am, but I don't know if
you're
gonna be, considering you're another year older..." Stuart began.
"Surprise!"
the others shouted as they popped out from behind the van door.
"It's a movie-star themed birthday!" Mr. Farmer exclaimed and handed Angela the gift bag stuffed with colorful tissue. "Those are DVDs.
The Seven Year Itch
,
Niagara
, and
How to Marry a Millionaire
. I wasn't sure what you had already ..." He trailed off.
"Oh my stars!" Angela cried joyfully as she accepted the bag and peered into the van. "Will you get a load of that cake? How did you guys get someone to bake something so absolutely
perfect
?"
"Wasn't us," Ben said. "The boss man took charge of this year's party."
In a rush of gratitude, Angela planted a kiss on Mr. Farmer's lips, leaving a smudge of red lipstick above and below his own compressed lips. Stunned, he cleared his throat and reached into his pocket, but not finding a tissue or what ever he was searching for, issued a command instead. "Open your gifts, Angela."
Still twittering with excitement, Angela tore open packages and squealed in delight over each of her presents. After taking scores of photos of her cake with a digital camera, Angela insisted that everyone consume an inordinately large piece of the lemon pound cake piled with two inches of strawberry butter-cream frosting. After they had all been served, Mr. Farmer produced a bottle of champagne from a cooler on the floor of the van's passenger seat and poured out glasses for his employees.
"Just enough to soak your mustaches," he said. "To the heart of our company. To Angela. Our very own rose."
Tears sprang into Angela's eyes as she knocked plastic tumblers with her friends. "Y'all did it! You surprised me, all right!" She dabbed at her heavily mascaraed eyes with a pink napkin. "I was actually beginning to think you forgot about me."
"Never!" shouted Stuart and Cooper.
"Not us," added Ben.
Mr. Farmer added a tiny splash to Angela's cup and said, "Impossible, Angela. You're simply unforgettable."
Cooper had never seen Angela so happy.
Driving home, Cooper felt a little glum. She was pleased to have been a part of Angela's joyful moment, but the celebration had also reminded her that she might very well be alone on her next birthday and possibly for many birthdays after that.
"It's time for a Home Depot stop," Cooper declared. "The handle on my screwdriver's cracked, after all."
Strolling down the aisle of power tools, Cooper brushed her hands over the gleaming metal of unused tools. She paused at the section of hand tools where the drill bits were displayed. This was the exact spot where she had met Drew over five years ago and despite herself, the memory of their meeting flooded her mind.
"Oh!" he had exclaimed as she reached for the last DeWalt 28-piece drill-bit set that day over five years ago. "Did you want those?"
"I did," she had said. "But I don't mind getting the Bosch set."
"No, you take the DeWalt. I insist." Drew had gazed at her with those stormy gray-blue eyes and then his handsome mouth creased into a charming smile. "I hope you don't think I'm being nosy, but are the bits for you or someone else?"
"For me," Cooper had answered. "I'm helping my daddy build a garden fence, but I like to use my own tools instead of borrowing his."
"I'm making bookshelves. One of my bits just got ground to dust when I started drilling the concrete floor instead of the screw. That's what I get for watching
Sports Center
while I'm building." He paused and ran a hair through his wavy hair. "Listen, I don't normally hit on beautiful women in Home Depot, but would you like to grab an Italian sausage with me? There's a kiosk right outside the front door so you can easily ditch me if you want."
Cooper's heart had fluttered inside her chest. This charming, gorgeous man wanted to have lunch with her! "I'd love to," she had answered and that had been the beginning of many meals and endless discussions about tools, building projects, work, and family.
"May I help you, miss?" a Home Depot employee wearing an orange apron inquired helpfully, breaking Cooper from her reverie.
"No thanks." She held up the screwdriver she planned to purchase. "I got what I came for."
As Cooper turned the corner at the end of the aisle, she came face-to-face with the person she had just been daydreaming about. There, right in front of her, was Drew. Only he wasn't alone. A petite redhead with skin like fine porcelain and wide, ocean-blue eyes held on to his arm as she examined a lamp display.
Drew saw Cooper and at first, his face grew pale. Then, without breaking eye contact, he pulled Anna Lynne toward Cooper and formally introduced them as though the three of them were at a cocktail party.
Cooper mechanically shook hands with Anna Lynne, who seemed utterly sincere when she said, "I've heard wonderful things about you. It's nice to put a face to all of those praises."
Too dumbfounded to respond, Cooper looked back at Drew who also seemed to be at a loss for words. "Are you doing okay?" he asked after several seconds of awkward silence.
"Yeah, I'm good," she murmured, longing to escape from the one person who had meant the world to her for so many years. She was shocked over how painful it was to see him with Anna Lynne. Yet here she stood, exchanging meaningless small talk while the cracks and fissures in her heart threatened to rend it in two.
"I wanted to tell you before you found out any other way...since we ran into each other like this and all." Drew spoke with haste. "Um, Anna Lynne and I are engaged."
"Drew," Anna Lynne cautioned. "No woman wants to hear that about her ex. Not without a lot more time passing." She turned a sympathetic glance toward Cooper. "I'm sorry. We really should get goin' and leave you be, but it sure was nice to have met you."
Anna Lynne began to pull Drew away, though it seemed he wanted to say something further to Cooper. Finally, Anna Lynne murmured briefly into his ear. Looking abashed, he nodded and reached out to squeeze Cooper's shoulder. "I wish you the best, Coop. Be well."
And with that, the happy couple walked deeper into the electrical aisle and disappeared from sight.
Cooper stood in front of the lamp display for a long time. The encounter had been so unexpected, so unwelcome, and in the end, devastating.
"Engaged?" Cooper posed her question to the air. "Engaged?" she repeated, stroking the silky lampshade closest to her right hand. It was hard to breathe, almost impossible to move. Since she was barely conscious of what she was doing, the back of Cooper's hand brushed against a display of lit bulbs. The bulb burned her skin and she jerked her hand away. The sensation of physical pain seemed to force reality upon her like an electric shock. "He's gone," she muttered. "And he's
never
coming back."
Suddenly, the giant store felt claustrophobic. Tossing the screwdriver she meant to purchase at the base of the lamp Cooper hustled outside, jumped in her truck, and drove home. Once there, she moved listlessly through the vegetable garden, around the balmy interior of her green house, and, finding no comfort in any of those places, crossed the patio toward the hawk's cage.
"You look as low as my pantyhose after the elastic's given out," Grammy said, joining Cooper as she stroked the feathers on Columbus's neck.
Cooper sighed. She hadn't heard her grandmother approach and didn't want to see another human being at the moment.
"You'll feel better if you let it out," Grammy advised. "You hold on to the blues and they'll keep squeezer' you just like one of those blood pressure cuffs. Lord, I hate those things."
Cooper reluctantly told her grandmother about Drew. She then poured out her fear over never finding someone to love as much again, about the possibility of remaining single for the rest of her life. Grammy listened without a single interruption, which was most unusual. She offered no smart-aleck comments or cynical advice. When Cooper was finished talking, Grammy placed a wrinkled hand on her granddaughter's arm and said, "Come on into my room."
Cooper followed as her grandmother shuffled down the hall toward her bedroom.
"Sit on the bed," Grammy commanded and began sifting through a bureau drawer. Little Boy jumped from his nest on Grammy's pillow to the top of the chest in order to see if the drawers contained a succulent treat for him. Grammy kissed him on his pink nose and muttered to herself as she removed old jewelry boxes, letters, tissues, postcards, and other sundry items before she found what she was looking for. Placing a yellow handkerchief on the bed, Grammy seated herself next to Cooper.
"I know about feelin' like you're drownin', child. There was a time, before my boys were born, that I almost let those blues take charge of me." She fingered the handkerchief. "Your grandpa traveled a lot you know, sellin' dental supplies. He was often gone, but we was doin' okay. After only bein' married a year, I found out I was expec-tin' a baby." Grammy's voice turned to a whisper. "But the child wasn't to be. She came too early, while Earl Senior was in Duluth or Lord knows where."
"Oh, Grammy," Cooper whispered sympathetically.
Steeling herself to continue, Grammy reclaimed her hand and rubbed her bony knees with both hands as she stared, unseeing, out the window. "Folks thought I'd be so mad at Earl Senior, but I was an empty hole of a woman. I didn't yell or cry or anythin'. I was frozen like a piece of ice. Losin' that baby ripped my heart to pieces." She sighed, remembering what may have been the most painful moment of her life. "When I got out of the hospital, your grandpa picked me up, but he didn't drive me home. He drove us straight to Albuquerque and checked us into a hotel. He told me we'd stay until I was ready to go home--to start livin' again."
"How long were you there?"
Grammy chuckled, but there was no humor in the sound. "Two weeks. That was enough for me. I started to miss Southern food, my little house and garden, and my friends. I told Earl I was ready to go and while we were packin' up he gave me this."
She picked up the handkerchief. "He told me that this pin was to remind me that we can get beyond the greatest of hurts if someone loves us. If we just hold on and do our best, God Almighty will answer our prayers and see us through. I wore this every day until I gave birth to Earl Junior. Then I didn't need it so much, so I put it away. Now I want you to have it. Bear your grandpa's words in mind. He was pretty smart at times."
Grammy peeled back the soft folds of cloth to reveal a silver butterfly pin. It had a narrow body and delicate filigree wings. When Cooper held it to the light, it twinkled in the palm of her hand like a living creature. Looking at her grandmother's weathered face, Cooper didn't know whether she was more thankful for the butterfly or for Grammy's story.
She reached out, put her arms around her grandmother's scrawny shoulders, and squeezed her gently. "Thank you. I'll wear it all the time."
"Or until your most important prayers are answered," Grammy whispered into Cooper's hair. Little Boy leapt onto the bed and mewled. He was jealous of the attention Cooper was receiving. Grammy gathered the enormous tabby into her arms and waved at Cooper with her elbow. "Now go on with you, it's time for me and Little Boy to watch Jerry Springer."
13
For the lips of an adulteress drip honey,
and her speech is smoother than oil;
but in the end she is bitter as gall,
sharp as a double-edged sword.
Her feet go down to death;
Her steps lead straight to the grave.
Proverbs 5:3--5 (NIV)
After receiving the butterfly pin, Cooper sprinted upstairs to her apartment and affixed it to a moss-colored long-sleeve T-shirt. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, the woman in the green top and jeans looked liked someone on a mission. Since running into Drew and Anna Lynne, Cooper became especially grateful for the new friends in her life and their readiness to accept her, flaws and all. Now, she felt as though she needed to be in their presence on a regular basis, that she might gain strength and hope simply by being near them.
Inspired and reinvigorated by her dialogue with Grammy, Cooper stopped by her parents' kitchen to say hello before heading out to the baseball game.
"Wanna join us for dinner, honey?" Maggie asked while opening the oven door to make sure that the brisket she was cooking was bathing in enough au jus. "I've got plenty of meat here."
"Thanks, Mama." Cooper inhaled the delicious aroma regretfully. "But I've got hot dogs at the Little League game on my menu to night."
Maggie scooped a few tablespoonfuls of gravy over the top of the brisket and, satisfied with the tenderness of the meat, eased the oven closed. "You still busy sleuthing?"
Cooper nodded. "We are. It's taking longer than I thought to gather clues, though."
"Well, hon." Maggie sponged off the countertop as she talked. "Just think of how the police feel following those kind of twisty, curvy paths every day--knowing that the trail they're on may not ever lead them to the right person. When I think of those who have lost a loved one to violence or about those poor parents that may never see their missing children ..." She dabbed at the tears pooled in her eyes with the edge of the checkered dishcloth.
"We're not giving up, Mama," Cooper said quickly, before her mother could dwell on the troubles expounded by the evening news reports. "I think about Brooke Hughes all the time. I'm not going to let this go. And her husband was denied bail so I've heard he's mighty down these days, but he's got a son to live for."
