Keeping Faith by Cindy Bradford (serial 10)
Chapter 2, Part VI
Cindy Bradford
The weeks raced into December and dread crept into Sue. She had found the holidays almost unbearable since her parents’ deaths and now Patrick would be leaving for two weeks.
But there was no ignoring the time of year. The town was dressed for the holidays with cheerful Salvation Army volunteers at the four corners of the main shopping area tolling their bells and wishing the generous a Merry Christmas. A life-size nativity scene sprawled across the side lawn of the First Baptist Church. Bales of hay were scattered strategically along the outer edges so believers could sit and watch a brief enactment of the Christmas story every Friday and Saturday night.
The oil derricks were the big draw. Each was silhouetted in red and green lights as had been the custom since the oil boom in the 1930’s. The discovery of oil in the area had once brought thriving camps and rowdy settlements, but that was all gone now. All that remained as a reminder of that era were the few pumping wells outside of town, a half dozen mansions owned by a lucky few big landowners, and the derricks now used only for decorations. People came from as far away as Dallas on the holiday weekends to see the twinkling bulbs dance across the dark East Texas skies. It was impossible not to feel the magic of Christmas.
“All we need is a little snow on the pines and we’ll have a scene right out of the movies,” Sue said, knowing that scenario was unlikely. It rarely snowed in Townsend and when it did, it was mostly sleet instead of puffy flakes.
“I’ll bring you some from New England. How would that be?”
“You just bring yourself back.”
Patrick placed a long slow kiss on her mouth before stepping out into the crisp winter air. He stuck his hands in his leather bomber jacket and started to walk down the driveway. When he reached the end, he turned to see Sue still standing at the door.
“I love you. See you in two weeks.”
Had she heard him correctly? Several times during the last couple of months, he had come close to saying those words. Or, that’s what she told herself, but this was the first time he had actually said “I love you.” She barreled through the door and raced to him, forgetting she was in her socks and the concrete was wet from a winter shower. It didn’t matter. She fell into his arms. “Oh, Patrick, I love you so much. I’ll miss you, but you’ve just made this my best Christmas ever.”
≈≈≈
Spring semester passed so quickly it was almost a blur, a hazy mixture of young love, homework and basketball. Always basketball. But, there was still time for movies and leisurely drives along the oily back roads, tangled in poison ivy and sumac, rarely traveled by even the people who owned the adjoining property. And still time for ice-cream. Sue loved ice-cream. She often thought back of the times she would go to the ice house with her dad. The iceman would take the oversized tongs, picking up what seemed like a giant block of ice and placing it on plastic in the trunk of the car. Then they would have to hurry, drive fast to get back before it started melting. Her mother would just be finishing cutting up the peaches, putting them in the creamy mixture. She would loosen her apron from her cotton plaid shirtwaist dress, hang it on a hook by the sink and join the family outside.
Sue’s job was to sit on the old wooden machine, covered with a kitchen towel, while her dad cranked the wheel. Alice refused to sit, but because she wanted to hear her daddy’s stories, she stayed close by and added the rock salt when it was needed. Both girls loved to hear his stories, from when he was a boy or how he helped win the war. They had certainly heard them more than once, they had lost count of the times, but they never tired. And when it was time to eat the ice-cream, they were usually joined by neighbors once they saw what was happening in the backyard.
Sue hadn’t let herself think about summer. She knew Patrick would be leaving right after exams to work on the lobster boats. Her heart ached as she registered for a sophomore English class and agreed to work for a local attorney, filing briefs and typing letters. She really didn’t need the money, but she wanted the diversion, anything to keep her mind busy and off of Patrick. Thinking back, there was never enough money when the girls were growing up. Her parents counted pennies and scraped together enough to send her and Alice to summer camp. But now the insurance benefits and money from the Fireman’s Fund made their lives comfortable though not extravagant.
She wrote Patrick every day, long letters, telling anything she could think of that might interest him. Once a week he telephoned, telling her how much she was missed.
The dog days of summer dragged on, lingering well into August making the city pool the busiest place in town. Little kids came to play and cool off, mothers came to watch and worry and give five minute warnings; teenagers came to hang out and preen, beach towels in tow, staying just long enough to check on the latest gossip…who was going steady with whom…who had just broken up. Missing a day at the pool could mean missing a complete courtship! She remembered those days, but now she and her friends were too old to hang out there. Besides, most had summer jobs or were going to summer school. A few had married. One even had a baby. It was strange how one year of college separated youth from something close to adult responsibility.
“I even feel different, Sis,” Sue told Alice one night over burgers at the Drive-Up Hamburger Joint. “I look to the future now. Tomorrow is more important than it used to be. Remember when today was all we thought about; now I think about spending the rest of my life with Patrick, wherever that takes me.”
They were interrupted momentarily by a teenage server, roller skating up to their car window with fries, burgers and malts. The carhop, who couldn’t have been old enough to drive, instructed Alice to roll her window down a few more inches so she could attach the metal tray of food.
“Anything else, Ma’am?”
“Oh, why doesn’t she make me feel at least a hundred years old?” Alice said rhetorically as soon as the server skated off, casually weaving between the poles that held the aluminum awning.
“Okay, back to Patrick. Has he ever really said what he wants to do, what he wants to be?”
The question caught Sue off guard. She suddenly realized she didn’t know, didn’t even know what he planned to major in. Right now they were taking their basics. It hadn’t occurred to her how he planned to earn a living for the two children she planned to have or how to pay for the two cars they planned to drive.