Eight years ago, he’d flattered her in much the same way. He’d said she was different than the other high school girls and that he’d never known anyone like her. He claimed she was the sun, the moon and the stars, but those words disappeared just days after she told him she was pregnant. In the end, he’d left her with a broken heart and a memory that refused to be forgotten.
Suzanna took another sip of wine and leaned into the conversation, willing thoughts of him from her mind. Closer up she could see the depth of sensitivity in Gregg’s expression. His eyes were not just blue but tinged with shades of grey and green, fringed with lashes that were dark and feathery. When he spoke, she could hear the gentleness of his voice, the soft round tones that were as warm and comforting as a quilt. There was no reason to hold back. This wasn’t a repeat of eight years ago. This was a new life, and she was not Suzanna. She was Darla Jean Parker.
The sound of music came from the jukebox in the bar, a mix of oldies and current hits. The Shirelles began singing Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow, and a couple from across the room got up to dance. Gregg smiled and glanced toward the small dance floor.
“Shall we?”
She nodded, then stood and allowed him to lead her across the room. As they stepped onto the dance floor, he took her in his arms and she felt the warmth of his hand on her back as he gently brought her closer to his chest. Her heart skipped a beat, quickened, then slowed to a normal rhythm as she lowered her head onto his shoulder.
They danced to the next three songs; then a fourth record dropped into place, and the bitter memories returned. Wanted. Perry Como singing about a broken romance and how he wanted nothing more than the return of his lover. Suzanna remembered the song only too well. After Bobby had gone off to college, she’d listened to it night after night as she paced the floor with Annie in her arms.
The magic of the moment was gone.
“Let’s sit this one out,” she said, and they returned to the booth.
It was almost ten by the time they ate dinner and after midnight when they returned home. On the upstairs landing Gregg paused long enough to say he’d had a wonderful time, then he touched his hand to her shoulder, kissed her cheek, and said he hoped they could do it again. For a moment, she thought he was going to take her in his arms and kiss her full on the mouth, passionately, and without reservation. He didn’t, and as she climbed the stairs to the third floor, she felt an odd sense of disappointment.
Suzanna
The Harvest Festival
AFTER THAT NIGHT, SUZANNA COULD tell things had changed. Not right away, but over time. Evenings when they settled in front of the television, Ida sat in the big club chair and Annie squeezed in beside her, leaving her and Gregg to sit beside one another on the sofa. Before long Annie’s eyelids inevitably grew heavy, and after Suzanna had carried her off to bed Ida generally disappeared as well.
That’s when they’d find themselves alone. She’d move closer, and Gregg would wrap his arm around her shoulder. Once they began talking the evening flew by and when the eleven o’clock news came on, it always seemed too soon.
“The news already?” Gregg would say, and there was little she could do but nod.
“I’ve got an early day tomorrow,” she’d say, then snap off the television and they’d head up the stairs together. At the landing, they’d pause long enough for a hug and a quick kiss, then head off to their respective bedrooms—hers on the third floor, his down at the far end of the hall.
Sometimes they’d slip away for an early dinner date, a movie, or an evening with Phil and Ginger, but on weekends he always came up with something that included Annie. A visit to the pumpkin patch, a hayride, the high school football game, the church bazaar. The three of them would spend the day together, and then later, after she’d tucked Annie into bed, she’d come downstairs and spend the remainder of the evening with Gregg. While the weather was still warm enough, they’d sit on the front porch or stroll hand in hand for a number of blocks then return home and settle in front of the television.
When the Harvest Festival came to Barston, posters went up all over town and Gregg invited everyone to go.
“We’ll start early in the morning,” he said, “and make a day of it.”
Annie’s eyes lit up. “Will there be pony rides?”
“Pony rides, a carousel, animal shows, games, and lots more,” Gregg said. “I’ll bet you’ve never seen anything so spectacular.”
Annie was full of questions and he patiently answered each one, telling how the Ferris wheel was taller than a house, the cotton candy sweeter than sugar, and the lights brighter than a Christmas tree.
The house was filled with an excitement that soon became contagious, and after a fair bit of wheedling even Ida agreed to come along.
On Sunday morning, Annie was up before the sun and came running into Suzanna’s room.
“Wake up, Mama,” she shouted. “It’s time to go to the festival!”
Suzanna opened one sleepy eye and smiled. “It’s too early. The festival isn’t open yet.”
“But it will be soon,” Annie argued.
“It doesn’t open until ten o’clock.” Suzanna pointed to the clock on her nightstand. “It’s only five now.”
Annie’s face fell. “Oh.”
She folded the covers back to make way for Annie. “Climb in with me, and we’ll talk about all the
