The Pecan Man(37)

We sent the girls, even Patrice, to bed soon afterward. I pulled Chip aside and asked if he would help us get the bicycles from the garage once the girls were asleep.

It was no easy task getting those bicycles into the living room without waking everyone in the house. Even though I had them delivered fully assembled, it was after eleven o'clock when we finally got everything arranged just right.

I barely remember walking Chip and Clara Jean to the car.

“I’m so glad you could join us tonight,” I said as Clara Jean leaned over and hugged me. “I hope it didn’t take too much time away from your families.”

“We enjoyed it, Miz Beckworth,” Chip said. “I don’t ever remember such a peaceful Christmas Eve.”

Chip opened the passenger door, holding it long enough for Clara to slide gracefully into the low bucket seat. She winked at me as Chip went around the back of the car and opened the driver-side door.

“You approve?” she whispered.

“Very much so,” I said.

“Merry Christmas to you both,” I added as Chip slid behind the wheel and leaned over to smile at me.

“Merry Christmas!” they said at once.

Already synchronized, I thought as they pulled away. That’s a good sign.

I have never heard such a racket as I did the next morning. The squeals of joy and excited laughter shook me from my sleep and I rushed to put my clothes on so I could join the family downstairs. Gracie met me at the top of the stairs.

“Miz Ora! Mr. Pecan,” she called. “Come look at what Santy Claus brought us!”

I thought she would pull me off my feet going down those stairs.

Most of the gift-giving I’d done in the past had been accomplished anonymously or at least at arm’s length. This was the first time I’d really experienced the joy firsthand. Gracie was beside herself with glee.

“It’s got a real horn,” Gracie squealed as she squeezed the bulb attached to the handlebars of her new pink bike.

“Oh, Gracie,” I exclaimed. “You must have been a really good girl this year.”

“I was, Miz Ora. Really, really good.”

ReNetta and Danita were equally thrilled. Danita pounced on the purple bike, proclaiming purple her “favoritest” color ever. ReNetta was happy with the orange one, since orange and black were her school colors.

“Oh!” she gasped as the thought came to her. “I can ride it in the spirit parade next year!”

“You better keep that thing nice, if you plannin’ on doing that,” Blanche spoke up.

“I’ll wash it every day!”

I laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far, honey.”

After the other odds and ends were unwrapped, Eddie took the girls outside to try out the new bikes. Patrice stayed in to help clean up the living room.

Patrice was quiet as she picked up the crumpled wrapping paper and bows and stuffed them into a garbage bag. She liked her bicycle and the clothes I'd gotten at Penney's, I was sure of that, but she seemed distant and sad. I asked her about it after Blanche went to start breakfast for us.

“I'm all right, Miz Ora. Really."

“Something's bothering you, though. Is it Marcus?"

She nodded and her lips began to tremble as she fought for composure. She sat on the edge of the ottoman, resting her forearms on her legs.

“It's the first Christmas we've ever had like this."

“Without him, you mean?"

“Yeah. He was so excited about the Army, about having a real job and money to spend. He wanted to help Mama." Her voice broke and I waited, unable to speak.

“He wanted Christmas to be big this year. He was going to…"

My heart ached for her.

“He was going to get bicycles for the girls," she barely got the words out before breaking into sobs.

“Aw, honey," I said, moving to kneel before her, my hands on her knees. “I'm so sorry."

“It's okay, Miz Ora. You didn't know about the bikes. You didn't mean any harm."

I stood then, leaning over to catch Patrice's face in both hands. I pulled myself toward her and planted a kiss on the top of her head. When I looked up, Blanche was standing at the edge of the dining room, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel and watching us intently. Without a word, she turned and went back into the kitchen.

The gaiety of the house returned when the girls came in to eat breakfast. Eddie's eyes were shining and the creases in his face seem amplified somehow. He kept his mouth closed as usual, but the rest of his face wore a happy grin.

Patrice remained quiet and so did Blanche. I found it very hard to make small talk, so I stayed quiet and listened to the chirping of the little birds at my table.





Twenty





Blanche never said another word about Eddie being there. Her children continued to come to the house each day and soon Grace had Eddie sipping fake tea from the tea set she found in the attic. Blanche and I eventually stopped holding our breaths every time Grace and Eddie interacted, but we still gasped aloud the night Grace brought up her "dream" at the dinner table.

Harley Odell had stopped by just as we were finishing dinner and I invited him to stay for coffee and dessert, which he accepted so eagerly I thought he must have timed the visit deliberately. Blanche had stood up to clear the table and fetch dessert and I was pouring coffee into the judge’s cup when Grace piped up from out of the blue.