Chapter 55
FIFTY-FIVE
“My first best friend was the boy next door.
My last best friend was a college student who made questionable fashion choices.
I was very lucky.”
—excerpt from the unpublished memoir,
Darling, I Must Say by Gloria Hayes
When Hallie woke up, I was sitting at the kitchen table and Abe was making pancakes (with chocolate chips). Sleepy-eyed and messy-headed, she gave her father a hug before she even noticed me.
“Iris.” She shuffled over and hugged me. “Are you here because it’s pageant day?”
I groaned. How did I forget what today was? Leave it to Gloria to die on this of all days. I’d like nothing more than to forget the stupid pageant, go home, and cry all day but I couldn’t. I could hear Gloria’s voice telling me, “Don’t be ridiculous, the show must go on.”
“Um.” My gaze met Abe’s over her head in a silent question. He nodded. “Not exactly. I have some sad news.” I took her hands in mine. How exactly do you tell a kid this? When Grammie died, I’d been a teenager. I’d known what was coming. “Gloria passed away last night.”
Hallie’s face fell and she threw herself into my arms again. Her shoulders shook as she cried, hiding her face in my shirt. “I-I didn’t want her to d-die.”
“I know. Me neither,” I said, my voice thick with emotion.
Abe knelt beside us and put a hand on Hallie’s back. “Come here, Hal.”
Hallie turned and launched herself into his arms and cried harder. Abe soothed her with quiet words and soon her sobs turned to whimpers. She sat back and hiccupped. “She told me she was going to die soon.”
“She did?”
Hallie nodded and took the tissue I handed her. “She said I had to be strong for Iris because she’s so delicate.”
I smiled despite the tears. “She would say that.”
She sniffled. “I can’t stop crying.”
Abe put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not weak to miss someone. It’s okay to be sad and cry.”
“I know. Gloria said it was okay to cry but only the pretty crying.” She looked up at her dad, her face solemn. “She said that Iris would probably be an ugly crier though.”
The laugh caught me by surprise and once I started, I couldn’t stop. “I’m really going to miss her.”
“Me, too,” Hallie said. “Are we still going to do the pageant?”
“Oh, we have to. We don’t want to disappoint Gloria, do we?”
The high school football stadium was buzzing by the time Abe dropped Hallie and me off to get ready. There were three divisions in the pageant. The first group, the Tiny Tot Miss Two Harts, were all under two years old. Their event was already in full swing.
Hallie and I stopped to watch the orchestrated chaos of directing babies and toddlers. News flash: it wasn’t going well. But most people didn’t care. In their tiny dresses and spiky ponytails, this group was fun to watch.
The Little Miss division, the one Hallie was part of, was scheduled to start at three and the main event was at seven tonight. It would be a very long (and potentially embarrassing) day. We dragged all our things into the men’s locker room, which had been repurposed as our “dressing room.”
Yessica yelled my name when she saw us. “Over here, you two. I saved you spots.”
I dumped our stuff in front of a row of gym lockers and sat heavily on the bench in front of them. “Thanks.”
“What’s with the sunglasses?”
I slid them off. Yessica’s eyes widened. I’d done my best to offset the effects of crying my eyes out for the last eight hours but it turned out that Gloria was correct; I was an ugly crier.
“Yikes. Who died?”
She started to snicker at her own joke but the look on my face must have said what my mouth wasn’t. She dropped on the bench next to me. “You’re serious? Someone died?”
“Gloria died,” Hallie said, her bottom lip quivering.
“Your friend at the nursing home?” She hugged me. “I’m so sorry. Are you sure you feel up to all this today?”
“This is exactly where I’m supposed to be.” I gave them a shaky smile.
After unpacking all our things—shoes, outfits, magic tricks—and hanging up what we could, the three of us ventured out in the festival to look around and find some lunch, mostly to try to distract ourselves from the trainwreck ahead.
Ali had, as always, gone all out for the festival.
Patriotic streamers lined the shop awning on Main Street and floral arrangements were tied to each of the lamp posts.
There was live music at a small stage set up at Legacy Park.
An apple pie contest was being judged as we walked by.
At the soccer fields by the high school, there were potato sack races and tug o’ war battles.
The streets were already crowded and it was early still.
The fireworks wouldn’t start until nine tonight.
On our way back to the stadium, someone called my name behind me. I turned to find Kathy from Shady Cove and she wasn’t alone. Several residents were with her—Jonathan, Elizabeth, Mary, and more.
“What are you all doing here?”
“You and our Hallie are in the pageant,” Mary said. “Of course we’d be here to support you.”
“I was tricked. I was told we were getting pie,” Jonathan said, frowning.
Elizabeth elbowed him. “Really? It was your idea to come to the pageant.”
“Woman,” he sputtered, his cheeks turning red. “It was not.”
“Yes, it was. You insisted on it.” Elizabeth turned to me and in a rare moment of gentleness, she took one of my hands in hers. “I’m so sorry about Gloria. We loved her very much. We know she’s not here”—her voice hitched—“but we’re here in her place.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I said. Dang it, the tears were building again.
“You don’t have to say a word, dear.” Mary patted my arm. “Come here, Hallie, I want to give you a good luck hug.”
“They insisted on coming to support you,” Kathy said.
“Thank you for making it happen.”
“Well, it was selfish on my part. I wanted to come and watch, too.” She put a hand on my arm.
“Listen, I know this isn’t the right time at all but when you’re feeling up to it, will you come and see me?
Gloria told me… Well, she told me you aren’t going off to school in the fall and if you’re going to be around, I thought you might be interested in the activities director position at Shady Cove.
It’s only part time but, well, the residents love you and I thought…
Just come see me when you’re ready. We can talk about it more. ”
The more she talked, the more excitement buzzed through me until it felt like my insides were vibrating. Impulsively, I gave her a hug. “I would love that.”
“Perfect.” She smiled widely. “No rush. When you feel up to it.”
Jonathan, at that moment, had reached his daily quota of patience. “Can I get my pie now?”