Marriage Seasons 01 - It Happens Every Spring (32 page)

"Well, anyway," Esther said, filling in the emptiness in the room
when Brenda didn't respond to her question.

They sat for a moment, awkwardly silent. Brenda wished the
woman would leave her alone. She didn't need Esther's chatter and
prying questions. Steve was probably never coming home again,
and soon she would have to tell the children about the divorce, and
then the black box around her would fold in on itself like an accordion.

"You know, I've been thinking about the flower beds at Patsy
Pringle's house," Esther spoke up again brightly. "The other day I
was having my usual set and style at Just As I Am, and Patsy told me
that last fall she had planted two hundred tulip bulbs. And do you
know what happened?"

Brenda managed to focus on Esther and shake her head.

"The deer ate every single bulb! Can you imagine that? Well, of
course, now her flower beds are nearly empty except for a few
perennials. She's got weeds, poor thing. Brenda, I propose that the
TLC ought to help Patsy by cleaning up her garden and planting a
few nice annuals. Maybe some marigolds. I hear the deer won't
touch those."

Again Brenda made an attempt to focus on her neighbor and to
speak. But nothing she could think of was worth saying.

"As a matter of fact," Esther went on, "I'd like for you to come
with me to have a look at Patsy's yard and figure out what we can
do. I've got the golf cart parked in your driveway, and I'm sure it won't take but a minute. You've always had the prettiest gardens in
Deepwater Cove. Oh, come on, honey. Please say yes!"

Before Brenda could beg off, the older woman was practically
pulling her out of the rocker toward the front door. Moving awkwardly, Brenda felt dazed, almost shocked, that her legs still
worked and her feet could find their way across the porch. As the
women walked toward the golf cart, they passed Cody dozing on
the porch swing. He waved at them and put his head down again.
As if from some strange distance, Brenda watched herself slide
onto the cart's red vinyl seat.

"Whee!" Esther said as she put the two-passenger vehicle in
gear. "I have to tell you that when I can get this golf cart away from
Charlie, I really let 'er go! You know how he always piddles along,
checking out everyone's yards and studying the houses to see
who's home. And, of course, he takes Boofer along with him most
of the time, so that means he barely goes two miles an hour. He's
deathly afraid the old dog is going to tumble out of the cart and get
hurt, so I say, `Leave Boofer here at home, why don't you?' But
Charlie loves that mutt, and you know how hard it can be to make
a man listen."

Brenda closed her eyes and leaned back on the seat, realizing
how much she had missed the kiss of fresh air and sunshine on her
skin. She couldn't imagine life without Steve, and yet-despite the
collapsing black box around her-it had to go on. Beside her,
Esther smelled of soft lavender lotion and clean laundry. The golf
cart bumped along the road, and the movement sent a tremble of
life up Brenda's spine. She was alive, she realized numbly. Able to
feel and smell. Able to walk and talk and do things. As bad as everything seemed, she still had the earth and the sky. Her heart still
pumped and her lungs took in air.

"Men don't listen, and they never look at what's right in front of
their noses," Esther was saying. "It's a wonder to me how they
make it through the day. I am forever searching for things Charlie
has lost. And complain! I'm telling you that man gripes about every ache and pain in his skinny old body. After he retired, I
thought he would drive me crazy as a June bug."

Looking around now, Brenda saw that even though her life felt
radically different, nothing had changed in Deepwater Cove. Children and dogs played down by the lakeshore. Men mowed lawns.
Women washed windows. Cars and golf carts passed each other on
the narrow roads. Robins bounced along the ground in search of
worms. Squirrels scampered up and down tree trunks.

"Of course, it didn't take me long to figure out how to make
Charlie happy and easier to get along with." Esther drove the golf
cart into Patsy Pringle's driveway and switched off the engine. "All
he needs is a little cuddle now and then. A pat on the arm. A
good-morning hug. A kiss on the cheek. Men just melt in your
hands for that kind of thing."

As Esther stepped out of the cart, Brenda sat still for a moment,
absorbing the simple remedy for marital happiness that her friend
had proposed.

Hugs and cuddles.

Was that what Steve had been wanting? She could recall his
accusations: you never touch me anymore; we never sleep together;
you always pull away from me. Her anger and hurt had caused her
to shut herself off from him. Of course she hadn't been kissing or
hugging him. He had abandoned her, and it was so painful that she
couldn't bear his proximity in their bed. But maybe she had taken
away the very thing he most needed and wanted from her. The
thing that would draw him close and make his heart grow softer
toward her.

Brenda left the cart and walked along beside Esther toward the
weedy garden patch in Patsy's front yard. Would Steve even come
back? she wondered. Would they divorce? Would he vanish from
her life forever?

"Impatiens!" Esther announced. "Would you look at that?
They've self-seeded from last year's batch. A whole crop of little ones. All they need is some tender loving care from the TLC, and
Patsy will have herself a pretty bed of flowers."

"A cuddle now and then?" Brenda asked as Esther yanked out a
dandelion about to go to seed. "Is that really all it takes to make
Charlie happy?"

"Not much more, honey. Oh, you've got to feed and water
them-husbands, I mean. But really they're not too different from
a flower bed. Most of them aren't pondering deep matters. It's
football or golf or fishing. A building project or a house to sell.
That's what occupies the biggest part of a man's brain, honey. That
and ... well ... you know. Women."

Brenda had to smile. The thought that knobby-kneed Charlie
Moore kept a keen eye out for a pretty woman amused her. But she
knew Esther was right.

"If you want a full, beautiful flower bed in the summertime,"
Esther said, "you need to treat it right. That means you've got to get
your hands in there and make it feel good. Husbands are no different. If you want a summertime marriage-even when you're as
crotchety as Charlie and me-you need to do what it takes. And a
man needs his hugs, kisses, pats, and, of course, the rest of it."

A summertime marriage, Brenda thought as she knelt next to
Esther and cupped her fingers around the fragile green leaves of a
baby impatiens. She and Steve had enjoyed that once. Could they
ever get it back?

Steve sat on the end of Deepwater Cove's community dock and
worked a minnow onto Cody's fishhook. For the past week, he had
stayed away from home, unwilling and unable even to look at his
wife. After calling his office to let them know he would be away for
a few days, Steve had driven to Arkansas and checked into a cheap
motel. He'd spent his days fishing and his nights trying, unsuccessfully, to sleep.

He hated Brenda. That much he knew. She disgusted and
revolted him. Every time he thought of her in Nick LeClair's arms,
he wanted to vomit. Sometimes he did. Never in his whole realm of
thought had the idea crossed his mind that Brenda could be
unfaithful. It was impossible. They had loved each other so long
and so well. They shared their three children. Their home. Years
and years of memories. Even a cat.

He could never forgive her for smashing that perfect picture he
had cherished in his mind all these years. She had ruined their marriage. Destroyed everything they had worked so hard to build.

He wanted to kill the handyman. If he could, he would wring the
jerk's scrawny neck. Nick LeClair had come into Steve's home and
seduced Brenda! He ought to buy a gun and blow the guy's brains
out. Holding her and touching her arm-when she wouldn't even
let her own husband near! He'd like to tie them together with a
couple of cement blocks and drown them both.

"I think we could eat these fish," Cody observed, breaking into
Steve's reliving of the past few days. He pointed to the bucket of
minnows. "They're small, but my daddy and me learned how to eat
bugs and crawdads and mice and all kinds of little things. If you're
hungry, you don't mind."

Steve let out his breath. Just thinking about how angry he had
been made him furious all over again. His trip had cost him several
potentially lucrative house showings, and no doubt his whole
office was curious about why he had suddenly vanished. On
returning to the area this afternoon, he had decided not to stop by
the agency. He hadn't shaved or slept well, and he didn't feel up to
seeing anyone.

"People don't eat minnows," he explained to Cody. "Big fish eat
these little fish. Then people eat the big fish."

"Okay."

"That's just the way it is."

"Okay."

"I mean, you could eat minnows if you wanted to, but you
wouldn't get full. See?"

"Uh-huh. But if you're hungry, you could eat 'em, and your
tummy might feel better."

Steve gazed out across the lake, remembering again. After those
days of fishing, watching TV, and eating Snickers bars and
peanut-butter crackers, he had finally decided it was time to deal
with reality. He would drive back to Deepwater Cove, walk in the
front door of their house, and tell Brenda their marriage was over.

Then he would ask her if she wanted to file for the divorce, or if
he should do it. He would give her the house and her car, and they
would divide things evenly. Plenty of small homes had come on the
market recently, and he could buy one and move in. The kids could
visit him and their mother when they had time. Steve would continue working at the agency, and maybe one day he might find
another woman to love. At this point, he didn't even want to think
about that. If he couldn't trust Brenda Hansen, whom could he
trust?

When Steve got home, he had found Cody sitting on the frontporch swing. Brenda was at Just As I Am getting her hair cut, Cody
said. So Steve took the boy to a nearby gas station and bought a
couple dozen minnows. Then they drove back to Deepwater Cove,
grabbed two poles, and walked down to the dock. So far, they
hadn't had a nibble.

"Did you buy any hot dogs while you were gone?" Cody asked.
"I told Brenda I thought that's where you were, but she didn't
believe me."

"I went to a motel and rested for a few days." He watched his
bobber for a moment. "How is Brenda?"

"She cries and yells a lot, but she still makes me sandwiches. Yesterday she baked a chocolate cake. It was good. I told her she was a
Christian for baking me that cake, but she just yelled and cried
some more and made me sit on the swing. I like fishing with you,
Steve. I'm glad you came back."

"Has anyone else been to the house?" he asked warily.

"Lots of people. The lady and man on the golf cart drive by a
bunch of times every day. They wave at me and say, `Hi, Cody!' so I
wave back at them. The hair-shaving lady came over to check on
my head. She said all the mice are gone, and so is everything else
that was hiding in my hair and beard. She and Brenda drank tea on
the back porch, but they didn't invite me. They have a club-the
Tea Ladies' Club-and you can't be in it if you're not a lady. I don't
think that's sharing. All the ladies of the club visited. I swept and
mopped the floors in your house, because I'm good at that. When I
lived with my daddy, I always kept everything span. Brenda said I
could wash the windows again if I wanted to, so I've washed them
lots of times."

Steve tried to picture all this activity going on at the house in
Deepwater Cove. He wondered what Brenda had told her friends
about him. Had she confessed? Had she blamed him for abandoning her and made it look like their problems were all his fault? He
frowned.

"Anyone else drop by?" he asked Cody, getting around to his
real concern. "How about that handyman, Nick LeClair?"

"He doesn't share his hot dogs-"

"I know, but have you seen him? Has he been to the house?"

Cody gulped. "No. I don't like him."

"I don't like him either."

"He said, `Who do you think you are, fella?' in a mean way, like
he wanted to fight me. I don't like to fight, because I always get
hurt."

Steve's breath hung shallow in his chest. "What was he doing?
That day when you came to the house ... what did you see?"

"He was hugging Brenda, but she pushed him away and said,
`No!' Just like that. I don't think she wanted him to hug her."

"Yes, she did," Steve blurted out before he could stop himself.
"Never mind. Forget I said that."

"I forget lots of things, all except my Bible verses. My daddy and me used to say them over and over so we wouldn't forget. Shall I
say a verse since the big fish aren't eating the little fish?"