The Pecan Man(36)

I thought that Eddie would eventually relax and allow himself to enjoy the attention, but he seemed to grow sadder by the minute. I made up my mind to ask him about it after the holidays passed and the excitement died down but, as usual, Gracie beat me to the punch.

We were up to our elbows in flour and sugar, our cookie baking expedition in full swing. I was rolling out cookie dough, ReNetta was cutting the shapes, Danita and Gracie were decorating and Blanche was baking the cookies and washing up dishes between batches. Eddie’s job was to hold the old shoebox full of cookie cutters and dole them out at the appropriate time. We had stars of all sizes, bells and wreaths, snowmen, snowflakes, Christmas trees, reindeer and sleighs.

The girls were having great fun deciding how to decorate the cookies for maximum effect. When Eddie pulled out the Santa face cookie cutter and the girls cut the shape, Gracie was quick to point out a serious design flaw in our cookie project. Once the white sugar crystals went on for the beard and the red crystals adorned his hat, Santa was left with a decidedly pale complexion.

“Mama, how come we makin’ Santy Claus's face so white?”

I’m not sure who was more horrified, me or Blanche. I thought back to the painting of the Last Supper above Blanche’s red couch. It’s funny what you take for granted when your view of the world reflects your own skin color.

Before Blanche could say a word, I roared, “Blanche! Get the cocoa!”

Well, that sent us all into fits of laughter that had Blanche and me crossing our legs and clutching our chests. I had never heard Eddie laugh before and I have to tell you, it was a magical sound. We laughed until our sides hurt, quieted down briefly and then started right back up again as soon as one of us replayed the scene in our heads. The little girls were only mildly amused and rolled their eyes in disgust when it took too long to collect ourselves.

We did pull out the cocoa, though. I blended it into one batch of buttery dough and let the girls cut it all into Santa faces. I have to admit, I liked the end result and I found myself wishing I’d thought to do it years earlier, when my cookies were being delivered to the families in Blanche’s neighborhood.

We were putting the last batch into the oven when Grace noticed that Eddie had gone quiet again.

“Aw, Mr. Pecan,” Grace crooned softly. She climbed gently into his lap and, resting her head back onto his shoulder, said, “Why you always so sad?”

He hugged her then. Tucked her head up under his chin and wrapped his arms around her little body.

“I’m sad ‘cause I’m go’n miss you when I’m gone,” he said.

“Where you going?” Gracie asked.

“I don’t rightly know for sure, but I can’t stay here forever.”

“Why not?” Gracie wondered.

“’Cause this here ain’t my home.”

“Where is your home, then?”

Blanche interrupted then. “Gracie!”

“S’awright. She ain’t botherin’ me,” Eddie said to Blanche. “I ain’t got a home right now, child. I done left my home a long time ago.”

“Can’t you go back?” she asked.

“Too late to go back now,” he said.





Nineteen





Christmas Eve dawned cold and crisp and the girls could barely contain themselves. Blanche and her family had been staying over every night since the weather turned too cold to walk home. Blanche and I opened the fourth bedroom upstairs, which had previously been used only for storage and was inclined to be a little cold in the winter and hot in the summer. I worried about putting the little girls in there until I remembered that Blanche’s little house had no air-conditioning at all and only the one gas stove in the living room for heat. With one double bed and a pullout couch that had been bound for the Goodwill store just before Walter’s death, there was plenty of room for the three younger girls to sleep and they were thrilled with the extra space. Blanche and Patrice took the pink room.

Out of all the events I had coordinated over the years, arranging a visit from Santa was nearly my undoing. I couldn’t imagine how parents around the world handled the delivery schedules with a houseful of children underfoot. I had to make an excuse to send Eddie out to the garage when the bikes were delivered, while I entertained the girls inside. It took a bit of convincing to keep Grace from tagging along with him. She had become his shadow and was not inclined to let him out of her sight. I had a few last minute gifts to wrap and I enticed Grace to stay with me by sacrificing my usual gift-wrapping standards and allowing her to wrap them “all by herself.”

The twins were excited to use the good china and silverware again and busied themselves with the now familiar process of setting the table. Blanche, thank goodness, had the dinner and dessert preparations under control or I’d have had a heap of trouble getting everything done.

It was decided that the girls would be allowed to open one gift that night, just after dinner. We had finished dessert and were just about to retire to the living room when Clara Jean and her date arrived. I was stunned to see Chip Smallwood without his uniform on. He looked as handsome as ever and I wondered why I had never thought of the two of them as a match.

Eddie looked a bit nervous when Chip entered, but he soon relaxed as we all sat by the fire sipping non-alcoholic eggnog and enjoying the excited chatter of the children opening their presents.