“You know it doesn’t go with our décor,” Mrs. Johnson said.
“Hell’s bells, woman, a man’s home is his castle. That’ll make a nice throne.” He winked at his girls.
“You’re the king, all right.” She touched him lightly on the cheek, then went into the kitchen and started pulling things
from the cupboards.
Slim’s Bible went to Olivia; Norm got twenty years’ worth of
The Old Farmer’s Almanac
when he said he’d been thinking about taking over Slim’s garden—something he and Cly could do together. We set the Last Supper
painting aside to donate to Hilltop Church.
At noon Irene Flanagan brought ham and cheese sandwiches for everyone. And a coconut cake. Goldie dropped off a plate of cookies
and hugged me. Doobie and PJ came by to eat a sandwich.
Fritz Brady took two pickup loads of boxes and assorted furniture to the VFW, giving the veterans a boost for next year’s
sale. When Mr. Johnson grew tired, Tuwana’s mom drove him and the two younger girls home in the Edsel. Olivia wanted me to
have Slim’s walnut desk from the spare bedroom so I’d have a nice place to write. At Olivia’s insistence, Daddy agreed to
take Slim’s braided rug, and somehow it just felt right.
“Slim would want you to have this.” Olivia handed Cly the backgammon board with the worn-smooth playing pieces. I could see
his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down when he thanked her.
The rooms echoed now that they were empty. I ached to hear Slim tell us another story or play another game of dominoes. To
hear his teakettle whistle on the stove and sniff the steam from a cup of Ovaltine. As I fought back tears, Daddy winked at
me and guided me toward the front door.
“Sis, I think we need a break.” He dug in his pocket and handed
me a fistful of quarters. “Why don’t you and Tuwana run over to Willy’s and get us all a Coke?”
The sun beat down on our backs as Tuwana and I walked up the center of the camp, our faces smudged and grit under our fingernails.
If normal had a name, this would be it. Tuwana and me, being ourselves in spite of everything. Every day a new beginning without
knowing what might be around the corner. Maybe something exciting. Maybe nothing. Goldie had been right. The Almighty had
seen us through some tough times.
Instead of reading
Gone with the Wind
, I had taken Mama’s New Testament from the hatbox and started reading the first chapter. With the whole summer ahead, I’d
have it read in no time. And I couldn’t wait.
After getting the Cokes from Willy’s, we headed back.
Graham Camp. Not even a dot on the map.
Under the shade of an elm tree, Daddy and Olivia sat in webbed folding chairs. Daddy whittled a long stick while Olivia watched,
her honey-colored hair escaping in loose strands from her topknot. No wonder. The only thing holding it was the stick Daddy
had given her a few nights ago. Now he was apparently making one to match it. Across the street Cly pointed out to Norm the
various rows of the garden while Norm nodded his head up and down.
“Here you go.” I handed over the ice-cold bottles.
Daddy pried off the tops with the hooked blade of his knife while Tuwana and I settled on the tickly grass. When I tilted
the bottle up, Grapette soda fizzed all the way down to my toes. I ran my hand across the top of the grass looking for four-leaf
clovers, but all I came up with was a dandelion tuft. Twirling it in my fingers I puffed out my cheeks and blew the snowy
top. Fuzzies floated in the air.
“You know, days like this don’t come along too often,” Olivia said. “Friends, neighbors, family. All of you helping out. I’ll
savor
this moment a long time. A dandelion day, that’s what I call it.” She smiled at Daddy, who reached across and took her hand
in his.
My heart did a little skip as I watched them.
Daddy and Olivia holding hands?
“I wonder what they’ll be like?” Tuwana said out of the blue.
“Who?” I asked.
“The people who move here. Daddy said the new family would move in July the first. You know we really do need some excitement,
something fun and totally cool.”
“Tuwana.” I planted my hands on my hips. “You are nuts! Totally.”
But my mind spun with possibilities.
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
Chasing Lilacs
by Carla Stewart
In her life before writing, Carla Stewart enjoyed a career in nursing and juggling the adventures of her four rambunctious
sons. She believes her experiences prepared her to write novels that answer some of life’s tough questions and offer hope
in our skid-marked world.
Carla launched her writing career in 2002 when she earned the coveted honor of being invited to attend Guideposts’ Writers
Workshop in Rye, New York. Since then, her articles have appeared in
Guideposts
,
Angels on Earth
,
Saddle Baron
, and
Blood and Thunder: Musings on the Art of Medicine
.
Most recently, Carla won two ACFW Genesis contests: one in the Historical Fiction category in 2007 and another for her Young
Adult entry in 2008.
Chasing Lilacs
is her debut novel.
She enjoys a good cup of coffee, great books, and weekend getaways with her husband. They live in Tulsa, Oklahoma, and are
somewhat partial to the little people in their lives—their six grandchildren.
Carla loves to hear from readers and invites you to contact her and learn more about her writing at
www.carlastewart.com
.