Waking Up Joy

by Tina Ann Forkner

  Inside, I brushed past Jimmy whose eyes felt like magnets as I swept up to Carey and Reverend Wilson. I hugged her, and to my surprise, her embrace was soft and warm.

  “I love you,” I said, and I meant it. “I love you no matter who your daddy is. And Daddy loved you too. I know he did.”

  She opened her mouth to argue with me on that note, but I held a hand up to stop her.

  “Let’s not argue, Sis. I’m tired of arguing.” I reached out to pull Nanette into our circle. “Nothing can break us and the boys apart. You all are my family.”

  Nanette, who’d been surprisingly mute, started crying and Reverend Wilson produced a hankie from his pocket that I hoped was clean.

  “But one thing is going to change,” I said. I guess it was the tone of my voice that made Jimmy step out the back door, which was too bad because I would have liked for him to have heard.

  “What’s that?” Nanette asked.

  “I’ve got to stop letting you all define me.”

  “But, Joy—”

  I interrupted, which I’d learned was really the only way to get a word in edgewise with Carey. “I’m not blaming you anymore Carey. I blame myself. Just look at you with your new daddy. You don’t care what anyone thinks. You love him.”

  She cast a shy smile to the reverend, who winked at her, looking happy as a raccoon with a belly full of crawdads.

  “And you, Nanette. You are yourself every single day and you don’t care what people say about you.” She shook her head.

  “Well, I should.”

  “No, you shouldn’t,” I assured. “And the boys definitely don’t give a rip what anyone thinks. Not even us! They do whatever they want because they know we’ll still love them.”

  That even elicited a giggle from Nurse Clara sitting quietly at her kitchen table having a glass of sweet iced tea.

  “I have some thinking to do,” I said, not able to keep my eyes from the back porch where I could see the back of Jimmy’s head through the screen door. “But I’m just warning you all.”

  “Warning us? About what?” Carey looked worried.

  I smiled, realizing I wasn’t going to run anymore. Not from the accusing eyes of my siblings who would love me no matter what, not from the opinions of my parents who were gone, even though I’d seen Daddy’s ghost more than once in my life, and not from the past, which was dark and scary, but over—or at least I hoped it would be soon.

  “I’m just warning you all, another storm’s coming, and I’m not going to run from it this time.” I pictured myself huddled in the basement with Ruthie and River during the recent tornado, hiding, safe on the outside, but not inside my caged heart. That tornado had sucked the charms out of the chimney, but not the dark magic from inside of me.

  They both looked baffled. I thought Carey was about to tell me I needed a nap and Nanette looked unsure of what to say. I ignored their anxiety and gave them each a hug, imagining I heard a click of the cage door around my heart, but it was only Jimmy’s fingers around the handle of the screen door. As I walked through the living room toward the front door, I called out a thanks to Nurse Clara in the other room and walked past Jimmy, who stood like a pillar at the edge of the front door, out of Doc’s view sitting in the truck waiting for me.

  His hand gently encircled my elbow. I froze looking out the door at Doc, who was calling out to me.

  “Are you ready, beautiful? Let’s go,” Doc called, as he waved through the open window of his truck.

  I was about to step through the door, but Jimmy’s hand was still holding my elbow. His touch was so soft, I could have easily stepped from his hold and out onto the front porch, but I froze for a moment, still looking straight ahead.

  “I have the same question,” Jimmy whispered beside me, his breath warm, tickling the side of my neck. I almost wilted, swayed toward him, and nearly melted into a pool of memories when I felt the smoothness of his cheek press lightly into mine.

  I wondered how much of what I’d said to my sisters he heard after all. Taking a shaky breath, my elbow slipped from the curve of his fingers as I stepped out onto the porch and smiled at Doc, the man who had so recently saved my life, and walked away from the one who had discarded me years earlier. Why hadn’t Jimmy spoken up earlier?

  My heart was so heavy that day, as if the first signs of the storm were already upon us.

  *

  Turns out, the magic apple tree might not have been magical after all. Ruthie and I were picking flowers at the edge of the orchard in the cool of an overcast day, when we heard a huge rumble from the East of Spavinaw Junction. It wasn’t the train. Since my Daddy was hit by lightning twice, no one has to tell a Talley twice to get out of its way, but before we reached the top porch step, a thunder clap ripped the sky wide open. We both turned at the same time, Ruthie and I reaching out to steady each other, before we wobbled off the porch. I’ve never seen a bolt of lightning up close, but when I turned to look over my shoulder, I saw its zap zigzag down out of the sky until it reached the top of the magic apple tree where it exploded, sending a spray of green apples into the air and splitting the trunk of the old tree from top to bottom.

  Astonished, Ruthie and I stared at the tree that now lay open, its two halves arcing away from each other, its wound emitting smoke that circled up into the air, trailing up the way the lightning had come. Ruthie’s short gasps captured my attention and I hugged her to my side.

  “Don’t be afraid,” I told her.

  “I’m not afraid, just sad.”

  “It is sad,” I said, still recovering from the shock myself, but also not able to ignore a sense of relief that inexplicably opened inside of me. “But that old tree has served its purpose.”

  “Grandma Bess said it was lots older than her.”

  “It was,” I agreed. “But I guess it has sheltered its last first kiss.”

  Ruthie’s sharp intake of air made me smile. “Aunt Joy, how did you know?”

  I squeezed her closer to my side.

  God, I love this girl. Please give her something more than a fairytale someday.

  “I’m Aunt Joy, of course.”

  “Of course,” she whispered and leaned her head on my shoulder.

  My guilt for having slipped again and read about her first kiss with Carl in her diary wasn’t strong enough to wash away the privilege of sharing that moment with the closest thing to a daughter I’d ever have. That was another thing I realized as I stared at the tree stripped of its magic. After so many years as a so-called spinster, I wouldn’t ever be a mother, but I was a darn good Aunt.

  “It smells bad,” Ruthie said.

  “But it’s not bad,” I assured her, because I could smell the change, so close were we to the lingering smoke. It was as if a giant match had just been blown out.

  Ruthie’s Diary

  Dear Diary

  So that’s that. The charm is gone and I feel like a better person for giving it to Aunt Joy, so she could put it in the well like Grandma Bess said. Thank goodness I didn’t lose that letter! That would have been terrible. And wow. I always liked the attic better than the basement, but I never imagined we had a well down there where outlaws used to hide! I can’t wait to tell Kay when she gets back from her Dad’s. And Carl. I bet he’ll think it’s cool.

  Ever since Aunt Joy showed me the well, I’ve been thinking a lot about the mayor. It’s hard to believe he was ever as cute as Aunt Joy says he was, but I guess she still thinks so. I noticed that he’s sort of gotten old, and that started me thinking about the letter Grandma Bess left Aunt Joy and the picture of him and Aunt Joy under the magic apple tree. I know Aunt Joy is with Doc now, but last Sunday I thought I might just talk to the mayor, ask him when he was coming out to visit Aunt Joy again. I know it’s ridiculous, but I did it spontaneously.

  “Excuse me, Mayor?” I stepped in front of the ladies dressed in their squeezie shoes, shoulder pads, and wearing dark rouge on their cheeks. He smiled and gave my arm a squeeze.

 
“Ruthie. How’s your Aunt Joy?” Right on queue.

  “She’s great. Busy with her Tulip House for Girls Foundation work.”

  He nodded. “She’s really doing some good work.”

  I was just about to ask the mayor my question when mom’s friend Mary Sue’s purse caught my Bible and sent it flying to the floor. All I can say, is that sometimes God works in mysterious ways.

  The mayor picked up my Bible and started grabbing all the stuff that spilled on the floor: A purple book mark, a piece of lace Grandma Bess gave me when I was eight, a dried pansy from Aunt Joy that the mayor picked up delicately and placed back between the Bible’s pages, a photo of . . .

  Oh my word.

  The mayor’s eyes widened, then he smiled the way I think Prince Charming would smile. He stood, still holding the photo close, and handed me my Bible. I saw a lot pass over his face in that moment, and none of it was bad. I have to tell you that I realized at that moment that some fairytales take longer than others. Sometimes Sleeping Beauty doesn’t just wake up and her Prince Charming is waiting right there. Sometimes, it seemed to me, it takes a while for Prince Charming to wake up, too.

  Ruthie

  Chapter Twenty-five

  ‡

  I think I always knew it would come to this, such a strange quirk that would free me from the secrets lost in the chimney once and for all. When I look back to the splitting of the magic apple tree, the fights with Carey, the twister, the coma, the fall from the roof, the reason I made that blasted charm and hid it in the fireplace with Jimmy in the first place, and even all the way back to the days when Daddy was still alive, I had this idea that it was my responsibility to take care of the whole gosh darn Talley family. I think my Daddy unwittingly put that weight on my shoulders.

  “You have a good head on your shoulders, Joy. Take care of your brothers and sisters.”

  But that was when I was only a girl, long before I fell in love with Jimmy and our romance turned into a tragedy. Even though my brothers and sisters had all agreed to move on from their worries about the coma and my delicate state of mind, they still hadn’t wanted to hear much about my coma vision, if you want to call it that, of Daddy holding the chimney brick.

  You know what I hid in the chimney, don’t you Daddy?

  He knew, and while I wasn’t one to consult mystics or psychics, I had consulted Nurse Clara. She just sipped her iced tea and said, “Maybe he pulled that brick loose, Joy, because your secrets needed to be free.”

  I was stunned. “Clara, I think you’re right.”

  “So, what is the secret?” she said, reaching for one of the chocolate oatmeal no-bake cookies Ruthie and I’d made.

  “Nice try,” I teased.

  She chuckled. We’d been through this before and she knew I wasn’t going to tell her.

  “I’ll tell you soon,” I said, which caused a surprised smile to spread across her face.

  “I look forward to it,” she said.

  “But I have to talk to someone else first.”

  “Doc?”

  “Someone else,” I said. This caused her smile to turn down. She was partial to Kyle for obvious reasons. “I’ll tell Doc, too.”

  “Well, I’m glad,” she said. “After all, he is your boyfriend. He deserves to know before he shows you that ring I helped him pick out. Since his Momma died, he needed help, and—”

  Her voice faded as my mouth hung open.

  “Close your mouth, Joy. You’ll catch a fly.” I snapped it shut. “I’m so sorry, Joy. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

  Holy Matrimony.

  I looked down at my hand, imagining the oversized glittery rock that Kyle would no doubt have chosen. I glanced down at my tattered blue jeans and blue cotton floral shirt and imagined myself in a gauzy white dress. And yes, it would be white, no matter my past. Thelma and Mary Sue could just go suck an egg if they tried to boycott my wedding because of a white dress. And don’t think I’m joking. They’d tried it with other brides in our church before.

  “Just forget I said anything about a ring,” Clara said.

  “What ring?” I smiled, but I knew I wouldn’t forget.

  These were the thoughts that haunted me in the morning hours as I prepared the house and my unruly hair for the big fundraising dinner party for The Tulip House for Girls. I was trying to decide between a twist and a pony tail when I heard a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” I called, knowing that at this hour it had to be one of my sisters, brothers, or Ruthie.

  The knocking would not stop, so I pulled my hair into a pony tail and dashed downstairs, carrying the pair of sandals Carey gave me to match the yellow drop waist sundress I planned to wear during the fundraiser. It was going to be a good day. We’d never had a big party at the Talley home for as long as I could remember, even though its spaciousness and former grandeur seemed meant to entertain scores of people. Now it was run-down, but it had a new fireplace and a beautiful yard, so I hoped nobody would pay attention to the falling-down barn, broken shingles, or faded paint.

  Spying brown hair through the triangular window, I hurried to the blue door and flung it open, thinking Kyle had arrived early.

  “Hello, Joy.”

  I choked back my greeting. “Jimmy! I wasn’t expecting you.”

  Holy Molasses.

  His tall frame filled the doorway. His dark eyes peered down at me from a face that still made my heart flip over every time I saw him. Jimmy is one of those examples of a good looking man who just gets better with time. In his fist he held a single black-eyed Susan, its yellow petals bright against the tan of his fingers as he held it out.

  “The daffodils stopped blooming,” he said in explanation, and a part of me thought of how true it was for Momma, for Jimmy’s wife, Fern, and for us.

  I accepted the flower, noting how it bowed its head over my fingertips, and we stood there in the doorway staring at each other, me not sure whether or not I wanted to invite him in or step out onto the porch. I could see the former magic apple tree past his shoulder, its wound glaring at us from the orchard where it had once stood tall and full.

  He turned and followed my gaze.

  “It’s a shame,” he said. “It held a lot of memories.”

  The image of the photo, saved by Momma all those years, flashed in my mind like a slide projector. Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes and I looked down at my bare feet.

  “Why are you here, Jimmy?” Oh, how I wanted to throw my arms around him, press my cheek against his chest again, but I refrained. “Because I don’t have time to talk about the house right now. I have the fundraiser in a few hours.”

  Instead of answering, he asked to come in.

  “I’ll get you something to drink,” I said, happy to disappear.

  I placed the flower in a glass of water and took my time preparing a glass of tea sweetened with two full spoons of sugar, just the way I knew he liked it. He hadn’t been out for iced tea on the porch since I started getting serious with Doc. At least I knew it looked like we were serious to everyone in Spavinaw Junction, and I suppose it did to Jimmy, too. If he had any doubts, he wouldn’t after tonight, since I knew that Doc had a ring that said it was very serious.

  Jimmy accepted the glass without meeting my eyes. I sat on the other end of the couch.

  “I wanted to see how you’re doing,” he said. “We haven’t talked much since that night in the balcony.”

  My iced tea swirled inside my chest.

  “We’ve never talked about what happened in the balcony,” he said, his eyes meeting mine.

  My breath quickened.

  “Oh that,” I said, trying to look like I’d all but forgotten about that night. “Thank you for staying with me. It was a rough time for me.” I don’t know how I managed to say anything at all, because my throat was as dry as a creek bed with no rain in June. “I’ve been meaning to say that, but like you said, we haven’t talked.”

  “Joy, I’m sorry I’ve been dista
nt.”

  I laughed. I guessed he had no idea how funny that sounded, considering how distant he’d been over the years.

  “There’s something about that night that I wanted to ask you about,” he said, staring at his boots. I studied them, too. They were black with intricate stitching along the toe and up the sides to reveal fancy leather work I could see just below the hem of his jeans. They were so shiny. I wondered how he kept them that way.

  “I’m all ears, so shoot.”

  He cleared his throat and rested his elbows on his thighs. I noted how his arms strained against his shirt and how his legs set wide in front of him were still muscular through his jeans. That stirring thing in my chest swirled tighter. He was a runner, too. Yes, one more way in which he was near perfect. Who had I been kidding to think that this amazing person had missed me, his teenage girlfriend, over the years?

  He chuckled, shook his head like he was about to say something unbelievable.

  “I keep remembering this dream from that night in the church that we . . . kissed. It was a . . . vision I had, or something. But it was . . .”

  It was what? Amazing? Awesome?

  He stopped chuckling and looked at me straight on, so I decided to shoot straight with him.

  “Not everything is a vision,” I assured, thinking about my dreams during my coma, sleepwalking through memories, drifting through the present and the past and trying to figure out what was real.

  “I didn’t think so,” he said, his eyes filled with meaning that I wasn’t sure how to interpret.

  “Kyle’s going to ask me to marry him,” I blurted, feeling a measure of loyalty to the man who treated me like a queen. “Clara told me he bought a ring.”

  Jimmy’s cheeks darkened and he peered intently into the new hearth.

  Lucky sat by the fire grate staring up into the chimney, and I wondered if he missed the mess that used to be up in there. I stood and shooed him away.