CHAPTER
twenty
Stan and Marvel DeYoung lived in the house Pop Sweet had ordered out of a Sears and Roebuck catalog when Norm was just a baby. After Mom passed away, he’d given them an interest-free loan and he’d moved into the little apartment above the bakery.
By then they’d had the twins and we knew they needed the space. There was no question, it was the right thing. Besides, it was nice to keep the house in the family.
I pulled the Bel Air into the drive behind Marvel’s station wagon. Hugo was in the front seat, all the way to the edge and with his hands on the dashboard. His little fingers drummed along with the hopping rhythm of the song on the radio. It was a catchy tune, and I found myself humming along to the melody of “Walk Right In.”
I suspected, though, that Hugo’s tapping had less to do with the song and more with being nervous.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
He shrugged, still keeping an eye on the house.
“Are you worried about something?”
He nodded.
“Your mommy?”
“Yes.”
“I tell you what.” I turned in my seat so I was angled toward him. “I want you to have fun with the boys. That’s your job today. All right? And it will be my job to worry about your mother today.”
Eyebrows knit and lips pushed together, he turned toward me.
“We’re letting her rest for another day.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “I think she’d want you to play hard. She wants you to laugh a lot. Do you think you can do that?”
“Maybe I can try.”
He turned back toward the house. Just seconds later, Nick and Dick came crashing through the gate from the backyard, hands and bottom half of their legs covered in mud.
“What’s your job today?” I asked.
“To have fun?”
“That’s right.” I nodded toward the twins. “And don’t be afraid to get dirty.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered before pushing the door open.
Looking at me over his shoulder, he smiled. It was a small smile, more of a grin, but it was nice to see either way.
The twins met him at the driveway and nodded toward the backyard, saying something about how they’d been waiting forever to jump in the mud with him. All three raced off, and it did my heart good to see Hugo keeping up with them. I wasn’t even miffed that he’d forgotten to close the car door.
The boy needed some time to just be a boy.
Marvel’s kitchen looked just the way it had when it had belonged to her mother. The cupboards were a light wood color with the white porcelain knobs Mom Sweet had loved. The counters were the light blue tile she’d always hated.
I stepped in through the kitchen door—not knocking—and put my foot on the checkerboard floor and felt nothing but happy memories.
I could almost see Norman’s mother standing at the sink, her back to me and her apron tied loosely around her thick middle. When I blinked, the image passed, and Marvel came in from the hallway.
“Goodness, what a hot day. I just turned on the attic fan,” she said. “Every year I ask Stanley how much it would cost to get an air-conditioner. Every year we decide it’s too expensive. But on days like this, I wonder if it might be worth it.”
“Oh, just wait a few months.” I dropped my purse onto the counter. “We’ll be freezing again.”
“Isn’t that the truth.” She dabbed a white hanky against her forehead. “I saw Hugo out back. I warned the boys to be on their best behavior.”
“I just hope he can let himself have fun.” I set the cookies down and pulled at the folds in the bag. I took out two, making sure neither had raisins, and handed one to Marvel.
“Just what I need,” she said, taking a bite. “At the rate I’m going, I won’t fit in my swimsuit.”
“I’m just impressed that you still have one.” I broke my cookie in half. “I don’t think I’ve worn one since Norman and I got married.”
“Oh, honey, you need to get out more.” Marvel winked at me. “We’ll go to the lake this summer with the boys.”
“That would be fun.”
“Do you think Hugo and Clara will still be around in a few weeks?” She licked a crumb off the pad of her thumb. “We could go over to Grand Haven or Holland once the lake warms up a little. Just a day trip.”
“Well, I’m not sure,” I said. “We’ll have to see what happens.”
Out the window I saw Hugo standing on the dry edge of a puddle that took up nearly a quarter of the backyard. Nick and Dick were both sitting in it, already completely filthy. From the looks of it, they were trying to convince Hugo to join them.
“I can’t believe you let the boys make a mud pit,” I said, turning toward her.
“I can’t either.” She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of lemonade. “You want some?”
“Yes, please.” I grabbed two glasses out of the strainer, catching another glimpse at the boys through the window over the sink.
It didn’t take nearly as much begging as I would have thought before Hugo pinched his nose and jumped right in the middle of the puddle, sending the dirty water in splashes all over the twins. Nick and Dick put their arms up, cheering for him.
I couldn’t help but hoot with laughter. What a delight to see him do a thing like that.
When the water settled, I saw Hugo covered in mud and wearing the biggest smile I’d seen on him yet.
It was such a departure from the boy with worried eyebrows and pinched-together lips.
“Would you look at that,” Marvel said, standing close beside me and resting the pitcher on the counter. “I knew he had it in him.”
She filled our glasses and smiled.
We sat at the table, each of us enjoying just one more cookie. Marvel squinted her eyes and put a finger to the tip of her chin.
“I lied to Albie today,” I said.
“Don’t beat yourself up too much about it,” Marvel said. “I lied to him yesterday.”
“You did?”
“Well, I don’t feel good about it.” She slouched in her chair. “I guess he bought some new cologne at the Five and Dime. He wanted to know if it smelled good.”
“And?”
“Oh, Betty. It didn’t.” A laugh broke through and she shook her head. “It was—oh—it was strong. But I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.”
“He bought cologne? And wore it?”
Marvel nodded. “I think it has something to do with you-know-who.”
“Clara?” I sighed. “That poor man.”
“Now, spill it.” Marvel leaned forward. “What did you lie to him about?”
“I told him that Clara was under the weather,” I said. “But I think it’s worse than that.”
“Oh.” Her smile dropped and she moved back in her chair. “What’s wrong?”
I took a sip of my lemonade, glancing out the window again to see what the boys were up to. All I could see was mud and all I could hear were loud voices from out back.
I put my glass on the table. “I don’t know exactly. She’s scared and sad and refuses to get out of bed.”
“Do you think that’s why she came home?”
I shrugged, no answer to her question. But the last word stuck in my mind. Home. Clara had come home. It was where she belonged.
“I’ve told you about my mother,” I said. “Haven’t I?”
“Clara’s a bit like her.”
From outside I heard a long laugh and a sploosh. When I looked up, I saw splashes of muddy water splattering into the air.
“I worry most about him.” I nodded toward the backyard. “It’s hardest on him and I’m at a loss as to how I can help.”
“You know what I was just thinking about the other day?” she asked. “When Dick was so sick with the measles and pneumonia. Do you remember that?”
“How could I forget?” I shook my head. “It was terrifying.”
“We had more than a few close calls, didn’t we?” She pushed out a puff of air.
The poor thing had been in the hospital for so long and he was so very miserable. I’d come sit with him late at night so Marvel could sleep, even if it was just in a cushion-less armchair in the corner of the hospital room.
“What made it even worse was how frightened Nick was,” she said. “Gosh, it made me mad that they wouldn’t let him visit Dick. All it did was make his imagination run wild and give him awful dreams about his brother dying.”
“Those were difficult days. I remember.”
“And what did you do?” She crossed her arms and grinned at me. “You came over every night before bedtime to tell Nick stories. And then you’d come to the hospital and tell the same ones to Dick.”
“Well, Nick said it would make him feel better if I did that.”
“It did, honey.” Marvel reached for me, cupping her hand around my bent elbow. “Maybe Hugo needs a couple of Aunt Betty’s bedtime stories.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s been so long.”
She shook her head. “Not that long.”
I nodded and caught a tear on the back of my hand. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”
“Because you love him.”
“I wish he had it easier,” I said, sniffling. “I wish Clara had it easier. Her life has been so difficult.”
“I know, Betty. I know.” She leaned forward in her chair. “She’ll get there eventually. Don’t you think so?”
“Oh, I hope so.”
“Now, how about we make a few sandwiches for the mud monsters?” she said. “I’ll bet they’re working up quite the appetite.”
“I’m sure they are.”
I took my empty glass to the sink and watched the boys while I waited for her to get all the fixings out of the fridge. I could only tell which one was Hugo because he was quite a bit smaller than the twins.
He took a great glob of gunk and smashed it right on top of his own head. I covered my mouth, catching a laugh that felt so good when it came out.
It little mattered to me how long it would take to spray the mud off of his skin or scrub it out of his curls. What mattered—truly mattered—was watching him being a little boy.
I just wished that Clara could have seen him too.