Authors: More Than Memory
Dorothy Garlock (41 page)
“Norris tells me that you love the father of your baby, that you were married at one time.”
“It almost set a record for the shortest marriage in history. I’ve loved him since I was fifteen and he was seventeen. But people sometimes change after
they grow up. It was tough on Lute when my father sent him away. But it was tough on me, too. I’ve got to let go. I can’t keep trying to hold on to the past.”
they grow up. It was tough on Lute when my father sent him away. But it was tough on me, too. I’ve got to let go. I can’t keep trying to hold on to the past.”
• • •
It was the end of March. Nelda was alone much of the time now that Marlene occasionally went out of town with Norris. Dr. Wilkins assured her that her pregnancy was progressing normally. She forced herself to eat three small, well-balanced meals every day, and every afternoon she found new routes to walk the approximately two miles with Kelly.
The rest of her day was spent working on designs for her block prints. She set up a small table beside the living-room windows, and she sat for hours with a razor knife, cutting the film stencils to adhere to the silk screen she would use to make her prints. Even at that, time hung heavy, and certain days seemed a week long.
She had been in the apartment two months when she received the letter from Lute. Norris and Marlene had come over and before Norris took off his coat, he took an envelope from his pocket.
“Lute came out to my house,” he said quietly. “He was quite civil and asked me to mail this to you after I refused to tell him where you were.”
Suddenly heavy with apprehension, Nelda’s heart plummeted as she reached with shaking fingers for the long white envelope. She was scarcely aware of saying,
“Will you excuse me for a minute?”
In the bedroom she looked at the envelope for a long while before she found the courage to open it.
This was the first piece of correspondence she’d received from him since he’d sent back the divorce papers eight years ago. With her bottom lip caught between her teeth to stop its trembling, she slipped a finger beneath the sealed flap and took out the single sheet of white paper.
This was the first piece of correspondence she’d received from him since he’d sent back the divorce papers eight years ago. With her bottom lip caught between her teeth to stop its trembling, she slipped a finger beneath the sealed flap and took out the single sheet of white paper.
The text of the letter jumped at her in a bold script. It was brief, formal, and agonizing.
Dear Nelda,
Hutchinson tells me that you’ve put the farm up for sale. As your land adjoins mine and I’m interested in acquiring more acreage, I’ve made him an offer to be relayed to you. I am not, however, interested in the house, only the land it sits on. If I acquire the property, I will probably demolish the house and till the ground. I’m aware that the house has sentimental value for you, but I can’t afford sentimentality. It doesn’t put dollars in the bank. I’m sure you can understand my position.
Lute
P.S. You and Smithfield should hitch well together.
Nelda sat for a long moment looking at the letter. She didn’t cry—she was beyond tears—but she shivered uncontrollably. What was wrong with her that she still loved this cold, hard, unfeeling man? She wanted the tender, affectionate Lute of long ago and the warm love they had shared when they were young.
She didn’t want to love this Lute . . . yet she was
realistic enough to realize that she had contributed to what her gentle boy-husband had become. Did the Lute she had loved still exist beneath this older, hostile Lute?
realistic enough to realize that she had contributed to what her gentle boy-husband had become. Did the Lute she had loved still exist beneath this older, hostile Lute?
A couple of weeks went by. It was planting time. She could visualize Lute in the fields on his big tractor. She read, worked, walked with Kelly, and visited with Marlene, who was home less and less. Nelda grew tense and strained and was consumed with guilt over selling the farm. The thought of her Grandma’s beloved house being torn down, the lumber being loaded into trucks and hauled away, was a constant ache in her heart. It would have been less painful, she thought, if a tornado had blown the house away.
At times she felt as if she were being pulled in a dozen different directions.
One day, on an impulse, she called Mr. Hutchinson and asked him if the deal to sell the farm to Lute was in the works.
“Not yet. I have Lute’s offer, but I also have an offer from someone else other than your father. I was preparing a letter to give to Smithfield—”
“I don’t want to consider another offer, Mr. Hutchinson. Sell to Lute for whatever he offers.”
“If that’s what you want. Where can I reach you? I’ll call as soon as the papers are ready for you to sign.”
Nelda gave him the number. “When you’re ready, I’ll meet you somewhere between here and Clear Lake. I want this over with as soon as possible.”
She knew Mr. Hutchinson was puzzled by her unusual behavior, but she was past caring what
anyone thought. Her only worry was the fear that she wouldn’t be able to hide her pregnancy from him when she met him.
anyone thought. Her only worry was the fear that she wouldn’t be able to hide her pregnancy from him when she met him.
After that phone call there was nothing to do but wait. Wait for Mr. Hutchinson to call, wait for Norris and Marlene to come over, wait for appointments with Dr. Wilkins.
• • •
The weather was mostly good now. Spring had come to Minnesota. Nelda and Kelly had taken a long walk and returned to the apartment tired and hungry. She fed Kelly, then made herself a tuna salad and took it to the couch in the living room. When the telephone rang, she moved listlessly to answer it, hoping it was Norris and that he would volunteer some news about Rhetta and Gary and Lute because she would never ask.
“Hello?”
A few seconds of silence preceded the announcement,
“This is Lute.”
Nelda felt her blood go cold. Her hand gripped the phone. She was too stunned to speak, and, in one moment, she experienced a great surge of both love and fright.
“How . . . did you get this number?” she whispered haltingly.
“It wasn’t easy. Smithfield refused to tell me where you were. I was in Hutchinson’s office when he pulled out a pile of papers from your file, and your number was written on the top. I jotted it down.” Her heart throbbed painfully while she listened to
the familiar voice. “I just want to talk to you for a minute. How are you doing?”
the familiar voice. “I just want to talk to you for a minute. How are you doing?”
“Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” Her heart continued to thump painfully.
“I just want to talk to you,” he repeated, “and make sure you’re all right.”
“I’m okay. Are you planting now?” she mumbled, trying to make conversation.
“We have some of the corn in. Some of the ground is too wet yet to plant. You’re in the Twin Cities. I could tell by the area code,” he said, switching the subject. “Are you working on the big decorating job you told me about?”
“I’m doing some of the preliminary work. I’ll start the actual work . . . soon.” Nelda dropped down in a chair, her legs suddenly weak.
After a silence on the other end of the line, he asked, “Are you going back to Chicago?”
“Yes.”
“When are you going?” There seemed to be a note of pain in his voice, but Nelda was swallowing the sobs in her throat and couldn’t be certain whether or not her own hopes were misleading her.
“I’m not sure.”
“Did you get my letter?”
For a minute she couldn’t speak, and when she did, her voice was pathetically weak.
“About . . . Grandma’s house?”
“About my buying the farm. I’ve signed the papers and given Hutchinson a down payment. We’re waiting for the loan to go through.”
“Then . . . it’s settled. I want to get Grandma’s
furniture out before you tear down the house.” She said the words with difficulty.
furniture out before you tear down the house.” She said the words with difficulty.
“I’m not going to tear it down, honey. I’m sorry I ever said that. I was hurt and wanted to hurt you. I know you love that old place.” There was sincerity in his voice, as if he desperately wanted her to believe him.
She struggled to think of something to say.
“Did you hear me? I won’t tear it down.”
“I heard you,” she whispered.
“I was at Rhetta and Gary’s last night. They asked if I had heard from you.” When she said nothing he went on. “Gary has gotten the bug to raise American quarter horses and wants me to go partners with him on a registered stallion.”
“Are you going to?” It seemed unreal to be having this conversation with him.
“I’m thinking about it. It would mean going to horse shows and fairs. I’m not sure I have the time for it.”
“I saw a horse show in Madison Square Garden once. The animals were beautiful, but I didn’t know the difference between an Arabian and a Tennessee Walker without looking at the program.”
“Do you like horses?”
She hesitated. “Yes, though they’re awfully big. Dogs are more my size.”
“How does Kelly like living in the city?”
“He likes the country better, but I take him for a walk every day.”
“You could have left him with me.” There was a long pause while he waited for her to respond.
Nelda was holding the phone in one hand, the other hand on her protruding abdomen where her baby was kicking. Thump, thump, thump.
“I want to call you again, Nelda.” His voice came into her ear.
“No! Don’t call. It’s best that we make a clean break. It was nice of you to call and ask about me. I’m glad it was you who bought Grandpa’s farm. ’Bye, Lute.” She got up from the chair, holding the phone away from her ear as she went to lay it back in the cradle.
“Nelda—” His voice reached her before the connection was broken.
She went to the bathroom, closed the door, and turned the water on in the bathtub. If Lute called back, she didn’t want to hear the phone ring.
That night she lay awake for hours, staring into the darkness, her thoughts in a riot of confusion. Why had he called? Did he want her because now he couldn’t have her? Did he feel obligated to see to her welfare because of his fondness for her grandparents and the love they had shared when they were young?
It certainly wasn’t for any love he had for her now. He’d made that perfectly clear months ago. He had probably called because he was grateful she had sold him the farm.
C
hapter
T
wenty-five
hapter
T
wenty-five
N
ORRIS WAS SPENDING MORE AND MORE TIME IN
Minneapolis with Marlene. It was a joy to be with them. Nothing had been said to Nelda about their getting married, but she was sure that it would happen soon.
ORRIS WAS SPENDING MORE AND MORE TIME IN
Minneapolis with Marlene. It was a joy to be with them. Nothing had been said to Nelda about their getting married, but she was sure that it would happen soon.
On Saturday night, Norris took Nelda and Marlene out to dinner. None of Nelda’s regular clothes fit anymore; tonight she wore her new maternity slacks and a loose black top with the emerald green scarf. She welcomed the outing. It was good to be among people in a normal setting. She had spent too much time alone.
Norris talked about the progress on his house on Clear Lake’s south shore now that it was spring and work had been resumed.
“Won’t you come down and see our new house and ride in our new boat?” Norris coaxed.
“I’d love to see it, but . . .”
“She’s not ready to go back.” Marlene chided Norris gently.
“I may never be, Marlene,” Nelda said sadly.
The meal was delicious and the service superb, the conversation light and amusing. Nelda didn’t mention Lute’s call. The sound of his voice had affected her so deeply she tried not to think about it.
“Thank you so much,” she said to Norris when he walked her to the door of her apartment building. She kissed him on the cheek. “Run on back to Marlene. You are so lucky to have each other.”
“I’m almost afraid to let her out of my sight for fear she’ll disappear,” he confessed. “’Night, honey. I’ll see you in about a week.”
It was ten o’clock when she let herself back into the apartment. She looked accusingly at the telephone as she had done during the past week, as if it should tell her whether or not it had rung.
“Come on, Kelly, we’ll go out for just a few minutes.” She fastened the leash to Kelly’s collar, and went out the back of the building into the lighted parking area.
After a few minutes they came back into the apartment and Nelda started preparing for bed. It had become a ritual to undress and look at herself in the long bedroom mirror before she put on her nightgown. She did this now, shook her head in disbelief, and rubbed her palms over her protruding abdomen.
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