Read The Vigil Online

Authors: Marian P. Merritt

Tags: #christian Fiction

The Vigil (18 page)

After I prayed, peace seem to fill a void that had been open for a long time.

 

****

 

The Fourth of July
fais do do
fast approached and most of the arrangements were in place. The committee members, myself included, assumed Beau's duties and everything was ready for the big day. I needed to find my costume and planned a visit to Mama's attic to rummage through Mawmaw's things.

I rang the doorbell at Mama's house. The unfamiliar cars parked in her driveway kept me from walking in as I usually did.

“Cheryl, hello.” Mama opened the door. As usual, she looked elegant. Her loose, classic, up-styled hair highlighted her high cheekbones and perfectly sculpted face. Her lilac blouse turned her eyes deep violet. She sported a rosy glow that suited her well. What could have put that smile on her face?

“I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but I came to find that costume for the
fais do do
.”

“Oh, right, yes. The trunks are in the attic. I'll show you where they are and turn the attic fan on for you. It's awfully hot up there. But...” She paused and grabbed my hand. “...before you go up, I want you to meet a few lady friends.” She led me into the kitchen.

Aunt Melanie sat at the end of the large farm table with several women flanked around her. Bibles lay open on the table in front of each of them.

Elaine Martin's hesitant smile greeted me. What was she doing here?

Mama swiped her hand across the room. “These are my new Bible study friends. We're starting a new weekly study and they've welcomed me into their group.”

I didn't know what to say. I had no idea Mama even considered God, and to learn she was hosting a group of women to study the Bible, fired off many surprise bells. Was this another part of Mama I didn't know? Obviously.

Aunt Melanie blew me a kiss from across the room and winked at me as though she had a secret for me. I walked to her side and kissed her cheek. “Good to see you, Aunt Mel.”

“You, too, honey. You'll have to join our little group sometime. When the time is right, of course.” She smiled at me and winked again.

Once Mama had introduced me to all six of the women, I couldn't help but feel that I'd been the topic of their conversation at some point. Especially, Elaine Martin. But was I judging too harshly? I had no real reason to believe Mrs. Martin had gossiped about me and Beau's meeting at the diner. Besides, I reminded myself that I wouldn't let what other people thought affect what I knew to be right.

“Hello, ladies. Nice to meet you all and, Mrs. Martin, good to see you again.”

“You, too, Cheryl. Last time was at the diner, right?”

I held my head high. “That's right.” I squinted my eyes and furrowed my brow. “Let me think…hmm. Was that the morning I had coffee with my old friend, Beau Battice?”

Mrs. Martin's eyes widened. “Ummm…err…why yes, I believe it was.” She lowered her head and found something quite interesting in the pages of her opened Bible.

A quick glance toward Aunt Melanie revealed a twitch of a smile with mirth dancing in her eyes. “Cheryl, I have some flowers I picked from my garden for you to bring to Annie. You are still going today?”

I nodded. Leave it to my aunt to know just how to defuse a tense situation.

Mama stood at my side. “Cheryl has been visiting with Beau's wife, Annie, on Saturdays.”

Murmurs of “how sweet” floated about the room as each of Mama's friends shared their thoughts about poor Annie.

Mrs. Martin remained silent.

“Well, I don't want to keep you from your studies. Have a good meeting.”

“I'll just go and turn that fan on,” Mama said.

Once Mama left the room, I leaned in toward Aunt Melanie as I walked out the kitchen to a chorus of good byes and nice to meet you's. “Would you show me where those flowers are?”

“Sure.” She stood and followed me into the living room.

Once out of earshot, I turned to her. “What in the world? Mama in Bible study? How? When?”

Melanie beamed. “Prayer. Lots of prayer. I've been praying for this day for years. Your Mama started new meds about a month ago, and it just seemed the right time to invite her to this new study. She said yes. So here we are. She's also coming to church with me. It's a start, and I'm excited. Now if we can only get Mawmaw to come.” When she shrugged, her curls bounced on her shoulders. “But, hey, all in God's timing. Right?”

I smiled. “Right.” I couldn't help but feel that her comment had been directed toward me more than toward a missing-from-church Mawmaw.

Mama entered the living room carrying a glass of mint infused iced tea.

“So?” she asked. A rosy glow on her cheeks mingled with the sparkle in her eyes and a smile that radiated brilliance into the room. Mama was happy. I could see it, feel it, and knew it. “The fan is on. Feel free to look to your heart's content.” She handed me the glass. “You'll need this. It's h-o-t with a capital H up there.”

I took a large gulp of the tea. Before I knew what was happening, she hugged me. I held onto her shoulders, iced tea glass and all. This time I held on just a little longer than I ordinarily would. My heart sang for her. I wanted her to be well. Maybe with the new meds and a strong guiding faith, she could overcome the harsh demons that had plagued her life for so long.

A small twitch of jealousy bit just a little. I wanted what Mama had for myself. Would I ever find the kind of peace that conquered the demons of the past?

I'd seen changes in Mama since I came back. Some I had ignored because I was too busy blaming her for all the bad choices I'd made in my life, but some I couldn't help but notice. I suspected those changes had a lot to do with why we stood here hugging one another and not having another classic Broussard brouhaha.

We walked arm-in-arm down the hall. The
whoop, whoop
of the large attic fan filled the room. We opened windows at the end of the hallway and felt the immediate rush of warm air being sucked into the attic.

“I've opened the attic door. The air will take a minute to circulate. You may want to consider doing this later this evening. It's awfully hot.”

“I'll be OK.”

She nodded and smiled. “Call me if you need anything. I'll be with my group.”

With her shiny eyes and happy smile, I maybe saw who she was for the very first time. My mama. And I found that I liked her.

 

****

 

Even with the large fan sucking air into the attic, the sauna-like heat was stifling. Mawmaw's trunks sat tucked away in the far end of the attic—farthest away from air-conditioned coolness filtering in from below and the large whooping blades.

Mama was right. Later in the evening or early in the morning would be a better time to be up here. I gasped for fresh air. Maybe I'd come back another time when I could breathe. I walked along the walkway in the center of the attic toward the trunks. A fine layer of dust and the low lighting distorted the color of the lids.

I grabbed the handle and slid the first one along the rafter onto the walkway. Perspiration dripped into my eyes as I dragged it back toward the opening. Sweat poured from every pore and drenched my cotton dress. My feet slid in and out of my flip-flops.

I walked back to the other trunk and dragged it toward the opening. Before I reached the door and the sweet cool air, my head started spinning and my vision blurred. I sat on the trunk and took several deep breaths.

 

 

 

 

Vingt

 

The thick heated air of the attic felt like breathing in water.

Just then, Mama popped her head up through the opening. “Cheryl, everything OK?”

“Yeah, but I don't think I'll be able to look through these today. Maybe I'll get Anthony to come by and take them down. Could we put them in the guestroom?”

“Sure. Here.” She tossed a wet washcloth toward me. It landed on the trunk next to me. “Please come out of there. I don't want you getting overcome by this heat.”

I lifted the towel and wiped my sweat-drenched face. The coolness took my breath away. After a few minutes next to my face, the cloth lost its coolness and matched the attic heat.

Revived by the wet towel, I dragged the second trunk next to the first one and climbed down the stairs.

“Thought you might need this.” Mama met me at the kitchen counter and handed me another large glass of sweet tea.

Aunt Melanie busied herself with clearing glasses and dessert plates from the table.

The ladies were gone.

“Thanks. Your study over?” I gulped from the glass. Goose bumps rose on my arms in the cool air of Mama's kitchen.

“Yep, we were just about finished when you got here.”

Aunt Melanie placed the dishes in the sink. “Did you find anything?”

“No, it's too hot. I'll have to look later when it's cooler. Maybe at night. Or sooner, if Anthony can bring them down.”

Mama started running water in the sink while Aunt Melanie reached for dish washing soap. The simple task seemed like something more. They seemed to work as a choreographed dance, something I suspected had not always been the case.

“I can't wait to see what Mama has saved in those dusty ole trunks.” Mama turned to her sister and giggled. “Maybe some teenage diaries she kept.”

“Oooo, I'd love to know what she was like as a teenaged girl. How often did she accuse us of being, what was it, melodramatic maidens? Maybe she wasn't too different as a young girl.”

The sisters laughed and I watched with a grateful heart. They'd been close through the years, but I'd never seen this type of sisterly display of affection.

“Why don't we all go to dinner tonight? I think Angelle is in town. She and Anthony could join us and so could Mawmaw. Wouldn't that be fun?” Mama's excitement was contagious, and I couldn't help accepting her invitation.

As I drove to see Annie, I thought of Mama and all she'd been through. I'd loved seeing the changes in Mama and her interaction with her Bible study friends and especially, with Aunt Melanie. Yet disappointment shrouded me as I left her house. I didn't have a costume and the July Fourth
fais do do
was in five days. If nothing proved suitable in Mawmaw's trunks, I'd have to get real creative. Fast.

 

****

 

As I walked into Annie's room, the deep resonating tone of Beau's voice filled the room. “Honey, you should have seen his home run. You would have been so proud of him. I love how he's grown into such a good kid. I thank God that we had him. He keeps me from going insane with loneliness. I do miss you so much.”

His words bruised my heart. Poor Beau. I tried but couldn't imagine what he must be feeling. Realizing that I'd been standing there for far longer than I should, I turned to leave. Just as I did, Beau came to the door. “Cheryl, I didn't know you were here.”

“Just for a few minutes. I walked up and couldn't help but hear you talking to Annie. I didn't want to interrupt.” I touched his sleeve. “If she can hear you, I know your words are a great comfort to her.”

He hung his head for a moment. “It's probably more of a comfort to me to say them to her.” He was truly one of a kind.

And instead of feeling jealous of my friend, my heart swelled with thankfulness that Annie and Beau had been happy together. I loved that Annie had a husband who adored her. And Beau a wife like Annie who, I know, appreciated him.

“How is she?”

“Not doing well today. I was just going to get Steven. He went out to the garden.”

“Let me get him. You stay with Annie.”

Beau pointed toward the end of the hallway. “Through there.” His usually bright eyes had faded to a dull shade of brown and the shadow of a beard spoke of how quickly he'd rushed over this morning.

The garden area had rows of raised boxes where red, white, and salmon-colored geranium blooms spilled from two of the large boxes. Each of the other boxes held foxgloves, pansies, four-o-clocks, and vinca. The explosion of color was highlighted by the bright sunshine.

I slid my sunglasses over my eyes and scanned among the boxes for Steven.

He sat, head down on folded arms atop a cement table.

I swallowed. Poor kid. I'd sat alone on my swing the day my dad died. The overwhelming pain seemed like more than I could ever bear. Aunt Melanie had come to sit with me. While I didn't know exactly how Steven felt, I'm pretty sure I had some idea. I slid onto the bench next to him.

He lifted his head. Redness rimmed his eyes as he squinted to see who sat next to him. “Miss Cheryl, hey.”

“Hello, Steven.”

He turned toward a bed of roses at the edge of the garden. “Roses are her favorite.”

“I know.”

We stared at the bushes filled with yellow, white, pink, and red roses. Someone had taken great care of the flowers here.

He continued to look ahead. “She's dying. Isn't she?”

“Yes.”

I wanted to hug him and tell him everything would be OK. But he was ten. Would he think of a hug as lame? I had no clue how ten-year-old boys thought. I ventured a touch on his hand with the tips of my fingers. “My dad died when I was four. I remember thinking my world had ended.” I paused and met his gaze as he turned to me. “You'll miss her. A lot.”

Tears filled his large brown eyes. “I already do.” He swallowed hard.

I swallowed harder. I stood and touched his shoulder. “There's still time to tell her how much you'll miss her.”

He stood and I saw the weight of a thousand tomorrows on his small shoulders. The brave little athlete had disappeared, and in his place, stood a scared little boy who had already lost his mama. I wrapped my arm around those tiny shoulders and guided him back inside to Beau and Annie.

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