Samson and Sunset

by Dorothy Annie Schritt

  “Hi, Shay, heard you got a new boat! Gotta see that!”

  “Well,” said Shay dully, “if ya can swim good you can see it. It’s at the bottom of the lake, with the trailer and my pickup.”

  They didn’t quite know what to say to this.

  I don’t think to this point Shay had said one word to me directly, or even asked me what had happened. I think he was in shock. He finally went to the payphone hanging on the wall and called home, collect. Judging from the conversation, Sterling answered.

  “Can you send one of the guys to come and get us?” Pause. “Well, we’re at Harvard City Dam.” Pause. “The bottom of the lake.” Pause. “I really don’t want to talk about it right now.” Pause. “No, no, don’t send the chopper.” Silence. “Well, she’s not your wife, she’s mine, and I don’t do things like that to my wife.”

  When Shay got back to the table, I said, “Your dad’s mad at me.”

  “Well it’s not him you have to worry about, it’s me,” was the reply.

  “Shay—”

  “Don’t bother telling me what happened right now; you can tell me tonight when we’re home.”

  “Are you mad, Shay?”

  “No, not really, it’s insured.”

  “Well, who’s going to go down and get it tomorrow?”

  “I am,” Shay said. “I have some diving equipment.”

  “No, please, I don’t want you to go down in that deep water.”

  “Well, I’m not letting someone else do it. It could be dangerous.”

  I looked down at my half-eaten hamburger. There was nothing more to say. I knew there was no convincing Shay to make another do a dangerous job he considered his own.

  Joe and Cookie came and got us. I was so glad to see her. The first thing she did was hug me and tell me not to let myself get stressed.

  “Ya know, sweetie, it’s just a material thing, and you’re carrying a live thing...my Shay’s baby!”

  Shay must have heard that, because he got more attentive after Cookie said that, and during lovemaking that night he was extra attentive.

  But my name will always be notorious at the Harvard City Dam, as in, ‘Hide your boats folks; it’s The Boat Sinker!’

  ***

  October was a good month. We took Kelly trick-or-treating around Westover, and then around my parents’ house in Hudson. Of course the minute Kelly saw Mom and Dad she had to stay with them. I truly enjoyed sharing Kelly with Mom and Dad; they loved her as much as I loved them.

  ***

  November flew by, with Thanksgiving Day at my parents’, and the evening meal at the Big House. As I ate my turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing and cranberry sauce (which were, of course, excellent) I couldn’t help thinking about the contrast between our two families. Where my parents were loving toward one another, Shay’s were cutting and hard. In private, of course. In public they oozed charm. Where my parents were eager to be generous to anyone in need, the Westovers were selfish to the last; what was theirs was theirs, they made that clear. My parents accepted everyone. Maggie and Sterling looked down their noses at most people. They gave the appearance of class, but that was just it: it was all about appearances. They could be in the middle of a huge argument and if someone drove into the yard, they were suddenly all relaxed smiles and charm.

  I was the opposite; I loved to give and to be who I was. If I was angry at Shay at the store, I was angry at Shay at the store. I couldn’t put on the phony airs his parents did, and didn’t want to. I guess Shay was right; I was a wild woman.

  Christmas

  That December was a cold one. We celebrated Kelly’s second birthday, with Mom and Cookie both baking her cakes. I couldn’t believe how much had changed in my life in just two years. Just two Christmases ago, Kelly had no daddy and the future looked bleak. Now I was living in this beautiful suite, in love with my soul mate and about to have his baby.

  I didn’t want our suite professionally decorated for Christmas like the Westovers did with the rest of the house. Decorating was part of the fun! Shay flocked our seven-foot tree with wonderful, thick, white “snow” and I hung the branches with red, gold and green bulbs to match the room. I arranged pine boughs and red and gold candles on the mantle of the fireplace.

  We had a lot of company. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, I think all of Westover and Larimer came to visit us in our suite. Lots of tea and cookies. Our own Cookie had spread the word about the suite and everyone wanted a peek. Several of Shay’s old flames tried for invitations from him, but I put the kibosh on that.

  Christmastime was my absolute favorite time of year. By the first of December, I’d already bought and wrapped everybody’s gifts with the exception of having to wrap a few more of Shay’s gifts from me. I asked Shay if he’d let me get a holiday job as a gift-wrapper (I wrapped fast and with perfection.) He agreed, on the condition that it didn’t interfere with our lives, so I got a job at Penney’s and scheduled my work around our holiday parties (of which there were many.)

  One day, a few days before Christmas, Shay dropped me off in my car at work (couldn’t get a flake of snow on the prized Impala) and told me he’d be back to pick me up when I got off at 9 p.m. It was snowing hard and kept snowing all day.

  9:45 found me standing in the freezing snow outside Penney’s, with no sign of Shay. Everyone I worked with had gone home. I didn’t know what to do, except keep waiting. By 10, I was too cold to stand still, so I walked several miles to my parents’ house, eight months pregnant, in the heavy snow.

  I was frostbitten, aching and numb by the time I got to Mom and Dad’s. Let me tell you, they were furious with Shay. Daddy said Shay could have called him and he would have picked me up. Mom kept rubbing my feet to get them warm. But what hurt the most was the fall I’d taken on the way from Penney’s—I’d slipped off the curb and landed hard on my back.

  After getting warmed up with a blanket and some hot green tea, Mom put me to bed in my old room. I was so tired I went right to sleep. At around 6 a.m. I woke up and took a hot bath, hoping it would help my back. Mom asked if I wanted breakfast and I told her, no, thank you, I wanted to sleep awhile longer. So I took two Excedrin for my back pain and crawled back into bed, dropping off to sleep right away.

  It was about 7 a.m. when I awoke to the sound of the bedroom door opening and Shay’s voice, saying, “Callie! Thank gosh you’re safe. I was so worried!”

  I lifted my head from the pillow and said dryly, “Not so worried you didn’t leave me stranded in a blizzard. Not so worried you didn’t come home all night or call.”

  “Well, princess,” he said, sitting down on the bed, “I’m sorry. I went to a party and got too drunk, so I slept in my car.”

  He tried to pull me into his arms, but I pushed him back. “You reek of cigarettes, booze and cheap perfume,” I said. “And you know what, Shay, your body isn’t one bit cold. I don’t even want to know where you’ve been or who you were with. And I don’t want to hear any lies, either; my back hurts too much.”

  “Why is your back hurting, Callie?”

  “What difference does it make?” I asked. “If you cared you’d have been there to pick me up when I got off work.”

  “Want me to rub your back, princess?”

  “No. Just go away,” I said, turning my back to him.

  “Well, I want to crawl in there and sleep with you.”

  “You reek,” I said. “Go take a shower.”

  “I don’t have any clean clothes, Callie.”

  “Well you’re in luck, Shay. I did all my Christmas shopping early, so in the bottom of my closet you’ll find black underwear, matching t-shirts, tube socks and three sweat suits; I got them as part of your Christmas presents.”

  He went to the closet. I could hear him opening sacks. “Wow,” he said, “Santa is being good to me this year.”

  “You deserve coal in your stocking this year, Shay.”

  “My, aren’t you just the little grouch, princess,” he remarked as h
e headed down the hall to the shower.

  While he was gone, Mom brought in two cups of hot tea and put one on each bedside table. “I made some fresh cinnamon rolls,” she said. “I’ll go get a little plate of them for you two.” I thanked her. She kept standing there, looking down at me like she wanted to say more.

  “What?” I asked.

  She sat down on the bed. “You know, Kathrine,” she said softly, “you need to work this out between the two of you, and you had better make it clear how wrong he was, because I’m telling you, Kathrine, if you let him get away with this now, it won’t stop. Trust me.”

  “I know you’re right, Mom, and I am angry with him, but every time I see him I just melt. I can’t be angry and say what I feel. I’m putty in his hands and he knows it.” Mom took my hand. “He knows I’ll put up with his crap.” I shook my head. “But I’ll try to stay strong, okay?”

  She squeezed my hand and smiled. “Okay, good.”

  ***

  While Shay was in the shower, I lay in bed planning everything I knew I had to say when he got back. But my mind kept going back to the day of our wedding when I sat on the steps of the church and prayed; thanking God for loving me so much He’d given me Shay.

  I hadn’t known love existed like the kind I felt for Shay; and for me of all people, the girl from the wrong side of the tracks. The love I had for Shay would not and could not die. It had wormed its way deep into my heart and soul. If he needed a heart transplant, I would have taken my own life so he could have my heart. I would give up my life for him. This was a love created by God; nothing and no one could tear it asunder. I would fight for this marriage. I never wanted see the inside of a courtroom for a divorce again. Shay was stuck with Kelly, the baby and me.

  When he came back into the room, clean and dressed nicely in his Christmas clothes, I noticed he locked the bedroom door behind him. His hair was still wet, but he had towel-dried it. He had even shaved with one of Daddy’s razors and put on some of Daddy’s Old Spice aftershave and cologne. He crawled into bed, remarking that it looked like Cookie must have been here, as we had tea and rolls.

  “You can thank my mommy for that.”

  After consuming the tea and a roll or two, I had no doubt what was next. Shay reached for me and everything I’d planned to say went out the window.

  An intense two hours of lovemaking ensued. Our lovemaking wasn’t silent. He always told me things like, “You’re so soft. You’re so beautiful. You smell like an angel. I love you so much. Am I hurting you, baby? Are you okay? God, I love you, woman!”

  Afterward, while he held me in his arms, he asked if that had made my back feel better. “…’cause you know what? Your back feels great to me.”

  Always with the jokes.

  A few minutes and he was out like a light. I lay there with my back aching and my stepped-on heart, watching the snow fall through the window while he slept.

  ***

  My mind wandered back to a long-ago Christmas. I musthave been around ten, my sister, Martha, around twelve. We wanted to buy Daddy a new jacket. He had never had a new coat in his life, and the idea had struck us that year like a lightning bolt; it had to be done.

  After months of saving, Mom got out the Sears and Roebuck catalogue and we sat around the kitchen table, searching the menswear section for the perfect coat. We found a beautiful, belted, royal blue and black plaid jacket with a zip-up front and a warm hood. It cost $12.56. We were short $1.04, so Mom called her oldest sister, my Aunt Anne, and asked if she could loan us $1.04. We said we’d pay it back within three months. My aunt brought the money by while she was Christmas shopping, and we ordered Daddy’s new jacket.

  On Christmas Eve, Martha and I ran home from church, clutching our little brown bags of candy and oranges, hardly able to contain our excitement to see if Santa had come so that we could open our presents and give Daddy his. We opened our gifts happily—they were usually small and homemade, but we always got a new doll on Christmas, which made our day.

  Now it was our turn to give Daddy his package. I remember how his eyes lit up at the pretty wrapping paper when we handed it to him.

  “Well, what did I do to get such a big present?” he said, as he opened the carefully wrapped box, surrounded by three, wide-eyed females, all watching his every move with huge smiles on their faces.

  I will never forget the look on his face, the tears that rolled down his cheeks, as he drew the new coat out of the bright green tissue paper. This was the year I learned that it felt far better to give than to receive. I felt so happy and heart-warmed watching him, it was unlike any other feeling. And I knew right then that I wanted to always feel that way, to give whenever I could and feel God’s love rushing through me.

  Fast-forward a few weeks.

  In a small town like Hudson at that time, there wasn’t much to do on a Saturday night. Most townspeople would go downtown, but that was just a few blocks lined with stores.

  A few weeks after Christmas, my parents took Martha and me downtown on a Saturday night to walk around and window-shop. (I loved looking in the storefronts, placing this object with that object, creating a room in my mind’s eye. I guess that’s where my interest in design began.) It was a cold night and the snow was coming down, light and fluffy like cotton falling off an old cottonwood tree.

  On our way home we walked by an old man standing with his hands above a round trash barrel, where a small fire was burning. He must have been in his late sixties, shivering in just a light jersey sweater, with snow and ice crystals collecting in his beard.

  Daddy stopped and looked at him. Then he walked over, took off his new coat and put it on the old man. Zipping and belting it up, he pulled the hood over the old man’s head and said, “Merry Christmas.”

  The old man gathered the hood around his face and thanked him several times with a rusty smile.

  As we walked away I didn’t quite know what to feel. I wanted Daddy to have that new jacket, but as we walked in the snow toward home, Daddy scooped up Martha and me in each arm and said, “That poor soul needed the jacket more than I did. He doesn’t have the love you girls give me, that love is enough to keep me warm.”

  Just one of the many humbling lessons I learned from my parents.

  ***

  My first Christmas day as Mrs. Shannon Westover was certainly an experience. The entire clan came together—Grandpa Shannon, Grandma Lila, Debbie and Becky—all decked to the nines for cocktails and early afternoon turkey dinner, with all the trimmings. After eating we went for coffee in the formal living room. I had my usual tea. Cookie was there, doing her thing with two ladies to help her. (I had three gifts for Cookie, one from Shay, one from Kelly and a special one just from me.)

  We then moved to the den for gift opening. Everyone gave each and every person in the family a gift, and boy this was Kelly’s year. She cleaned up. She not only got toys, but beautiful clothes. Sterling bought her a fantastic rocking horse, converted from a real merry-go-round model; it was beautiful. To my amazement, Kelly had stolen Sterling’s heart. They played games like hide and seek; she loved sitting on his lap and going places with him. With the start that Sterling and I had, go figure. But that Kelly could steal anyone’s heart.

  Everyone got everything they wanted except me. I had fallen in love with this beautiful cocktail ring and a stylish Seiko watch with a blue face. I had shown them both to Shay, saying I hoped Santa was watching. Hint, hint. I got just about everything else: a Waterford crystal wine decanter and six matching stemmed glasses, silk PJs, perfumes, a jacket, new western boots, great books, a new purse—I must admit, I cleaned up right along with Kelly!

  By now it was about 7 p.m. and everyone decided to put on their lounge pajamas and meet in the den for drinks. With Kelly wiped out I put her to bed and slipped into my new silk PJs, while the guys got comfortable in their sweat suits. After putting Kelly to sleep I walked into the suite where Shay was sitting on one of the sage-green couches. He patted the place next
to him for me to sit down.

  “Gee, you’re quiet, princess,” he said as I sat there, looking down.

  I could no longer hold in my disappointment at not getting my only two special requests. I buried my head in Shay’s chest and started crying softly.

  “Princess, what’s the matter, why are you crying?” I sat up and looked at him, sniffling. “Oh,” he said, “you’re crying because you didn’t get what you wanted. I got you everything a girl could want, and here you are crying.”

  The crying went to little gasps, like a baby does after sobbing real hard, pathetic little sobs. I truly was crying.

  Shay stood up, turned, and gently took both of my hands and pulled me up to my feet. Then he scooped me up off the floor and kissed me.