And it’s not only for Troo that I’m feeling the worst kind of worry there is. I haven’t told Dave out loud because I can hardly believe it myself, but I think I am beginning to love him at least half as much as I loved Daddy. I don’t think I can stand to lose both of them, which I probably will. I have been worried about this almost from the first day I found out he was my real father and that Mother wanted to marry him. On a picture-perfect afternoon in the not-too-distant future, they will stand toe-to-toe at the altar to commit the holy sacrament of marriage. The groom in his best blue suit and wing-tip shoes will slip that gold band on his bride-to-be’s finger and say:
I, David,
Take you, Helen,
To be my wife,
To have and to hold,
From this day forward,
As long as we both shall live.
It’s the last line of that vow that’s been tying my tummy into a knot.
Isn’t Dave concerned the same way I’ve been that if he marries Helen Riley Durand O’Malley Gustafson, he could be taking his life into his own hands? He’s a detective, for goodness sakes. He should’ve noticed by now what terrible fatal luck Mother has in the husband department. First off, Nell’s father died smelling ammonia. Then Daddy was killed in the car crash. And Hall will probably get electrocuted in the chair.
People are always saying that bad things happen in threes, but what if they’re wrong? What if bad things happen in fours?
Chapter Twenty
The Fourth of July is served up sizzling hot on a blue plate, sunny-side up.
Mother has been cracking “Independence Day” jokes all through breakfast. Troo is next to me at the table in her usual spot, plucking the streusel topping off the cream-filled coffee cake we get from Meurer’s Bakery on special occasions. My sister doesn’t suspect a thing. My leg is bouncing under the table and sweat is trickling down my sides. I can’t take this. Troo never thought that Mother and Dave would ever
Dave, who is dressed this morning in a red checkered shirt, takes a sip of his Sanka, checks the cat clock over the sink and says, “Gosh, it’s almost seven. I’ve got to get over to the park. Do you have something you’d like to tell the girls before we head over, dear?”
Mother plays along. She gives him a what-in-the-world-are-you-talking-about look and says, “Gee, I don’t think so.” She’s got on a scoop-neck navy blue top and a gold ribbon in her hair that makes her seem ready to set sail. “Oh, wait a sec.”
This is it. This is the moment I’ve been dreading. I prayed last night that Mother wouldn’t spring this life- changing news on my sister like she’s about to. That she would take her to Daddy’s grave late in the afternoon. Troo is always more willing to listen there. Mother could bring carnations for him and they could sit in the grass next to his headstone. She could tell her daughter how Daddy would want her to be happy. He forgave her for doing what she did with Dave, and so Troo should, too. And when the sky started turning the color of raspberries and oranges, my sister’s most favorite time of day, Mother could pick Troo’s hands up in hers, kiss her fingertips and tell her in her kindest of all voices how Dave and her are getting married.
But once again, God turns a deaf ear to me because Mother didn’t do any of that.
She says cutely, “How silly of me. I’m getting as absentminded as Bertha Galecki. Thank you for reminding me, honey, there
“Surprise! Father Mickey brought over the annulment papers last night! We’re getting married at the end of September after it cools off. I’m going to wear a tailored suit from Marshall Field’s and we’ll have a reception party and take our honeymoon in Miami Beach,” Mother says, like she can see it all now. “Lying on the sand under a starry night, those warm waves rolling over us…” She puts her head down on Dave’s shoulder. “We’ll be like Deborah Kerr and Burt Lancaster in
“No, you won’t! You will not!” Troo shoves her chair back so hard that it wenches my arm that I was using to hold her in place. This reminds me so much of the night out on the farm when Mother told us she was going to marry Hall. “You can’t! He said… he promised me that if-”
Mother thinks she’s being funny, but what she’s really doing is throwing a humble pie into my sister’s face when she starts humming the “Love and Marriage” song. The one that Troo’s been taunting her with every chance she gets.
“Trooper… you know what we can do… we can…” I’m trying to think of something to tell her, to give her, anything that is gonna make this all better, but she sweeps her breakfast off the table and barges out the screen door.
“Wait up!” I yell, but Dave stops me on my way to catch up with her.
“Let her be, Sally. She needs to blow off some steam,” he says, bending down and picking up the plate pieces.
“But… she’s gonna…” I don’t know what she’s gonna do exactly, but it won’t be good, it never is.
Dave says, “You can catch up with her at the park. She just needs a little time to take this all in.”
My neck skin crawls at the sound of his always-cool Danish voice, his everything-is-going-to-be-okay-just-you- wait-and-see way of looking at everything. His green eyes. My green eyes. His long legs like mine. Dave being sensitive just like me. That was so nice for a while. It made me feel like I belonged, that I was a pea in his pod, but all of a sudden, I don’t care about any of that. I want to shake Dave and shout,
“Wait’ll they get a load a this at the park today,” Mother says, holding up the ring so she can admire it from a distance. The sunlight coming through the kitchen window catches the diamond and a hundred tiny squares of dancing light surround us. It is just blinding.
This has gotta be the biggest Fourth party ever.
The grassy part of the park is jammed with kids of all sizes and ages. Everybody’s got a bike or coaster wagon or a baby carriage decorated to the nines. After the contests are over there will be games, and then everybody in the neighborhood will sit down together at picnic tables to eat hamburgers and hot dogs, kielbasa sausage, brat- wurst and Dixie cups of ice cream and as much free lemonade as they want.
Dave brought along a folding chair for Mother and set it at the edge of Jack Hoyt Woods next to Mrs. Callahan, who saved her a spot.
Dave pins on his judge’s badge and disappears into the crowd after giving me a chuck on the chin and Mother a kiss on the cheek. I would usually stick close to her, make sure that she had one of my lanyards around her neck so she could whistle for me to get her whatever she needs, but I’m not ready to forgive her yet for what she did to Troo. So I leave her there basking in the shade with her best friend, who right away starts salivating over the diamond engagement ring and says, “Jesus H. Christ… it’s… it’s the size of… you must give one helluva-”
Mother scolds, “Betty!” but she laughs louder than I have heard since Daddy was alive.
I’ve worked my way over to the edge of the crowd of jammed-together kids. I’m jumping up and down on my tiptoes, but I can’t see Troo, who I can usually spot easy because of her hair.
I would love to see Henry, too, but my boyfriend can’t come to the festivities because he could get stuck in the eye with a flag on a stick, which really happened once. Henry started bleeding and went white, and then a little blue
