Love Me Forever

by Muriel Jensen

  Sandy glanced up in surprise. “I don’t even notice noise anymore. The girls are always giggling or shrieking. My head rings continually.” She turned toward Stella, who stood in the yard near one of the tables and held up two fingers. “Okay, guys. Two more, then maybe we can have coffee and a piece of cake.”

  Grateful for the rare sunny day in the coastal Oregon spring, Sandy smiled at the sight of her daughter and her daycare and neighborhood guests wearing their jackets and the plastic superhero capes she’d provided. She had fashioned the capes out of tarps she’d cut to shape, Bobbie had painted familiar superhero symbols on them, and all they’d had to do was convince the children to turn the capes around to the front when they sat down to eat.

  Dylan, Bobbie’s eleven-year-old nephew by marriage who was helping keep order by tossing balls and leading races around the yard, frowned at Sandy. “Now those superhero capes are just bibs,” he accused.

  Sandy whispered back, “Yes, but no one’s noticed yet, so please keep it to yourself.”

  “Hmm. Trickery. Sweeet!” Dylan was clever and observant, and surprisingly patient with the younger children, unlike Sheamus, who found them childish from his lofty eight-year-old perspective.

  The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.” Dylan ran off while Sandy went out into the yard to investigate a sudden scream that rang out above the din. By the time Sandy reached a boy and girl throwing punches while rolling over each other in the grass, Stella was pulling them apart.

  “What happened?” Sandy asked, drawing the boy toward her and dabbing what looked like a smear of blood on his forehead. Mercifully, it was only frosting.

  Towheaded and freckled, Danny Hankins jabbed a finger at the sturdy girl with blunt-cut dark hair who was fuming. “She kissed me!” he shouted in disgust.

  Stella bit back a laugh. Sandy, relieved nothing worse had happened, tried to sound reasonable. “But a kiss is a nice thing. Why would you punch her?”

  “Because when I wouldn’t kiss her, too, she punched me! I was just offending myself.”

  “Defending yourself. Molly.” Sandy leaned over the little girl, whose eyes betrayed hurt under the anger. Considering her own situation, Sandy felt a certain sympathy for her. “It isn’t nice to hit. And you can’t make somebody kiss you. They have to want to.”

  “Well. You do understand that.” A taunting male voice made Sandy straighten. She looked up into Hunter’s smile. He wore jeans and a dark blue T-shirt with the Raleigh & Raleigh emblem on the pocket.

  “Hello, Hunter.” Her tone was polite but stiff. She noticed a giant package held against his side. “What on earth...?”

  He swung a red kiddie car, large enough for a child to ride in, out from under his arm. His smile developed an edge. “If you can tolerate me long enough to let me wish your daughter Happy Birthday, I promise not to stay.”

  “Wow!” Danny put a pudgy hand up to stroke the car’s bumper.

  “That’s mine!” Addie declared with four-year-old vehemence, arriving at his side in a flash, wearing her tiara. She looked up at Hunter, avarice in her eyes. “Isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is.” He put it down on the grass, having to urge the growing circle of children around them to back up. Addie climbed right into it and uttered a little scream of delight. “My car!” she squealed, and heartlessly ripped off the rainbow-striped bow stuck to the windshield.

  “Your car.” He squatted to point out the controls to her. Then he indicated the walkway that ran all around the yard and protected the flowers growing against the stockade-style fence. “It’ll work best on the walkway. You can’t go out of the yard with it or it’ll stop working. Okay?”

  Sandy had to appreciate his instructions. He turned to her, his expression neutral. “Can she take it for a spin?”

  “How fast does it go?”

  “Two and a half miles per hour.”

  “Then, yes.”

  “Okay.” Hunter lifted Addie out and she squealed in protest as he carried the kiddie car to the walkway. She ran behind him and climbed back in the moment he placed it on the stone strip. “Please be careful with the flowers. And watch when you get to the corner so you can make the turn. That’s what real drivers do.”

  Addie was off, the mob of children deserting their cake to follow her, screaming their delight at this new excitement and pleading for their chance to ride. Hunter turned to greet his mother, then Loretta and Bobbie. “Good afternoon, ladies. Addie invited me.”

  Bobbie indicated Addie behind the wheel of her car. “Addie’s thrilled that you’re here, and it’s her party, after all.”

  Addie did three circuits of the yard before she stopped, her eyes sparkling and her cheeks flushed.

  “Do you want to let your friends have a ride?” Sandy asked, already knowing the answer.

  “No.” Addie’s reply was clear and concise.

  “But they’re your guests.”

  “No.”

  “Everyone brought you presents. It would be nice if you let everyone...”

  “No.”

  “When you go to their houses,” Hunter said, “they’ll let you play with their stuff if you let them play with yours today.”

  Addie thought about that. “No,” she finally said.

  Danny hung over her. “You can have my spy nightscope for a day if I can ride your car around the yard just one time.” Danny could often be seen in front of his home after dark, night goggles on, their pop-up spotlight activated. Addie lusted after them. Sandy had a mental image of the two of them off on a spy mission in Addie’s car and with Danny’s goggles.

  Addie thought again, then looked into his face, her expression fierce. “Promise?”

  “Promise.” He crossed his heart and held his palm up in an oath.

  She climbed up and shouted orders as Danny climbed in. “You can’t hurt the flowers, and you have to go slow there.” She pointed to the corner.

  Danny rode off, the children running the perimeter with him.

  “That was good, Addie,” Sandy praised, though her daughter had made the good choice out of greed, not generosity. But, truth be told, Sandy still made some of her own decisions that way. “Look at how much fun your friends are having.”

  Addie caught up with the crowd of cheering children as Danny navigated the turn, slowing as instructed, before heading toward the house.

  “Well.” Stella patted her son on the shoulder. “Nice present, Hunter, but we’ll need some help organizing the children into a peaceful taking of turns. Otherwise, we’ll have to call in the National Guard.”

  “Sure.” He beckoned Dylan and Sheamus, who were watching the scramble from the middle of the yard. They ran to him.

  “You guys up to helping me organize the little guys into having turns in the car?”

  “Sure.” Dylan did a stair-step motion with one hand. “We can line them up by size and let the smallest ones go first. They make the biggest noise when they don’t get what they want.”

  Hunter patted him on the shoulder. “Great idea.” He smiled at Dylan’s mother, his eyes sliding over Sandy without appearing to notice her. “You ladies take a break. We have this handled.”

  Doubtful, Sandy remained where she stood. “Ah...”

  Stella caught her arm and pulled her toward the house. “He can do it. Let’s go have some coffee.”

  In the kitchen, Loretta lined up four brightly striped mugs and poured while Bobbie pushed Sandy toward the table and cut four pieces of cake.

  “Your son seems good with children,” Loretta said as she placed a steaming mug in front of Stella.

  Stella added a dash of cream to her cup and looked up, a smile quickly banishing the hint of sadness in her eyes. Sandy knew she longed for grandchildren. She must know by now, that her son had little intention of giving her any.
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  “That’s because he hasn’t entirely grown up. Oh, he’s responsible in many ways, but he has a side that will probably never mature.”

  Bobbie distributed cake while Loretta followed with scoops of ice cream, then sat across from Sandy. “The best people have an active inner child. Sandy does.” She grinned across the table at her friend. “Right, Sandy? Didn’t you just take the world’s most impulsive action by buying a coffee cart?”

  “I heard about that!” Stella looked up from a bite of cake. “What are you going to call it? It’s Crazy for Coffee now, isn’t it?”

  “It is.” Striving to show the good cheer she felt only occasionally now, rather than the panic that overtook her in the silence of midnight, Sandy nodded with manufactured confidence. “I’m going to keep the name—at least for now. I’ve got lots of cups, napkins, stirring sticks and bags with the logo on them. It’ll be nice to not have a rebranding expense right away.”

  Stella nodded approvingly. “That’s sensible. What time will you be opening in the mornings? I mean, you have to be ready for the really early crowd, right?”

  “I do.” Sandy sighed. “The current owner opens at 5:00.”

  Everyone groaned.

  “I know, right? Mom’s going to help me with the girls in the morning.”

  “That’s so good of you, Loretta,” Bobbi said. “You deserve another scoop of ice cream.”

  Loretta caught her hand to prevent her from getting up. “Thank you, but I’m stuffed. The mac and cheese and hot dogs were quite a feast.” She patted a flat stomach, then smiled fondly in Sandy’s direction. “Sandy’s been a pretty special daughter. I owe her.”

  “My son does my taxes,” Stella said, her chin on her hand. Her eyes twinkled with amusement. “So, he’s pretty special, too. And I do my best to make it an experience for him. His accountant’s mind wants the world to be orderly, and I try to show him another way. When he can’t create order, he blames and punishes himself.”

  “Are you talking about the embezzlement thing?” Bobbie asked.

  Stella nodded, anger now betraying the amusement in her gaze. “Mostly. He loved that woman. She cheated on him and ran off with everything he had. I have a detective on the case, but don’t mention it to Hunter. He can’t afford one and he didn’t want me to spend my money on one. All part of that doing-it-all-himself thing. When I think about Jennifer, I get mad enough to murder. Hunter is trying not to have revenge distract him, just to get everything paid off. I have no such compunction.”

  A shriek rent the air, followed by the sound of sobs and Dylan came running toward the house. Sandy went out to meet him, with her mother and friends behind her.

  “Kaylee Palmer from up the street rode over Addie’s foot,” he said, following as Sandy raced toward the knot of children. Hunter stood in the middle, kneeling over her daughter. He had Addie’s pink tennis shoe off and was gingerly manipulating her toes and instep. Kaylee stood a step away looking frightened and defensive. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t,” Sandy said, putting her hands at Addie’s waist to take her from Hunter. “Are you okay, Ad?”

  Addie brushed her hands away, keeping a death grip on Hunter’s arm, clearly upset by the interruption in her party. Her tiara was crooked.

  Fighting a severe case of hurt feelings and complete annoyance, Sandy stepped aside as Hunter lifted Addie off the grass. He held the small foot out for Sandy to examine.

  “I think it’s okay,” he said, rubbing a thumb over Addie’s instep as Sandy’s fingertips probed. She noted absently that his thumb was as long as the width of Addie’s foot. “She seems able to move it with no problem. I don’t think anything’s broken. Probably just bruised.”

  Zoey, standing beside Hunter, reached up to touch her ever-present wand to her sister’s foot. “Make it better!” she ordered the universe.

  As though responding to instant intervention, Addie wiggled her toes.

  “Can you walk on your foot, sweetheart?” Sandy asked, holding on to Addie’s hand as Hunter put her down. Except for a slight hobble because she had one shoe on and one shoe off, she appeared fine. She even pushed Kaylee aside, straightened her tiara, and climbed into the car.

  Sandy stopped her before she could take off. “No. No more car for the moment. Let’s finish our cake and play some games. Come on, Kaylee. Everything’s okay. Let’s go back to the table.”

  “But I want...” Addie tried to wriggle away, pointing to the bright red car.

  “No,” Sandy said firmly. “Not right now. Hunter will park it in the garage with my car, and you can ride it later. Did all the kids get a turn?”

  Hunter nodded. “Kaylee was taking a second turn, Addie was chasing her down and that’s how it happened.”

  “Okay. Come on, girls.”

  Liking the idea that her car would live in the garage beside her mother’s, Addie went peacefully back to her cake. Kaylee followed.

  * * *

  HUNTER PICKED UP the car and carried it through the kitchen, into Sandy’s garage. Sandy and her friends were now settling the children back around the tables and his mother was taking photos.

  Hunter opened the door to the garage and flicked the light switch. Nothing happened. With the smells of mustiness, laundry detergent and fertilizer in his nostrils, he sidled carefully around Sandy’s Volkswagen to the tool bench, where an emergency light hung from the rafter above. He switched it on, bathing garden tools and storage tubs in a harsh light.

  Hunter went to the stationary tub between the washer and dryer on the other side of the car, pulled a handful of paper towels from the rack above it and wet them under the faucet. He wiped sticky fingerprints and smudges off the red plastic car, then placed it on the built-in workbench. He couldn’t help but smile at the messy toolbox that stood on one side of the table. He’d given the toolbox to Sandy last Christmas.

  She had amazing skill with tools. He didn’t consider women less capable than men in any aspect of life, but in his experience, most women were happy to let a man fix house things if one was available. He’d watched Sandy tackle plumbing, simple wiring and basic carpentry on her own, to great success. But she’d kept her tools in a basket. Sure the tools would be offended, he’d given her the toolbox.

  The only thing she’d needed help with was her car. The internal combustion engine baffled her.

  He’d liked that she had that vulnerability. She was so bright. To be able to do something for her was gratifying. Which reminded him of the garage light. He couldn’t imagine that she loaded the girls in and out of the car in a dark garage. Not that she couldn’t change a bulb. There must be a reason she hadn’t. He scoured the shelves for lightbulbs and finally found several boxes on a top shelf near cleaning supplies.

  The light fixture was directly above her car, but he thought if he placed the ladder right beside it, he could reach the light provided he stretched sideways. Not OSHA approved, but it should work.

  He climbed halfway up the ladder and was able to reach the burned-out bulb at the farthest reach of his arm. He unscrewed it, placed it on the ladder’s bucket shelf, then put in the new bulb. He climbed down again and went around the car to flip on the light. The roof of her red VW gleamed under it.

  Satisfied, he folded up the ladder and was leaning it against the wall when the door to the kitchen opened. Sandy stood in the doorway in jeans and a yellow sweater, her hair caught back in a functional ponytail for the busy day’s activities. She glanced around in puzzlement, as though not sure what was different, then she realized the overhead light was on.

  She smiled widely. “You changed the bulb!” she said, pleased.

  Making sure the ladder was secure, he returned her smile. He’d been concerned that his help would annoy her. “You’re welcome. How did you get the girls in and out of the car in the
dark?”

  She shrugged as though it were simple. “In the morning, I back out first and load them into the car in the driveway, and at night, the headlights stay on until I get them into the kitchen. I should have changed the bulb long ago, but every time I thought about it, it was the end of the day, the car was already parked and I was too pooped to move it. It’ll be nice not to have to do laundry by the emergency light.” She laughed. “Thank you. That was thoughtful. And thank you for Addie’s car. She couldn’t be more thrilled.”

  “How’s her foot?”

  “Bruised, but fine.”

  “Good.”

  Not brilliant conversation, but then they were in a garage that smelled of fertilizer, with a bulbous vehicle between them. The fat little car made of metal and fiberglass seemed to exemplify the sturdy, crash-proof nature of all that stood between them.

  On the other side of the vehicle, she looked a little tense, in a state of suspension, as if she read his thoughts, understood his regrets. Suddenly his need to escape was desperate.

  “Thanks for letting me take part,” he said, again sidling carefully around the car until he reached the doorway where she still stood. Yellow was a good color for her, he thought. Her hair glowed and her brown eyes took on a golden quality. He’d always thought her pretty, but since he’d made a point of keeping distance between them, she appeared even more so. It wasn’t like him to be so contrary.

  “Sure.” She held out a plate he hadn’t been able to see in her hand when the car was between them. “Here’s a piece of cake. My mother made it. It’s wonderful.”

  The piece was a generous, lushly frosted portion decorated with what appeared to be buckteeth and a smile.

  “That’s Tow Mater,” she explained, seeming uncomfortable. “From the Cars movie. Addie loves him best. Well...” She backed up several steps so that he could get through the doorway.

  “Thanks.” He held up the plate. “I’ll bring it back to you when we meet this week. Remember I have to have a date by Friday.”