her family was all fightin’ to forget their own. He felt one more nudge in the back and grinned. “I know, Alice. I know,” he said aloud. Others glanced nervously at the outburst. John’s grin scared them more.
The preacher had just finished his sermon when John dropped to both knees and spoke to his wife. “I see now, squaw. Seems I still got some chores that need tendin’ to.” He placed his lips to the frozen casket and kissed her. “You’re right, as usual. There’s some mendin’ to be done. So leave the porch light on for me and I’ll be along when I’m through.” Standing slowly, he straightened out his back and steeled himself for the chores ahead of him. I still got a few more miles to go, he decided. And it looks like I’ll be travelin’ all the way to hell to reclaim these kids. It was time to take them back from the evils of society.
As John made his way across the tiny cemetery, Doc Schwartz stopped him. “My sincerest sympathies, Big John. To tell the truth, I’m a little concerned about your health right now. I’d like to come by and give you a thorough…”
John raised his hand and halted the kind gesture. “Much obliged, doc, but I reckon I’m gonna be too busy for a spell. Got a lot of work that needs my full attention.”
Schwartz attempted an objection, but stopped. Big John’s face looked as serious as death. He was clearly on a mission.
Hank, Elle, Evan and Tara watched as the old man approached them. Looking into Elle’s eyes, John pointed down at her jacket. “You best start takin’ care of yourself and button up. You’ll catch your own death, if you don’t start lookin’ after yourself.”
Elle smiled. His eyes never once left hers. He wasn’t talking about any coat.
Leaning into Hank’s ear, John whispered, “Ain’t no shame in cryin’ when there’s reason for it. Believe me, I wish I had the guts.”
Hank’s brow wrinkled. No one heard their new secret and from his reaction, Hank wasn’t sure he had either. “Pa must be losin’ his marbles,” he whispered under his breath.
Evan and Tara waited. They were next. The old man turned, walked five feet, then spun back around. “And as far as you two…you can just wipe the frowns off them faces right now! Take it from your grandma, it’ll all be over ‘fore you know it.” He looked back at his wife’s coffin and shook his head. “In the end, all we have is our memories…good or bad…and your attitudes will decide which. You best start puttin’ more effort in.” The sharp words stung like a slap, but getting reacquainted to Grampa John’s penetrating gaze hurt even more. They watched as he trudged through the snow back to the house. Even Three Speed stayed clear of him. Grampa John was back, and he was angry.
Pressed Pennies
Rick and Abby grew up together, became best friends, and ultimately fell in love. Circumstance tore them apart in their early teens, though, and they went on to lives less idyllic than they dreamed about in those early days. Rick has had a very successful career, but his marriage flat-lined. Abby has a magical daughter, Paige, but Paige’s father nearly destroyed Abby’s spirit.
Now fate has thrown Rick and Abby together again. In their early thirties, they are more world-weary than they were as kids. But their relationship still shimmers, and they’re hungry to make up for lost time. However, Paige, now nine, is not nearly as enthusiastic. She’s very protective of the life she’s made with her mother and not open to the duo becoming a trio. Meanwhile, Rick has very little experience dealing with kids and doesn’t know how to handle Paige. This leaves Abby caught between the two people who matter the most to her. What happens when the life you’ve dreamed of remains just inches from your grasp?
Pressed Pennies is a nuanced, intensely romantic, deeply heartfelt story of love it its many incarnations, relationships in their many guises, and family in its many meanings. It is the most accomplished and moving novel yet from a truly great storyteller of the heart.
A Note from the Author
Pressed Pennies is one of my favorite works because it’s so personal to me. And if I didn’t admit to that, then I’m fairly certain that my wife, Paula, would have my neck. At its foundation, Pressed Pennies is autobiographical. After both suffering failed marriages, Paula and I were blessed with a second chance at love. Just like Rick and Abby, we met at the party of a mutual friend. And from the moment we laid eyes on each other, the adventure had begun. Although Rick and Abby’s details are completely fictional, the feelings are the same. As a writer, my greatest goal is always to make my readers feel. By placing myself within the scene, I have a much better shot at successfully pulling that off.
In Pressed Pennies, before Rick and Abby have a shot at “happily ever after,” Abby’s daughter Paige must accept the new man in her mom’s life. And this acceptance does not come easy.
The excerpt I’ve chosen to share depicts Abby and Rick’s first “official” date. While the passionate couple go off and spend a magical night together, Paige is thrown into a negative spiral—offering a glimpse of the rough and challenging road ahead for all three of them.
An excerpt from Pressed Pennies
While Abby straightened out her hair for her first “official date,” she watched as her pouting daughter stepped up behind her in the mirror.
“Just the two of us, huh?” Paige said, angrily. “I should’ve figured it out that day at the Mexican restaurant.” She put her hands on her hips. “So how long have you been seeing him?”
Abby spun around to meet Paige’s glare. “First off, watch your tone with me. You’re my daughter, not my mother. Secondly, I didn’t see him for months. And if you want to know the truth, I made the decision not to see him until things settled down around here.” She nodded. “And they have, Paige. You’re seeing your dad on a regular basis now, the arguments have stopped, and you and I have finally settled into a nice routine.”
Paige continued to shake her head, undeterred by her mother’s logic.
“Oh, I see,” Abby snapped. “It’s okay for your dad…” She stopped, knowing that she’d already said enough, and that travelling another step down that slippery slope was a mistake. She grabbed Paige’s hand. “Paige, listen to me good. Your father and I are not getting back together.” She shook her head. “It’s never going to happen, babe.”
“I know that, Mom. I do. But this isn’t about you and Dad. It’s about me and you.” She started crying, and tried to yank her hand free from her mother’s grip.
Abby held on tight. “Oh, Paige, nothing or no one could ever come between me and you. Don’t you know that?”
“Yeah right.”
“That is right! And you need to believe that as much as you’ve ever believed anything I’ve ever told you.” She pulled her daughter into a hug. “Okay?”
For a while, Paige said nothing.
“Okay?” Abby repeated, hugging her daughter even tighter.
“Okay,” Paige relented.
A half hour later, Kelsie, the babysitter arrived. Ten minutes after that, the doorbell rang again. That must be Richard, Abby thought, and headed for the front door. Paige made a beeline for her bedroom, where the door slammed behind her. Abby shook her head and waited a few moments to collect herself. As she answered the front door, she found Rick standing there, holding two bouquets of flowers. “Hi,” she said, and gestured that he come in.
“Hi,” he said. “You look beautiful, as usual.”
She nodded her appreciation.
He handed her the first bouquet. “For you,” he said. “And this one’s for Paige,” he added, handing her the second bouquet.
Abby sighed at the sweet gesture. “Thank you,” she said. “Have a seat while I put them in water and grab my purse.”
“Is Paige
home?” he asked, stepping into the living room.
“She’s in her room,” Abby said, without further explanation.
Abby hurried into the kitchen and grabbed two vases from the cupboard beneath the sink. After filling them with water, she placed both arrangements on the kitchen table and then headed off to Paige’s room.
Paige was lying on her bed, wearing head phones.
“I’m leaving, babe,” Abby announced.
Paige continued to mouth the words from a song.
Abby bent over and pulled the headphones off Paige’s ears. “I said I’m leaving,”
“I heard you,” Paige said, avoiding any eye contact.
“I have my cell phone with me, so if you need me for anything make sure you call, okay?”
Paige nodded and started to place the headphones back onto her head.
“There are two bouquets of flowers on the kitchen table, and one of them is for you,” Abby told her.
Paige said nothing, and continued to stare off into space.
“I don’t get a kiss?” Abby asked.
After an awkward moment, Paige got to her knees and kissed her mother’s cheek.
“I love you very much,” Abby said.
“I know,” Paige muttered.
“You’d better,” Abby said, and planted a big wet one on Paige’s forehead.
Without another word—or any eye contact—Paige placed the headphones back onto her head and began mouthing song lyrics again.
Abby walked out of the room and met Kelsie in the hallway. “Call me if she doesn’t break out of her funk,” Abby whispered.
The girl nodded. “She’ll be fine, Mrs. Soares.”
Abby nodded her appreciation before stepping into the living room. “You ready to go?” she asked Rick.
He placed a framed photo of Paige back onto the end table and smiled. “I am,” he said, and stood up from the couch.
Goodnight, Brian Page 23
