Simple Gifts Read online

  “I understand, Mrs. Moss. My husband walked out on me and left me with a two-year-old child to raise. It wasn’t a happy time in my life. I’m sure we shared mutual fears.”

  An emotional catch filled her tone. “I wanted Eugene with me.”

  What did Eugene have (other than a missing foot) that attracted so many women? It wasn’t steadfast loyalty; he’d proven that many times over. Good looks? Never. But the man was a salesman and charismatic to the core. Evidently what he did best was sell himself. I’d never seen the fascination, but then I had been a child, immune to the fatal attraction.

  I did recall Beth talking about the time Ingrid discovered Eugene and Prue’s peccadillo. She packed all his clothes, drove to his office, and set the three bags inside the door. When the secretary frowned her confusion, Ingrid stated, “When you see Eugene, tell him he’s moved.”

  But then he’d showed up and sweet-talked Ingrid into letting him move back in. Temporarily, as it worked out. Ingrid still loved him.

  “Ingrid is aware of your deep devotion to Eugene and she sympathizes.” Not exactly a lie. Ingrid wasn’t made of stone, as I’d discovered during our long talk. “So here’s what I propose.”

  I was taking a big chance of inflicting irreversible harm. Prue could clam up and keep the case alive and in the court system for years, but “nothing ventured nothing gained.” How often had I heard Aunt Beth express the old saying?

  Dead silence on the other end of the line.

  “Mrs. Moss?”

  Silence. She had hung up on me. Marlene! Now you’ve done it; Herman’s statue wasn’t enough of a boiling cauldron, now you’ve got Prue on an even bigger warpath.

  “Marlene! Are you still on the phone?”

  I didn’t answer Ingrid’s bellowed question, just dropped my voice. “Mrs. Moss…are you still there?”

  Silence.

  I leaned over and tapped the receiver on the kitchen counter, then raised it back to my ear. “Hello.”

  “What’s all that racket coming from?”

  “Sorry, I wasn’t sure if we were still connected.” One excuse was as good as another, I guessed. Now if I could just keep her on the line.

  “Marlene! I’m coming in there!”

  I was running out of time. “Okay, here’s my plan. Drop the lawsuit that’s costing you time and dredging up painful memories. Eugene was a great man, but he loved women—-all women. You know that, Ingrid knows that. He loved you, I’m certain of that. But he loved Ingrid, too, so you ladies can fight until the moon falls out of the sky, but in the end, you’ll both be not only financially strapped but emotionally whipped.”

  I knew I had her attention. “I propose that you and Ingrid make peace. I know that won’t be easy, and it doesn’t have to be accomplished overnight. It took the Lord six days to create the world; you and Ingrid can take all the time you need. With the money you save, you can take a relaxing cruise around the world. Enjoy life.”

  “What are you suggesting? That I forget that I had a husband, never be allowed to visit his grave, grieve his loss?”

  “No, not at all. I’m suggesting—no, I’m inviting you—to share Eugene. Here in Parnass Springs. Ingrid is a wealthy woman; she has the power and the funds to bring Uncle Eugene here and bury his remains with his…foot. Drop your suit, allow her to bring Eugene here, to Parnass Springs, and every Memorial Day you can fly to Missouri and honor your husband.”

  “That’s ludicrous. Why would I spend good money to fly to Missouri once a year when I could have Eugene here?”

  “Would you do it if I sent you a round-trip ticket every May?” The offer would mean overtime work for me, but it would be a blessing to do something for these two women to put them out of their misery. And my hair. Besides, Prue had money. I was counting on curiosity to prompt her to pay her own way—maybe coming more than once a year. After all, she had past ties to Parnass. She lived a short distance from town when she met Eugene and fell for his winning ways.

  “Oh…I don’t know…I’m not sure…”

  “I don’t need an answer today. Just think about it.” My eyes fixed on the clock. I’d been on the phone five minutes.

  “Marlene!”

  “I’ll call you over the weekend, Mrs. Moss. Please pray about your answer.” I hung up. I didn’t know what Prue must think of my hasty departure, but Ingrid was about to birth a cat.

  This was the woman who had more money than the Kennedys. And she was screaming about a few dollars!

  My aunt rolled into the kitchen. “What’d the old witch say?”

  “She isn’t an old witch; Eugene hurt her, too, Aunt Ingrid.”

  “You’re taking her side! You’re just like my sister. When I needed her most, Beth wasn’t there.”

  “I’m taking sanity’s side. Aunt Beth never betrayed you. She was put between her sister and a very dear friend. Beth didn’t orchestrate Eugene’s infidelity.”

  I understood better than I wanted. In my own pridedriven fallacy, I’d thought Noel would change if he wanted to. Who was at fault in that relationship? Me, for running away and marrying a man I didn’t love, running from my past, shutting God out of my life, going it alone, and asking nothing of anybody? Or Noel, who took what he wanted and walked away when he tired of it? Looking back, I realized I’d expected his faithlessness, and he’d not proved me wrong. Maybe I’d even encouraged it.

  I made Aunt Ingrid and myself a cup of hot tea and sat down at the table. We had a long talk before us—one I didn’t relish. Prue might be softening, but I had serious doubts Ingrid would be the voice of reason.

  “I have something to discuss with you.”

  “I’m keeping the foot.”

  “That’s fine.”

  She eyed me over the top of her spectacles. “Am I going to like this?”

  Probably not. When had she ever liked anything that wasn’t her idea? “Give it a chance, okay?”

  Ingrid’s expression settled into the familiar stubborn line. “I’m making no promises.”

  “Just listen, that’s all I ask.”

  As I explained my solution, her lips tightened, her expression hardened with every word. “Why should I spend my money to move Eugene here? If the hussy wants him moved, let her do it.”

  “She doesn’t plan to move him, just visit the foot. It would be nice if you’d consent to move him—all of him—here. Then Eugene would be…intact.” A whole man to fight over, per se.

  “I’m keeping the foot.”

  “If you’ll go with the plan, you’ll have both Eugene and his foot. You’re always complaining about having to take flowers to a foot.” Ingrid wasn’t really listening to my efforts for peace.

  “And why would that woman ever show her face in Parnass again?”

  “Doesn’t she have family here? I thought she was local.”

  “Got a sister. Nice woman. Nothing like the hussy.”

  “Then she can come back for a visit and pay her respects at the same time.”

  “What’s in it for me?”

  God, give me strength.

  “A truce. Money not spent on attorney fees.” I studied the wheelchair, about to say health, but changed my mind.

  Her chin tilted. “I can afford to pay a lawyer.”

  “I know you can, but why would you want to make R J Rexall a rich man?”

  That stopped her, but not for long. “Foot still belongs to me.”

  “Forget the foot. This is not about the foot. I’m talking about having all of Eugene brought here!”

  “You don’t have to shout, Marlene. I’m not deaf.”

  “I’m sorry. What do you think about my plan?”

  She wheeled the chair toward the door. “I’ll think about it.”

  Well, that was progress of a sort, I guessed.

  Midmorning, I went to the park. Ingrid had kept me busy since I’d been back, but today I had some heavy thinking to do. So I headed for the park, hoping the swings would be empty. If Lily was there, maybe
I could talk her into switching from the slide to the swings.

  I scanned the swings—empty, the way I’d hoped—and made a beeline for the first one, not wanting to waste time. I lowered myself into the seat, gripped the chain with both hands, and pushed back with my feet. A moment later I was flying, pumping my legs to go higher. The adrenaline surge was awesome, as purifying as ever. I pictured myself as a child again, swinging alone, trying to work through problems too numerous and too deep to understand.

  Suddenly, someone caught me on the back swing. I felt the jerk, and then strong hands gave me a push. I twisted around to see who my benefactor was. Vic, of course. Why was I surprised? His presence was so natural, it felt like air. For a time the problems between us evaporated, and we were just Marlene and Vic, swinging in the park.

  He pushed me again, harder this time. I arched back, pointing my feet toward the sky. Higher and higher I flew, catching the wind through my hair. We didn’t speak; words weren’t needed.

  After a bit, he caught me, stopping the swinging motion. My feet touched the ground, and I knew the time had come to talk. He led me to a picnic table and I followed, pulse fluttering like a drumbeat—whether from Vic and how much I loved him, or from pure guilt, I didn’t know. He sat down and motioned for me to take the bench on the other side of the table. I swallowed, determined to tell the truth and put the deceitful years behind, no matter what the consequences. “How did you know I’d be here?”

  “I was passing and saw you. The sight of you swinging took me back to old times. I remembered the park was your think tank.”

  “And the magic still works. Swinging relaxes me; helps put my thoughts in perspective.”

  “I didn’t know it was a practice you continued.”

  I grinned. “I didn’t. Wish I could, but I think my neighbors in Glen Ellyn would think I’m…” Not long ago I would have said nuts, but I’d decided I was going to start talking nicer to myself and about myself.

  We sat silent for a minute before Vic spoke. “Ingrid all right?”

  “Like always. She and Prue are still fighting over Eugene’s foot. I can’t imagine why either of them would want it, but they do.” Stop dallying, Marlene! Blurt it out! Let him blast you for the lies—the years of wasted trust!

  “Two stubborn women; might as well go along with their follies.”

  “Too stubborn for words.” If only they would discuss the matter logically, their differences could be worked out…

  Shut my mouth. Why did I think that way but refuse to practice my own remedies? The expectancy on Vic’s face said he was thinking the exact same thing. The moment passed. Vic was too much of a gentleman to point out the comparison.

  He shifted. “They’ll work out the foot ownership, and if they don’t, it gives them something to occupy their time. If not for our differences, what would life be?”

  “You’re right.” Here it comes. Differences. Lies. Explosion. I opened my mouth to confess, but nothing came out. I couldn’t bear to see the disgust on his face, the betrayal.

  Silence.

  I cleared my throat. “I’m working on a compromise acceptable to both Ingrid and Prue.” I told him about my plan, and he agreed it could work.

  “You’re brave.” He winked. “Don’t be upset it they refuse to listen.”

  I picked up a dry twig from the tabletop and proceeded to break it into little pieces. “Joe was over and brought his latest invention.”

  “Ah, the Glass Robot? What’d you think?”

  “Loud.”

  I piled the broken pieces of twig on the table, concentrating on what I was doing. Anything to keep from looking him in the eye.

  I glanced up and his eyes were kind, but there was remoteness in his expression, one I’d never seen before. All was not well between us. Why didn’t he confront me? Why didn’t I tell him the truth? Coward! You don’t want the final break—-the irreversible snap that can never be repaired. I looked away. “Well, I’m finally coming to grips with my memories of Herman.”

  “That’s good. You could never see your father the way the rest of us did.”

  I recognized the truth when I heard it. I’d wanted Herman to be like other people, not different. I’d been ashamed of the way he looked, the way he behaved, the comments sent our way.

  “Not everyone liked Herman. You heard them at the meeting. Some of them were repulsed by him; others felt he was a nuisance.” And they hadn’t hesitated to say so, not caring that Ingrid and I were sitting in the same room, having to endure their remarks.

  “You have to expect negative people,” Vic said. “Not everyone has the maturity or ability to see beauty in someone like Herman. They tend to shrink away, afraid to touch or be touched.”

  “There but for the grace of God, go I.”

  “Most of us, when we look at another’s misfortune, may sympathize. But a part of us will be thanking God it didn’t happen to us.”

  I wasn’t like that, was I? I thought back to some of the patients I’d worked with…and cringed. Maybe I wasn’t as far removed from that attitude as I liked to think.

  “It’s normal,” Vic offered. “None of us want to be different. We all want to be accepted, to fit in. Herman never did and he knew it.”

  “Herman didn’t choose his life.” No one chose who they were born to or what genes they carried. Parents were a turkey shoot.

  “God doesn’t promise us the ride will be smooth, but he does promise to go with us every mile of the way.”

  For a moment I was caught up in silent thoughts. “It seems like he could prevent a lot of our problems, if he would.”

  “It doesn’t work like that, Marly. God can do everything, that’s true, but if nothing bad happened in our lives, we might get the idea that we didn’t need him.”

  “So he lets bad things happen to show us we need him? I’m not sure I’m up to the test.”

  “You are. He lets life happen, and sometimes what we think is a burden is really a blessing. Herman touched a lot of people in this town, in ways he couldn’t have done if he had been normal.”

  “I can accept that—I can even accept the differences in people and be glad of them, but it’s been a long road getting here. It’s been hard for me to see that each of us is a unique individual. I think if I were God, I’d have made everyone alike.”

  “Right.” He grinned. “Could the world survive two Marlys?”

  It couldn’t.

  He reached for my hand. “Think of how boring life would be if we were all carbon copies of one other.”

  “We could be perfect.” I smiled when I said it, knowing that human nature being what it was, perfection wasn’t possible.

  “Perfect is highly overrated. God did a wonderful thing when he made us all different.”

  “I feel so guilty.” I looked down at the table. “I didn’t even try to accept Dad, not really. Something inside me cared more about what other people thought than about Herman’s feelings, but I loved him, Vic. I’m just beginning to realize how much, and what I missed by not coming home more often.”

  “We can’t undo the past; all we can do is ask for forgiveness and try to do better.”

  “It’s surprising how each of us have different gifts. You have a gift with animals.”

  “And you have a gift with people. Nursing is a thankless job. At least my animals give me a friendly nudge every now and then.”

  Twenty-five years in the nursing field. Did I want to go back? Did I want the long shifts, the stress, eating poorly, and dealing with Sara’s problems day after day…? “Herman had simple gifts.”

  Vic agreed. “He was always happy, glad to see his friends, willing to help with anything they needed.”

  “And he loved animals. He was good with them too. It’s fitting that he built the animal shelter. His gift to the town.”

  “He gave more than the shelter to the town. He gave the town his love. How many can say that?”

  Sighing, my hands tightened on his. “He nev
er seemed to mind that he was different, not openly. Maybe his difference didn’t bother him the way it did me.”

  “What’s the old saying? What you don’t know can’t hurt you.”

  “But in Herman’s case it did hurt him, and by the very people who want to honor him now.”

  “Well, people change, grow older, experience life. They let us down, walk away from us.”

  There it was: the perfect opening for me to break down the wall, confess my sin and clear the air between us…but I hesitated, and the moment passed. The old Marlene—-the one who knew she’d lose him forever when the lie was voiced—shrank.

  Sighing, Vic got up. “I have to go. Dad will wonder where I am.”

  I searched his face, looking for anger, but seeing only a remote sadness. “Yeah, Ingrid has probably called neighbors to look for me. She’ll be sure something has happened to me.”

  The frown disappeared and he chuckled. “Your aunt is a piece of work—no disrespect intended.”

  “None taken.” Ingrid was Ingrid; she never worried about how others would accept her behavior. She did whatever she liked, and if you didn’t approve, you could get over it. If she and Millicent Spencer ever clashed, I wanted to be there to see it.

  The chuckle turned to a friendly grin. “Good to see you, Marly. I’m glad Sara is doing better. I was concerned when I heard about the baby scare.”

  “Thank you. I was too.”

  He turned and walked away. Another opportunity, maybe my last, to make amends slipped away. Would I ever have enough nerve to talk to him about the truth? To make him understand why I would perpetrate this fraud on him—my best friend. I didn’t know, but it was clear he didn’t intend to make the first move.

  “Vic!”

  He turned around.

  “Vic…” When I told him, it would be over. Forever. God, grant me the strength to do this.

  “Yes, Marly?”

  “I…have a good day.”

  Disappointment crossed his features. Had he expected a confession? I’d expected to offer one. Father, I want to…I want to so badly! Inside I’m at war with evil and good. Please help me.

  “Yeah. You too.” He walked on, and the moment passed—-and I wondered if God would grant me another.