Through Julie's Eyes

Chapter Three: Better and Worse

Three weeks passed by quickly that October in Greenville. It was nearing Halloween and pumpkins and such spooky décor decorated the little tract houses along with nature's carpet of yellowish leaves that had begun to fall on every lawn. Because Seymour Krelborn was the primary gardener of his family, the leaves annoyed him immensely. Audrey Krelborn tried to laugh when her husband would grumble about how horrible the leaf litter was everyday, but after awhile it was no longer amusing. She bided her time by taking care of their house, as usual, and making autumn wreaths from the leaves that her husband didn't toss into the backyard compost pile. She hoped that by Thanksgiving Seymour's shop would be open and perhaps he could sell them; that would make it a sort of family business as she would make part of his supply and he would sell it. Even if this did not work out, she would continue her own floral consulting and sales that had gotten them by while her husband had not brought home bacon. Working at the flower shop on Skid Row had given her a skill with flowers that she wanted to continue.

It was on an uneventful day at home alone with Julie outside playing on her bike that the telephone rang faintly in the kitchen. Audrey, finding herself rather wrapped up in making a complicated wreath, half-jumped at the sound before rushing to pick up the phone.

"Hello?" Audrey asked sweetly.

"Hello. Is this Mrs. Krelborn?" asked an older woman's voice on the phone.

"Yes it is."

"Oh good, I was worried I might not be able to reach you. This is Ms. Straegle, your daughter's teacher."

"Oh, I haven't talked to you since the first day a' school," Audrey commented somewhat absent-mindedly. "Nice catchin' up with you."

"Yes," Ms. Straegle agreed rather solemnly. "Listen, Mrs. Krelborn, I have something to tell you about your daughter Julie."

Audrey's heart leaped in her chest with those words. Ever since the incident in the city when Julie was kidnapped and suffered a broken arm she was particularly protective of her. "Oh God, she didn't get hurt or somethin'?"

"No, no, Mrs. Krelborn. Julie's fine. Well, physically speaking."

"Oh my. She's not having any trouble in school, is she?"

That was another thing Audrey feared. She had never been the brightest of people and she hoped that her daughter would not struggle in school or have any sort of intellectual handicap like her.

"Oh no, no, no. Julie's a very bright girl, Mrs. Krelborn," said Ms. Straegle. "But there is something that's made me a little concerned about her."

"Well, what?" Audrey asked with a small, anxious yelp.

"It's nothing to be alarmed about, really, but your daughter seems to have a little bit of trouble making friends," Ms. Straegle concluded.

"What d'ya mean by that exactly?"

Ms. Straegle seemed to catch Audrey's protective, maternal tone and spoke more softly. "I'll try to explain. Julie has had some trouble finding friends this year. She likes to stay in the classroom at lunch because the boys pick on her a lot, and I just don't see her talking to many of the other kids."

Audrey lightly clenched her fingers around the phone. She remembered, even at age six, being called "Blondie" and other such things by the neighborhood boys to demean her. She did not respond, but continued to listen to the teacher until their phone conference ended.

"So, what I'm suggesting to you is try to make your daughter find a friend. I know that she's shy, but I think a friend would help her. You understand?"

"Yes," Audrey replied rather sadly.

At that moment, Seymour walked in through the front door and heard his wife talking on the phone. He waved at their daughter riding her bicycle on the sidewalk behind him, but stayed quiet while his wife was talking.

"I'll see what I can do," Audrey said.

"Good. It was nice chatting with you Mrs. Krelborn," said Ms. Straegle in a bit more of a chipper mood.

"You too. Goodbye," Audrey answered.

"-Bye." Then the phone line clicked and hummed faintly in a soft dial tone before Audrey hung up.

"Who was that?" Seymour asked as he walked into the kitchen.

"Julie's teacha'."

"Oh," he remarked simply, then thought about it. "What did she say?"

Audrey's smile flickered downward for a moment. "She says Julie's been havin' some trouble with the otha' kids. That she's always playing by herself."

"Is that all?"

"Well, sure if you wanna' look at it that way. But Seymour darling, doesn't it concern you at least a little?"

"Not really. It's up to her to make friends, not us."

"But Seymour, think how lonely she must be at school. Come to think of it, she's neva' told me about a friend or wanted to go play eitha'." Audrey shook her head and looked out the front window at Julie riding her bicycle. "My poor baby."

"Look Audrey, I didn't have any friends when I was six either. Maybe Julie just takes after me," Seymour argued.

"You were different from her. You were all alone," countered his wife in an unexpectedly harsh manner. Audrey recognized her error with her husband's frown and attempted to make up for it. "I'm sorry honey, I didn't mean it like that."

"Don't worry about me. You're probably right, but I still think that we have other things to worry about," Seymour replied, still looking away from her.

"Like?"

"Like the shop. I'm still not making any money, Audrey."

"We're getting by just fine, honey."

"Well, sure, we're okay for now, but pretty soon the house payments will get higher, and then there's the baby too," said Seymour.

"Seymour, Seymour," his wife sighed. "This baby's not coming for awhile, but if we're still in trouble by then we'll think a' something." Then she gently rested a hand over a tiny bulge on her stomach that was now showing. "No need to get worried."

"You're so optimistic. Maybe it's a female thing," Seymour sighed.

"And you're always acting like a worry wart. Maybe it's a guy thing," Audrey replied and kissed him on the cheek. "We've had our ups and downs before and things always turn out okay in the end, you'll see. I know your shop's gonna be a success. You put all your heart into it."

At last Seymour smiled and gave his wife a hug. "I can't win with you. I tried to tell you that havin' another baby right now would only be trouble, but you didn't listen."

Audrey laughed and broke away from the hug. "You lia'. You seemed all right with the idea back when I suggested it. So that's it then? You wanted ya fun with me but didn't think things through about the actual baby?"

"Ah, c'mon Audrey you know I'm just joking. Of course I want to have the baby. Then we'll have two great kids, like a big family." He smiled and watched his wife as she sat down and started writing frantically. "What are you writing anyway?"

Audrey looked up at him shortly, then back down at her paper. "-Anotha' letta' to Mama. I haven't even told her about this baby yet."

Seymour tiptoed closer to her and said quietly, "Audrey, she's never replied to any of your phone calls, telegrams, or letters. I don't think she'll answer now."

His wife's hand froze momentarily before she sighed and continued scribbling words. "She's neva' returned any of my letta's eitha'. At least that means she's getting them. I just wish she would reply. I miss her so much."

"After saying that you were worthless all your life and she's never replied to any of your letters you've sent her since we got married, I just don't see how you can miss her," Seymour replied and put his hand on his wife's shoulder.

"And after all that time I watched Mista' Mushnik being so mean to you, I don't know why you still want to call him Dad, but you do. I think that's what makes us meant for each otha'. We've got big hearts for even the worst people, and even more love to give afta' that."

"For the worst except Orin," commented Seymour with contempt about his wife's former boyfriend. "I didn't give him much of a chance after I saw him hit you like that."

Seymour blamed himself for the death of Audrey's former boyfriend Orin when he asphyxiated from inhaling laughing gas, and Seymour watched him die that very night. Audrey would not let her husband slip into another depressed stupor like the one that she had watched him go through not even two years before.

"There was nothing anyone could do," Audrey answered with compassion. "I did care about him back then, and that's why I couldn't leave him, so it wasn't like he neva' was loved," said Audrey.

Seymour smiled at her. "I'm just glad you're okay. Nobody should hurt you. I'd never hurt you."

Audrey leaned her head back and looked into Seymour's eyes. "I know that," she said quietly before letting him kiss her faintly on the lips.

Once their conversation had ended, Audrey felt both better and worse than before. Seymour's calm affections and demeanor had put her at ease, but what he had said about her letter worried her. Would her mother reply? Were her efforts to communicate with her mother as futile as trying to make a good boyfriend out of a sadistic dentist? She hesitated to write another word, but she continued after finding the little hope she had left. Then she finished writing and read over the letter before putting it inside a white envelope and filling out the address to Skid Row. It read:

Dear Ma,

It's great talking to you again after summer. Well, it's happened. Remember how in that last letter I mentioned that Seymour wanted to open up his own flower shop? Well, it's happened! Seymour's shop is going to open in a week, and I'm already working on wreaths for him. I'll send you a picture of the shop with this.

I know I should've told you sooner, but there's more big news, Mama. I'm pregnant! Seymour and me decided we would see what would happen and if we would end up having another baby, and I guess you could say Lady Luck came and found us. Can you believe it? I guess we'll be adding another member to the family tree in five months. It's so exciting!

Julie's 6th birthday was three weeks ago by the way. She just loves her new bicycle and rides it around everyday. I wish you could meet her, Ma. She's so big now, and she and Seymour really want to see you. I'd love to show you the house.

Love, Audrey

PS: Happy Halloween!