Where The Heart Is Part 41

"Then what? Just a bad decision? Just a spur-of-the-moment thing?

Or one of those times when you were feeling low, needed a boost?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean . . . do you care for me at all?"

"Care? Of course I care. You're the best friend I've ever had, Forney."

"But do you care?"

"You delivered Americus."

"Do you care!"

"You taught me to learn, Forney. You showed me a new world.

You-"

"But do you love me, Novalee? Do you love me?"

"Forney, if I . . ."

She tried not to remember the way he held her after they made love . . . the way his lips felt on hers, the way his hands . . .

"You know, Forney, that I . . ."

She knew if she let herself remember, she couldn't tell him the lie he had to hear.

"Forney . . ."

She wouldn't be able to break his heart . . .

"No, Forney. I don't love you. Not in the way you need to be loved. Not in that way."

. . . and she wouldn't be able to break her own.

Chapter Thirty-Five.

F OR THE FIRST FEW WEEKS after Forney left, Novalee thought she might be going insane. OR THE FIRST FEW WEEKS after Forney left, Novalee thought she might be going insane.

She cried for no reason and in the strangest places. Once while she was pumping gas at the Texaco, she wept openly, didn't even try to hide her face. When she went to Parents Day and the second-grade teacher told her Americus was reading at eighth-grade level, Novalee sobbed uncontrollably and had to be led to her car. And one day when she was working in electronics, she saw-on three TV screens at once, Julia Child preparing orange almond bisque, and she cried so hard she couldn't finish her s.h.i.+ft.

But crying wasn't what upset her most. It was the fear of losing her memory that would cause her throat to tighten and her skin to go clammy. Her first indication that she had a problem came when she read a novel called An Episode of An Episode of Sparrows, Sparrows, read it all the way through, 328 read it all the way through, 328 before she realized she'd read it before. A few days later she signed a check and misspelled her name. Then at work she clocked in on somebody else's time card and twice gave customers too much change.

By then she'd already bought a book called Memory Magic Memory Magic and she'd started taking large doses of Vitamin E, which she had read was and she'd started taking large doses of Vitamin E, which she had read was "the brain vitamin." But she couldn't tell much of a difference. It seemed the harder she tried to concentrate, the more she forgot.

She'd find herself lost only blocks from the house. Dial the phone, but forget who she was calling. She'd go shopping, but buy things she didn't need. One day Lexie counted eighty-four carrots stuck in the crisper drawers of Novalee's refrigerator.

Her friends wanted to help, but they didn't know how. They couldn't ease the ache in her chest, the place that felt tender and bruised. They didn't know how to bring back the light to her eyes.

They couldn't rewrite her dreams or fix her hurt or help her repair her heart.

Americus, as devastated by Forney's absence as Novalee, turned quiet and strangely detached. She took in another stray, a lame rabbit she named Docker, and she alphabetized all her books. She learned to make root beer floats and she got Dixie Mullins to teach her how to sew on b.u.t.tons. She memorized the names of the Supreme Court Justices from John Jay to Mahlon Pitney before she began writing poems that she hid in a box under her bed. And in her prayers every night at bedtime, she asked G.o.d to bring Forney Hull back home.

If Novalee had only herself to worry about, she might have just gone to bed . . . crawled between the sheets, pulled a pillow over her head, and prayed for a deep, dreamless sleep. But she couldn't do that because her daughter needed her. So she forced herself up, Where the Heart Is 329.

faked an energy she didn't have, feigned a cheerfulness she couldn't feel and pretended Americus believed her performance.

She found places for them to go and things for them to do, but everywhere they went, there was Forney. He was the tall man under the umbrella running across the park . . . the thin guy who sat behind them at the movie. He was the figure in the stocking cap at the top of the ferris wheel . . . the lone skater at the rink . . . the face they saw through the window of the doll museum.

Then one evening at the mall in Fort Smith they heard Forney Hull paged over the intercom. They ran from one end of the mall to the other and arrived breathless at the security office where they met a boy too young to shave, a boy named Farley Hall.

Minutes later they crossed the parking lot trying to hide their tears, but when they crawled into the car, they gave up on being stoic. They cried and held each other, then went home and ate ice cream. Then they cried some more.

Forney's first letter came the very next day.

Dear Americus, Enclosed please find a study schedule I have made out for you. This schedule will take you through the rest of you. This schedule will take you through the rest of The Latin Primer The Latin Primer by the middle of August. It is imperative for by the middle of August. It is imperative for you to finish you to finish it before you start third grade. And don't forget, it before you start third grade. And don't forget, conjugation conjugation of verbs is only memory work. I love you. I of verbs is only memory work. I love you. I stopped at the stopped at the library in Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C., and stayed four library in Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C., and stayed four days. Did the days. Did the chocolate stain come out of your yellow dress? I chocolate stain come out of your yellow dress? I reread reread I Hear America Talking I Hear America Talking and now realize that you and now realize that you must read it, too. must read it, too.

The book is, unfortunately, out of print, but I have a used but I have a used bookstore mailing you a copy, which you bookstore mailing you a copy, which you should have by the should have by the 330 330 end of the week. You cannot know how much I miss you. much I miss you.

Americus, you must keep pus.h.i.+ng to get Latin added to the Latin added to the curriculum in your school Remember this: curriculum in your school Remember this: change is brought change is brought about by good purpose. I dreamed about you about by good purpose. I dreamed about you three times and three times and you were always smiling, but you had cat you were always smiling, but you had cat whiskers. Be sure to whiskers. Be sure to add add Word Origins and Their Romantic Stories Word Origins and Their Romantic Stories to your reading to your reading list. You will find it fascinating. list. You will find it fascinating.

Sincerely, Forney Hull Please tell your mother I extend my best wishes.

The letters to Americus kept coming, but with little regularity. She might get three on the same day, then wait a month for the next one.

Sometimes they would be wrinkled and stained, dated weeks ahead of when they were mailed-or weeks after. They arrived smelling of shoe polish or mustard or glue. One had a bit of brown lettuce inside.

Another came with a cracked green b.u.t.ton.

They were written on recycled paper, hotel stationery and the backs of letters addressed to "Occupant." One came on the back of a menu, another on a flier announcing a poetry reading.

They were postmarked from St. Louis, Was.h.i.+ngton, Indianapolis, Pittsburgh, Kansas City, Baltimore, Akron and Louisville-and in that order. Americus traced his route on the map he had tacked up in her room. But if he was working his way toward some destination, she couldn't tell it.

Mostly he wrote about books and study. He continued to add to Americus' reading list, which had grown to over six hundred t.i.tles.

331.

He said little about himself and nothing about Novalee, but the last line of every letter was always the same: "Please tell your mother I extend my best wishes."

It wasn't much, but it was something and Novalee and Americus would take whatever they could get. When Forney had left, they had lost a piece of their lives, something that couldn't be filled by photography or Latin, by movies or ferris wheels . . . not by root beer floats, not by lame rabbits and not by all their tears.

Novalee thought of trying to find him, driving to all the cities where he'd been. She even thought of putting a "Come Back" message in the papers and hiring a private detective to track him down.

"And what would you do if you found him, Novalee?" Lexie asked.

"Well . . ."

"Would you tell him you love him?"

"Oh . . ."

"Would you ask him to come back?"

"Lexie . . ."

"You couldn't, could you?"

Novalee took a deep breath, then shook her head. "No," she said.

"No, Lexie, I couldn't do that. Have him come back here and work in a factory? Flip burgers at Lita's Drive In?"

"Maybe he could get on at Wal-Mart?"

"No," Novalee answered too quickly.

"Oh. It's okay for you, but he's too good for it. Is that it?"

"That's not true."

"Here's the truth, Novalee. You never thought you deserved Forney. Never thought you were good enough."

"Listen to me, Lexie."

"No, you listen to me. I know your mother threw you to the wolves.

And I know what that a.s.shole w.i.l.l.y Jack did to you, but . . ."

332.

Novalee started to push away from the table, but Lexie reached over and took her hand.

"But look at what you've done, Novalee. Look what you've done for yourself. You have a wonderful child and a home. A family of friends who love you. You have a good job. You're a great photographer-an artist. You've read a whole library of books. You even go to college. You've got it all, honey. You've got it all."

"No, Lexie. I haven't got Forney. I haven't got him."

Four letters came for Americus on the same day, all postmarked Chicago. Novalee didn't think much about it at the time. She figured from the dates that Forney might have written the letters in four different cities, carried them with him for days and days, then mailed all four at the same time from Chicago. But two weeks later, another letter arrived with a Chicago postmark and that was a definite break in the pattern. Six days later, there was another and the next week, one more.

Novalee tried to talk herself out of what she was thinking, tried not to do what she did. She knew it was silly and wouldn't change the way she was feeling, but even as she dialed the phone, even as she started, she knew she wouldn't stop.

First, she called the Chicago Library, but they had no record of a Forney Hull. But she knew about Forney and books, knew he had to be around them if he was to breathe, so she called the Tulsa Library, then waited a week for the copies of pages from the Chicago phone book. Nine photocopied pages-from the Abraham Lincoln Book Shop to Waterstone's Book Sellers, Inc. She hoped she wouldn't have to go all the way to the end, and as it turned out, she didn't.

Forney answered on the first ring. "Chaucer's Book Store," he said.

333.

For an instant, she thought she could tell him, thought she might be able to say the words, but then it was gone, floating somewhere beyond that time and that place.

"Chaucer's," he said once more.

Moments later, the phone clicked . . . and Novalee knew they were disconnected.

Chapter Thirty-Six.

T HE TINY HOSPITAL CHAPEL had not been designed for weddings. The five short pews crowded together might be enough for grieving families and the room would probably hold anguished cla.s.s-mates or mournful friends. Novalee could imagine such quiet huddlings in the early hours of painful mornings, but the chapel might be too small to contain the joy of this wedding. HE TINY HOSPITAL CHAPEL had not been designed for weddings. The five short pews crowded together might be enough for grieving families and the room would probably hold anguished cla.s.s-mates or mournful friends. Novalee could imagine such quiet huddlings in the early hours of painful mornings, but the chapel might be too small to contain the joy of this wedding.

Seven giggling, squirming children were jammed into the front pew; smiling adults were wedged b.u.t.t-to-b.u.t.t in the others. Several nurses, doctors and aides, in uniform and on duty, squeezed in late and stood at the back, ready to run if they were paged.

The hospital chaplain, a pleasant-looking man with dyed t.i.tian hair, waited at the end of the aisle, his back to a stained-gla.s.s window.

At his elbow was the groom, a grinning and red-faced Leon Yoder.

When the door opened, everyone stood and turned to stare as Lexie stepped in and started down the aisle. She wore a slim suit the Where the Heart Is 335.

color of goldenrod and carried a corsage of seven white roses, one for each of her five children and Leon's two, all of them standing now at the front of the chapel-Brummett holding on to a renegade four-year-old, the twins with a waving toddler between them and Pauline, smoothing the hair of her youngest brother.

Novalee made a final adjustment to her camera and began shooting as Lexie, halfway down the aisle, flashed a radiant smile to Leon, the man about to become her husband.

They had met when Lexie had been able to go back to work at the hospital. Good nurse's aides were hard to come by, so she hadn't had any trouble getting her old job back.

Leon had been an aide, too, for nearly six years. But then he'd gone to nursing school and come back to County General, a registered nurse specializing in pediatrics.

He asked Lexie to go out one day while they were sharing a table in the hospital cafeteria. Even though she'd said no, he didn't give up.

"Sure, he seems seems nice," she had told Novalee. "But so did Roger Briscoe." nice," she had told Novalee. "But so did Roger Briscoe."

Weeks later, when Lexie finally agreed to go out with him, Leon took her fis.h.i.+ng. Lexie, her kids and his kids, too.

"Nine of us," Lexie said. "It was a real circus, Novalee. We had kids with worms in their hair. Fish hooks flying. Ants in our sandwiches.

And Leon's little girl, Carol Ann, she poured all the minnows in the lake."

"Did you have fun?"

"We had a great time. And Brummett caught a fish. A ba.s.s. Leon said it'd weigh three pounds. Thrilled Brummett to death. Of course, he couldn't show it. He'd grumbled all day about having to go and he acted mad the whole time. Until he caught that fish."