The Tender Years (19 page)

Virginia looked at her mother sitting there, clinging to Francine as though she was afraid to let her go.

“I have not forgotten that today is your birthday. Fifteen. I can scarcely believe it.”

She hesitated as Virginia set the pot and a rose-patterned teacup in front of her. Virginia turned to slice some cinnamon bread that the pastor’s wife had sent over.

“I’m sorry things are—that it has worked this way,” her mother continued. “Last year your birthday was spoiled with the accident and all, and this year … this year …”

“It’s all right,” Virginia said quickly. Her mother certainly didn’t need the extra burden of feeling guilty.

“Oh, Virginia. You’ve had to grow up much too quickly. I’m sorry. I pray that … that things will soon return to normal. That I can let you be a … a girl again. This has been hard for you.”

Her mother allowed Francine to move from her and stirred to pour the rich, golden tea.

Virginia moved self-consciously as she took the few steps from the cupboard counter to the table with the plate of cinnamon bread.

“Who do we thank for this?” asked her mother, who was trying to keep a running list.

“Mrs. Doyle.”

“Bless her heart. She has more than enough to take her time.”

Virginia nodded

“We’ll plan a party,” said her mother, returning to her former thoughts. “Just as soon as your grandfather gets back on his feet.”

“Foot,” corrected Francine without a smile.

Virginia and her mother looked at each other and burst into laughter. It may not have been funny, to think of Clark Davis and his missing leg, but the family had long ago adjusted to the thumping of his cane or the sight of his slight limp when he wore his artificial leg. The grandchildren were even used to running to “fetch my leg” or “put this thing out of the way in the corner.” So Francine’s gentle, sober reminder lightened the tension and served as an excuse for a good laugh.

It was much better than crying.

“How’s your grandfather?” Jamison asked as Virginia entered the church the next Sunday.

She managed a smile. It had been a number of weeks since she had spoken to Jamison.

“He’s … getting better,” she answered. In truth the progress seemed so slow that it was hard to judge from day to day.

“Good.”

The door opened again, and Virginia was surprised to see Jenny. She had been missing church services over the last Sundays, not having open invitations to join the Simpsons for Sunday dinner. Virginia saw Jamison’s eyes turn to the door, as well.

“Hello,” he said easily with a smile. “Good to see you back.”

Jenny flushed and shrugged out of her light sweater. She hung it on a peg and turned to them. Virginia noticed that she was wearing the creamy dress, much more suited to the warmth of the summer day then it had been for the mid-winter Valentine’s party.

Jenny’s cheeks glowed. She looked at Jamison, blinked the long lashes that rimmed her green eyes, and flipped back her red hair.

Virginia, whose own locks were pinned neatly in place at the nape of her neck, felt a twinge of envy. Jenny did look so … so feminine. So pert and appealing.

Jamison turned away. “See you later,” he said, and Virginia was not sure which one of them he was speaking to.

Jenny could not hide her disappointment, but she quickly covered her feelings.

“How is it going with your grandpa?” Jenny asked, watching Jamison’s retreating back. But the question was not really a question. Simply a way to fill up the silence and get past the awkward moment.

Jenny did not wait for an answer. She turned to look at Virginia, then used a word that should never have been used, particularly in the church foyer. “… Virginia! You look pale as a ghost. Haven’t you even been out of the house?”

Virginia wanted to retort with something cutting. Sarcastic. But she bit her tongue. It would not help anything to lash out at Jenny. After all, she was still praying for her friend. Still hoping to win her to the faith.

“Not much,” she said quietly. “There hasn’t been time for anything but school and …”

She let the words trail off. Jenny wasn’t really listening. She was much too busy watching the line of boys who were filing in, in rather rowdy fashion, to the last row on the right side.

“Let’s sit over there,” she said, giving Virginia an elbow and a nod in that direction.

“My family expects me to sit with them,” answered Vir? ginia.

Jenny used the unacceptable word again, softly and under her breath, but Virginia heard it. It brought a frown to her forehead and a hope to her heart that no one else in the building had overheard.

Virginia’s grandfather continued to improve slowly. He was moved home and was working hard to get back on his
one foot
. Virginia’s mother still spent much of her time out at the farm, supervising his daily exercise treatments, but in some ways things began to gradually return to some kind of normalcy.

Virginia was really not too surprised when her mother came home one evening, a smile touching her lips, a new lightness to her step.

“I think it’s about time for me to take over my duties as mother of the home again,” she said as she hung her shawl on the wall peg and unpinned her everyday hat.

“Grandpa’s better?”

The apprehensive words came from Francine, but Virginia felt them echoed in her own heart.

“He’s getting a bit better every day. He told me today that it’s about time that I went home and minded my own household and left him in peace.” She smiled again. “I think he’s getting better.”

The mood around the supper table that night was one of relief. It seemed that they had weathered the storm. Had, with God’s help, somehow come through the trying, anxious days. Now it was time to get on with normal living.

They teased and joked and caught up on one another’s lives. It was like old times. Almost like old times. Clara’s chair was no longer at the table. Virginia felt a sad little ache accompanying the thought. She had really missed Clara with the busy days that had just passed.

“Now …” her mother was saying. “I think it is about time for us to do some serious planning for an important birthday party.”

CHAPTER 18

T
he party was scheduled for the last Saturday before school started in the fall. Virginia could have as many of her church and school friends as she wished to invite. Rather than try to pick and choose from the list, she decided to invite the entire Youth Group. She was glad that Jenny would be counted in the number.

Clara promised to help her mother with the food. There would be corn to roast, crispy cold chicken, garden salads, and plenty of home-baked bread. Her grandmother was sending in some of Virginia’s favorite spiced fruit cider, and there would be fresh-turned ice cream to go with the birthday cake. She knew there would be plenty for everyone.

The guests were invited to be at the Simpson home at six o’clock for the picnic meal together, then spend the evening playing party games in the backyard.

Virginia became more and more excited with each passing day. Though it was weeks since her actual birthday, that did not matter. What did matter was that she was going to be able to enjoy some time with friends at a rather “grown-up” party. Looking back over the recent weeks and months, she felt as if she had been stuck at home with kitchen chores for
years
.

Jenny was almost as excited as Virginia.

“I’ll wear my cream,” she enthused.

Virginia shook her head. “It’s much too nice for outside games.”

“You are wearing your pink, aren’t you?”

“No. I’m wearing my blue calico.” Virginia never would have dreamed of wearing the filmy pink bridesmaid dress to an outside lawn party. Things often could get a little rambunctious, dashing for a seat in musical chairs or hopping on one foot in the one-legged race.

Jenny looked disappointed. “Why don’t you have an inside party?”

“We’ve already given the invitations.”

“But I don’t have another fancy dress.”

“You don’t need a fancy dress for a picnic. It’s just the church youth, and none of them are dressing fancy.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve been to parties before. So have you. We come for fun, not for … fashion.”

Jenny glowered at her. It was Jamison again. Jenny thought that the only reason to make an appearance anywhere was to make an impression on the young man.

“Oh, Jenny, stop it,” Virginia said in exasperation. “Mama and Clara have gone to a lot of trouble to make this a nice party for me. Don’t you go and spoil it.”

Jenny, still put out, pouted for the rest of the morning. Virginia began to wish she’d go home.

When Jenny did finally decide to go, she threw one last barb at Virginia. “I still think it’s unfair that you’ve made your party an outside one. You know I have only one party dress.”

“No one will be wearing a party dress,” Virginia shot back. “And besides—” She almost said that the party was not really designed to accommodate Jenny. It was, after all, her birthday party. But she managed to stop herself in time.

“I’m sorry,” she said instead. “I didn’t think about dresses.”

Jenny gave her a miffed look and flounced out the door with a toss of her head.

Virginia felt anger flush her cheeks. Right then her mother came into the room.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

“Oh, Jenny. She left mad. She’s angry that I didn’t plan an inside ladies’ tea instead of a youthful party. She wants to wear her cream dress—the one that is flouncy and frilly so she can impress Jamison Curtis.”

Her mother stood looking at her with a puzzled face.

“She is so petty,” complained Virginia. Now that she had an outlet for her anger she was ready to express deeply buried feelings. “No matter what I do she wants it her way, and I have to give in just because I’m afraid she will leave the Youth Group and the church and not come back, and then she will never accept the Christian faith.” Virginia’s words tumbled over each other in their rush to be heard.

Her mother moved to stand beside her and slip an arm around her shoulders. “I know it’s … it’s easy to become impatient. Discouraged. But you have been
sowing seeds
. Little by little Jenny is hearing the
truth
. But sometimes … some? times we must work … and pray for many years for someone we care about. You must not give up, Virginia. Just keep on loving Jenny and trying your best to—”

“I’ve done everything I know to do, and she just … she just goes to church, goes to Youth Group, but keeps right on living the same old way, not changing one bit. She even swears yet. Ugly words. Papa would wash our mouths out with soap if we dared to say them.”

“She won’t change on the outside until she lets God change her on the inside. A heart change is what Jenny needs.”

“I know, but she just—she ignores that. She even makes fun of what Pastor Doyle says in his sermons. I think she really knows that she is a sinner. She knows she does wrong things. And she doesn’t care. Not a whit. All she thinks about is Jamison. The only reason she goes to church is so she can see him. She stands there and makes eyes at him and tries to get him to smile at her and—she’s shameless about it. It’s just—”

“She likes Jamison?”

“She’s crazy about him. He’s all she ever talks about anymore.”

“Does he like her?”

Virginia stopped her tirade and thought about her mother’s question. She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “Maybe. He does smile at her and talk to her—and he did spend a lot of time with her at the toboggan party.”

“The toboggan party was a long time ago.”

Virginia admitted that with a nod.

“It seems if Jamison really liked Jenny he would have let her know by now.”

“How?”

Her mother smiled. “Oh—boys have ways. Offer their help. Bring a little gift from The Sweet Shop. Maybe walk a girl home from church. Just hang around and talk. Jamison been doing things like that?”

“I don’t know. Jenny has hardly been around this summer. I’ve been too busy.”

“Would … would it … bother you if Jamison did?”

Virginia’s eyes came up. She felt her cheeks warm. Her mother had guessed her little secret. She didn’t have to answer the question.

“I thought so,” her mother continued softly. “Does Jamison know that you both like him?”

Virginia felt the tears sting her eyes. “No,” she said, quite certain of the fact. “I … I can’t let him know. Jenny would be so angry. So hurt.”

“You do have a difficult problem.”

Virginia said nothing. She fought to control the tears that wanted to come. She was much too old to be crying over trivial things.

“And you would—give up Jamison—rather than hurt Jenny?”

Virginia nodded glumly. “I—she’d never come to church again. I just know it.”

Her mother put both of her arms around Virginia and held her quietly for some time, then brushed the wispy curls from her face. “You have grown up far more than even I guessed, Virginia,” she whispered. “I’m proud of you, but a little worried, too. As your mother, I feel you are still much too young to be … plagued by this boy-girl thing. Clara was older before she began to think about courtships, and I guess your father and I expected … I wish you could put off all thoughts of … of boys, too, and just be one of the group for a long time yet.” She paused and searched her daughter’s face.

“But I fear you have already been thinking—well—it appears a little late for my motherly lecture. I still don’t want you … courting. Not yet. Your father would never allow it at your age.

“And you know that Jamison will be in his last year of school. He’s older—more mature. He might even think that he’s ready to … to start seeing a … a … someone. I don’t know. But whether he is, and whether it will be Jenny
or
… or perhaps … You really can’t decide such things. You see, it’s not just your life involved here. There is Jenny, and I’m glad you are so concerned about her—and there is Jamison. Virginia, you cannot make choices for him. If he doesn’t care for Jenny—in that way—your backing away is not going to fix things. And if Jamison should happen to care for you, you are still too young to think about—anything other than friendship. Friendship is a wonderful thing, Virginia, and I see no reason why Jamison couldn’t be friends with more than one girl at this time. It doesn’t have to be Jenny or you. It can be—well, it can be both of you, and others, as well.”

The carefully chosen words were being heard. It would be so much easier if that was the way it could really be. Virginia knew she would like to have Jamison as a friend.

The partygoers began to gather a little before six, coming in singles or little groups of two or three. The church youth group was less than twenty members, so it would not be a large crowd that gathered. On this night no members were missing. Everyone looked forward to a last summer party and a chance to help Virginia celebrate the missed birthday.

Jenny was already there when the others arrived. She had spent most of Saturday afternoon at the Simpsons, pretending to offer her services with the preparations. She wore the green dress that Clara had given her, and to Virginia she seemed overdressed, but she did look stunning. Virginia was sure that Jenny would get noticed.

Virginia offered to help her pin up her hair. It really wasn’t proper for a girl at her age to be swinging her hair freely with each toss of her head. At first Jenny looked offended, but as she eyed Virginia’s swept-up curls, the results of Clara’s careful pinning, she changed her mind.

“Just leave little strands loose over my ears,” she whispered when they were alone. “I do not have pretty ears. They are just like my pa’s.”

Virginia had never noticed, but as she pinned Jenny’s hair, she had to admit that Jenny’s ears were just a little too prominent to be attractive.

She let Jenny have her side curls, and as Jenny looked in the mirror, she seemed pleased with the result.

By the time the others arrived, Jenny acted as if she were the one who had come up with the idea of the upsweep. She tossed her red head until Virginia feared that the pins would fall out of place.

By the time Virginia’s father called that supper was ready, all were in attendance. Francine, though not old enough to join the Youth Group, was allowed to be a part of her sister’s celebration and took full advantage of the situation.

There was much laughter and good-natured teasing. Virginia caught Rodney giving a plate of food to pretty little Margie Warden. She remembered the words of her mother. Was Rodney announcing to the young girl that he was interested in beginning a relationship? But Rodney was a bit older even than Jamison, and Margie was—well—she was close to seventeen. Maybe her folks would allow her to be courted at sixteen years. Or maybe she and Rodney would just sort of make eyes at each other until they were old enough to really be serious.

Virginia was unwrapping a cob of hot corn when she felt someone brush against her elbow. “Let me give you a hand,” came a warm male voice that Virginia recognized at once as belonging to Jamison. Her first reaction was to cast a nervous glance toward Jenny. The girl was flirting outlandishly with Ken Troyer, every now and then casting a sideways glance toward Jamison in case he was watching.

Virginia’s next thought was to move slowly away, declining the kind offer. Then she remembered the words of her mother. They could be friends. It would be silly to refuse a friendship with Jamison just because Jenny had decided to set her cap for him. She smiled.

“Thank you,” she said, blowing on the fingers of one hand. “It’s hot.”

Jamison took the cob and finished the unwrapping. “Did you get butter?” he asked as he placed it on her plate.

“Not yet, but I will.”

“I’ll get it for you. Salt and pepper?”

“Just salt. I don’t much like pepper.”

He was soon back with the salt shaker.

To Virginia’s surprise he motioned to the log bench that had been set up for the occasion.

“There’s room there. Shall we sit?”

Virginia nodded.

“Nice that things have finally settled down so you can enjoy your birthday,” he commented as they sat and began work on the cold chicken and hot corn.

Virginia nodded again. She felt a little tongue-tied.

“Your grandfather is much better, I hear.”

Another nod.

“Bet you’re relieved.”

Virginia finally found her tongue. “We are. We feared that we might lose him, or that he’d be—you know—sort of … crippled.” Virginia wondered if Jamison considered a man with only one leg already crippled.

“And it’s so good to have Mama back home again, too,” Virginia went on.

“I don’t know how you managed it—with schooling and the cooking and all.”

Virginia grimaced. “Well, I’m glad it’s over, I can truth? fully state.”

They talked of other things. Virginia found herself forgetting her nervousness. It was easy to talk to Jamison. Her mother had been right. They
could
be friends.

“Want another cob?”

“No, thank you. I’d never have room for cake, and I probably should eat a piece of my own birthday cake.” They both laughed. “But you go ahead,” she said. “I know how much Rodney and Danny can put away. Papa says it’s like trying to fill up a sinkhole. No end to it.”