Miracle on I-40 (3 page)

They gazed at each other.

Again she slipped down slipped down into the seat opposite him. “I know it’s an imposition, and I really hate to bother you, only…”

“Look,” he said, holding his knife like a pointer, “I told Pate I’d take you. The deal is still on, just like before, and I’ll probably get you there a bit faster than Pate would have. I don’t make a lot of stops. It’s not like it was with Pate—I ain’t Pate—but it is a ride. Now, do you want to go?”

Lacey stared at those buckeye brown eyes.

“I’d be very grateful for the ride,” she said.

He nodded. “Okay.” And he looked down at his chili and scooped a spoonful into his mouth, hot chili and hot pepper.

Lacey sat there, gazing at him.

After several long seconds, he looked up at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Pate was going to pick me up at home at six o’clock tomorrow morning.”
Why did this man have to be so purposely disagreeable?

“You be here at the restaurant at five, and we’ll head out.” He returned his attention to his chili.

Lacey opened her mouth, then closed it. “Fine,” she said at last.

Rising, she walked straight-backed across the room and through the swinging doors.
Oh, Lord, why did you let Pate break his leg?

The Heart’s Desire

At the exact moment that Lacey prayed for Paloma to arrive, the young woman came bouncing through the door, her arms laden with shopping bags, and singing
Feliz Navidad.

Lacey said, “Merry Christmas to you, too, my tables are all yours,” and whipped off her apron and unpinned her name tag.

Growing a little frantic, with all she had to do racing through her mind like a pack of dogs chased by the dog catcher, she got her purse, threw on her coat.

“Feliz Navidad!” Paloma called to her.

“Honey, make it a good one,” said Jolene. “I love your face...here.” Jolene passed her a small black satin cosmetic bag. The name of Estée Lauder was printed on the side.

“We agreed—no buyin’ gifts.” Lacey pushed the bag back at the woman.

“I did not buy it. It came as my free gift for buyin’ the miracle wrinkle cream. Honest. Take it and enjoy.”

Jolene gave a her a hug and a kiss. Gerald appeared with a pecan pie covered in plastic. The two of them waved her away at the back door, their wishes for a good trip and Merry Christmas echoing into the crisp dark night. Lacey hurried out past the dumpster and a beat-up Rambler with someone sleeping in it, and over to her old white sedan, which looked even more rundown in the silvery glow of the parking lot lights.

She got in, set the pecan pie carefully in the passenger seat and pulled her coat collar up around her neck because the driver window was stuck down, which was why Anna had caught cold in the first place. At the turning of the key, the engine protested with a lot of whines and grinds, snorts, and pops, while Lacey whispered, “It will start…it will start…it
will
start.” It did, and Lacey revved it several times, then backed out of her space and headed in a chugging fashion past the restaurant.

In the way of Universe arrangements, at the particular moment of Lacey’s passing, Cooper was coming out from the restaurant and heading for his rig, where he intended to spend the night. He saw the car jerking along with clouds of smoke puffing out the back of it. Next, with some surprise, he saw the gal—Lacey Bryant—at the wheel.

He watched the pitiful car continue on to the entrance, where it paused before pulling out onto the narrow blacktop highway headed for town. It let out a loud backfire, then picked up speed and roared away.

Cooper, hands stuffed into his coat pockets, strode slowly on to his truck, wondering about her, and wondering about himself, and maybe, reluctantly, a little pleased he would have the gal’s company for the drive east.

As soon as he realized the sense of pleasure, though, he stopped it.

* * * *

The shopping mall was packed, people scrambling for bargains in the last days. There was only one Tough-Stuff radio-controlled car left at the hobby shop. Lacey spotted it and at the same instant saw another woman heading directly toward it.

With a burst of speed, Lacey sprinted and reached the car first, snatched up the box from the shelf and held it close. The woman glared at her, and Lacey’s cheeks burned from shame.

“My son…he really wants this one, you see. He hasn’t asked for another thing…and…I just have to have this one.”

 The woman’s expression turned wary. She stepped back, clutched her purse to her bosom and edged away.

Lacey looked down at the box she held and then at the woman.
Oh, Father, find that woman another car
.

Then she turned resolutely to the checkout counter, and her embarrassment eased into joy as she handed her hard-earned money to the cashier. “My son’s goin’ to be so excited about this,” she told the girl, who smiled brightly but being only a young teen could not possibly understand what it meant to a mother to want to please her first born son.

Walking out of the mall, Lacey looked into the shopping bag several times, reassuring herself that she did indeed have the car. She held the pleasure to her, which in part made up for the fact she could not give Anna her longed-for Christmas puppy. But when they got back home after the trip, she promised herself, she would see about a puppy, even though it made not one bit of sense to take on another mouth to feed and one more to clean up afterward at the end of a long day.

From the shopping mall she drove to Walmart, where she locked Jon’s car in the truck and raced into the store, tossing a couple of bills into the Salvation Army kettle without pausing and pushing a buggy down the aisles and around other shoppers like a marathon runner.

When she got back to her car, she threw her packages in the back seat with an audible “Whew!”  Her feet and back ached, her hands were stiff and dry, and at home were two children to wash and stuff with a snack, before finishing up the packing. She never had been able to pack until the last minute.

It began to rain, and the Delta’s windshield wipers squeaked back and forth.

“The traffic lights blinked a bright red and green...” came the holiday song over the radio.

She reached over and touched the bags in the seat beside her, beginning to worry about having overspent. But Anna had really needed socks, and that fancy hair clip hadn’t cost
that
much. And Jon’s present shoes were disreputable.

But she really hadn’t needed to buy that belt buckle for Cooper. It’d been a silly, extravagant thing to do. Twenty dollars, on sale. It was the sale tag that had gotten her. For twenty dollars she could buy supper on the trip for her and the kids.

It’s Christmas, came the whisper. I will have enough money…I will have enough money…I will have enough…

As she pulled into the driveway of her duplex apartment, the door opened from the adjoining apartment where the children stayed during the school break with their neighbor, Susan Price, who had her own baby on her hip and a toddler clinging to her leg. Ten-year-old Jon and five-year-old Anna came running to meet her, Anna throwing herself on Lacey, and John slipping his arm around her.

“They had hamburgers for supper,” Susan told her. “This one had two,” she said, her hand affectionately placed atop of Jon’s head.

“Growin’ boys have to eat,” said Jon righteously.

“I’ll be needin’ to pay you for three mouths, instead of two,” Lacey said, passing Susan the envelope she had prepared. “Thanks for takin’ care of them for me.”

“Jon’s really a help to me, you know. And I had plenty extra. Marty’s workin’ late, again...you want to come have a hamburger?”

Her friend looked tired and lonely, but Lacey declined. “I’ve still got packin’ to do.”

Everyone called, “Merry Christmas,” back and forth, and at last Lacey got herself and her brood into their apartment and closed the door. She felt an immediate relief, as if shutting out the world.

Then Jon and Anna were tugging on her, pretending to try to peek into the bags.

“You’ll spoil your  Christmas,” Lacey cautioned.

“Not me. I won’t see my puppy until Christmas mornin’ after Santa brings it,” Anna said flatly.

Jon switched on a lamp and threw himself on the couch, saying,  “I’ve told her and told her that Santa won’t bring her a puppy this year because of the trip.”

“He might.” Anna jutted her little chin.

“Pate won’t want a noisy, messy puppy ridin’ all the way back here in his truck from North Carolina.” Jon sent Lacey a look; he was doing his best to help.

“He won’t care,” Anna said, her voice cracking.

“Let’s just let the speculation drop and deal with what happens when,” Lacey said, as she sat to remove her shoes and massage her feet.  “You two need to get your baths and get to bed. Come on...”

She set Jon to packing his things, while she got Anna bathed. After Jon had gotten his bath, too, she had hot chocolate and decorated sugar cookies waiting for them. As they all sat around the faded green Formica table, she explained about the change in transportation plans.

Anna played her cookie around in her cup of chocolate, but Lacey felt Jon’s careful attention.

“So...is Cooper his first or last name?” Jon asked. “Do we call him Cooper like we call Pate, Pate, or are we supposed to say Mr.?”

“Just say Mr. Cooper,” Lacey told him.

* * * *

“Jon…music off.” She switched off his boom-box, kissed his head and turned out the lamp beside his bed.

“Mama, what will we do with the puppy Santa brings,” Anna asked as she crawled into bed in the next bedroom. “Will Mis-ter Cooper let us bring him home in his truck?”

“Blow,” Lacey instructed, holding a tissue to Anna’s tiny nose. Anna puffed up and blew hard, took the tissue in her own tiny fingers and wiped her nose, then handed the tissue to Lacey and looked expectant, waiting for an answer.

Lacey stroked the fine brown hair from her daughter’s forehead. “Anna, I told you that your puppy will have to come later, even if we were ridin’ with Pate. A puppy is a delicate thing for Santa Claus to haul around, especially from the cold North Pole. Why, I can’t think of anyone who ever got a puppy for Christmas.”

“Tammy Henderson did. She said so today.” Anna’s big brown eyes dominated her face.

“Well, we see,” Lacey said, regretting the words as soon as she said them because she’d always hated to hear that as a child. “Now, you have to get to sleep, sugar. I’m goin’ to have to get you up very early.”

She tucked her daughter down in the bed and whispered I love you in her ear just as she had every day since Anna had been born. She pulled the bedroom door to, leaving a crack for comfort, probably more for herself than for Anna. She stood there a moment, squeezing her eyes closed against tears. So often she felt inadequate in her role of mother.

Blinking hard, she pushed herself down the short hall and into the kitchen, where she poured a cup of coffee, carried the phone to the table and called Information for the number of the Santa Fe hospital. Her heart jumped when she heard Pate’s voice, sounding perfectly normal, boom across the line. He had such a big voice.

“Well, hi ya’, Suzie-Q.”  He often called her or any other female Suzie-Q. He was obviously surprised and touched to hear from her and kept repeating that he was fine. His son, Bob, was coming with his entire family, and they were due in the following morning. His voice echoed with the excitement of it.

“I never imagined that he’d come all the way out here,” he said. “He’s pretty busy with his law practice...and you know how things have been between us since his mama passed on. But soon as he heard the situation, he said he was comin’, no two ways about it. We’re gonna have us a grand old time after all, by golly.”

“I am so glad for you, Pate. I really am.” She realized she sounded a little wistful and tried to pick her tone up.

“Lacey, hon, all things work for the good, just like the Good Book says. I’m tellin’ you that this is all gonna work out for your good, too—better than you imagine.”

“I hope so.” Then, more positively, “I’m countin’ on it.”

“Well, I know Cooper can be a mite disagreeable, and this is all an upset to your plans. But I know, too, that Cooper will see you and the children safely to Pine Grove. Don’t you worry. I’ve known Cooper for nigh on to twenty years now, since his first years drivin’. He’s a good reliable driver. A good
man
.”

“I know you wouldn’t have asked him to drive us, if you didn’t believe he’d take care of us.”

“No, I wouldn’t have. Now, honey, you need to see your folks and get things all patched up there, and well, Cooper needs your company on this trip. Holidays are a mighty lonesome time for him.”

Lacey thought that Cooper didn’t seem like the type of man to want, much less need, anyone, but she said, “We’ll all be just fine, Pate. And I’ll telephone you just as soon as we get back.”

They wished each other Merry Christmas and hung up.

Then, standing there with her hand still on the receiver, Lacey realized she had missed the chance to ask Cooper’s full name.

* * * *

Their duplex apartment dated from the fifties, and the years could be counted by the thick layers of paint. There was a living room, kitchen, and two bedrooms, and in order for her children to each have their own, Lacey slept on the pull-out sofa bed in the living room.

She pulled the bed out in the dimly lit room and placed the traveling bags on it, throwing a few things in them that she’d bought that evening. One hand on her hip and the other raking through her hair, she looked at the worn bags, the worn quilt, the shadows on the worn walls. Not at all like the warm, graceful home where she had grown up.

Her parents’ house was two-story brick, with a small rounded entry porch. A banker’s house, Lacey and her sister Beth used to joke. Their father had been a banker; a loan officer. On more than one occasion his refusal of a loan request had proven embarrassing for his daughters, who received the punishing resentment from the children of the parents who had been denied. Lacey and Beth heard the rumors about their father as being a hard man, an ‘old miser’ and an ‘old skinflint’.