It wasn’t until sometime after he had arrived that she realized if you have a guest, you have to feed him, so for supper she made the only dish she knew, Franco-American ravioli straight out of a can, heated, and Gerry said it was delicious. After dinner they went out and sat on the porch and talked until one-thirty in the morning. When they got ready to go to bed, he said, “I just want you to know I am fully prepared to sleep in the back room like a gentleman. All right?”
She was relieved in a way because she had suddenly become a little nervous around him. They said good night.
After twenty minutes, she called out, “Gerry?”
“Yes?”
“I think it will be all right if you come in here and sleep with me. We won’t do anything, we’ll just sleep together, all right?”
Gerry came down the hall carrying his pillow, wearing a pair of blue bunny pajamas with the feet in them, and the minute she saw him she burst out laughing. “You fool … where did you get those?”
“Elizabeth Diggers sent them over to my office on Thursday.”
He modeled for her. “Like them? Are you sure you can trust yourself around me?”
“You are the silliest man I ever met. Get in the bed.”
He took his glasses off and put them on the nightstand and got into his side of the bed and lay down and felt her body next to his. And he was so relieved to finally be where he had wanted to be for so long that he relaxed completely for the first time since she had telephoned and fell sound asleep. The next morning at 7:00 A.M., Dena woke and looked over at him sleeping beside her like a child in his blue pajamas and the next thing she knew they were making love and for two people making love for the first time, it was surprising. She had not expected him to be so unbelievably passionate or that she could be so completely uninhibited. This was the first time in years she had gone to bed with someone when she was stone-cold sober. It was a new experience and she liked it. Gerry, who had been thinking and imagining such moments for a long time, was completely amazed. Making love with Dena was even better than he had imagined, and that was going some. Dena had gone back to sleep but he was too excited to sleep. He went down the hall and showered and shaved, got dressed, and came back. But she was still sleeping so he quietly tiptoed past her room and went out on the porch and decided he would take a walk before she woke up.
It was nine-thirty and he went into the Rexall and had a cup of coffee at the counter, then walked along the main drag. When he came back she was still asleep so he sat in the living room and waited. About five minutes later he couldn’t stand it any longer. He went into the bedroom and sat in a chair and stared at her, still astonished that it was really her, and that he was really here. She opened her eyes and looked over and saw him sitting there, all dressed.
“Hey … how long have you been up?”
He came over and sat on the bed. “For about an hour. I took a walk downtown.”
“You did?”
“This is a great little town, you know that?” And while he went on and on about how great the town was, she kept looking at him and she said, “Do you know who you remind me of?”
“No, who?”
“I’ve been trying to figure it out ever since last night when you came in wearing those silly pajamas. Little Donald. You remind me of this doll I had, this great big boy doll.”
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not.”
“Oh, it’s a compliment. I slept with him for years.”
“Is there something about you and that doll I should know?”
“No, you goof. That was in the 1940s—besides, he was not anatomically correct.”
“Whew, thank God for that. At least I don’t have to compete with Little Donald.”
“No,” she said. “You’ve already won, hands down.”
He leaned down and gave her a long, sweet, tender kiss and Dena, who never liked to be kissed in the morning, liked it.
Gerry came back the next weekend and although Dena didn’t know how she felt about that, she was glad to see him. This time he stopped and brought groceries and cooked dinner for her. She was told to go in the living room and wait, and when called she came to the table. He had set the table, something she had not mastered—she could never remember what side what went on—but the thing that impressed her most was his salad. He had actually made a salad from scratch. The main course was baked chicken in a cream sauce, green beans, and new potatoes, and a cheesecake he had brought on the plane from New York. Between bites she said, “This is delicious; where did you learn to cook like this?”
“I hadn’t wanted to tell you but I had an affair with Julia Child.”
“Be serious.”
“I don’t know, I just picked it up here and there. It’s not that hard. Just follow the recipe.”
“I don’t know how to cook. We always ate out.”
“I don’t know how you could cook in that kitchen, you don’t have any utensils. We need to go out and get you a few things.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, minor stuff—pots, pans, silverware, a can opener, mixing bowls, things like that.”
“Oh.”
“I worry about you not eating right. You need fresh food, not all that frozen stuff you have in the refrigerator.”
“It says ‘fresh frozen.’ ”
“Dena …”
“I eat at Norma’s two or three times a week, so I figure—”
“No, you need to take the time to fix yourself something healthy every day. Do you eat fresh fruit?”
Dena made a face.
“Well, you need to eat some fruit and vegetables every day. You need to start building yourself back up.”
“The next thing I know you’ll pull down a chart of the basic food groups and give me a lecture with a pointer.”
The next morning Gerry went down to the hardware store and walked in. Macky spotted him right away but waited for him to come over. Gerry walked over. “Mr. Warren?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Mr. Warren, I’m Gerry O’Malley. I don’t know if you remember me.”
“Oh, yes. How are you?” As if he could forget a man wearing pink tights and a hat with a plume standing in his front yard.
Gerry adjusted his glasses. “I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t remember, to tell you the truth.”
Macky smiled. “Hey, don’t worry about it, fella. All bets are off when it comes to love and war, right? What can I do for you?”
Then it dawned on Gerry. He had come in to buy pots and pans and mixing bowls and kitchen utensils and a meat thermometer. This man was going to think he was a fruitcake. But Macky made no comment and helped him pick out everything he needed and got a big kick out of watching Gerry trying so hard to be macho while choosing hot pads and just the right spatula and select a Mixmaster. They even had quite a long discussion about the pros and cons of Teflon versus an iron skillet. He bought both.
After Gerry had everything he needed and Macky rang it up, Gerry looked at the total. He was concerned. “Is this all I owe you? I’ve got a lot of stuff here.”
“Yes, that’s right, with your discount. And I’m throwing in a few things from Norma and me. We need to get her all outfitted.”
“Well, thanks.” While Macky was packing the bags, Gerry wandered around a little more. He came back to the counter. “I see you’ve got quite a collection of fishing lures and flies. Is there some good fly-fishing around here?”
You could see Macky’s ears perk up. “You bet, some of the best in the country, no more than an hour from here. Last month I got a ten-pound walleye.”
“Wow. What were you using?”
“A medium yellow spinner.”
“You don’t say?”
“Oh, yeah, he went for that thing like a duck on a June bug. Listen, if you get down here again sometime, I’d be happy to take you out.”
“Great, I’d like to take you up on it.”
That afternoon, Gerry started walking through th
e house again. He was in the den knocking on the walls when Dena came in. He said, “Look at this, this is Georgia pine. And these floors are oak. This house is as solid as a rock, you know that? They don’t build them like this anymore. This is a great house. I was up in the attic and it is as dry as a bone.”
Dena found herself pleased. He seemed to like the house as much as she did. “I wonder how old it is.”
“I’d say by looking at the doorknobs and the windows, it was built some time in the early twenties.” He pulled at the pocket doors in the den. “I think this used to be a parlor at one time. God, wouldn’t you love to know who all lived here and what all went on in this house?”
“The woman I’m renting it from grew up here and her mother used to have a radio show in the living room.”
“Is that so? Radio?”
“Yeah, and there used to be a big radio tower in the backyard.”
“I’ll be darned.”
“I’m thinking about buying it.”
“Really? Well, it’s a great house.”
The next weekend Gerry took everybody to the Pancake House for dinner. On the way over, Norma, in the backseat, remarked, “I just want you to know this is a first for me. I have never even met a psychiatrist, much less had a pancake dinner with one.”
Gerry glanced in the rearview mirror. “Is that so?”
“Yes. We have never had a psychiatrist in Elmwood Springs. Not that we probably don’t need one, but nobody would go if we did have one.”
“Why is that?”
“Because everybody knows everybody else’s car. Nobody would dare park in front.”
Aunt Elner was sitting in the front seat holding her purse in her lap, happy to be going. She piped up in defense of Elmwood Springs. “We had a crazy person here once, Mabel Bassett, she was as crazy as anybody. Don’t you remember, Norma, she kept batting at imaginary flies? They took her off to the loony bin but I don’t think she was really crazy, I think she was just tired. She had seven children.” Aunt Elner turned to Gerry. “I’ll bet you have met a lot of crazy people in your line of work, haven’t you?”
Dena had her eyes closed and was biting her lip.
Macky spoke up. “I think he’s just met a couple of them.”
“Oh, don’t pay any attention to Macky,” Norma said, “and if anybody is crazy, he drove me to it.”
The day before Christmas Gerry flew down again and he and Dena decorated the house with all the old Christmas decorations they found up in the attic and in the cedar chest. Christmas Eve after they had a glass of eggnog, they walked over to the church for the midnight service.
Macky and Norma and Aunt Elner had saved them each a seat. Aunt Elner had on a Rudolph-the-red-nosed-reindeer pin that her friend Merle had given her. Later, as they walked home, they agreed it was a perfect cold Christmas Eve night. The stars looked as if they had been polished, they were so bright. When they turned the corner at 1st Avenue North, they could see the blue candles glowing in the windows from a block away, and to Dena the house looked exactly like a cheerful Disney cartoon.
Before they finally went to sleep, Dena walked back into the living room to turn off all the Christmas lights. But as she stood there and watched them, glowing and bubbling in the dark, they looked so beautiful she decided to leave them on all night.
After Gerry had gone back to New York on Monday, Norma called Dena. “Well, I’m not saying anything, it’s none of my business, but if you were to ask me, he seems like a very nice person. And that’s all I’m going to say on the subject.…”
But of course it wasn’t.
Blue Skies Trailer Park
Arden, Missouri
June 22, 1979
Ralph Childress had walked over to the office to pick up the mail and was sitting in his living room going through it. It was, as usual, mostly bills, but he saw one handwritten letter addressed to him personally, written on Hotel Halekulani stationery from Waikiki Beach. He thought: Who in the hell do I know that could be all the way out in Hawaii?
Memo to State Trooper Ralph Childress
As promised, here is the update on the present status of the 15th-century troubadour you stopped on Missouri Interstate 34 on the morning of February 14th, 1976.
I am happy to report that the lady in question and I were married a week ago and are now enjoying a wonderful honeymoon.
As the man says, “All’s well that ends well.”
Best wishes,
Gerry O’Malley
Trooper Childress chuckled. “Well, I’ll be damned. That old boy finally got her. There’s a new fool born every minute.”
Edna Childress walked into the living area carrying a Mexican Chihuahua in one hand and a TV Guide in the other. “Are you gonna fix that antenna for me or am I gonna have to hire me a handyman? You’re gonna make me miss my soap.” He put the letter back in the envelope.
“Oh, all right, hold your water, old woman. I’m going. Can’t a man sit down and read his mail without being pecked to death?”
He opened the cabinet and pulled out a pair of needle-nose pliers and headed out the door. “If you’d do it when I asked you to instead of waiting so long, I wouldn’t have to nag you. Did you ever think about that?”
He walked away, saying under his breath, “Yeah, I’ve thought of that.”
She turned on the TV set and walked over to the window so she could holler up to him when the picture came in good. She hated to nag at poor old Ralph, he was a good soul. But she couldn’t miss her soap opera today. Today Faren was going to come out of her amnesia and remember who she really was!
Gerry’s Surprise
Elmwood Springs, Missouri
1984
Dear Dr. O’Malley,
I have discussed the matter with my brother, Robert, and we both agreed to sell at the price you named. Although it is always hard to give up your family home, we know that our parents would be pleased to know that you and your wife are, as you say, “in love” with it and feel the same way as our family did. I understand this purchase is to be a surprise for your wife on the occasion of your fifth anniversary and I will deal directly with Beverly as per your wishes. I wish you both as many years of happiness as my parents, when they lived there at 5348 1st Avenue North.
Sincerely,
Mrs. Anna Lee Horton
Tucson, Arizona
cc: Robert Smith
Beverly Cartwright
And So
Elmwood Springs, Missouri June
1979
At the age of thirty-five, Dena Nordstrom, who had thought that she could never love anything, had fallen in love with a house, a town, and a psychiatrist. It turned out that she was more surprised than anyone. Except maybe for Sookie.
When she had told her the news Sookie screamed over the phone, “You’re getting married! I knew it, I told you so. Didn’t I tell you so? Hurray and hallelujah. I have my dress picked out and ready to go. It’s peach. And we can get the girls little matching outfits; won’t they be darling coming down the aisle? Of course, you know Mother will have to come. Buck will fly us up there. Oh, Dena—why don’t you come do it here? At least let me give you a shower, you’ll get the best presents … nothing silver plated. Wait a minute. Who are you marrying?”
“Gerry O’Malley.”
“That New York psychiatrist! Oh, dear!”
Dena laughed. “Yes, he’s the one. But the good news is that his mother is from Virginia.”
“Virginia.” Sookie sounded a little bit hopeful. “Well, that is a border state but … who was she before she married?”
“What do you mean?”
“What was her maiden name?”
“Hold on. Gerry, what was your mother’s maiden name?”
“Longstreet, why?”
There was a gasp on the other end of the phone. “Dena, now, this is very important. Is he standing right there?”
“Yes.”
“Can he hear you?”
“No, not really.”
“Try not to embarrass him, but ask him if they were the cotton Longstreets or the lumber Longstreets.”
“Gerry, were they the cotton Longstreets or the lumber Longstreets?”
“Cotton. Why?”
“He said cotton.”
Sookie screamed, “Oh, my God!”
Dena said, “Is that good or bad?”
“You are marrying a direct descendant of General James P. Longstreet, that’s all.”
“Who’s that?”
“Who’s that? He’s just one of the most famous Confederate generals that ever lived. Wait till I tell Mother; don’t tell me I don’t have a personal friendship with Jesus Christ!”
In the meantime, back in New York, just as Sandy had predicted, the network had gone on without her. They had hired another beautiful blonde. Just as Wall-Cap Productions had hired another beautiful blonde to anchor their first show, and they were off and running. The ratings shot through the ceiling. Evidently, the public was ready for a tabloid “news” show. And soon other copycat shows started popping up everywhere until the usual network news seemed as dull as Sidney Capello had predicted. Syndication was turning out to be a gold mine.
Every once in a while, Dena would wonder where Capello was, and as it turned out, Capello wasn’t anywhere at the moment.
That fall, it rained in New York City for five days straight. Con Ed was having a hell of a time making sure all the sewers under the city were kept clear of debris and any blockage. Mike Mecelli was exhausted. He and his crew had been up for three days and nights. By the time the truck pulled up at Forty-eighth and Ninth Avenue, it was four in the morning. Mike pulled on his yellow slicker and left the truck and located the round iron cover on the Forty-eighth Street sewer line and he lifted it up and pushed it aside. He got out his flashlight, switched it on, and saw down inside the sewer the water rushing by like a raging river. It seemed to be moving without any obstruction but the water was high and they needed to check it to make sure. He went back briefly to get the rest of the crew, who were sitting inside the big truck’s cab, when Capello, who had been working late on a story involving a movie star’s love child, came out the door, started to cross the street, fell in the hole, and landed in the icy-cold, raging water. Before he knew what hit him, he was shooting under Manhattan at sixty miles an hour. Capello screamed but the storm and the roar of the water was so loud he was not heard. He was swept under and did not stop until he was in the Hudson River, headed to Jersey, where his body would be found three days later.