The Christmas Portrait (16 page)

“So, tell me.”

“No, not yet.”

I was glad to hear Mrs. Peterson calling Emily from the bottom of the stairs. “Come on, Emily. We have things to do.”

Emily turned around prissy-like with her proper ponytail swinging. “Bye. I'll call you later, Kate.”

Somebody taught Laramie well because even after Emily was so snippety, Laramie still said, “Thank you very much for the cookies, Emily. That was really sweet of you.”

I wanted to slam the door when Emily walked out, but I didn't. “I'm sorry about Emily. She isn't always so . . .” I couldn't even think of a word to say. I just squinted my eyes and shook my head. “Maybe if she didn't wear that ponytail so tight her nose wouldn't be stuck up in the air so high.”

“That's okay. Emily's your friend, but I know she doesn't like me.”

I mocked Emily in her whiny voice. “My mom's taking me to a special tearoom for lunch today. It's girls' day out.” I looked back at Laramie. “What kind of friend says that when she knows my mama's in heaven and your mom is gone?”

“Eat your cookie, Kate. Emily's just a snotty-nosed brat, and if I felt like it . . .” Laramie stopped talking for a second, then she said, “But she was really nice to bring the cookies.”

I knew Laramie was working at using her manners. “Emily just doesn't like your swearing and stuff,” I explained. “But she just doesn't understand the swearing's not who you are 'cause you can be really nice.”

“Okay, then I'll try to watch my mouth,” Laramie said matter-of-factly. “My mom didn't let me swear, but my dad swears and he never says anything about me swearing. But I won't swear at your house.”

“That's good, 'cause swearing would make Aunt Susannah Hope break out in hives, and Granny just might do something with a washrag and soap that you'd remember for a long time.” I laughed a little when I said that.

Laramie brushed the cookie crumbs off the comforter into her hand and threw them in the wastebasket. “Okay, I got it, Kate. I'll do like Mom taught me.”

After that we just listened to music and ate cookies and talked until I heard Uncle Luke and Chesler come in. I switched off the radio. “Let's go downstairs. It's getting close to lunchtime.”

Daddy was putting food on the table. Granny turned around from the stove. “Well, hello, Laramie, I'm Kate's granny. You can just call me Granny Grace. Everybody else does.”

“Yes, ma'am. Kate told me about how you live on a farm. We used to visit my grandma when she lived on a farm.”

Uncle Luke came down the stairs with my brother over his shoulder and a tube of ointment in his hand. He put Chesler down and opened the tube. “It won't hurt nearly as bad as scraping your chin did when you fell on the ice.”

Granny Grace always said that Chesler was just an accident waiting to happen. And wouldn't you know it, the only place on Chesler's body not covered by three layers of wool was where he got hurt skating? Uncle Luke finished his doctor's routine, and I tugged on his shirt. “Uncle Luke, this is Laramie. And Laramie? This is my uncle Luke and my little brother, Chesler.”

“Very pleased to meet you, Laramie. I'd shake your hand, but I don't think you'd like this slimy medicine.” Uncle Luke headed for the sink to wash his hands.

Chesler just stood there like he'd never seen a girl before, and Uncle Luke walked over and patted her on the shoulder. Then he asked, “Hey, Laramie, would you do me a favor?”

She looked real surprised. “Sure. I'll try.”

“Sit down here. I need to practice my doctoring. Would you allow me to look at your stitches?”

“If you want to.”

He pulled out a chair from the table for her, and he was careful removing the bandages. “Hey man, this is beautiful. Whoever stitched you up must have taken embroidery lessons from Granny Grace. Anybody want to see?”

“Not me.” I backed away a little.

But Chesler had to poke his nose in. “I do, I do. I never saw stitches before. Not in somebody's face.”

I pinched him so he wouldn't say something dumb. But it didn't do any good.

“Your face looks like Kate's rag doll.” I pinched him again but he barely flinched.

Granny kept busy, but Daddy took a look. “Healing nicely, and the swelling's gone down.”

Laramie just sat there real still and quiet. I think our family was a big change for her, but everybody fussed over her like she was a princess just arrived from some place special. I was glad.

“Okay, let's eat. Everybody grab a chair, and Laramie, you sit over there next to Kate, and Chesler, you sit on the other side of Laramie.” Granny Grace was directing traffic again.

Chesler stood in his tracks. “But she's a . . . she's a . . .”

“She's a what, Chesler?” Uncle Luke was pinching Chesler's ear.

“Uh . . . a girl.”

“Yeah, and a pretty one. Just practice. One of these days you'll like sitting by a pretty girl.”

“You like to sit by Miss Applegate?”

“Yeah, I do. Sit down, before I pinch both of your ears.”

I never was happier to see a big dish of Granny's homemade-from-scratch, three-cheese macaroni. Laramie looked just as happy as me, because she took two big helpings.

After lunch I didn't have to help with the dishes. The rest of the day we just did things in my room. Talking and listening. That was how you learned about somebody. You asked a lot of questions, and you listened to what they said. Sometimes Laramie would use a bad word, and then she'd stop like someone told her it was a bad word, and then she'd say something nice again. She told me about the night she ran away.

“Were you scared in that shed at school?”

“Sorta. It was really cold and dark in there, but I figured I was better off in that shed than I was if I went back home, at least for a while. I was really glad when it got daylight, but I still didn't come out of the shed. My head was hurting, and I kept going back to sleep. And when I wasn't sleeping, I was thinking.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“I was thinking about what to do. I didn't have any money, so I couldn't go to my aunt's on the bus. She lives a long ways away. I thought about breaking into the motorcycle shop to get some money, but I was afraid my dad would be there. I didn't know anybody else knew I was gone, let alone that the whole town was looking for me.”

Then she got real quiet and got that look in her eyes like Mama used to get sometimes when her mind went somewhere else and she didn't want to talk anymore.

I waited for a little while, and then I asked her if she wanted to do an art project. She liked that idea. And when we got tired of that, we fixed each other's hair. I was careful with hers because of her stitches and stuff. I liked having her around.

Daddy let us stay up late, and I gave Laramie one of my gowns to sleep in. And I gave her a pair of socks to keep her feet warm. It had stopped snowing, and when I turned out the light, the moon was shining bright through the window. Laramie was curled up like a cat on the far side of my double bed, but I knew she wasn't asleep.

I got into bed, and for a little while we both just lay there, breathing. When the dark was warm and quiet, I said, “When do you miss your mama the most?”

Laramie rolled over on her back. “I don't know. I just miss her all the time. What about you?”

“I think I miss Mama mostly at bedtime. We just had these things we did every night, prayers and smiley faces and talking about the day. I miss that, and I miss knowing she's just down the hall.”

“Yeah, me too. Daddy told me yesterday that she's okay and he hoped she was coming home, but I don't know.” Laramie paused. “Can I tell you a secret, Kate?”

“Sure. I won't tell a soul.” I turned over on my back too and just watched the shadows of the tree limbs on the ceiling.

“Before she went away, I think Mom came into my room one night and told me she was going away for a little while, but she'd be back.”

“For real?”

“Yeah, for real, I think. But I don't know for sure. Sometimes I think it really happened, but sometimes I think I was just dreaming or wishing it so.”

“I hope it's for real.” I got quiet for a minute. “Can I tell you a secret too?”

“You want to tell me a secret? Nobody in our class ever told me a secret.”

“Yeah, this is a big secret. I made my mama a Christmas present.”

“That's your secret, but Emily knows?”

“Well, Emily sort of knows. I mean, she knows about the present and all, but she doesn't know my real, real secret. I've been trying to figure out how to get Mama's present to heaven. I asked Pastor Simmons and Uncle Luke and Miss Applegate, and nobody knows, but I finally figured it out.” I told Laramie what I figured out and what I was planning to do.

She promised not to tell anyone. I knew she wouldn't. I wanted to tell her my other two secrets, about Uncle Luke asking Miss Applegate to marry him and about my Aunt Susannah Hope being sick, but I figured one secret on the first night was enough.

We stopped talking, and the room was real quiet for a little while. “Good night, Laramie.”

“G'night, Kate.” Then she rolled over facing the wall. “Kate?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You think the redbird's in the cedar tree?”

“I don't know because it's been snowing, but I know she's out there somewhere. I just hope she's warm.”

C
HAPTER
F
IFTEEN

D
ADDY HAD TO
work all day Thursday, so Granny Grace came over to stay with us. Laramie had been with us only a day, but I already knew I liked having her around. With Mama gone and all, I didn't have a woman around much, except when my aunt or granny visited. But Laramie was my age, and she liked the things I liked, and I was teaching her how to draw. I asked Daddy if I could get a sketchbook and pencils for Laramie for Christmas. I even told Daddy I wanted to pay for it with my own saved-up allowance.

Thursday night after supper Miss Lisa came over, and Uncle Don and Aunt Susannah Hope and Granny Grace joined us too. We all bundled up and headed for church to do some Christmas caroling. Miss Applegate had brought red Santa hats for everybody to wear, including Laramie.

Pastor Simmons met us at the door. “Well looka here. We have the whole O'Donnell and Harding clan. And here's Miss Laramie. Now don't you look like a cheerful bunch?”

Granny Grace stepped right up. “That's right, we're here to spread the cheer!”

About that time I saw a real pretty lady walk up next to the pastor. She was kind of tall, slim, and tan, and she had blonde hair like Miss Lisa's. I didn't remember seeing her before.

Pastor Simmons took the cup of coffee from her. “You may remember my sister, Evie. She visits from time to time. Sis, these are some of my favorite folks.” Then he introduced everyone by name, and she shook everybody's hand.

Aunt Susannah Hope was last. “It's good to see you again, Evie. Are you here to spend the holidays with your brother?”

“Thank you. And yes, I'm here for Christmas. Last year convinced me there was no more beautiful place to spend Christmas than in Cedar Falls. Not much snow where I live.” She smiled; she could have starred in a tooth paste commercial.

Granny Grace chimed in. “And where is that?”

“Right now, I'm living in South Florida.”

“Yes, my sister, the artist gypsy bird. I call her that because she mostly lights places. I'm not sure she lives anywhere. I'm working on her to light here for a spell.”

I couldn't hold it any longer. “You're an artist?”

“Yes. I'm a photojournalist, and I paint a little.”

“What is a photojournalist?”

“I travel around the world taking pictures and writing stories about what I see. And I hope that what I see and capture in my photographs might cause some people to look at the world differently.”

The pastor looked down at her. “Yes, I keep telling her she could fly right back to Cedar Falls after her travels and open her studio right here. I think I'm making a little headway.”

I never met anybody like Evie before. “Did you take the pictures in the pastor's office? Where do you go and what do you see? Could I see some of your pictures? And do you have lots of cameras?”

She put her pointing finger square in the middle of my forehead. “And you, my new little friend, you have a very inquisitive mind. Let's see. Yes, I took the pictures in Fletcher's office, and yes, I do have lots of cameras. I travel mostly to Central and South America, and I see far more than I have time to tell you about right now. So maybe I can show you what I see in my photographs. We can talk about that later.”

Before anybody could say anything else, I said it. It just popped right out of my mouth like Chesler used to squirt out his pacifier. “That's what I want to be when I grow up—an artist and a photographer.” I never even thought about it before because I didn't know I could be one.

“Fantastic. It's a great life doing what you love and capturing images that stir people to think.” Miss Evie smiled at me.

Things were really getting interesting when Mrs. Crouch, she's our organist, stopped everything. She divided us into caroling groups. Our whole family and the Hancocks were supposed to go to the Cedar Falls Care Home and walk up and down the halls singing Christmas carols. Mrs. Crouch gave us battery-operated candles to carry while we sang. That was good because if the candles were real, Chesler would probably set something on fire.

I saw the artist standing next to Pastor Simmons. “Daddy, can we ask the pastor's sister to go with us?” “Well, don't you think she might want to go with her brother and his family? She really doesn't know us.”

“Yeah, but we could ask her. She could get to know us.”