Born Under a Lucky Moon

by Dana Precious

  “I have to think on this one now,” she replied. “Don’t tell anybody else yet.” I felt better when I hung up the phone but now, several days later, I was wondering when she was going to finish thinking.

  Evan came in the back door. “How’d you like the show today?”

  “It was good,” Dad said. “Subtle and interesting. Come on, Evan. It’s the big moment.” As the two of them disappeared into the backyard I heard Dad say, “I’m December fourth, 2:45 a.m., Black.”

  Lucy was awake now and lying on the couch. “Does being pregnant really make you this tired?” I inquired. “Because so far, it doesn’t look very pleasant.” Lucy didn’t answer me. The phone rang and I grabbed it.

  “Hello?”

  It was Sammie. “Pick me up at the Muskegon airport tomorrow night at 7 p.m. Bring Lucy and Elizabeth. Don’t tell them what’s happening with Anna until the car ride to the airport.”

  “Should I bring my miniature camera and spy handbook?” I joked.

  “A camera is a pretty good idea, actually,” Sammie mused.

  “Are you going to tell me what the plan is?”

  “Nope. Just be there.” Sammie hung up.

  Dad ran into the house. “Everyone! Outside! Quick!” When language like that was used in our house, everyone obeyed. Mom, Elizabeth, Lucy, Chuck, and I ran outside, where Evan and Dad were grinning like fools. Dad nodded at Evan, who flipped a switch. “Voilà!” Dad cried. The sprinklers came to life, chugging their way around in a slow circle making a “ch, ch, ch” noise. We all stood on the porch and clapped wildly. This had been years in the making. Dad smiled and then took a deep bow toward us.

  Dad and Evan strutted to the gazebo, where they congratulated each other over cigarettes. I was on lunch duty at the Blit so I couldn’t stay for the celebration. Mom was making lime Jell-O with shredded carrots and mini-marshmallows, which I definitely could live without. I was walking to work when I saw the pink notices stapled to telephone poles.

  WARNING: The Department of Natural Resources (DNR) will be treating Bear Lake with weed killer on September 9. DO NOT swim in Bear Lake or use the water on lawns or plants September 9–12!

  I ripped down one of the notices and stuck it in my purse to show to Dad. When I arrived at the Blit that day, the lunch crowd was normal since summer was over. School had started and most college kids were gone. Walker was leaving in the morning. I had traded my night shift for the day shift so we could have a last night together.

  The Squirrel Board had filled up in a hurry, and now people were taping little scraps of paper to the board to make their bets. As I sailed by with a perch sandwich, Teeni, our neighbor, called out to me. “Honey, why did you bet November thirtieth? We’ve never had a first snow on November thirtieth.”

  I called over my shoulder, “Nineteen sixty-two. Check your stats.”

  Teeni was leaning on the bar and sipping a Bloody Mary. She flipped through the Squirrel Board logbook. “Huh, you’re right. I never win anything. I guess I’m not very lucky.” She glanced out at the parking lot, straightened her Talbot’s catalogue smock top, and patted her auburn-dyed hair. Father Whippet entered the bar. “But I have been getting lucky, if you know what I mean.”

  Father Whippet headed straight for Teeni. He pulled her from the bar and over to a table.

  “Tommy,” I hissed across the bar. “Will you take their order?”

  He looked at me over his bifocals. “I do believe that’s what I hired you for.” He went back to the sports page. Father Whippet was startled to see me standing at his table with my pad and pen at the ready. He must’ve thought I had gone back to school already.

  “I’m here to counsel Katrina,” he said and patted her hand. Teeni stroked his hand with her forefinger in return. He hurriedly pulled it away. It was all I could do not to retch.

  “Do you know what you want?” I hadn’t bothered bringing menus because the locals already had everything memorized.

  “I know what I want,” Teeni said to Father Whippet meaningfully. I rolled my eyes. Teeni had been married for forty and some odd years. Her husband was a boring, high-level executive at Generated Power, and he only talked about pistons and stock prices, but still.

  “If it’s on the menu, I can help you out.” I couldn’t help the sarcasm. “Otherwise there might be other establishments that can accommodate you better.”

  “The Thompson family certainly has gotten rude lately,” Father Whippet said.

  I figured now that I had learned to use my mouth I might as well go for broke. “We’re just saying what we have always thought. Communication, as you pointed out in your last sermon, is very healthy.”

  “I’ll have the Junior BLT burger, rare.”

  “Does your wife know you’re, ah, having lunch today?” I asked as I wrote down his order. Father Whippet tried to throw his napkin down in a snit but since it was paper it just floated to the floor.

  “That’s it! Katrina, you’ll just have to receive counseling another day—perhaps when Miss Thompson has a little less to say.” I watched his Adam’s apple bob above his white collar as he swallowed hard. Then he turned on his heel and stormed out the door.

  Teeni wilted at the table. “Bring me another Bloody Mary, honey. But hold the Bloody and hold the Mary. Make the rest of it a double.”

  I was surprised at how good I felt finally saying exactly what I thought. That night I fairly danced around while I got ready for my date with Walker. I even had the bathroom to myself for once. I wore my best jeans, yellow short-sleeve shirt with the little polo player on it, and Sammie’s yellow sandals. I was all smiles when I answered the door for him. All six-foot-two of him looked and smelled good. “You ready?” He smiled back at me.

  “All set.” I grabbed my purse and followed him down the walk.

  “Feel the temperature?” He held out his hand like he was weighing the air. “It warmed up nicely today. I’m taking you somewhere I’ve never taken anyone: the last bend on the Little Manistee River.”

  As I climbed into the car I prayed that maybe he had a romantic Indian summer picnic planned. We bumped along a two-track with branches scraping the roof of the car. Finally we came to a clearing next to the river. “Here?” I asked hopefully, looking for the candles and champagne.

  “Oh no.”

  He went to the back of the car and lowered the tailgate; then he handed me what I least wanted to see. “I brought you my little brother’s waders.”

  “Gosh, thanks.” Walker completely missed the tone in my voice. I abandoned Sammie’s sandals and struggled into the waders, pulling the suspenders up over my shoulders and tightening them as much as I could. The waders still came up past my chest. My bare feet felt mucky inside of the too-large rubber boots. I was ticked off at Walker that I had spent any time on my makeup and clothes. He got out his fishing rod and tied on a fly.

  “See here?” He showed me the fly. “It’s called a Royal Humpy.” It was black and hairy with a red dot in the middle. “The trout love them.” Darkness was falling and Walker turned on his headlamp. He got into the river first, then held my hand while I slid down the bank. He walked with sure steps through the slow-moving water. I held his hand and fumbled along behind him. After a while my eyes adjusted to the darkness and I could see the outline of the trees along the bank. My foot hit a submerged branch every once in a while but I was getting the hang of it.

  “Hold on, we’re almost there,” Walker whispered. Almost where? I thought. The middle of nowhere? But I had relaxed and the night was beautiful. Stars were overhead and lending some light. Even though I hadn’t said anything, Walker said, “Shhh,” then turned out his headlamp. We stood still, letting our eyes adjust to the darkness. Then I saw them: flickers of light ahead of us, flitting in the trees, above the river, in the grass. There were thousands, perhaps millions of fireflies. It was like the secret place where fairies frolic in the forest. We waded into the glowing lights. Then Walker turned to me and tilted my head up. He kiss
ed me and I pressed into him.

  “Jeannie, will you marry me?”

  I was so startled I couldn’t help myself. “Why?”

  He laughed. “For all the normal reasons people get married.”

  I was so unprepared for this, I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even ask him if he loved me. Instead I stuttered, “Wh-What about my family?”

  Walker folded me in his arms and pulled me as close as two people can get in fishing waders. “Honey, it’ll be fine. After I graduate I’m sure I’ll get a job in some big city. We’ll still see your family at Christmas.” From where my head rested on his upper arm, I stared at the black water encircling us. Walker then gently held me out at arm’s length and regarded me. I couldn’t stand the look on his face. He was waiting, hopeful. I wanted it to feel right but it didn’t. But I didn’t want to disappoint him.

  Just then a fish jumped and Walker couldn’t help himself. He turned on his headlamp to study the size of the ripples. That’s when I saw it: the sign I didn’t know I had been waiting for. His lamplight caught the stone arch of an old bridge, and there, etched into the side in formal lettering, was my grandmother’s last name: HARMON. The Harmon Bridge. I turned to Walker.

  “Yes.”

  Ten years later, after the divorce, I explained to Mom why I had said yes in the first place. I told her about my initial misgivings in the river but then I had seen it, The Sign From Above, the bridge with her family name on it. Mom ducked her head and her shoulders started heaving. I thought she was crying, until she lifted her head. Her eyes were brimming with tears but it was because she was laughing so hard. I didn’t see what was so funny.

  “Oh, my little sunshine,” she gasped and patted my knee. “Didn’t you know that my mother was the most divorced woman in Jones County, Texas? It was a sign, all right—a sign to run the other way!”

  After a beat, I started laughing, too. We howled until we cried right there on the glider, to the point where every neighbor probably wondered what was so damn humorous.

  The evening after Walker and I got engaged, Elizabeth, Lucy, and I headed for the airport. I hadn’t told anyone about the engagement yet. I was still getting used to the idea. Instead we talked about the situation with Anna.

  Elizabeth said, “We’ve never done anything bad to her.”

  “We’ve never done anything nice either,” Lucy said.

  Sammie’s plane arrived and she climbed in the car after throwing her suitcase in the trunk. At our expectant faces she simply said, “Meijer’s. We need supplies.” She filled us in on her plan as we drove. We got to Meijer’s and bought firewood, lighter fluid, and matches. When it was good and dark, we snuck in to Evan and Anna’s enormous backyard. We lugged the wood to the edge of Bear Lake. Then we searched in the dark for fallen tree branches and piled those on, too. I poured the lighter fluid on the pile while Sammie unzipped her suitcase and pulled out what looked to be a very large piece of canvas. She threw it on the grass, then dug back in her suitcase and produced five candles. Then she unrolled the canvas. It was so dark I could barely make out her or what was written on her “artwork.”

  “What’s it say?” I asked.

  “Be quiet,” Elizabeth hissed, “or it won’t work.” Sammie tapped my shoulder, the signal for me to light the fire. I threw match after match on it until the bonfire blossomed into the sky.

  “How are we going to get her to wake up so she sees all this?” I asked.

  Sammie’s response was to pick up rocks from the edge of the lake and hand them to Lucy. “You’re the best shot.”

  Lucy started heaving rocks at the second-floor window we knew to be Evan and Anna’s bedroom. They bounced off the glass, but no lights went on. Then we saw a shape at another window, the one next to their bedroom. Anna was sleeping in the guest room. She opened the window and peered out at the bonfire in her yard.

  We were facing the house with Bear Lake to our back and the bonfire between the house and us. “Now!” Sammie commanded. Each of us four girls grabbed an edge of the canvas and held it up so Anna could read it. It said, WE LOVE YOU, ANNA. WILL YOU BE OUR SISTER? The bonfire lit our faces and the written message. The flames shot up a good eight feet. It was really about the most impressive bonfire any of us had ever made, I thought with satisfaction.

  Anna stood there with her hands on the window ledge for a good long time, and then she disappeared. We dropped the sign and waited.

  “Think she’s coming?” Lucy asked as we all exchanged worried looks.

  Then the door opened, and Anna ran across the lawn.

  “Hit the button!” Sammie yelled. I bent over and hit PLAY on the boom box. Anna stopped in front of the four of us. We looked at her expectantly and she looked back at us. Then the music started, loud enough to wake up the county. “We are fam-i-ly! I’ve got all my sisters with me!” Sammie handed us all candles and Elizabeth, Lucy, Sammie, and I lit our candles from the bonfire. Anna stood apart from us holding her candle. We circled her and we lit her candle with the four of ours.

  “We are fam-i-ly. I’ve got all my sisters with me. Get up everybody and sing!” We obeyed. The firelight danced off our bobbing faces and flashing feet and hips. When the music ended, we collapsed in a gasping, laughing heap in the grass.

  Anna turned her face toward Sammie. “You came all the way back for me?”

  “Yep.”

  “You are all crazy—you know that, right?” But Anna’s voice had a smile. “But I like that about you. I like being a part of your family. And I love Evan.” She sighed happily. “If he’ll have me back, I can’t wait to start to make our own family.”

  “So no Florida?” I rolled over and asked.

  “Nope. I just want to have a baby, like Elizabeth and Lucy.”

  Lucy’s voice came out of the shadows. “I’m not pregnant anymore.”

  We sat straight up.

  “I lost it before I got home.” Lucy’s voice was barely audible. I reached across the grass for her hand and squeezed it. “I didn’t tell anyone because I’m tired of feeling like one big apology. I wish I could scrub off every bad thing that’s happened to me and make myself all shiny and new.”

  Anna put her arms around Lucy. I put my head in my hands and thought about why my twenty-one-year-old sister, who had just graduated first in her class, felt like she was all used up. Anna jumped up. “Into the car,” she instructed, “all of you.”

  It wasn’t a night to ask what was going on. The four of us just did what she said. She drove to the bridge over the Bear Lake channel and parked. We all got out and looked at Anna for guidance. She pulled her shirt over her head and then dropped her sweatpants. “It’s time for a baptism, or, as Evan would put it, a spiritual rebirth. A new start.”

  Lucy giggled for the first time since she got home. Then she pulled off her clothes, too.

  “No way,” Elizabeth pronounced.

  “Yes way!” Sammie threw off every single stitch. I, more sedately, stripped to my bra and underwear.

  “I’m pregnant, you know,” Elizabeth said, stalling.

  “You dove in to the country club pool last week!” I said.

  Reluctantly, Elizabeth followed us as we clambered up onto the wide stone railing and looked down at the dark water ten feet below us. Without speaking, we joined hands.

  Anna counted, “One, two, three!”

  We launched ourselves into the night. After a delirious drop, the water closed over us. The shock of the cold took my breath away. I counted heads. We were all here and Lucy was laughing and sputtering and splashing Elizabeth. When the spotlight hit us, we all looked up at the bridge. Marv Carson called out, “I should have guessed it was you guys.” The radio in his patrol car crackled and he went to respond to it. The five of us treaded water. We couldn’t get out to retrieve our clothes while Marv was there. His face reappeared at the bridge railing. “Hey, Anna? You interested in the fact that the big, old oak tree in your yard is on fire?”

  Anna gasped.
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  “Welcome to the family, Anna,” Sammie said happily.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  May 2006

  Lucy begged me to take the afternoon off work to see Sammie and Elizabeth with her. Sitting behind my desk listening to her on my phone headset, I held my hand out level in front of my face. It didn’t appear to be trembling. I took that as a good sign that my outsides weren’t reflecting my insides. Steadfastly I refused Lucy. “I cannot take one more emotional drama today, Lucy.” Aidan hadn’t answered my phone calls or emails begging him to call me. His assistant kept telling me he “wasn’t available.”

  My sister remained silent on the other end of the line. As a lawyer, she was probably trying to come up with an alternate line of reasoning.

  “They are both completely pissed off at me. I can’t have a big emotional makeup session with them today,” I said.

  “They are angry with you because you always miss family gatherings,” Lucy finally said tartly, “which is exactly what you are doing yet again today. You know I have to leave tomorrow. It’s not like we’ll have more time to see each other all together later.”

  “Lucy, I just can’t,” I murmured.

  “Fine. If I mean that little to you, then I’ll just pack up my stuff and go stay tonight on Sammie’s couch.”

  I didn’t get a chance to respond because she hung up the phone on me. With my thumb and forefinger I rubbed at the bridge of my nose, where I felt a headache forming. I had hit the perfect trifecta: all three of my sisters were furious with me at the same time.

  My computer pinged at me announcing an instant message. Caitlin was letting me know that Jeffanie from Jet Fuel were on the line. Pushing my sisters out of my mind, I answered the phone.

  Jeff Cross’s voice came over my headset. “Stephanie and I decided we’re not coming for the photo shoot after all.”

  “May I ask why not?” I said a bit too sharply. The Jet Fuel shoot was in four days. Without Jeff Cross chances were good that the rest of the cast would also back out. The posters were already four months late. And now Jeff was canceling.