Dance, The (The Restoration Series Book #1): A Novel (6 page)

 10 

I
t was no use. The car door opened, and Uncle Henry stepped out onto the driveway, looking his way. Jim quickly pulled his Audi forward, as if he hadn’t stopped a few doors down to conjure up some escape plan. Uncle Henry wasn’t
that
bad, he reminded himself, then realized the words weren’t his; they were Marilyn’s. She’d thought he was harmless, a little eccentric maybe. “He’s just . . . unique.”

But for Jim, Uncle Henry was over the top. He seemed to perpetually live out in left field, always offering perspectives and ideas about life that didn’t fit anywhere in Jim’s world. And ever since Jim’s father had died, Uncle Henry had gotten it into his head that Jim needed an uncle in his life.

Uncle Henry was his father’s little brother. Considered the black sheep of the family in his father’s day. He was the hippie who’d found Jesus after almost dying of a drug overdose at Woodstock. He’d gotten cleaned up, then used the family money to graduate from Purdue with a master’s degree in American history. He’d spent the better part of his working life teaching high school and fiddling with antique cars.

“Hey, Jim,” Henry said, waving as Jim pulled his car into the driveway. “Just getting in from a round of golf?”

Jim drove into the open garage, turned off the car, and got out. “Yes.”

“How’d you do?”

“Pretty good, shot a seventy-nine.”

“Pretty good,” Henry repeated. “Seven over par? That’s a little better than pretty good.”

“I guess.” He walked back to the trunk, pulled his golf bag out, and set it in its place.

Uncle Henry walked up behind him. “Didn’t I used to beat you pretty regularly?”

“Maybe when I was thirteen,” Jim said.

Henry smiled. “That long ago?”

“You play anymore?”

“Not if I can help it,” Henry said. “Golf for me now is like that guy said, a good walk spoiled. If I’m going to pay that kind of money, I’ve gotta have more to show for it than a sore back and a lousy disposition.”

Jim smiled and thought of Harold’s efforts that morning. “So what brings you over this way? Not exactly in the neighborhood.” Uncle Henry lived in New Smyrna Beach, about a forty-minute drive from here.

“Actually, I kinda was. Buying a part for our old ’65 Midas mini motor home from a guy in Altamonte Springs. I’m restoring it, hopefully in time for Myra and me to make a trip to the Keys before hurricane season starts. I had to drive right past here on I-4. When I was praying this morning, I got a feeling I should stop by. Thought I’d come and see how you and Doug were faring.”

Me and Doug, Jim thought. He didn’t mention Marilyn. Did
Uncle Henry know what was going on? Part of his eccentricity was his relationship with God. Uncle Henry and Jim both went to church. They both believed in God, read the same Bible. But Uncle Henry always seemed to get these strong impressions when he prayed, and then he’d feel the need to act on them.

“You know, I told your father before he died that I’d look after you.”

See, it was saying things like that. Jim was certain his father wouldn’t have asked Uncle Henry to do something like that, especially considering he had never looked after Jim himself. Jim stood there in the garage, trying not to look his uncle in the eye. He was about to fabricate a story that would keep him from having to invite his uncle into the house. Better do it quick, he thought. It was getting pretty hot standing there in the garage. “Well, Doug and I are doing fine. I’d be doing a little better if he’d get a job like I’ve asked him to a hundred times.”

“Your business still pretty slow then?”

“Yeah, but that’s not it. It’s just . . . he needs to learn some responsibility.”

“Responsibility’s a good thing,” Henry said.

“Yes, it is. Say, Uncle Henry, I’d invite you in but—speaking of business—I’ve got to see a client in a little while, show him one of my properties. I just came home to get changed so I can head back out.”

“That’s all right. I’ve gotta get going in a few minutes anyway. So . . . how are things with you and Marilyn these days?”

“What? Why do you ask?”

“Well . . . I tried reaching you this morning, but I guess you had your ringer off while you were playing golf. So I called Douglas.”

Now Jim understood why Uncle Henry had left Marilyn’s name out before. “And what’d he say?”

“Not too much, just the one big thing.”

“He told you Marilyn has left me.” Why hadn’t he told Doug not to tell anyone about this yet?

“He was pretty upset about it,” Henry said. “And I was too, after I heard about it. You and Marilyn have been together for so long.”

“And we’re still together. She’s just . . . taking some time off.” If Doug was upset, why didn’t he talk to him?

“Taking some time off? That’s something you do with work, Jim, not a marriage.”

“Look, I don’t know what to tell you. I think this empty nest thing’s just starting to hit her. You know, with Michele’s wedding coming up.”

“Doesn’t Michele mostly live at school these days?”

“Yeah,” Jim said, “but after the wedding she’ll be gone for good. And Doug, well, she and Doug aren’t all that close now that he’s gotten older. He mostly hangs out with his friends, plays his music, or stays shut up in his room playing Xbox.”

“So that’s all you think this is, her struggling with an empty nest?”

“Yeah, I’m sure she’ll come running back here in a few days.”

Uncle Henry took a deep breath. Jim felt sure he was about to unload a mini-sermon. But to Jim’s surprise, he just stood there a few moments, didn’t say a word. Then tears welled up in his eyes. What in the world?

“I’ve really got to be going, Uncle Henry.”

“I know,” he said, blinking back the tears. “It’s just, I get a sense in my heart that what Marilyn’s going through is a lot
deeper than that. I think you ought to prepare yourself that this thing’s not going to end so quick.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I think you’re going to need some help on this thing, Jim. That’s all. You know God gives grace to the humble, the Bible says that a number of times. We Anderson men aren’t known for our humility.”

Humility? What’s humility got to do with this?
“We’re just having a few bumps, that’s all. Every marriage has them.”

Uncle Henry backed a few steps toward his car; Jim was glad to see it. “Well, you know I’m here to help if you ever want to talk this out with someone.”

“There’s nothing to talk out. But thanks anyway.”

“Okay then.” The tears welled up in his eyes again. “Me and Aunt Myra will be praying for you two.” He opened the door to his Chevy.

“Prayer never hurt anyone,” Jim said.

“But you know, if what I’m sensing is true,” Henry continued, then paused. “Well, you remember what I said about humility, Jim. It’s always the right first step. But it’s a hard lesson to learn, especially for a man. We don’t like to ask for help, or even admit we need it. But we all do, every day. I’ve been working on that myself, asking for help. Not just from God but from the people he sends my way. Humility isn’t complicated. It’s really just returning to the way God set things up in the beginning. He designed us to need him all the time, and each other.”

There he goes again, Jim thought, talking like some hippie guru. “Thanks, Uncle Henry, you have a nice afternoon.” Jim breathed a sigh of relief when his uncle got into his car and closed the door.

 11 

I
’m out here, Marilyn.”

Marilyn looked toward the voice; it came from the apartment balcony. One of the French doors was opened a crack. Charlotte was apparently enjoying the night air. Marilyn walked across the living room carpet and opened the door the rest of the way.

“There you are,” Charlotte said. “Come on out and join me.” She was sitting in a wicker chair, drinking a glass of iced tea with lime.

Marilyn noticed she was wearing pajamas. Outside. She was sitting outside in her pajamas.

Charlotte noticed her noticing. “You’re wondering about this?” She pointed to her outfit. “Nobody can see us out here. It’s too high up, and the railing blocks the view for the most part.” Marilyn looked at the other apartments on the same level. All the balconies were empty.

“No one ever comes out on their balconies,” Charlotte said. “It’s like they’re just for show. Go get comfortable, pour yourself
some tea, and c’mon. I ran out of lemons, but I had a lime in the fridge. Hope you like limes.”

Marilyn smiled. “I do.” She closed the door and headed to her bedroom. What a fun idea, something she’d never think of doing. As she changed, she was aware of how tired she was, and her legs felt sore from standing most of the day. But it was a good tired, and her aching legs didn’t bother her too much. She looked at a clock on her dresser. It was 9:45, Saturday night. Tomorrow morning she planned to go to church then be back at the store at two. She hoped the service didn’t start too early. After pouring her iced tea and adding a wedge of lime, she joined Charlotte on the balcony.

“Can you close that the rest of the way?” Charlotte said. “I just left the door open so you’d hear me when you got home. Might as well save a little on the electric bill, right?”

After closing the door, Marilyn sat in the other chair. There was really only room for two of them and a little round wicker table tucked in between. It felt strange being outside in her pajamas. Another first in her life.

“Isn’t this nice?”Charlotte said. “I love sitting out here at night. You wouldn’t think with all those people walking around in the street down there that it’d feel so private. But no one ever looks up here. They’re all looking in the store windows, chatting to each other. And there’s such a nice breeze up here.”

“The downtown area looks beautiful at night,” Marilyn said. “It always does, but from up here even more.” She imitated Charlotte and rested her feet on the lower part of the rail. Looking down through the rungs, she saw a young couple strolling by one of the storefront windows, holding hands. They were about Michele and Allan’s age and obviously in love; you could see it on their faces.

“Love is in the air,” Charlotte said, watching the same couple.

Marilyn nodded. “So Charlotte, how did you come to be here in River Oaks?”

“Same way a lot of folks from up north did, I guess. I came down on vacation several years in a row with friends. You know, mostly going to Disney and the other theme parks. Then we’d spend a few days lounging around on the beach. After a while, I started thinking I should move here. Usually after a lousy winter. When Eddie started college, I asked him what he thought about moving down here when he graduated. He said he’d love it, so I figured, I’ll come down first and get set up, you know? Why should I stay up there through four more winters? It’s not like I was seeing him anymore once school started.”

Marilyn sipped her tea. “But how did you end up in River Oaks? There’s lots of places in Florida you could have moved to. Especially being an RN.”

“It just worked out,” she said. “The timing, I mean. I was down here on another vacation. My lease was up on my apartment, so I got the newspaper, started reading the want ads. They had just opened the Urgent Care center, so I called, and they said come over for an interview. I came an hour early so I could check out the area.” A big smile came over her face. “Well, you know what happened then. One slow drive around this place and I was hooked. I called Eddie all excited, telling him I’d never seen a cuter town in all my life. It was like living in Disney World.”

Marilyn thought about her first tour of River Oaks. It had been enchanting, almost unreal. She thought the people living here had to be the luckiest and happiest people on earth. Every home was gorgeous. Every property perfectly kept. So many
parks and fountains and shady trees. The downtown area looked like a movie set from the fifties, except in vibrant color.

“After my interview,” Charlotte continued, “and I knew I got the job, I spent the rest of the afternoon touring the model homes. It was just for fun, of course. Not like I could ever afford to live in one of those places. But I was all dressed nice for the interview, figured the realtor didn’t know that. So I walked around, asked questions, pretended I had money and might be interested.” She shook her head. “Some of the most beautiful homes I’d ever seen. Can’t imagine what it would be like to live in any one of them. Unless maybe I had died and gone to heaven. Hey, I’m sorry, hon. What’s the matter? Did I put my foot in my mouth?”

Marilyn didn’t realize her expression had soured, hearing Charlotte go on about all the beautiful houses in River Oaks. She’d lived in one of the nicest homes in town. Hadn’t Charlotte known that? She felt sure she’d told her. “It’s nothing, Charlotte. You’re right. The homes here are lovely.”

“Oh my, that’s right. You lived in one, didn’t you? I’m sorry. Listen to me going on like that. It’s just . . . you’re out here on this little balcony with me . . . in your pajamas . . .”

“Don’t quite look the part? Don’t worry about it. But you know, having a house like that, even in a town like this . . . doesn’t guarantee you’ll be happy. I know a lot of miserable couples who live in big homes all around here. We used to invite some of them over for my husband’s business parties.” A few names came to mind, some of the nastiest people she’d ever spent an evening with. “I’m having much more fun sitting out on this little balcony with you.”

“Really?” Charlotte said. “That’s nice of you to say. ’Course, I think we could be having just as much fun sitting on one of those big wraparound front porches instead.”

Marilyn looked around at all the empty balconies in sight. She wasn’t so sure. “You know something, Charlotte? I can’t recall the last time I even sat out on our front porch. And you know something else? I can’t recall ever seeing any of my neighbors sitting on their big wraparound porches, either. Not even once.” She thought about it a little more. “I can’t remember ever seeing anyone else on their porches when I’ve driven around the different neighborhoods.”

“Really?” Charlotte said.

“Really.”

“What a waste.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Why do you think that is?” Charlotte asked.

“I don’t know. Why doesn’t anyone ever sit out on their balconies?”

“Good question.” She sat up, looked around. “I never see anyone out here.”

It was the oddest thing. It had never dawned on Marilyn before. That big wraparound porch was one of the things she’d liked best about the house on Elderberry Lane, and all the other houses in her neighborhood. It gave her a really nice feeling. Like it was the kind of neighborhood from ages past, when people really did spend time together on front porches, talking, laughing, drinking iced tea.

But now she realized it was just for show.

The house, the neighborhood . . . this entire town. All just an illusion of happiness. She’d had it all, the best the American dream had to offer. And here she was, sitting out on this tiny balcony, in her pajamas, drinking iced tea with Charlotte.

She hadn’t been this happy in years.