Simple Gifts (2 page)

He started the pickup, and I blurted out the principal thought on my mind. “
Where
are you taking me?”

He grinned. “The medical clinic. Did you think I was planning to take you to the veterinary clinic?”

“Well, I wondered.”

“I could check you out, but I'd have the law breathing down my neck. Besides, I'd like to know why you fainted. We'll let Doc Johnson decide the cause.”

He was worried about me. Guilt hit like a steamroller.
Marlene, you can get yourself into the worst messes. When are you planning to grow up?

Doc Johnson was older, barrel-chested, and brusque, with white hair and penetrating blue eyes, and a failing memory. He barely remembered my name. “Fainted, huh? You make a habit of doing that?”

I shook my head. “No…this is a first.”

“Well, come on to the back and we'll see what's ailing you.”

He ran a preliminary exam, asking questions and checking my vitals. I faked grogginess. The ruse had gone on too long to confess now, even with my conscience taking bites out of my pebbling gooseflesh.

I had misled so long that lies were coming almost naturally.

About the time
CSI
came on, Dr. Johnson gave up on the tests when he (duh) failed to find a physical reason for my fainting spell. By now my hair and clothing had dried and I had finger combed my curly locks into a semblance of order.

Someone had stuck my purse near my jacket. I fumbled around to find a tube of lip gloss and ran it over my dry lips. When Vic walked back into the brightly lit room, my appearance had improved to merely semi-pathetic. I wanted to cry. He looked so together—I'm talking confident and focused. The years had been kind to him.

I, on the other hand, must have looked like a dried fig.

“Hi,” he said, studying me carefully.

“Hi,” I murmured. “You waited.”

“I wanted to make sure you got home all right.”

I tried to glance away, but the years fell back, and suddenly it was Vic, my best friend Vic, looking at me, his features grave with concern.

“So. Long time no see.”

“Way too long.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “You gave me a scare.”

“Sorry.”

“I didn't know you were expected back. You didn't say anything when we talked at Christmas.”

“Aunt Ingrid finally decided to be sensible. She's agreed to let me settle Beth's estate. Guess she got tired of fighting me.” Aunt Ingrid was technically my father's stepmother, but she had always seemed like another aunt to me.

He pulled up a chair and sat down beside the table. “I'll bet you didn't know I was mayor of Parnass Springs, did you?”

“No kidding? “Vic? Town mayor? He'd broken out enough city-hall windows to own the place, so I guess that was only fair.

“Well, acting mayor while Eric Wells is on a fact-finding mission.”

I shook my head, trying to look lethargic. “Mayor? I never expected you to go into politics.”

“Next stop, the White House.” He reached for my hands and his eyes turned grave. “Doc says you have diabetes. Why didn't you tell me?”

For the same reason I hadn't told him a lot of things. Health issues meant I was weak. Noel walking out meant I was a failure. I didn't
want
to be weak or a failure in Vic's eyes.

I tried to focus. “My blood sugar's been a little high lately, but I'm on medication—is it high now?” I'd barely eaten anything today—I'd think it would be dangerously low.

“A little. Have you been taking care of yourself?”

“Oh? Well. On occasion.”

Tell him the truth, Marlene. Tell him you “fainted” from embarrassment.

Not in a million years. I brushed a languid hand across my forehead. Oscar-winning stuff. When, exactly, had lying come so easily? “So, what…what happened?”

“Not sure, but you pulled into the station and hit a pop display. We were able to get the car stopped before you shot back onto the highway.”

I kept silent. Cowards are like that.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like a complete and utter fool, but health-wise, good.” I opened an eye and met his gaze. “How are you?”

He grinned, a lopsided, cocky, totally Vic smile that never failed to send my heart into spasms.

“Great. It's good to see you. You look wonderful.”

Heat blanketed my cheeks. He was being kind, of course. I wasn't the fresh-faced girl of my youth. I felt old and tired—-and who wouldn't be, carrying a load of guilt as big as a Clydesdale? Here I was, occupying a clinic bed, taking up a doctor's time, and lying—to my best friend. Because of one split moment's insane decision.

God, forgive me. When will I ever learn? How long are you willing to put up with me?
“Do I need to stay overnight?”

“Doc says you're free to go, but he wants to see you in the morning. You need a good night's sleep. Why don't you come by the vet clinic tomorrow, and I'll bring you back here so Doc can check your blood sugar and see if you're following instructions. You can't mess around with diabetes, Marlene.”

“You work on Saturdays?”

“I work every day.”

Well, I supposed a vet would be on call most of the time.

The nurse unhooked me from the various paraphernalia and left the room, saying I could take my time about sitting up and putting on my shoes.

Vic rose from the chair and pulled me into a sitting position. “Here. Let me help.”

He slipped my shoes on, tying them one by one and then helped me stand. My jacket was still damp and wrinkled, but I didn't protest when he pulled it around my shoulders. Maybe I didn't mind because his hands were warm and comforting, or maybe just because it was Vic standing beside me.

“Wait a minute.” He left and then returned with a wheelchair.

“I can walk.”

“Forget it. You go out in a wheelchair or you spend the night here. Take your choice.”

I sighed and climbed on board, letting him push me out through the lobby to his truck.

“Wait! Don't I have to sign insurance papers?”

“We'll take care of that tomorrow.” He opened the passenger door, and warm air rushed over me. “Tonight you're going home, soaking in a hot bath, and tomorrow morning you're sleeping in.”

“Okay, fine. You're the doctor. I'm staying at Beth's house.”

He helped me inside, and I leaned back against the head-rest, closed my eyes, and prayed again for that hole to open up and swallow me. Granted, I loved seeing Vic, but not this way. When I thought about the things I hadn't told him over the years, vital bits of my life I had deliberately left out…He knew all about me, yet he knew nothing. And part of what he thought he knew was wrong. The times we'd talked, I'd not been…forthcoming.

He drove into Aunt Beth's driveway and helped me up the porch steps and into the house. I waited in the doorway as he hit the switch, flooding the room with light.

A chill raced through me. This house was my past whether I liked it or not. Standing here right now, I didn't like it.

“You're sure you'll be all right? “His strong arm reinforced me.

“I'll be fine. I phoned ahead to have the utilities turned on, the water heater lit. All the comforts of home, if a pipe doesn't leak or the ceiling doesn't cave in.”

His gaze roamed the cracked plaster. “It's a mess.”

It was. Nearly as bad as my life. I wanted to see the house through his eyes, without the chill of childhood memories. Realistically it was falling down. A large brown spot on the dining room ceiling meant a new roof was in order. I sniffed. Mice. Place was probably overrun with the furry little creatures.

Vic's brows lifted.

“I'll be all right. Nothing will bother me here.” Not an easy job, sounding convincing with cobwebs hanging from the light fixtures and dangling in obscure places. Mice I could handle. Spiders? The thought of coming across a furry, eight-legged creature strung my nerves tighter than banjo strings.

And then there were the rocks. Aunt Beth had been an avid collector of many things. Of course she didn't collect anything valuable, just other people's junk, throwaways, and rocks. Lots of rocks. Which she kept in the house.

I'd always expected the living room floor to fall into the basement some day, taking half a ton of boulders with it.

I took a deep, sustaining breath. “Don't worry, I'm feeling much stronger. I'll have a cup of tea and go to bed.”

“There's an extra bedroom at Pop's house. You're welcome to stay there.”

I still had enough common sense to know
that
was a bad idea. I was here to get rid of the past, not to promote it. “A good night's sleep will do wonders. Thanks for all you've done.”

And may he never know how unnecessary it'd been. I couldn't believe I'd perpetrated something so foolish.

Believe it Marlene. You made an impression on the entire community
. I'd envisioned returning home with a tad more dignity.

But dignity never was yours. Not ever.

“All right then. I'll see you tomorrow. Come by when you're up and around.” He reached as if to brush a lock of hair off my forehead, then withdrew his hand. I thought he might kiss me—a bird peck on the cheek, nothing unusual for friends—but he stepped back and turned an eye to the night sky. “Looks like the storm is over.”

“Yeah.” Standing beside him, aware of his special scent—-male, and some killer cologne—I had the unsettled feeling the storm was just about to break.

He descended the steps and strode to the driveway. I stood in the shadows of the porch, watching him back the truck across the street to his dad's house.

Finally I went inside and switched on every light in the place as I walked through the rooms, remembering the hours I'd spent here. Aunt Beth had always been strange—bizarre, actually—but if not for her kindness, I would have gone to an orphanage. Clean sheets bearing a faint scent of lavender awaited me in the linen chest. The lid fit tight so the mice hadn't been able to get to them. I made the bed in the front bedroom, the one with the large window, and went back downstairs.

I ran a sink full of sudsy water and washed enough dishes for breakfast. Someone—Joe most likely—had left a box of tea and a fresh loaf of bread on the table. Ingrid would have told him I was coming…

I frowned. Odd that he didn't tell Vic—

Eww! Well, I was right. The kitchen was overrun with mice. No, they weren't in sight, but their droppings were scattered all around the room.

I filled the teakettle, and when it whistled, I poured hot water over the tea bag and added a shot of honey. On a whim I carried my cup out to the side porch. The porch swing seemed sturdy enough, so I sat, swaying to and fro. I'd forgotten how peaceful it was. The people here were part of my past, and the older I got, the more I longed for solid roots.

I focused on the small parsonage across the street. Joe Brewster, Vic's father, Parnass's spiritual leader, lived there. Had the years been kind to him? Joe had shepherded four generations in this small rural community. His endless compassion, combined with a few amusing quirks and a passion for inventing useless gadgets, endeared him to the town. His revivals were notorious for both fun and sobriety. Joe knew how to make a Christian laugh, to enjoy the richness of life, yet honor their Maker. He'd been my surrogate father in my younger years.

A light came on in the small cottage out back of the parsonage. Vic's place, though according to him, Joe had been after him to move back into the house. Had our unexpected encounter today stirred memories for Vic too? Did he ever think about his earlier years and the way I'd destroyed what we'd once thought was an irrevocable bond between us?

My increasingly morose thoughts ended when the “William Tell Overture” sprang to life. My cell phone. I flipped it open and Sara's panicked voice brought me the rest of the way back to reality. With a thud.

“Mom!”

“What, darling?” I knew I shouldn't have left. What had happened now? Why was she calling so late?

“It's Petey.”

“Something's wrong with Petey?”

He had a cold when I left. It must have turned into pneumonia! I knew I should've stayed in Glen Ellyn instead of running off to Parnass Springs. What had I been thinking? My little grandson was dying, and I wasn't even there—

“I can't find Mr. Bear, and he refuses to go to bed without it.”

My heart, which had been doing a fairly decent imitation of a jackhammer, slowed. A bear? She called me at this time of night about a stuffed bear? I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, struggling for control. “Where did he last have it?”

“He can't remember.”

“Did you look in the hall closet?” He used the space for a “club house.”

“I never thought of that. I'll look now.”

I waited, gripping the phone.
Be strong, Marlene. This is her first test. Let her handle this crisis alone.

“Mom? It's not there.”

“Did you check Emma's room?”

I waited five minutes. Sara returned. “It's not there either. I don't know what I'll do if we don't find it!”

Life, as we knew it, would go on, but I didn't miss the unspoken reproach in her tone of voice—I had no right to go off and leave her alone.

“It's there somewhere. You'll have to look until you find it, sweetie. Give me a call tomorrow and let me know where it was.”

Before I lost my nerve, I did something I'd never done before. I hung up. Sara was young—much too young to have two children under the age of four. She'd been too young to marry, but Pete was older and I thought he would stabilize her. Instead, he worked so many long hours in residency that he'd made Sara even more dependent on me.

For a few minutes I sat staring at the phone as if Sara might reach through the wire and throttle me. When it seemed safe that she wouldn't, I cleared my throat, smiled, and released a pent-up breath.