Authors: More Than Memory

Dorothy Garlock (31 page)

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock

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“We’ll leave cookies for Santa. This is for us, but we’d better put it up on the library table or Kelly will help himself.” Nelda moved the plastic tree to a higher table. “When I was in Mason City, Santa sent a present for me to give you before Christmas because you’ve been a super nice boy.” She went to the closet and brought out a brown teddy bear dressed in a Santa Claus suit.

Eric’s eyes opened wide. He looked at the teddy bear and then at his mother.

“For . . . me?”

“Your name is Eric Branson, isn’t it?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then it’s for you.”

“Golly.” When Nelda knelt down, the child threw his arms around her neck. “Can I take him up to bed?”

“He’s yours.”

“Gee, thanks—”

“You’re very welcome.” Nelda had tears in her eyes as she watched Linda and Eric go up the stairs.

Nelda had just started washing the dishes when the phone rang. Kurt Branson again? She looked at the time; it was nine o’clock. She was tempted not to answer it, but after seven rings, she picked up the receiver.

“Nelda?” It was Lute’s voice. “Where in the hell were you?”

“It’s none of your business. What do you want?”

“Don’t get on your high horse. What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night? I’m not sure. I’ll have to speak with my social secretary.”

“I’m inviting you to come over to my place tomorrow night.”

“And spend the evening with Miss Home Ec? No, thanks.”

“She won’t be here.”

“You want me to fill in for her.”

“No, dammit. It’s Christmas Eve. I didn’t think you’d want to spend it alone.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you. But what makes you think I’ll be alone? You’re only a neighbor, Lute. I think you’re taking too much on yourself.”

“I’m more than a neighbor, and you know it.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said slowly, thoughtfully. “I did service you a couple of times.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. Nelda smiled, knowing that she had made him furious.

“Don’t ever say that again!” His voice was choked with anger.

“And . . . if I do?”

“You’ll be sorry—”

“—I’m not afraid of you, Lute. You can’t do any worse to me than what you’ve already done.”

Another prolonged silence before he spoke.

“I’d like to spend Christmas Eve with you.”

“I’m flattered, Lute, that I’ve aced out Miss Home Ec.”

“Why do you keep bringing her up?”

“Because she’s perfect for you. She knows about corn, cows, beans, hay. She could probably butcher a hog. I bet she knows which end of the hog the bacon comes from.”

Lute ignored her sarcasm. “If you don’t want to come over here, I’ll come there.”

“It wouldn’t do you any good. I’m not going to sleep with you. I’m having my period.”

“Damn you! There are times when I’d like to break your neck.” There was a high note of anger in his voice.

“Merry Christmas, Lute.”
You’ve already broken my heart
.

“Nelda—”

“Good-bye, Lute.” Nelda hung up the phone and stood for a minute staring down at her hands resting on the counter without seeing them. She had to burn all the bridges because once she left here, she couldn’t come back.

• • •

Nelda spent the next afternoon baking cookies. She cut a gingerbread man out of a piece of cardboard, placed it on the rolled-out dough, and cut around it. Before the cookie men were baked, she let Eric poke a hole in the head of each to run a string though so that they could be hung on the tree.

“He’s so happy,” Linda said later when Eric was in the other room. “The first night we were here he asked if his dad was coming. I told him no, and he’s not asked about him since.”

“I’ve read that children can sense tension. He sees that you’re more relaxed, so he can relax too.”

“As soon as Christmas is over, I’ve got to find out what my options are and make plans,” Linda said tiredly.

“I haven’t mentioned this before, but within the next few weeks, I’m going up to Minneapolis to do some work for a client.”

I hate lying to you, Linda
.

Linda was quiet for a minute. “Will you come back?”

“No, but you’re welcome to stay here. Consider it house-sitting until I decide what I’m going to do with the farm.”

“You’re not coming back, ever?”

“No. I have to be where I can get work. There are not many offices, restaurants, and nightclubs to decorate in Clear Lake and Mason City.”

“I’m thinking about leaving here, too. Even after I divorce Kurt, he’ll not let go. He’ll use the excuse of seeing Eric, even though he hasn’t paid much attention to him before. Kurt is his father, but he’s not a good influence on him. I never know what to expect from him.”

“Do you have an idea where you would go?”

“Somewhere where I can earn a living for Eric and me. Even if the court tells Kurt to pay child support, he won’t do it. He’d quit work just to spite me.”

Nelda lifted the pan from the oven.

“Eric,” she called. “The cookies are done.”

“Let me see. Can I tie the strings?”

“Sure you can. Humm . . . not too bad. Maybe
we should go into the bakery business. But then you’d eat all the profit,” Nelda teased.

Nelda was in the kitchen, Linda and Eric hanging the gingerbread men on the tree when she saw a flash of light coming down the lane toward the house. She immediately turned off the kitchen light so that she could go to the window and see who was coming.

“It’s Kurt,” Linda whispered, coming to stand beside her.

“Take Eric upstairs.”

“I can’t leave you down here alone.”

“I’ll not let him in. Now go. You won’t want Eric here when he pounds on the door.”

“He’s mean. He might hurt you.”

“He’ll not get in to hurt me. Now go.”

As soon as Linda left the room, Nelda made sure the door was locked, then went to the cabinet above the stove where Lute had put the gun. By the small light in the bathroom, she checked to see if it was loaded. Returning to the kitchen door, she heard the car door slam. Kelly heard it, too, and began to bark.

“Hush.” Nelda placed the palm of her hand against the dog’s nose.

The pounding on the door was loud and constant.

“Linda! I know you’re here. Linda! Open this door, or I’ll break it down.”

“He’s drunk,” Linda whispered. “I couldn’t leave you to face him alone. Eric is in a closet. He knows to stay there when Kurt is drunk. We’ve been through this before.”

“I’m not going to face him unless he breaks down the door. Then I’m going to shoot him.”

“Oh, no!”

“Linda! What the hell stunt you pullin’ now? Get yore ass out here ’n’ bring my boy.”

“Linda isn’t here. Get away from my door,” Nelda shouted.

“Ya bitch! Ya turned my wife against me! Linda! Open this door, or I’ll break it down.”

“I’m telling you to leave,” Nelda yelled. “I’ve got a gun, and I know how to use it. You try to come in here, and I’ll shoot you.”

There was silence, then they heard him leave the porch.

“He’s going around the house. Now he’s looking in the window. Don’t let him see you, Linda,” Nelda whispered. “He’s headed around to the front. I’ll turn on the front light so he can see that I have a gun.”

Nelda went to the front of the house and switched on the porch light. He was shaking the door leading to the glassed-in porch. Nelda stepped out onto the porch with the gun in her hand.

“I’ve called the sheriff and told him you’re trying to break in. I also told him that I’ve got a gun, and I’ll shoot if you don’t leave.” Nelda made sure he could hear what she said.

He looked at her through the glass door with pure hatred on his face.

“My wife and my boy are in there—”

“Leave, or I’ll file charges against you not only for the phone calls but also for trespassing.”

“This ain’t the last of it. I’ll get ya—” He moved away from the door and started back around the house.

Linda was crying quietly when Nelda reached the kitchen. Together, they watched the car go down the lane to the road.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry to put you through this.”

Nelda put her arm around her friend. “I’m glad you came to me. The day after tomorrow we’ll talk to Mr. Hutchinson. He’ll know what to do. In the meantime we’ve got to make this a merry Christmas for Eric.”

“Poor little fella. He’s worried his daddy will make us go back, and Santa Claus won’t be able to find him.”

“Go on up and reassure him. Tell him his daddy just wanted to say Merry Christmas.”

“I’ll tell him, but he won’t believe it.”

C
hapter
N
ineteen

A
T THE END OF THE DAY
, N
ELDA CONSIDERED IT
the best Christmas she’d had in a long, long time. Eric awakened early, and Linda had called out to Nelda before she let Eric go downstairs. The two women stood back while he excitedly examined what Santa had left.

After breakfast they opened the wrapped gifts. Eric was fascinated with the miniature train set. Linda smiled at Nelda.

“Thank you, thank you,” she mouthed, then said aloud, “A friend of his has one. He loves to play with it.”

Nelda spent most of the morning with Eric, helping him to put the tracks together.

Just before dinner, Lute drove into the yard. Kelly was out on his rope. The dog was delighted to see him. After tending his horses, Lute played with the dog for a few minutes then, to Nelda’s relief, got back in his truck and left.

Christmas night Nelda lay in bed and thought about the day. It had gone quickly and she was glad
of that. She thanked God for bringing Linda and Eric to her. She didn’t know how she could have endured the holiday season without them.

There was more diversion to come . . . and from an unexpected source.

• • •

The day after Christmas was a lazy one, spent eating the leftovers from the Christmas dinner, playing Candy Land with Eric, and washing a couple of loads of clothes.

It was evening when a police car came into the yard and stopped beside the back door. As soon as Chief Larsen reached the porch, Nelda opened the door.

“Mrs. Hanson? I’m Chief Larsen. I understand that Mrs. Branson is here.”

“Yes. She’s giving her son a bath.”

“I need to speak to her, and what I have to say isn’t for the boy to hear.”

“Won’t you come in?”

The chief took off his overshoes before he came into the kitchen.

Nelda went into the bathroom and delivered the message. When Linda came out, her eyes were wide with fear.

“What’s happened?”

“There’s no easy way to say this, Linda. It’s Kurt. His car went through the ice late last night. We just got him out.”

“He’s dead?” she whispered the question.

The chief nodded. “He couldn’t have lived in
that icy water even if he’d been able to get out of the car.”

“Oh, my . . . Lord—”

“There’s more, Linda. He had a woman with him. She’s dead, too.”