Chapter 37
Thirty-Seven
AT THE JOHNSON’S
When Goldie’s green eyes slowly opened, she had no idea how much time had passed.
She remembered that she had been kneeling in front of Eli Johnson’s grave when Bruno Carmichael came up behind her with a gun.
She recalled they spoke for a few seconds, then there was a flash of light, but after that—nothing.
Not finishing her thought, she threw the quilt off her body and hopped out of bed, wearing the same ivory slip she’d worn when she first awoke in the room. She ran over to the rounded mirror above the dresser and looked at her hair. It was dark brown, and there were no bullet holes in her head.
“Oh, Lord. I don’t know what’s goin’ on, but thank you! Thank you!”
Six minutes later, she was hurrying down the stairs to the bustling lobby of the hotel, wearing one of the three original dresses that she had found in her suitcase when she first arrived.
It was 10:00 a.m. on Christmas morning. The lobby with its nine-foot Christmas tree and candle sconce lighting on the walls was just the same as when she left.
In front of the tree were the same guitarist and violinist who had played in the lobby at Thanksgiving.
Maddie was behind the counter, wearing her glasses with the silver chain and a red cardigan sweater with Christmas trees embroidered on it. Seeing Goldie approach, she smiled.
“Merry Christmas, Goldie!” she greeted.
“Maddie!” Goldie called, hurrying over to her. “I, uh, I-I’m havin’ one of my short-term memory losses. When did I get here? When did I come back?”
The proprietor looked at her for a moment, then smiled acceptingly.
“You got in yesterday afternoon. By sheer coincidence, we had a last-minute cancellation, and your old room was available.”
“Did I say why I came back?”
“You told Dean that you wanted to settle here. Personally, we’re delighted.”
“I did?”
“You did. You said when you got back to Columbus, you tried to pick up with your life there, but ultimately decided to quit your job, come back here, and see who you could talk to about taking over the Sparkledove Wing.”
“I did?” she asked, smiling with moist eyes. “Brilliant! That’s great! Thanks, Maddie! I gotta go find Eli!”
She started to hurry across the lobby toward the front door.
“Goldie!” Maddie called.
The younger one stopped and turned. “Yeah?”
“Take a coat, dear,” she reminded.
Goldie looked down at herself and realized she needed one. “Oh, right,” she said, heading for the stairs again.
Within another five minutes, she was out on the street with her overcoat on and running down the middle of River Street toward the other end of town. As she ran, she was practically a female version of George Bailey in It’s A Wonderful Life, calling out to stores:
“Hello Clara’s Gifts… Hello Miller’s General Store… Hello Summit Grocers… Hello you ol’ Historical Society…”
Finally arriving at the sheriff’s office, she was disappointed to find it closed and Eli’s police cruiser nowhere in sight.
Turning to return to her hotel, she spotted Stu Frey’s truck at a stop sign on a cross street a block away.
Giving a loud whistle like a foreman on a loading dock, she caught Stu’s attention, and he waited.
So she ran down to where he was while he rolled down his window.
“Hey, Merry Christmas!” he called as she neared. “What’re you doing?”
“Looking for Eli,” she replied.
“He’s with his folks today in Brownsville. You want me to run you over there? It’s not that far.”
“Yeah. That’d be great. Thanks!” she replied, knowing their meeting wasn’t by chance.
She rounded the passenger side of the truck, climbed in, then Stu turned right onto River Street and followed it down, intending to turn right again in front of the Sparkledove Arms and head toward the highway.
“How come I’m here?” she asked, getting right to the point. “I thought you said I couldn’t come back.”
“What I said was: ‘Your decision is a one-way trip,’” he corrected. “That was true. You were always going to come back. It just took you a little while to figure that out.”
She squinted her eyes. “That sounds like a trick.”
“No. That sounds like a God who believes in first, second, and third chances for those who aren’t afraid to go after them.”
“So, you knew I’d want to come back?”
“I didn’t, but He did.”
Stu’s truck turned onto Highway 70, and the vehicle began to pick up speed.
“I love my family, Stu. Y’know? I always will. But I can’t do anything for ‘em, they’ve got their own lives, and they can’t do anything for me, either.”
“God helps those who help themselves,” he observed.
“Now that I’m here, is the other Goldie—I mean—will her soul be—”
“Her soul will be fine,” Stu assured. “I promise. Your family will be fine, too.”
She thought for a couple of moments.
“Are my efforts back in New York goin’ to help nail Markie? Are the diaries by themselves gonna be enough to convict?” She paused for a moment. “You know about the diaries, right? I mean, I’m assumin’ you do.”
“The diaries without your testimony won’t be enough to convict.
But Bruno Carmichael left your ID with your body in the Sparkledove cemetery, and that was sloppy.
Markie won’t be convicted because of the dairies, but your death begins a series of events where Markie loses his standing in the Lombardo family, and those events eventually cost him Kristen.
Don’t worry, Goldie. Justice will come to Markie Santina.
Bruno Carmichael, too, for that matter.”
She nodded, neither happy nor sad with the news, and looked out at the day. It was windless and overcast, as if it might snow.
“So, what do I do? How does this work?” she asked anxiously.
“Live your life,” he advised. “Just live your life. And realize I’m not going to reveal any big things to you about God, Jesus, soul swapping, or mysteries of the universe.
I can’t intervene in most things, either.
I’m not God, and there’s a natural order to things.
What you already know, what you’ve already been given, is a tremendous gift.
One that should last a lifetime. Don’t waste it, Goldie. ”
“I won’t,” she promised.
“Uh, and please don’t go reciting song lyrics to people by artists who aren’t even born yet. The containment is bothersome.”
She smiled. “I’ll talk to Clara about it.”
“Between the two of you, you could do a lot of good in town. You could become great friends and help champion some progressive thinking about all sorts of things. You two could help spread a lot of love, peace, and optimism.”
She looked at him, amused. “You sound like an old hippie.”
“How do you know I’m not?” he teased.
“S-so what’s goin’ on here? Did Harriette Noise recover?”
“Harriette’s going to be fine. The Banyans are still in jail, a trial date has just been set, and it could be the town will have a major new benefactor in Stephie Banyan. That is, if the tunnel you found out about has a vein as rich as Charles thought.”
Within another five minutes, they got off the highway and went into Brownsville, which was a town even smaller than Sparkledove.
They arrived at a modest but nicely painted blue-and-yellow two-story wooden house on a quiet street corner.
As Stu pulled over, Goldie saw Eli’s police car in the driveway.
“There you go,” he said.
She hesitated for a moment.
“What if he hates me for running out on him like Lila Hemmings?”
“Then it’s a long walk back,” Stu figured. “‘Cause I can’t hang around. It’s Christmas.”
She nodded while an idea came to Stu. He reached behind Goldie’s seat into the cab of his truck, opened a nearby ice chest behind her, pulled out a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with a string, and handed it to her.
“Here. Take this as a Christmas gift for Eli’s mom.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“Two ribeye steaks.”
She took the package and looked at it.
“You’re an angel. You couldn’t have pulled out a nice bottle of Mondavi?”
“You don’t want ‘em? Give ‘em back,” he said, holding out a hand.
“No… I’ll take ‘em… thanks.”
“Steaks are expensive these days,” he reminded. “It’s a nice gift.”
She nodded again, repeated her thanks, then climbed out of the truck as some snowflakes began to descend. She walked up a short sidewalk, then up a few steps to the front porch. As Stu drove away, she knocked.
A few seconds later, Mary Louise, Eli’s mom, opened the door wearing her best dress.
“Goldie,” she exclaimed. “W-well, my goodness.”
“Hi, Mary Louise,” she said. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas. I thought you went back to Columbus?”
“Yeah. I did, but—”
The appearance of Eli in the foyer stopped her in mid-sentence. He was wearing a suit and tie. The same one he’d worn at the community dance.
“Howdy,” she said.
“Uh, howdy,” he answered, surprised to see her.
There was an awkward moment of silence, then Mary Louise said, “Please, come in.”
“Thanks,” Goldie replied.
As soon as she stepped into the house, two more people came into the living room that was immediately off the foyer. One was Eli’s sister, Dinah, also wearing a dress, and Eli’s dad, who, like his son, was wearing a suit and tie.
“Here, let me take your coat,” Mary Louise offered.
Goldie set her wrapped package on top of a cabinet radio just inside the living room that was playing the Tommy Dorsey Orchestra’s version of “March of the Toys,” then slipped off her coat.
In a corner of the living room was a lit Christmas tree decorated with glass bulbs, but also trimmed with rows of strung popcorn and cranberries.
Opened presents were also underneath it.
“Uh, this is my sister, Dinah,” Eli introduced. “And my dad, Seymour.”
Goldie shook hands with both of them while Mary Louise hung up Goldie’s coat in the front closet. When she was finished, the visitor retrieved the package from the radio and offered it to her.
“Stu Frey gave me a ride over here and thought you might enjoy these,” she said, being honest. “They’re two ribeye steaks. I would’ve brought somethin’ as well, but to tell you the truth, my return to Colorado was very spur of the moment.”
“Well, I’m glad you did,” Seymour said. “It gives me the chance to say how grateful people are about what you discovered about Charles and Peter Banyan. Lord only knows what other kind of damage they could’ve done in Sparkledove.”
“Very true,” Mary Louise concurred. “And thank you,” she said, referring to the steaks.
“We just got back from church. Dinah’s boyfriend will be coming over a little later for dinner, and you’ll stay, too, of course.”
“Well, I…”
“Yes, that’d be great,” Dinah encouraged.
“Yes, please stay,” Seymour echoed.
“Yeah,” Eli agreed. “Then, maybe you’ll tell me what in the Sam Hill you’re doing here.”
Everyone looked at Goldie for an explanation. She emboldened herself, then looked at Eli’s father.
“Seymour, somebody told me that I could build a new life in Sparkledove, and it could be better than my life in Columbus. Somebody also told me I might be able to take over The Wing as its new Editor-In-Chief. Then, that somebody kissed me and used his tongue. Now, wouldn’t you say that was practically a proposal?
And if that somebody in question is surprised that I’d turn up on Christmas morning, then, wouldn’t you say he was a cad?
That he was cavalierly playing with my affections? Toying with my heart?”
Seymour looked at Eli, then at Mary Louise, then back to Goldie, who had an impish twinkle in her eye.
“Uh, w-well,” he stammered.
“I certainly would,” Dinah said, liking Goldie immediately and taking her side.
Mary Louise looked at her son. “Did you do all that?”
Eli’s face turned red as he fiddled with the knot of his necktie. “W-w-well—yeah—but there was lots of other stuff in between.”
Mary Louise suddenly made some decisions.
“Seymour, go set another place at the table. Dinah, get some more potatoes from the pantry for mashing. I’m going to put these steaks away and get going on some extra cranberry sauce.”
Mary Louise, Dinah, and Seymour all left the living room to attend to their various tasks with subtle smiles. Eli looked at Goldie with his blue eyes shining. Her surprise appearance was the best Christmas present he could’ve ever imagined, and she felt exactly the same way.
“You, eh, sure you want to stay?” he asked in his slow cowboy way.
“Positive,” she answered. Then, she hesitated. “Don’t you want me to?”
“Oh, I absolutely do,” he confirmed. “But you know, there are a lot of food shortages going on and, in these parts, that includes turkeys.”
“So, what’s your mom makin’?” she asked.
“Pot roast,” he replied.