The Charm Bracelet (33 page)

“Why am I here?” Arden asked out loud.

And then she saw why: At the very end of the snaking line stood her daughter.

“Lauren?”

Without thinking, Arden was on her feet.

“Lauren?!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “Lauren! What are you doing?”

The crowd around her stared, alarmed by her shouts, cautiously sliding their rears away on the aluminum benches from the crazy woman.

In the distance, Lauren heard her mother yell, and she waved back enthusiastically, just like she had done when she was little and had to perform in a band concert.

“Don't alarm her,” said Lolly, who was hiding under the last rows of the bleachers. “Just keep her calm.”

Arden saw her daughter laugh. She put her hands around her eyes, scanning the narrow slats between the bleachers to get a better look.

Was that…?

“Mother!” Arden yelled, standing on her bleacher. “I knew you were behind this!”

As Arden's screams traveled toward Lolly, she tried to hide behind a stranger's body, shadowing the surprised observer like Wile E. Coyote might in a cartoon.

“I can see your wig, Mother!”

Though Lolly's body was small and fragile, there was no mistaking—even from a distance—her mother's teased, flame red wig and rainbow makeup. From a distance, Lolly looked like a falling meteor.

Arden watched her daughter motion with both arms for her to take a seat. When Arden refused, Lauren crossed her hands in mock prayer. “Please!” she mouthed.

Arden stepped down off her bleacher and sat with a thud, crossing her arms in displeasure.

Tu-li-tu-li-tu-li-tulip time!

The choir finished its song with a weak warble, and was immediately replaced by an Up North bellow:

“We begin da pageant with da evening gown competition!” the emcee yelled, reverb causing the crowd to cover their ears. “Contestant number one is Molly Von Mancipher!”

Slowly, the contestants walked the runway, stopping in the center to pose, turn, and smile. One by one, Dutch blonde after Dutch blonde winked, blew kisses, tossed tulips, and pirouetted.

This is like the movie
Groundhog Day 
… I have to watch my life over and over again,
Arden thought, grimacing
.

“Our final contestant is Lauren Lindsey from Chicago
and
Scoops! We have quite da world traveler!”

As Lauren took the stage, Arden watched her daughter gracefully float across the platform, as effortlessly as one of the white clouds bouncing overhead. Lauren stopped in midstage, posed, and turned.

Don't fall! Don't fall!
Arden thought, tugging her earlobe and clamping her eyes shut in a panic, reciting the line in her head like a prayer, fingering the handle on her purse as if it were a rosary.

Don't fall! Don't fall!
she prayed.

She opened them as Lauren continued to walk—beaming a smile with complete confidence.

NO! Is that … could that be…?
Arden's eyes widened.

Arden stood again, her hands over her mouth. She realized her daughter was wearing the same dress she had worn, the
exact
gown her mother had made for her decades earlier. And yet the yellow dress with the train of tulips that had looked so garish on her looked totally different on her daughter. Lauren was happy, beautiful, confident.

Arden's negative thoughts were swept from her head and replaced with a positive one:

The difference is my daughter is happy to be here, proud to wear that dress, proud to be a
Lindsey.

From a distance, Lauren resembled a beautiful tulip come to life, sunshine radiating on her. Lauren's long hair had been pulled into a soft updo, blond tendrils falling around her face, chandelier earrings dangling to complement the simplicity.

All around her, the crowd buzzed. “Who is that?” “She's beautiful!” “Lindsey? No! Is
she
related to Lolly Lindsey? Was her mother Ar-don't…?”

As the applause and whispering subsided, one other sound caught Arden's ears. In fact, she could hear it even in the bleachers, yards away from the platform. As Lauren crossed the runway, Arden noticed the only other jewelry Lauren sported was her own
and
her grandmother's charm bracelets.

Arden could feel her heart in her throat. Without thinking, she gripped Jake's hand. He put his arm around her.

“She looks just like you and your mother,” he said, reaching out to kiss her on the cheek.

Arden smiled as Lauren exited the platform as if walking on air.

“Now for da talent competition!” the speakers boomed.

Arden's stomach lurched. The memory of her debacle—Tiny Tim, the ukulele, the wig, falling into the water—overwhelmed her, as the contestants began to dance, sing, and twirl batons on the platform. She tugged furiously at her lobe.

“Everything is going to be all right,” Jake said, pulling her in close to reassure her. “
Everything!
”

“Our final contestant … Lauren Lindsey.”

Arden gritted her teeth, her molars emitting an audible grinding sound.

As Lauren walked out, two pageant workers zipped onto the deck. One hastily set up an easel and placed a canvas on it, while another placed paints, a brush, and some water on a little table.

“I know this isn't as exciting as singing, or dancing … or my mom,” Lauren said, eliciting a few titters from the crowd, “but I've never really put my talent on display for the world to see, or followed my calling. But I learned that now is the time.”

Arden watched her daughter look offstage, and then Lauren began to paint.

“Picasso once said, ‘Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up,'” Lauren said to the crowd, as her brush danced over the canvas. “I never understood what he meant until recently … until I've gotten to know my grandmother—my family—a lot better.”

Lauren quieted and continued to paint, the jangling of her charm bracelet carried on the breeze.

“Painting is like life,” she said. “It requires a lot of patience, a lot of faith, a lot of passion. The beauty in great painting is capturing the emotion underneath the subject.”

Lauren set her brush down, picked up the canvas, and began walking toward the crowd.

“This is the story of my family.”

Lauren stopped and turned the portrait toward the audience, three generations of women seated together at the end of a warped dock, their images in the foreground older, wiser, damaged but strong, while their reflections in the water were from their youth—younger, sadder, lost but hopeful.

“This is a story of home … of
here
.”

The crowd erupted in cheers, many standing to yell, “How much?” or “I want that.”

“I'm overwhelmed,” Arden said into Jake's strong shoulder, as he drew her in. “I thought … I expected…”

“Then stop,” Jake said, as the crowd continued to cheer. “Expectations are just preconceived resentments.”

Arden pulled away, her face etched in surprise. “Let me guess? Not Deepak Chopra?”

“No,” Jake said. “Just a guy who has seen a lot of life and death. In the end, I think we all just want the same things: Family, happiness, love, faith.”

“I've always felt like the world was stacked against me,” Arden said.

“The world is stacked against everyone, Arden,” Jake said. “But now I'm here for you.”

He patted his shoulder, and Arden rested her head on it, as the emcee's voice squeaked over the speakers.

“Last up,” the announcer said, “da Q and A.”

“I never made it this far,” Arden said.

“Really? I'm shocked. Your question could have been, ‘Is that the backstroke or the dog paddle?'” Jake teased, giving Arden a hug.

Arden melted into a puddle of laugher.

“My question to today's contestants is this,” the emcee stated. “Name da most influential person in your life.”

Girl after girl responded: “Daddy,” “Jesus,” or “Tom Izzo, the Michigan State basketball coach.”

“Finally, Lauren Lindsey,” the emcee said, as the group of contestants stood on the platform over the river. “Please name da most influential person in your life.”

Lauren stepped to the mic in the middle of the stage, stared out over the river and then scanned the crowd.

She stopped and caught her breath. When she began again, her voice was as wavy as the current of the Scoops River.

“My grandmother,” she said. “Life has not always been easy on her: She's lost everything and everyone, at one time, and yet she has somehow managed not only to survive but also to believe in the beauty of the world. She has remained an optimist. She has fun in this life, no matter what. I've learned that you can plan your life all you want, but you can't control it. You have to dive headfirst into it, experience its joys and pains … you have to live … and then you have to share those stories with the ones you love before it's too late.”

Lauren stopped and cleared her throat. Quiet enveloped the bleachers. Lauren could hear the wind float across the water, and, as it did, catch her charm bracelets and make them sing. She looked over at the ancient weeping willow, whose arms were sweeping in the river, singing in the breeze, joyously telling the secrets of its own past. Lauren smiled and said, “Grandma, would you join me on stage?”

Lolly—as bright as the sun—slowly made her way out to the platform. Lauren took her hand, and brought her into her body.

“This pageant has long been my grandmother's dream. Her whole life, she's supported everyone else's dreams, sacrificed herself to make others happy. I wouldn't be standing here today without her.”

Lauren hesitated but continued. “We need to take time to get to know our elders, because they have led lives we can barely imagine. I've come to appreciate that our elders—our grandmothers—are not only the pillars of our families, the charms in our lives, but also the bridges to our past and the steppingstones to our future. Today is not only for my grandmother, but for all the grandparents in the world who fought for all of us to have better lives.”

There was silence for a few seconds, before the crowd began to clap. That applause turned into a roar, and, quickly, the crowd was on its feet, screaming. Arden looked around: Many were wiping tears from their faces.

“That's my daughter!” Arden began to yell, pointing toward the stage. “And that's my mother! Lolly!”

As the applause died down and the judges began to deliberate, Arden looked up at the pines and the birch that circled the park, and she smiled. Arden could see her mother in those trees: They bent but never broke; they believed good days were to come in spite of the often bad weather; they loved the simplicity of nature and life; and they were always reaching toward heaven.

“What is it?” Jake asked.

“Is this what it's like to be happy?” Arden asked.

Jake studied her face, uncertain of what she was asking.

“To just be in the moment?” she continued. “Not running or planning or working. Just enjoying this very second of life, without trying to perfect it, change it, or run from it?”

“Yes,” Jake said.

“I like happy,” Arden replied. “It's a very nice place. Like Michigan.”

She stopped.

“And I also … well, I also … really like you,” Arden said, finally saying the words she had longed to get out.

Jake grabbed Arden's face and kissed her, inhaled her, held her, and didn't stop even after the crowd began to catcall. Jake removed a hand from behind Arden's neck and began to encourage the crowd with it.

“And I really like you, too, Arden,” Jake said, pulling Arden into his big body.

“Da judges have da decision!” the emcee announced over the loudspeaker.

Arden jerked upright. “Here we go!”

“I didn't think you wanted to be here,” Jake razzed her.

“Ssshhhh!”

“Ladies and gentlemen, it's now time to announce da first runner-up and new Tulip Queen. Are you ladies ready?”

The twenty girls clutched hands and clamped their eyes shut. “The first runner-up is … Tara Milligan!”

A pretty blonde in an eggplant-colored gown claimed her tulips and a new sash, and stepped to the side.

“And, now, da moment we've all been waiting for … the Seventy-Fifth Annual Tulip Queen is … Lauren Lindsey!”

The crowd screamed its approval, and Arden didn't realize she was crying until she could taste her mascara.

The emcee placed a Tulip Queen sash across Lauren's shoulder while the outgoing queen placed a crown atop Lauren's blond head and handed her a huge bouquet of colorful tulips and a little box wrapped in a bright ribbon.

“Introducing your 2014 queen, Lauren Lindsey! Lauren, you may take your coronation walk!”

Lauren raised her arms and waved to the crowd as she made her way across the platform. At the end of the platform, she held out her arms, and her grandmother came running into them. The two then walked—hand in hand—back across the stage. Lolly raised her left arm, and cupped her hand, waving it like a true queen.

She's waited her whole life for this moment,
Arden thought, and smiled.

She stopped, watching her mother and daughter, and then amended that thought:
Lauren has waited her whole life for this moment, too.

Lauren stopped in the middle of the platform, removed the crown, and bent over and placed it on her grandmother's head, securing it to her wig. Lolly touched it, ran her hands over the points and rhinestones, as if it were magical, and then hugged her granddaughter tightly.

Both returned to the coronation area, where the contestants mobbed them. Arden grabbed Jake's hand and began dragging him down the bleachers.