Where the Heart Is (33 page)

Mostly he wrote about books and study. He continued to add to Americus’ reading list, which had grown to over six hundred titles.

He said little about himself and nothing about Novalee, but the last line of every letter was always the same: “Please tell your mother I extend my best wishes.”

It wasn’t much, but it was something and Novalee and Americus would take whatever they could get. When Forney had left, they had lost a piece of their lives, something that couldn’t be filled by photography or Latin, by movies or ferris wheels . . . not by root beer floats, not by lame rabbits and not by all their tears.

Novalee thought of trying to find him, driving to all the cities where he’d been. She even thought of putting a “Come Back” message in the papers and hiring a private detective to track him down.

“And what would you do if you found him, Novalee?” Lexie asked.

“Well . . .”

“Would you tell him you love him?”

“Oh . . .”

“Would you ask him to come back?”

“Lexie . . .”

“You couldn’t, could you?”

Novalee took a deep breath, then shook her head. “No,” she said.

“No, Lexie, I couldn’t do that. Have him come back here and work in a factory? Flip burgers at Lita’s Drive In?”

“Maybe he could get on at Wal-Mart?”

“No,” Novalee answered too quickly.

“Oh. It’s okay for you, but he’s too good for it. Is that it?”

“That’s not true.”

“Here’s the truth, Novalee. You never thought you deserved Forney. Never thought you were good enough.”

“Listen to me, Lexie.”

“No, you listen to me. I know your mother threw you to the wolves.

And I know what that asshole Willy Jack did to you, but . . .”

Novalee started to push away from the table, but Lexie reached over and took her hand.

“But look at what you’ve done, Novalee. Look what you’ve done for yourself. You have a wonderful child and a home. A family of friends who love you. You have a good job. You’re a great photographer—an artist. You’ve read a whole library of books. You even go to college. You’ve got it all, honey. You’ve got it all.”

“No, Lexie. I haven’t got Forney. I haven’t got him.”

Four letters came for Americus on the same day, all postmarked Chicago. Novalee didn’t think much about it at the time. She figured from the dates that Forney might have written the letters in four different cities, carried them with him for days and days, then mailed all four at the same time from Chicago. But two weeks later, another letter arrived with a Chicago postmark and that was a definite break in the pattern. Six days later, there was another and the next week, one more.

Novalee tried to talk herself out of what she was thinking, tried not to do what she did. She knew it was silly and wouldn’t change the way she was feeling, but even as she dialed the phone, even as she started, she knew she wouldn’t stop.

First, she called the Chicago Library, but they had no record of a Forney Hull. But she knew about Forney and books, knew he had to be around them if he was to breathe, so she called the Tulsa Library, then waited a week for the copies of pages from the Chicago phone book. Nine photocopied pages—from the Abraham Lincoln Book Shop to Waterstone’s Book Sellers, Inc. She hoped she wouldn’t have to go all the way to the end, and as it turned out, she didn’t.

Forney answered on the first ring. “Chaucer’s Book Store,” he said.

For an instant, she thought she could tell him, thought she might be able to say the words, but then it was gone, floating somewhere beyond that time and that place.

“Chaucer’s,” he said once more.

Moments later, the phone clicked . . . and Novalee knew they were disconnected.

THE TINY HOSPITAL CHAPEL had not been designed for weddings. The five short pews crowded together might be enough for grieving families and the room would probably hold anguished class-mates or mournful friends. Novalee could imagine such quiet huddlings in the early hours of painful mornings, but the chapel might be too small to contain the joy of this wedding.

Seven giggling, squirming children were jammed into the front pew; smiling adults were wedged butt-to-butt in the others. Several nurses, doctors and aides, in uniform and on duty, squeezed in late and stood at the back, ready to run if they were paged.

The hospital chaplain, a pleasant-looking man with dyed titian hair, waited at the end of the aisle, his back to a stained-glass window.

At his elbow was the groom, a grinning and red-faced Leon Yoder.

When the door opened, everyone stood and turned to stare as Lexie stepped in and started down the aisle. She wore a slim suit the Where the Heart Is

color of goldenrod and carried a corsage of seven white roses, one for each of her five children and Leon’s two, all of them standing now at the front of the chapel—Brummett holding on to a renegade four-year-old, the twins with a waving toddler between them and Pauline, smoothing the hair of her youngest brother.

Novalee made a final adjustment to her camera and began shooting as Lexie, halfway down the aisle, flashed a radiant smile to Leon, the man about to become her husband.

They had met when Lexie had been able to go back to work at the hospital. Good nurse’s aides were hard to come by, so she hadn’t had any trouble getting her old job back.

Leon had been an aide, too, for nearly six years. But then he’d gone to nursing school and come back to County General, a registered nurse specializing in pediatrics.

He asked Lexie to go out one day while they were sharing a table in the hospital cafeteria. Even though she’d said no, he didn’t give up.

“Sure, he seems nice,” she had told Novalee. “But so did Roger Briscoe.”

Weeks later, when Lexie finally agreed to go out with him, Leon took her fishing. Lexie, her kids and his kids, too.

“Nine of us,” Lexie said. “It was a real circus, Novalee. We had kids with worms in their hair. Fish hooks flying. Ants in our sandwiches.

And Leon’s little girl, Carol Ann, she poured all the minnows in the lake.”

“Did you have fun?”

“We had a great time. And Brummett caught a fish. A bass. Leon said it’d weigh three pounds. Thrilled Brummett to death. Of course, he couldn’t show it. He’d grumbled all day about having to go and he acted mad the whole time. Until he caught that fish.”

“Well, do you like him?”

“Leon? Sure.”

“Sounds like you two hit it off. Sounds like maybe you all—”

“No! He’s not my type, Novalee. I mean, he’s a nice guy and all, but there’s no electricity there. None at all.”

“Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony

“I’ve tried to call you a dozen times, Lexie, but you’re never home.”

“Yeah, I know. Leon took us bowling last Saturday and on Tuesday we went to play miniature golf. If I don’t stay home and get some laundry done, my kids are going to have to give up wearing underwear.”

“Where were you last night? I drove by your place about eight.

Thought we might take the kids out for ice cream.”

“We went to the mall with Leon and his kids. He had to buy his little boy some pajamas, so we went to Sears. And I bought Pauline a blouse. Then the strangest thing happened, Novalee. While we were there, I put on this funny hat. Black with red flowers all over it. And you know what? While I was acting silly, posing in that hat, Leon told me I was pretty. He touched my lip and my eye and he said I was pretty. Can you imagine that?”

“Because marriage is ordained by God and is built on a firm foundation of trust and respect

“So yesterday when I told Leon that Brummett was in another fight at school, he said he’d go with me to see the counselor.”

“Why do you have to do that?”

“It’s something called a disciplinary conference. Remember when Brummett wrote ‘Larry Dills french kissed a goat’ on the bathroom wall?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I had to go to a disciplinary conference then. Mostly they talked about Brummett’s ‘behavior pattern’ and his ‘inability to control his emotions.’”

“He’s doing a lot better though.”

“Yeah. He’s easier to live with. Leon’s going to take him to meet one of his friends, a guy who runs a karate studio. Leon said martial arts teaches more than self-defense. He said it teaches self-control.”

“Sounds like something I ought to take.”

“Me too. I got so mad at work today I could have punched out a nurse on the cardiac unit. She spilled a cup of coffee on her desk and she made me clean it up. Acted like I was her janitor. I might just take Leon’s advice some day and go to nursing school.”

“Oh, Lexie. You should. You’d be wonderful.”

“Well, if I ever get the chance, I just might. Anyway, I called for two reasons. Brummett and Leon caught a tub of crappie Wednesday night and they’re going to treat us to a fish fry this evening. We want you and Americus to come.”

“Can I bring anything?”

“No. Just come on over whenever you get in from work. Now, the second thing is this. Can I borrow your straw hat?”

“Sure.”

“I’m going to be out in the sun all day Saturday and you know how I burn. Leon’s taking us to Arlington to see the Rangers play a doubleheader. Can you imagine what that’s going to be? Seven kids in a ball park all day with nachos and hot dogs and . . .”

“Do you Lexie take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold . . .

“I’m in love, I’m in love, I’m in love,” Lexie yelled as she came bursting into the kitchen and whirled Novalee around.

“Whoa,” Novalee said as she fell into a chair. “Lexie, do you know what time it is? I haven’t even had my coffee yet.”

“Did you hear what I said? I’m in love, Novalee!”

“Why is it so early and who are you in love with?”

“Leon! I’m in love with Leon Yoder! And I haven’t even slept with him.”

“But you said he didn’t appeal to you.”

“Forget what I said. King’s X on what I said.”

“Lexie, what’s going on?”

“You’re not going to believe this story, Novalee. You will not believe it.”

“Try me.”

“Okay. Listen to this. Leon’s daughter, Carol Ann? She is not his daughter.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Cody is his son, but Carol Ann isn’t his daughter.”

“And that’s why you’re in love.”

“Now! Let me tell you how he got her.”

“Lexie, let’s have some coffee. I think you need it more than I do.”

“Listen. Three years ago, Leon met a woman named Maxine. Max, he calls her. She had a little girl, Carol Ann. Well, Max moved in with Leon. Max and Carol Ann. You with me so far?”

Novalee nodded and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.

“Okay. Max gets pregnant with Leon’s baby and Cody is born. So they have these two babies. Her Carol Ann and their Cody. Right?”

“Right.”

“Well, when Cody was just a few months old, Max up and says she’s leaving. Going to Mexico. Just like that. She’s through with Leon and she didn’t want their baby, Cody. She didn’t want her Carol Ann, either, until she found out Leon did. He said he was scared of what would happen to her if Max took her to Mexico because by then, he could see that Max was a shitty mother.

“So, when Max found out Leon wanted the girl, she knew she had something to bargain with. Now, here’s the clincher!

“Leon had a bright red ’67 Camaro. And Max wanted it. So she traded her daughter for it.”

“What?”

“Yes! She traded her daughter for a car.”

“Lexie!”

“Leon never saw Max or the Camaro again.”

“That’s amazing.”

“Novalee, when he told me that, I knew Leon Yoder was the pick of the litter.” Lexie’s eyes filled with tears, but she smiled. “And that’s when I knew I was in love.”

“I now pronounce you Husband and Wife.”

AT FIRST NOVALEE thought the music was in her dream. Slow romantic song. Lots of violins. She rolled over and pressed her face into her pillow, then realized she wasn’t dreaming. The music was coming from outside her window.

She checked the time as she crawled out of bed. Eighteen minutes before midnight. She tiptoed down the hall to the living room and peeked out the front window.

Benny Goodluck was sitting on her deck.

She eased the front door open, then stepped outside. The music was coming from his pickup parked in the drive; the volume was up, the windows rolled down.

“Benny, what are you doing?”

“Did I wake you up?”

He was wearing a tuxedo and cummerbund. His snap-on tie had come undone, the bow now dangling down the front of his stiff white shirt.

“What’s wrong, Benny?”

“Nothing.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Are you mad, Novalee?”

“No, I’m not mad. But you’re supposed to be at the prom.”

He was folded into a lawn chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Pretending a sudden interest in the toe of one shoe, he bent to inspect it. “I was,” he said, “but I left early.”

“Where’s your date? Where’s Melissa?”

“I took her home.”

“You sure ended the evening early.”

“Well, Melissa didn’t care,” he said, but his words slid together and “Melissa” sounded like “Melissha.”

“Benny, have you been drinking?”

“No. Well, not really. I had two beers.”

“Is that why Melissa wanted to go home? Because you were drinking?”

“Yes. I mean no. I didn’t drink until after I took her home, but . . .”

Benny twisted in his chair. “I didn’t have a date for the prom, Novalee.

I told you a lie.”

Novalee pulled up another lawn chair and sat down, pulling her legs up under her long cotton gown.

“I asked Melissa, but she already had a date and Janetta Whitekiller did, too, so I went by myself. But I wasn’t the only one. Some other guys went without dates. Some of the other dweebs like me.”

“Benny, don’t say that. I’ll bet both of those girls would’ve had a better time with you than whoever they went with. I’ll bet they—”

“I didn’t ask them, Novalee.”

“What?”

“I didn’t ask Melissa or Janetta. I lied about that, too.”