Carry the Light (11 page)

C
harlene had not been this nervous since high school when she was getting ready for the prom.

On Friday afternoon, she closed up Sweet Stuff at exactly five o'clock, leaving half a dozen orders for gift baskets unfilled for tomorrow. The butterflies were fluttering in her stomach as she drove to Aunt Dorothy's house.

She bypassed the avenue, which was clogged with commuters and the first of the weekend diners drawn to Welleswood's new restaurants. After winding through Welles Park, she took several small side streets along the route Ellie had suggested that morning during their walk, and parked in the driveway under the carport at Aunt Dorothy's house.

She was anxious to get inside to see how Aunt Dorothy had fared on her first full day at home alone since being discharged from the hospital late yesterday afternoon. She also had less than an hour to get showered and changed before Daniel arrived for his first weekend visit.

She had only spoken to him twice—last Tuesday when she had called to tell him Aunt Dorothy had been moved out of the emergency room, and again on Wednesday, to let him know that her aunt had not suffered another heart attack and would be released in a day or so. Since then, they had played telephone tag, and in his final message, he had told her he would be coming to Aunt Dorothy's on Friday and hoped to be there by six.

Stepping into the living room, Charlene spied the top of Aunt Dorothy's gray head, resting on the arm of the sofa as she lay facing Agnes Withers, who was in a chair doing a cross-stitch. Charlene could smell the pork roast she had put into the Crock-Pot that morning.

Mrs. Withers looked up and smiled. “You're right on time, Charlene,” she said, storing her stitchery in a canvas bag.

Aunt Dorothy turned her head, rose on one elbow and held up a necklace with a plastic pendant hanging from it. “Total Care came right at three o'clock today,” she reported before lying down again.

Charlene went to the sofa and knelt next to her aunt. In a bright pink bathrobe, Aunt Dorothy was still pale and looked exhausted, but she was breathing easily again. “I feel better now that the system has been installed, don't you?” Charlene asked.

Her aunt nodded, adjusted the necklace with the signal button resting at her collar bone and laid her hand on Charlene's knee. “Mr. James said I could wear this necklace to bed at night, but I don't think I will. I'd probably set it off by accident. You're here at night if I need help.”

“Mr. James was the nice man who installed the Total Care system, and he said she'd be better off wearing a bracelet instead of the necklace,” Mrs. Withers interjected with a scowl.

Charlene furrowed her brow. “Why didn't you take the bracelet instead?”

“I never cared much for bracelets, and now that I've been in and out of the hospital and forced to wear those awful plastic identification strips, I like them even less.”

Charlene smiled and patted her aunt's hand. “Then the necklace is a good choice.”

“There's a machine in your aunt's bedroom that's hooked up to the telephone, and it can be activated from anywhere in the house,” Mrs. Withers informed Charlene. “You'll need to check it every thirty days. All the information is in the paperwork that I put in your room,” she added, and looped the straps on her canvas bag over her arm. “I'll call you tomorrow morning, Dorothy, to see what time you need me to come over,” she said, and let herself out the front door.

Aunt Dorothy sighed, closed her eyes and folded her hands at her waist. “Agnes is a good soul and she means well, but I couldn't get much of a nap with her here. I'm just going to rest my eyes a spell while you get all gussied up for that handsome husband of yours. Even though it smells real good, I'm not real hungry, so don't hurry with dinner on my account.”

Charlene stroked the top of her aunt's head and got a smile in return. “I won't be long, but I'd love to shower so I don't smell like chocolate.”

Aunt Dorothy took a good long whiff. “You smell good to me, but you'll need to wear something that smells nicer to Daniel. Men don't seem to fancy chocolate like women do.”

“I've never been much for wearing perfume,” Charlene replied. In all truth, she usually relied on regular soap instead of scented body washes, too.

Aunt Dorothy opened one eye. “No toilet water? Ever?”

Charlene chuckled. “You're looking at me like I've just confessed to a serious sin.”

“Not so serious. Just a little foolish. A little toilet water usually captures a man's interest,” she murmured and shut her eyes. “Although I usually prefer to wear my Tabu, I've got all sorts of toilet water in the vanity in my bedroom. Pick one and wear it tonight. You'll see what I mean.”

Charlene shrugged. “I guess it can't hurt,” she replied. At this point in her relationship with Daniel, she was ready to try almost anything.

While her aunt dozed, Charlene showered and dressed in blue slacks and a flowered blouse. She blow-dried her hair and let it fall softly around her face rather than pulling it back. With barely ten minutes to spare, she went into her aunt's bedroom, turned on the light and sat in front of the vanity.

Unfortunately, she couldn't avoid seeing herself in the mirror. Her long, straight hair fell just below her shoulders, and she shook her head. Although the blond color was still attractive, the style was outdated. She should make an appointment for a cut, although she doubted she'd find any style as easy to manage as her ponytail. In the meantime, she opened the vanity drawers and found Aunt Dorothy's toilet water.

Sorting through the dusty bottles was like taking a museum tour. Lily of the Valley. Blue Midnight. Chantilly. And Tabu, of course.

Some of the bottles were empty; no doubt the contents had evaporated over the years. Others smelled like alcohol. Disappointed, she replaced the bottles, then saw an unopened fragrance gift set in one of the drawers. She took out a small blue bottle of perfume.

She sprayed a bit on the inside of her left wrist and held it up to her nose. It had a sweet, gentle scent.

Feeling adventurous, she sprayed both her wrists, and behind both her ears, adding a tiny spray at the hollow of her neck.

Then she bowed her head, closed her eyes, and prayed:
Father, we need Your guidance. Help Daniel and me to find our way back to one another again. Amen.

Hearing the front door open, she swallowed the lump in her throat and rose from her seat. The moment she entered the living room, her throat tightened with emotion again. Aunt Dorothy was still lying on the sofa. Daniel was on one knee, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He held a large bouquet of carnations, wrapped in florist's paper.

Charlene knew this image of her husband would join many others stored in her mind. And she knew, beyond any doubt, that she had loved this kind and gentle man from the moment she had met him. She'd loved him then. She loved him now. And she would love him forever.

When he stood up, he faced Charlene and put a finger to his lips. “She's sleeping,” he whispered.

Charlene stepped toward him and he put his arm around her. As always, he bent for a kiss, then he quickly stole another, which was so unusual she felt her heart skip a beat. “You smell as good as these flowers,” he murmured.

“Why don't we go into the kitchen so I can put them in water for Aunt Dorothy,” she whispered.

He followed her. “There are two bouquets inside the wrapper,” he told her. “One is for you.”

She swallowed hard again, unable to recall the last time he had brought her flowers. “Thank you,” she managed to say.

While she looked for vases, he lifted the lid on the Crock-Pot. “This smells great. New recipe?”

“I found it in the recipe book that came with the Crock-Pot. It's pork teriyaki. Hungry?”

He patted his stomach. “Starving. I'm not much for cooking for myself. How's Aunt Dorothy doing, really?”

Charlene, feeling a brief stab of regret for not being at home to cook for him, washed out two dusty vases and unwrapped the flowers as she answered. “She's very weak and very tired, but the doctors say she's doing as well as can be expected.”

“But she didn't have a heart attack?” he asked, pulling out a piece of pork and nibbling at it.

“Not this time. Her lungs were starting to fill with fluid, but they've got that under control again,” she replied as she arranged one bouquet of pastel carnations. “Every time I ask how long she might have, I get the same answer.”

He put the lid back on the Crock-Pot. “What's that?”

“The doctors say that Aunt Dorothy is eighty-one years old, and to make every moment count.”

He sighed. “That's probably pretty good advice.”

“But they won't say how much those moments will add up to, although no one seems to think I should worry beyond the next few months.” Blinking back tears, she finished the other arrangement.

“Does Aunt Dorothy say anything about it?” he asked, taking a step closer to her.

“One minute she says she's ready for the Lord to take her Home, but in the next breath, she's talking about going to sunrise services on Easter morning or celebrating her eighty-second birthday in September,” she replied. “I talked to the kids this week. They each said they'd try to come soon. Since neither can be here for Easter, they're going to try to figure out another weekend that works for them both.”

He reached out and touched a carnation. “So you'll need to stay here with her…”

She turned to face him. “I can't leave her. She needs help bathing and dressing. She's not up to cooking for herself, and she certainly doesn't have the strength for housework. I'm not certain how long I'll need to be here, but I promised her I wouldn't force her to go into a nursing home.”

“We both promised her,” he said softly, and his blue eyes filled with compassion. “If she's here with us, we'll take her to Easter sunrise services, get Greg and Bonnie here for a weekend together, and we'll plan on throwing a birthday party for Aunt Dorothy in September. In the meantime, whatever else she wants or whatever it is that she needs, we'll see that she has it.”

Charlene dropped her gaze. Touched by his support and his commitment to family, she also realized they were having a real conversation together, the way they used to. “Daniel, I—”

A knock at the back door interrupted her and ruined the intimate moment.

When Daniel opened the door, Agnes Withers tiptoed into the kitchen. “I didn't want Dorothy to know I came back, so I waited until I saw the light in the kitchen,” she explained in a whisper. She glanced at the flowers on the counter before looking directly at Charlene. “I think you should have Dorothy's hearing checked, but remember not to tattle on me.”

Charlene held back a sigh. Aunt Dorothy might be failing, but her hearing seemed just fine. “Aunt Dorothy had a full examination at the hospital,” she said, hoping that would satisfy the woman.

“Well, she can't hear like she used to. I tried watching television with her today, and she made me put the sound up so high, I got a headache and turned it off.”

Charlene stifled a grin. There was nothing wrong with Aunt Dorothy's tactics, either.

Mrs. Withers tilted her chin up. “I hope you can do something so I don't miss any of my shows when I'm here,” she said before she turned and smiled at Daniel. “Those carnations are quite pretty. You must have brought them.”

“As a matter of fact, I stopped on my way here to get them,” he confirmed. When he caught Charlene's gaze, she answered his unspoken question with a quick nod.

“I brought one bouquet for Aunt Dorothy, but the other one is for you—for being such a good neighbor.”

Charlene handed him one of the vases, which he held in one hand while taking Agnes Withers's arm with the other. “Why don't you let me carry these back to your house for you?”

The elderly woman blushed and blinked hard several times. “For me? Really?”

“Consider it a token of appreciation for your help,” Charlene said. “Now that Daniel is here for the weekend, he'll be helping Aunt Dorothy when I'm at the store tomorrow afternoon, so you can just relax at home.”

“It's no bother. Really. I don't mind coming over to stay with Dorothy,” Mrs. Withers argued as Daniel led her to the back door.

“I'd really like to spend time with Aunt Dorothy since I can't be here all week,” he informed her, ushering her out. He turned to give Charlene a wink before he shut the door, an unexpected gesture that suddenly, sweetly opened the door to her heart.

Smiling, she left the kitchen and went straight to the vanity in Aunt Dorothy's bedroom to take possession of that bottle of perfume.

A
unt Dorothy presided over breakfast the following morning, wearing a green-and-yellow striped housecoat. On the collar, she had tucked a pink carnation from her bouquet. Instead of Tabu, however, she was wearing Lily of the Valley.

She polished off the last of her oatmeal and took a sip of decaffeinated coffee. “I think we should celebrate the three of us being together,” she said, looking directly at Daniel. “Be a sweetheart and get a treat for us from the freezer that we can share for dessert.”

He cocked his head. “The freezer? Please don't tell me you want ice cream for dessert. It's barely eight o'clock in the morning.”

“And the last I checked, you had already eaten the jelly donut from McAllister's,” Charlene said, feeling smug that she had successfully hidden the second jelly donut by mislabeling it as creamed spinach.

Unfortunately, she had been less successful recapturing the tenderness between herself and her husband after he'd returned from escorting Mrs. Withers home last night. They had not had any time alone together to talk, since he had gone to bed early and was still asleep when she'd gone out earlier to meet Ellie for their walk.

For now, however, Charlene was satisfied that taking care of Aunt Dorothy was bringing them closer, although they still had a long way to go.

Aunt Dorothy ignored Charlene's comment and smiled coyly at Daniel. “If you check the right side of the freezer, I believe you'll find a foil package marked ‘creamed spinach.'”

He grimaced, but got up from his seat. “I take back what I said. Maybe ice cream would be a better choice for dessert, after all.”

“Not really,” Charlene mumbled, recognizing that Aunt Dorothy was on to her.

Her aunt looked at her and grinned. “Just bring it over here to me.”

“How long did it take you to figure it out?” Charlene asked, surprised that her aunt had not already consumed the donut.

Aunt Dorothy chuckled. “I figured it out before I went to bed that first night. I knew you'd brought me two jelly donuts because I watched you wrap them up. I only found one later, so I started rooting through the other packages. I don't favor creamed spinach, which made me suspect you'd played a bit of a trick on me.”

Charlene cringed. “I'll have to plead guilty, but I only meant to keep you from eating too much sugar.”

Aunt Dorothy patted Charlene's hand. “In a way, I suppose you did. I can't tell you how many times I wanted to tell you I'd discovered your little trick, but I was having too much fun.”

Charlene sighed, grateful that her aunt found the whole affair amusing.

Bemused, Daniel put the frozen package on the table and sat down again. “That's really a jelly donut?”

Grinning, Aunt Dorothy peeled away the silver foil. Sure enough, one of McAllister's donuts sat in the center—a fat, sugar-crusted donut with cream in the middle.

Charlene leaned forward and stared at the frozen confection. “That's…that's not the jelly donut I wrapped up for you!”

Aunt Dorothy beamed with triumph. “Nope. That's one of the cream donuts Annie brought me last week, and I just couldn't resist having a little fun with you. I so enjoyed that jelly donut you wrapped up for me the morning Annie came to see me, but I had even more fun watching you check that freezer every time you opened it to get something out, and think you'd gotten the best of me.”

Charlene shook her head. Balancing her aunt's rights with her own responsibilities as caregiver was so hard. Occasionally allowing her aunt to make her own decisions about what she ate, however, seemed not only fair, but right. “I'm sorry. I was only trying to—”

“Don't be sorry,” her aunt insisted as she pushed the donut toward Daniel. “Slice that up for us into three pieces, Daniel. It's frozen hard. You're so much stronger than either of us, I'm sure you'll manage slicing it without any effort at all,” she said coyly before she turned back to Charlene. “Playing that little game with you made me remember how much fun your mother and I used to have teasing each other. You may not look much like her, but you have her great sense of humor. You truly are your mother's daughter, Charlene.”

Charlene blinked hard. Her mother had died only months after Charlene and Daniel had been married, and Charlene welcomed a chance to hear and talk about her. “You teased each other by playing tricks on one another?”

“All the time,” Aunt Dorothy replied, and placed a piece of donut in front of each of them. “Try this frozen. To my mind, it's the best way to eat a cream donut.”

Daniel tried a bite and shrugged. “It's okay, but I'm not a good judge. I don't really favor sweets, but I think I like the cream better when it's soft and gooey.”

“You try it, Charlene,” Aunt Dorothy urged as she nibbled her own piece.

Charlene took a tiny bite and then another. “It tastes even sweeter this way. I like it,” she declared and polished off the last bite.

“That's just what your mother said when I convinced her to try one frozen. Of course, she didn't always agree with me, especially when I outwitted her in one of our little games.”

“Tell us about one of those games,” Daniel urged and leaned back in his chair.

Aunt Dorothy thought for a moment, and smiled. “Marie and I both had a sweet tooth, even as youngsters, you know.”

Charlene grinned. “I'm afraid it's genetic, Daniel.”

“As I was saying,” Aunt Dorothy continued, “Marie and I both loved our sweets, but we also loved our toilet water.”

“I remember that about her. She always smelled real good, like you do,” Daniel put in and looked at Charlene almost shyly.

“That definitely wasn't genetic,” Charlene said. Judging by the look in Daniel's gaze, however, she hoped wearing a light scent could be an acquired habit.

“Father used to bring us each a bottle of toilet water now and then, and we'd trade back and forth,” Aunt Dorothy reminisced. “One time Marie gave me a bottle of Tabu. In return, I gave her half a bottle of Evening in Paris.”

“Half a bottle?” Daniel asked.

“Well, the bottle of Evening in Paris was twice the size of the Tabu. We always tried to keep things even, so when that happened, we'd pour the toilet water into tiny glass bottles we had for our baby dolls and label the scent. As a matter of fact, I still have most of them stored up in the attic,” she explained before popping the last bite of donut into her mouth.

“So how did you tease her that time?” Charlene asked.

“That was easy. I waited until she fell asleep one night, switched bottles with her and changed the labels. The next time she got all fixed up to go out with Gary Nelson, she doused herself real good with Tabu,” she admitted and started laughing again. “Marie tried washing it off, but she still smelled like Tabu when he came calling. I think he must have liked that scent a whole lot better than Evening in Paris, too.”

“Really?” Daniel asked. “Why?”

“It's the only thing that explains why he stopped by one day when Marie was at the library and asked if he could keep company with me instead of my sister.”

“You didn't say he could, did you?” Charlene asked.

Aunt Dorothy's gaze hardened. “All I gave him was a good tonguelashing! There isn't a man who has ever walked this earth who would have been worth hurting my sister. Blood's thicker than water—or in this case, toilet water.”

She turned and looked directly at Daniel. “Not all men have the same good heart you do, Daniel. I know you're not blood, but you're as good to me as any son or nephew could be, sharing your wife with me during the week to take care of me and coming down here yourself on weekends to help me. I won't forget you, either. After I'm gone, you and Charlene will both share everything I own.”

Daniel blushed, adding a rosy hue to his tanned features. “We're family. Let's hope we have lots of time to enjoy together.”

The elderly woman sighed and glanced from Daniel to Charlene. “I know what the doctors say and I know what this old body of mine is telling me, too, but I also know the good Lord will take me Home when He's good and ready. When He does, I pity you both,” she said with a hint of a smile on her lips. “You're going to have a mess of a time cleaning all my junk out of this house after I'm gone, and don't think for a minute you took care of most of it in that spare bedroom. There's a whole lot more in that attic,” she warned.

Charlene chuckled, grateful her aunt had used her sense of humor to lighten the sad mood after talking about her death. “We could always sort through some things while I'm here,” she offered.

“There's not much I care to see again right now, other than a good view of the creek behind my house,” her aunt replied.

“Which I'm ready to tackle today,” Daniel said as he rose from his seat.

When he started to clear the table, Aunt Dorothy shooed him away by waving her hand. “Charlene can take care of the kitchen. I need those muscles of yours outside.”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Then I'll get started right away.” He grabbed his coat and headed out the back door.

After he left, Aunt Dorothy rose from the table. “While you clean up, I'm going to get a few things from my bedroom. Meet me in the living room when you're finished. And don't dawdle. I'm thinking I might need a bit of a nap this morning, but you're right. I should probably show you some things before I do, just in case I'm still napping when you have to leave to open the store today.”

Curious, Charlene watched her aunt walk slowly from the kitchen and through the dining room. Once she had the dishes washed and the table wiped clean, she joined her aunt in the living room.

Aunt Dorothy was lying on the sofa with her head propped by a bed pillow and the black lap shawl with a purple fringe covering her legs. In addition to the tissue box and a plastic flower arrangement, her aunt had placed an old, square candy tin on the coffee table.

Aunt Dorothy scooted over on the sofa and patted the edge of the cushion by her side. “Sit with me and open that tin.”

Charlene did as she was told. Cautiously, she lifted the lid and glanced inside. Neatly lined up in a single layer were tiny cardboard jewelry boxes. Some had turned golden brown with age. Many carried the names of jewelry stores Charlene recognized, although most of them had closed down years ago.

“I've got a whole drawerful of costume jewelry I don't think is worth much to anyone but me, but I keep what little I do have that's valuable or important to me in that tin,” her aunt explained. “There's not much there, but once I'm gone, these will all belong to you. You can pass them down to Bonnie and your grandchildren someday. It's the least I can do to thank you for taking good care of me.”

Charlene blinked back tears. “I don't expect—”

“I know you don't,” her aunt argued. “And I'm afraid I'm being just a little selfish about this.”

“Selfish? You don't have a selfish bone in your body,” Charlene countered.

“We all have a touch of selfishness now and then,” her aunt cautioned. “I was hoping I could tell you about the jewelry. Each piece has a story, you know, and if I don't tell them to you, those stories will die with me. I'm hoping you'd like to hear them,” she whispered.”

“Of course I would,” Charlene said, then glanced down at her lap, counted the tiny boxes and put the tin back on the coffee table. “I think I should probably write down the stories, though. Would that be all right? I'm afraid I might never remember them all.”

Aunt Dorothy removed her glasses, put them on the coffee table, folded her hands on her lap and closed her eyes. “There's paper and a pencil in the kitchen.”

Charlene found a notepad and a pencil in one of the junk drawers quickly enough, and paused for just a moment to peek out the kitchen window. She couldn't see Daniel, but she could hear the snapping of tree limbs, and assumed he had started to trim.

By the time she got back to the living room, Aunt Dorothy was asleep and snoring. Loudly. “Apparently, you really did need that nap,” she mumbled, and adjusted the lap shawl.

Although tempted to take a peek inside one of the jewelry boxes, Charlene merely laid the notepad and pencil down next to the candy tin. She returned to the kitchen again to get tonight's supper into the Crock-Pot, hoping Aunt Dorothy would wake before Charlene had to leave to open the store at noon. If not, she might hear more about the stories tonight after supper.

She glanced at the kitchen clock when she finished making the pot roast. It was only nine-fifteen, and she had more than two hours before she needed to leave. In Grand Mills on a weekend with Daniel, she would have kept busy with laundry or other chores. Living here, however, she was loath to do anything that might disturb her aunt's sleep.

Then she remembered an important project that needed her attention—a project dear to her heart.

She tiptoed back to the spare bedroom, grabbed a coat and a pair of gloves and went straight outside to the backyard. The air was colder than usual for March, but the sun was bright and warmed the top of her head. She wasn't sure if Daniel wanted her help, and the look of surprise on his face when she found him tying up branches he had cut told her he hadn't expected to see her at all.