A Lady in Waiting
I have been waiting for Hank Booth for quite a while now, and he's finally almost here. I wasn't in any hurry for him to arrive; preferring to let him take his time, enjoying his weekly trips to that little fishing pond with Fred Hawkins, his afternoon chess, dominoes or checkers games with Bill Minor and Sam Fletcher, and of course his crocheting sessions with the ladies at Willow River Retirement Center.
Marjorie Collins and Alice Beasley are attractive women, and I certainly understand that men will be men, no matter their age. Regardless what age Hank or any other guy attains, they don't feel any different inside their heads than that young fellow who courted a pretty girl, went off to war, defended their country, and came home to start really living again.
Every generation thinks they are special, but those of us who lived through the Great Depression and World War II, we know we are! We had to grow up fast in order to help our folks put food on the table by doing odd jobs. We had to mature very quickly to face the threats of offshore German subs and food rationing.
Some of us marched off to fight for freedom, and others stayed home to miss them and hold down the status quo. We had to get real serious real quick, but we also knew how to live well. Dancing to "Begin the Beguine," "We'll Meet Again," or "Sentimental Journey" with your best girl in your arms; now that was living.
How do I know all this? Because I was that girl. Hank Booth's best girl Margaret. I'm the one he gave that ring to. The one inscribed "Forever Starts Today, March 15, 1941."
I'm the one who made fried chicken most Sundays after church, and tuna casserole for Friday dinners, and filet of sole during Lent. I'm the one whose light flaky pie crusts, tart cherry and spicy apple fillings were sought after when St. Joseph's bingo suppers came around.
When our grandsons came to stay with us, the older one developed a love of fruit pies that continues today. That boy can't ever get enough pie. Jared, now he's another story. You want him to mow the lawn without complaint? Have some chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven waiting on the kitchen table with a tall glass of cold milk when he walks in from school.
Hank thought those boys behaved pretty well, and they did most of the time. But you can bet Grams' treats were very useful bribes to coax cooperation when they started to stray a bit. A newly baked brownie was more effective sometimes than fussing or delivering a lecture.
So I've been lazing around, under my half of this granite marker for the last 27 years. I'm telling you breast cancer is an awful way to go, my worst enemy, because I wasn't there to tell my grandsons Godspeed and hug them close when they joined the military.
Lord knows where all Seeley's been in the service of his country. (Well, actually I do too, but I can't let on.) Jared sailed all over kingdom come handling computers and security on so many ships I've lost count.
I had to stand by and watch when Hank gave Seeley my ring for that wonderful girl he finally got together with. And that little girl they gave us? Christine is quite the apple of my eye, though she's never seen me. Sharp as a tack, just like her daddy. Kind-hearted and sweet like her momma Temperance. I really didn't care if those two tied the knot, but I have to admit Angela gave them the most beautiful wedding I think I've ever seen.
Hank's not gonna meet his little namesake in person just yet. The kids told him a few months ago that their baby boy was on the way. Tempe let him feel the little fists and heels wiggling and thumping around. The two of us will enjoy watching the second Hank Booth grow up tall and strong.
A few years ago, Hank came to talk to me one day. He was way down in the dumps. Joe's drinking finally did himself in. Our son had been off on his own for the longest time, ever since Hank read him the riot act about how horridly he was treating his boys.
My husband had borrowed Joe's electric drill and drove out to return it. He climbed the porch steps and heard yelling and crying. Looked through the window and nearly threw up at what he saw. Joe whaling the daylights out of Seeley with a belt, banging his head against the kitchen table. We didn't have cell phones back then, so Hank didn't stop to call me.
He kicked Joe out for good, told him to get lost. Liked to broke his heart, but he did it. No son of ours will act that way! Hank gathered those two little boys' pajamas, toothbrushes and a few clothes, stuffed them into a bag, loaded those kids into our Chevrolet, and headed for home.
You could've knocked me over with a feather when they showed up, but I didn't let on. Just fed the two of them some grilled cheese sandwiches and put them to bed upstairs. Once Hank told me what happened, I took some aspirin and water up to Seeley. The poor kid tried to act normal, like he was already asleep.
I just wrapped him in my arms, and held him a while. I didn't say anything and neither did he. Jared was out like a light. Never knew a thing. Next morning Hank and I turned back into parents and started all over again bringing up those boys.
Sometimes lately when he can't sleep at night, Hank has talked to me for hours. A one-sided conversation you'd think, but he knows what I'd say. He's left a letter for the boys about Joe. When they bring Hank out here, Joe will come too.
They will put him between us, so we can keep an eye on our scoundrel of a son. You never stop loving your children, but you sure wonder where you went wrong. Nobody raises their son to act the way he did. I know he tried to make his peace once he finally got sober, but his sons didn't listen and why would they after all his meaness?
I see the Cadillac coming down the narrow road that leads up here. Hank always did want to buy a Cadillac. Never could afford one, but today he's finally getting to ride in one. Once the priest has said his piece, and the digging and planting are done, the two of us, Hank and I, will have a good long talk. And for once, we'll have all the time in the world.