Christmas Cake (12 page)

Jessie studied her husband, remembering how he left for so long and then how it was when he came back. She thought about her father and how he regretted never getting his parents out of Mississippi.

“Margaret shouldn't die with regret.”

Louise and Jessie turned to each other.

“She doesn't want any tree or fancy decorations at her house. She wants to go to this place she remembers from her childhood. She wants to see the place and remember how it felt to be young.” James straightened up and folded his arms around his chest. “And you two and crazy Bea are the only ones who can give her that. So, that's what you've got to do.”

Jessie looked at her husband and her eyes filled with tears. “No regrets,” she said.

They nodded at each other.

“Well, Louise, I guess we better start making some travel arrangements.”

And Louise hung the last angel on the tree and rubbed her hands together as if she was just getting started with a new project.

 

 

Old-Fashioned Yellow Cake with Caramel Icing

1 cup shortening

2 cups sugar

4 eggs

2¼ teaspoons baking powder

¾ teaspoon salt

3 cups flour

1 cup milk

1 teaspoon vanilla

 

Cream shortening and sugar. Add eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Add baking powder and salt to flour. Start adding flour to shortening mixture and alternate with milk, ending up with flour. Add vanilla. Bake at 375 degrees in 3 9-inch pans for 20 minutes.

 

 

CARAMEL ICING

½ cup butter

1 cup brown sugar

¼ cup milk

1¾ or 2 cups powdered sugar

 

Melt butter; add sugar and boil over low heat for 2 minutes. Add milk and stir until mixture comes to a boil. Remove from heat and cool. Beat in powdered sugar. Spread between layers and cover top and sides.

N
ear Amarillo?” Charlotte was on the phone with Jessie. She was trying to finish up the end-of-the-year figures for the upcoming board of directors meeting and still putting the final touches on the Christmas party she was planning for the women at the shelter. It was a busy day.

“I never heard Margaret say that she was from Texas,” she said.

“It's not Margaret who is from Texas, it was her mother,” Jessie responded. “Her mother's people are from there.”

“I thought everybody in her family was from North Carolina?”

“On her daddy's side I think that's right. But her mother's people were ranchers in west Texas.”

“Didn't her mother die when she was a little girl?” Charlotte asked.

“Ten,” Jessie replied. “She died when Margaret was ten.”

Charlotte thought about what Jessie was suggesting, trying to
recall if Margaret had ever spoken about her mother, about visiting Texas. She couldn't remember any conversation. She knew that Margaret's father raised her and that she spent a lot of time outside on the farm, but the young minister had never thought to ask her about her mother and what had happened or where she was from.

“And she wants to go there?” Charlotte asked, sounding surprised. “And now?” She shook her head. She didn't understand what her friend needed.

“I think it's something she's wanted for some time but never asked anybody to take her or go with her.”

“Does she still have family there?” Charlotte wanted to know.

Jessie thought about this question. She and Louise had discussed this as well. She had even asked Margaret the very same thing. “She doesn't think so. Distant cousins, maybe, but there's no one she recalls or even wants to see.”

“Then what is this about?” Charlotte had lots of questions since this didn't seem like Margaret at all. She had never known her friend to want to take a trip on such short notice. In fact, except for a cruise that Margaret mentioned taking after her husband died, she didn't recall Margaret ever talking about taking any trip or vacation.

“She hasn't really said,” Jessie responded. “She just wants to go.”

“It's only a week before Christmas,” Charlotte said.

“I know,” Jessie said. “Will it be a hardship for you to take off and meet us there?” she asked. “I just think it would mean a lot for her to have you there too.”

Charlotte didn't hesitate. “Of course I will be there. Do you know when you might arrive?”

Jessie waited before answering. She hadn't considered all the ar
rangements that she was going to have to make. “Well, if we can leave over the weekend, we should be able to get to Goodlett by the twenty-third. Beatrice is getting us a van and Louise is trying to make hotel reservations. I'm calling you and supposed to talk to the doctor and make sure of everything we might need if she gets sick. At this point, he didn't seem to think it would be a problem.”

Charlotte didn't respond. She was thinking about everything Jessie was saying. “Did Margaret ask you about this?” she asked.

“No,” Jessie replied. “Not at first. At first it was James's idea.”

“James?” Charlotte asked. “Why did James know what Margaret wanted?”

“He just guessed. Margaret had told me about Goodlett and wanting to visit and never getting there. She said something about her mother and Christmas and how it had been the most wonderful Christmas she had ever had but she didn't say she wanted to go. But surprise of surprises, he was right. When I brought it up to Margaret, she cried. And she said it was exactly the thing she wanted for Christmas.”

“That's amazing that he could figure that out,” Charlotte said.

“Yep, he has a gift.”

“So, you get to Goodlett, Texas, and then what?” Charlotte wanted to know.

“Well, that part is up to Margaret.” Jessie paused. “She wants to go to some church and she wants to go to her mother's grave.”

Charlotte nodded. Now it was starting to make sense. “She's going to make some peace, isn't she?”

“Looks that way,” Jessie replied.

“Well.” Charlotte was considering what she needed to do to make
the trip to meet her friends. “I will need to get some things taken care of here but I should be able to meet you by Tuesday. It probably won't take me a couple of days to drive there.”

She pulled out the road atlas she kept on a shelf behind her desk. She opened it to Texas and starting looking for the place Jessie had mentioned. “As soon as I can find Goodlett…where is it again?” she asked.

“Go across Oklahoma on Interstate 40,” Jessie instructed. She was studying her map too.

“Okay, I got that,” Charlotte responded.

“Now, just as you cross the border, drop down, going south on Highway 83.”

“To Childress?” Charlotte asked.

“Right,” Jessie said. “Then take Highway 287 east.” She waited for a second. “Do you see it?” she asked.

“No,” Charlotte answered. “It isn't on this map.” She shook her head. “How far does it look to be from Childress?”

“Ten or fifteen miles, maybe,” Jessie noted.

“I'll find it, I'm sure. And there probably aren't too many cemeteries in that little town too. We'll find each other. Do you have my cell phone number?” Charlotte asked.

“Yes,” Jessie replied. “We'll touch base along the way, okay?”

“Perfect,” Charlotte said as she closed the map. “Do you think we can find a place there we can stay?”

“Well, I suppose if not, we'll get back on the interstate until we find something. Maybe we can look in Childress if there isn't anything in her hometown.”

Charlotte thought about hotels and wondered if she could check
on the computer to find a place for them to stay. She decided that she could think about that later. She closed the map. Then she needed to ask the question she had been putting off. “She's nearing the end, isn't she?”

Jessie waited. She knew how hard it was for Charlotte to think about losing Margaret. “I think so,” she finally responded.

There was a pause between the two friends.

“I don't know exactly what this trip is about but I have some idea it's something she needs to do before she can die,” Jessie remarked.

“In peace,” Charlotte added.

“In peace,” Jessie repeated.

“I remember one time that she told me that peace was the one spiritual gift she felt had eluded her all of her life. She said that she felt as if her entire life had something blocking that from her and she never quite understood what it was.”

Jessie considered what Charlotte was telling her. She had always thought of Margaret as a peaceful person, but she realized then that based upon what Charlotte was saying, Margaret had apparently never completely felt that way. It saddened her a bit to think her best friend had never known that sense of contentment.

“Well, I guess she's figured it out now,” Jessie said. “And that's always a good thing, isn't it?”

“And it's in Texas,” Charlotte noted with a smile.

“Goodlett, a place that isn't even on the maps. And we'll find it for her on Christmas.”

Charlotte laughed a bit. “I have thought of a lot of places I would like to go for Christmas. I thought of Europe and Costa Rica, but I have to confess, I have never thought of Goodlett, Texas.”

“Who knew?” Jessie said.

The two women thought about what they were planning and chuckled a bit more.

“Okay, I'll call you when we're ready to leave, and maybe by then I'll have a little more information about where we're staying and how long it will take us to get there.”

“That's fine,” Charlotte said. “I'll see if I can find anywhere for us to stay while we're there and I will plan to meet you somewhere in Goodlett, Texas, next week.” She paused. “Thank you, Jessie, for doing this for Margaret, for doing this for me.”

“That's what friends are for,” Jessie replied. “And I figured you would want to be there.”

“You figured right,” Charlotte said.

“Then we'll see you soon.”

“Okay, good-bye, Jessie.”

“Good-bye, Charlotte.”

When Charlotte glanced up as she was putting the receiver back on the phone base, she noticed that the shelter's newest client, Rachel, was standing in her doorway. Charlotte could see how much better she was doing, how her bruises were healing, how much better she was walking now, without the use of crutches.

“You need some help with the party?” she asked.

“Oh, sure, that would be great,” Charlotte replied. “We need some snacks and desserts. Do you cook?”

“I can bake a plain cake and I can make a real nice icing. My grandmother taught me.”

Charlotte smiled.

“It's caramel,” Rachel noted. “Is that okay for Christmas?”

“Of course,” Charlotte replied.

The young woman stayed standing at the door. Charlotte could tell that she wanted to say something else. Charlotte waited.

Rachel glanced around the office and then asked, “You going to Texas?”

Charlotte smiled. She wondered if the young woman had been listening to her conversation with Jessie. “Yeah,” she replied. “A friend of mine wants to see her family,” she added.

“Where she from?” Rachel asked.

Charlotte could hear the Texan accent more clearly now. She realized that she liked it. She didn't hear it too much, and the Southern drawl made her a bit homesick for her family and friends.

“Goodlett,” Charlotte replied. “You know of it?” She remembered that Rachel was from Childress, the town that Jessie had used as a reference point.

“Sure, I heard of Goodlett,” Rachel responded. She leaned against the door frame. “Not much there,” she noted.

“Yeah, I guess not. I can't even find it on my map,” Charlotte explained.

Rachel smiled. “It's fourteen miles south of where I grew up,” she said. “I used to go with a boy from Goodlett.”

“Oh,” Charlotte was intrigued. This was the most information that her new client had shared since arriving at the shelter more than a month earlier.

“You from Texas?” Rachel asked Charlotte.

“No, North Carolina,” she replied. “You hear my Southern flavor?” she asked.

Rachel smiled. “I knew you weren't from here.”

“How did you know that?” Charlotte asked.

Rachel shrugged. “Just the way you talk. It's slow.” She paused. “I like it,” she added.

Charlotte smiled. “I was thinking the same thing about the way you talked. I'm glad to hear more of it today.” She opened the map back up to find out where fourteen miles south of Childress took her. She slid her finger down the highway line and stopped. There was in fact a tiny name written just where Jessie had said. She had simply missed it.

“You spend a lot of time with this boyfriend from Goodlett?” Charlotte asked. She was thinking about how long the trip would take her from Gallup.

“Not so much really. He was nice. I was just looking for my way out of Childress. Goodlett wasn't far enough away for me.”

Charlotte nodded.

“His daddy bought a cotton gin there,” she explained. “But I think he was going to turn it into a trailer park.”

“Hmmm. That sounds nice.” Charlotte didn't quite know what to say. “My friend Margaret,” she said, “her mother was from there but she's been dead a long time.”

Rachel nodded. “She wanting to visit the grave?” she asked.

“I think so,” Charlotte said. She hesitated. “She's sick,” she added. “I think she wants to go and see her mother before she dies.”

Rachel nodded again. “I understand that,” she said. “I used to go down to my grandmother's grave every day. I talked to her. I bought her new flowers every week but I went to see her every day. She was the only one I was ever able to talk to.”

“How old were you when she died?” Charlotte asked.

“Fourteen,” Rachel answered. “She raised me. She and my uncle Nestor.”

The young woman walked into the office.

Charlotte gestured for her to sit down in the chair across from her desk. She was glad that Rachel was opening up. “I guess you miss her,” Charlotte surmised.

“Yep,” Rachel responded.

And then Charlotte had an interesting idea. She sat up a bit in her chair. “You want to go with me?” she asked.

Rachel stared at Charlotte. “To Childress?” she asked.

Charlotte shrugged.

“I never thought about going back,” Rachel responded. “I just thought I never could go back once I left.”

“Why would you think that?” Charlotte asked, surprised at Rachel's comment. “Why would you think you could never go back?”

“I just thought I had made such a mess of things that nobody would want me back.”

“Your uncle still there?” Charlotte asked.

Rachel nodded. “And my sister.” She hesitated. “She's older than me, just a couple of years, but we haven't spoken to each other in a long time.”

“Why?” Charlotte asked. She was glad to have her newest client talking so much, and since she didn't know if Rachel would ever open up again like this, she thought she would keep asking her questions.

Rachel shrugged. “I'm not sure now,” she replied honestly. “Rainey was sixteen and she wanted to get out of town more than me, so she left. After that, when she called I wouldn't talk to her because it made me so mad that she left me.” The young woman folded her arms across her chest.

“You ever see her again?” Charlotte asked.

Rachel nodded her head. “Once,” she answered.

Charlotte waited for the explanation.

“She came back to town before I left with Roy, tried to get me not to go.” She fidgeted a bit in her seat.

“Is Roy the boy who beat you up?” Charlotte asked.