Jubilee's Journey (The Wyattsville Series) (16 page)

Jubilee looked up with the right side of her face twisted in an expression of doubt. Her eyebrows were slanted and her mouth pulled up. “That don’t sound right to me.”

“Doesn’t sound right,” Olivia corrected. “And what doesn’t sound right?”

“All of it.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“This Aunt Anita don’t even know me. Why’s she gonna do all that stuff?”

“Because you’re her niece, her sister’s child. Aunties always love their little nieces.”

The crinkled map of doubt spread across Jubilee’s face. “That ain’t what Paul said.”

“Isn’t what Paul said,” Olivia corrected. After a year with Ethan Allen she’d developed a habit of doing it without thinking. “Why? What did Paul say?”

“He don’t know if Aunt Anita is gonna like us.”

“Nonsense,” Olivia poo-pooed the words. “She’s your aunt, your mother’s sister!”

“Yeah, and that’s why she ain’t gonna like us.”

“No,” Olivia said emphatically. “That’s the reason why she’ll not just like you, she’ll absolutely love you!”

Jubie shrugged, but she still wore that crinkled look of doubt.

It was a twenty-minute drive to Kline’s Department Store. On the way Olivia questioned Jubilee about what type of clothes she would like. “Dresses,” Olivia suggested. “Pink, maybe, or pale maize.”

“Whatever they got is fine with me,” Jubilee answered. 

“You’ll also need undies and some pajamas.” For almost a full five minutes Olivia counted up the things Jubilee would need. She even added a new suitcase to carry the clothes to Auntie’s house, once they’d found her.

Jubilee listened wide-eyed, and when it seemed Olivia was done with listing all the necessities, she asked, “What about Paul? What’s he gonna wear?”

A jolt of reality shot through Olivia. After Charlie died she’d learned to set aside bothersome problems, relegate them to a spot in her mind that served as a storage closet, a place to put things that were not being used but impossible to get rid of. For a brief while she’d locked the missing brother in that closet, but now he was hammering to get free. “Ah, yes, Paul,” she said. “Well, first we’ve got to find him—”

“He don’t need finding!” Jubilee said with an air of exasperation. “He ain’t lost! He’s working! He’s coming back to where I’m supposed to wait!”

“Well, perhaps Paul had to go somewhere else,” Olivia said softly. “Maybe he wants to come back but can’t.”

“He’s not somewhere else! He’s coming back!”

Jubilee turned an angry face to the window, and in the reflection Olivia saw a solitary tear slide down her cheek.

They rode in silence for several minutes. Then Olivia said, “How about this? We’ll get you some nice new clothes today, and when Paul gets back we’ll buy him some new clothes too.”

Jubilee turned to Olivia with a smile. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

Kline’s was having their first-Thursday-of-the-month sale, and just inside the door were several rows of colorful dresses. “What size are you?” Olivia asked.

Accustomed to shopping at the company store and settling for anything that looked big enough to last two or three years, Jubilee shrugged. “I dunno. What size they got?”

Olivia eyed the girl, then pulled a size five from the rack. “This looks about right.”

“Ain’t it kind of small?”

Olivia looked at the dress again, then looked at Jubilee. “Turn around,” she said. She measured the dress against Jubilee’s back. “No, I think a size five is just right.”

“I’m still growing,” Jubilee warned.

Olivia chuckled. “I know that but by the time you’ve outgrown the size five, you’ll need new dresses anyway.”

They left Kline’s with six dresses, ten pairs of lace-trimmed socks, embroidered panties for each day of the week, two pink nighties, and a pair of black patent leather Mary Janes. Jubilee was wearing a red-and-white check pinafore and the Thursday panties. After stopping at Woolworth’s for lunch, they started home.

Perhaps it was because she was busy thinking of the time and wanting to get back before Ethan Allen came from school, or maybe it was because she had drifted into remembering her own nieces and nephews who were now grown with families of their own. Regardless of the reason, Olivia drove home without considering what route she should take. They were traveling west on Main Street when Jubilee let out an ear-piercing yelp.

“Stop!”

As she slammed her foot down on the brake, Olivia realized why. They were in front of Klaussner’s. She eased the car to the side of the street and turned off the motor.

With a petrified look on her face, Jubilee pointed to the bench. “It’s gone.”

“What’s gone?”

“The note of where I am.”

“Maybe the wind blew it over by the grass.”

“No.” Jubilee sniffed. “Ethan put a rock on it.”

“Let’s go have a look.” Olivia climbed out of the car, circled around, and opened Jubilee’s door. “Come on,” she said, extending her hand.

With tears already overflowing her eyes, Jubilee looked at the empty bench and shook her head sorrowfully. “It’s gone.”

The sadness in her voice made her words seem old, like those of a woman who had lived too many years and lost too many loved ones.

“We’ll write a new note,” Olivia suggested. “And we’ll tape it to the bench so it can’t blow away or get lost.”

Jubilee shook her head again. “Unh-unh, I gotta stay here.” She scooted onto the bench and sat with her feet dangling above the ground.

Olivia sat down beside her. “Well, if you stay here, then I’ll just have to stay here with you, because I can’t leave you here alone.”

“Don’t worry. You can leave me alone. I’m big enough.”

Olivia was looking down at a miniature-sized version of herself. She remembered the lonely times when she was too independent to allow someone else into her life. If she had it to do over, would she do it the same way? Probably not. Being brave on the outside was a lot easier than being lonely on the inside.

“I know you’re big enough,” she said. “But friends don’t run off and leave each other.”

There was no response.

After two full minutes had passed, Olivia asked, “We
are
friends, aren’t we?”

“I suppose so.”

Without another word they sat side by side on the bench for almost two hours. When Jubilee began to fidget—scratch one leg and then the other, lean forward, lean back, puff the skirt of her dress, then smooth it out—Olivia figured it was time.

“I really do think taping a note to the bench would work fine,” she said.

“If it rains, the writing will wash away.”

“I’ll write it in pencil. Pencil doesn’t wash away.”

“It don’t?”

“Doesn’t,” Olivia corrected.

“What if Paul don’t see the note?”

“I’ll make it big. If he comes back, he’ll have to see it.”

Jubilee shook her head doubtfully. “I don’t know.”

“Why don’t we try it?” Olivia suggested. “I’ll get some paper and tape. We’ll make a new note and tape it to the bench. Then if you don’t think it will work, we’ll stay here and wait.”

“If I don’t think the note’s big enough, you’re gonna stay here with me?”

“Yes.”

“Okay then.”

“Do you want to stay here and wait while I get paper and tape?”

Jubilee nodded.

When Olivia started walking toward the stationery store a block down, Jubilee called after her, “You’re coming back, aren’t you?”

Olivia stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Of course I am,” she said, then turned and kept walking. She couldn’t see the smile on the girl’s face, but she knew it was there.

When Olivia returned, she had a yellow legal-sized pad and a fat pencil. “Okay now, what do you think we should say?”

Jubilee tilted her head, thought for a few moments, then answered. “Dear Paul,” she began. “You gotta say dear, ‘cause then he’ll know I ain’t mad at him for being gone so long.”

“Okay.” Olivia printed in large bold letters.

Jubilee went on to say that she’d waited just as she’d been told, but when it got cold and dark she went home with Ethan Allen. She paused a moment then asked, “You think we ought to tell Paul that Ethan’s a kid like me and he’s off a farm?”

“I suppose so,” Olivia answered. Her words had the sound of sincerity, but inside her heart she suspected the missing brother was not going to show up. Why, she wasn’t sure. But something was telling her Anita and only Anita had the answer.

Three times Jubilee changed her mind about what was best to say, and three times Olivia tore off the page and started a new note. Once it was finished, Jubilee suggested they add stars to the four corners of the paper. “Paul puts stars on my papers when I do good, and this way he’ll know I’m doing good.”

Once the stars were added, Olivia wrapped tape twice around the bench to make sure the note would hold. Jubilee nodded her approval, and they started for home.

Olivia wondered if somewhere deep inside Jubilee suspected the same thing she did. Before they reached the corner, Olivia bounced back to talking about the delights that would come with Aunt Anita. “I just know she’ll have a dollhouse for you…”

As Olivia made a right onto Park Street, she saw Jubilee turn back for one last look.

Jubilee Jones

I
ain’t never had six dresses at one time. And I sure ain’t never had underpants with the day of the week spelled out so you don’t get mixed up and wear Tuesday’s pants on Wednesday. Much as I like having all this stuff, I gotta say it seems a bit wasteful. Ain’t one of them dresses gonna fit me, come next year.