As Time Goes By, Page 2

  “I can never beat you in checkers, Bobbie,” Angie Stallsworth complained as Bobbie jumped Angie’s last two checkers and still had four more of her own on the board.

  “That’s all right, Angie, you can beat me in spelling any day of the week.”

  Best friends, the girls were sitting at the Bradford kitchen table on Monday afternoon. School had only been out a month and they were already restless for something to do. Angie had come over wanting Bobbie to go for a walk along the creek, but Bobbie’s mother was working and she had strict orders to stay home with her younger brother Troy.

  “What’ll we do now?” Angie asked.

  “Wel-l-l-l,” Bobbie drew out the word as she rose silently from the table. “We could head in to town and rob the bank. Gottcha!” Bobbie flung the half-closed door wide open to capture her brother, who was crouched there listening to the girls’ conversation.

  “Troy Bradford, what were you doing back there?” Bobbie had her brother by the collar and stood looking down at him like an enraged warrior. She let go when she saw how red his face was. He scowled at her for embarrassing him. They apologized to each other and Bobbie spoke quietly.

  “Why don’t you get a cookie from the tin?”

  “Thanks.” Troy retrieved his cookie and glanced at Angie before going outside. Bobbie felt sorry for him. She knew he had a crush on Angie. ‘But then who wouldn’t?’ Bobbie thought with a twinge of envy.

  Angie was adorable with her dark curly hair and big dark eyes. She had a round little chin and a bright smile. And she was developing a figure—something Roberta Jean Bradford was sure would never happen in her own body.

  Her mother kept reminding her that she was not yet 15, but Bobbie knew girls who were younger and who had more of a figure than she did. So the words were no comfort.

  “Want to bake cookies?” Bobbie suggested.

  “It’s too hot.”

  “I guess it is.”

  “I never thought I’d ever say this, but I miss school.”

  “Me too.” Bobbie agreed. “I miss seeing all the other kids.”

  “All the other kids?” Angie questioned her. “Or just one in particular?”

  “Did you see that he was sitting with Sylvia on Sunday?”

  “Yeah,” Angie said with disgust. “Some guys. I mean, so what if she does have a great face and figure and gets good marks in school? What else has she got?”

  Bobbie dissolved into giggles at the comical look on Angie’s face. But both girls sobered a moment later; they knew what the other girl didn’t have: Sylvia Weber was not a nice person. On more than one occasion Angie or Bobbie had been at the receiving end of her vicious tongue.

  “I thought Jeff liked Sylvia,” Bobbie commented suddenly.

  “I thought so too. At least Jeff and Sylvia deserve each other. He’s sorta stuck on himself.”

  “I’ve noticed.” Bobbie agreed quietly. She didn’t like to criticize people, and in fact she went out of her way to say nice things about even the hardest to redeem. “But Jeff is one of the best-looking guys in school.”

  “That’s true. But never forget Bob—all men are fickle.”

  The girls dissolved once again into shrieks of laughter because Angie herself was in love with a new boy every week.

  The afternoon went by in a lazy fashion and the girls ended up playing a game with Troy and having a great time. They parted company just before supper and made plans to meet downtown the next day to browse in the store windows. But Angie was back at the Bradfords’ an hour or so before bedtime.

  “Hello, Mr. Bradford,” Angie said breathlessly when Bobbie’s father opened the door. “I need to see Bobbie; can she come out for a minute?”

  Bobbie appeared at her father’s elbow and Angie nearly dragged her from the house.

  “What is the matter with you, Ang?” Bobbie laughed as she was pulled along. Angie stopped under the tree in the yard.

  “The church is having an outing at the lagoon and Deacon Briggs just asked me!”

  The girls stared at each other for a full five seconds before they screamed in unison and threw their arms around each other.

  “I think he’s liked you for a long time.”

  “You do?” Angie’s face flushed with pleasure.

  “Tell me everything,” Bobbie pleaded, and her friend was more than willing to comply.

  “We were just finishing supper when he knocked on the door and asked for me. My father made him sit for a few minutes in the parlor and I know he was embarrassed. But anyway, we sat on our front porch and he asked if I’d heard there was going to be a boat outing for the whole church.”

  “The whole church?” Bobbie cut in.

  “Yeah, a week from Sunday. But the young people are going early to have a picnic and then boating when everyone arrives.”

  “Oh, Angie,” Bobbie said. “I’m so happy for you. Deacon is one of the nicest boys at church.”

  “I think so too. He’s not stuck on himself, either.”

  The girls chattered until it was nearly dark and Angie had to go or face trouble at home. Bobbie went back into the house in a dreamy state. Angie’s first date. . . . The next best thing to having it happen to you was having it happen to your best friend . . . and with Deacon, too, who was so tall and quiet.

  Bobbie took great delight in telling her brother about the boat outing, since he usually knew things ahead of her. But when she climbed into bed a short while later her mood wasn’t quite so buoyant.

  She carefully repeated her nighttime ritual of placing her glasses on the corner of her nightstand. That way she knew where they were even if she was half-asleep. When Bobbie was ten she had once left them on the plant stand in the hall. The glasses afforded her depth perception which she had sorely missed that morning, and she ended up falling all the way down the stairs.

  Bobbie rubbed her nose where the spectacles had sat. It was a relief to remove them, since they had a tendency to pinch.

  ‘I wonder if someone will ask me on a date when I’m 15,’ Bobbie wondered as sleep began to crowd in upon her. She fell into slumber visualizing the clothes in Angie’s closet so she could tell her tomorrow what she should wear on her date.

  three

  The boat outing was only four days away when Jeff rode into the Bradfords’ yard. They had an old house that they had painted and kept up. The swing that hung from the tree in the yard was just a piece of wood with a rope knotted in the middle.

  Troy moved lazily on that swing, pushing himself in circles with one bare toe. As though embarrassed at being caught on the swing at his age, he jumped down the moment he saw Jeff.

  “Hi, Troy. Is Bobbie around?”

  “In the kitchen.”

  Jeff tied the horse’s reins to a tree limb and moved toward the house in his long-legged stride. His knock on the door went unanswered, and for an instant he entertained the idea of leaving without seeing Bobbie.

  “Just go in,” Troy called from where he had sat down under the tree. Jeff glanced at the younger boy, hesitated, and opened the door. He found himself in the living room.

  “Bobbie.” His voice was hesitant and soft.

  “Bobbie.” Louder this time. Jeff heard someone move in the next room, and then Bobbie came out drying her hands on a towel.

  “Well, hello, Jeff, how are you?” Bobbie greeted him with natural ease, smiling the smile that came so easily for her.

  “I’m fine, thank you.” Jeff sounded too formal, even to his own ears.

  “My folks aren’t here right now, but I can give them a message if you’d like.” It never once occurred to Bobbie that Jeff was there to see her. She also knew that Troy was in the yard, and that if Jeff had wanted him he would never have come in the house. Her parents were the only ones left.

  “I’m not here to see your folks.”

  “Oh.” Bobbie took a moment to absorb this. “Why don’t you come in to the kitchen? I’ve got cookies ready to come out of the oven.” Bobbie turned and
walked away, taking for granted that Jeff would follow.

  Jeff took a chair at the kitchen table and glanced around the Bradfords’ kitchen. It was spacious and sparkling clean, but Jeff didn’t really notice amid his reluctance to be there. A moment later Bobbie set a hot pan of cookies on the table.

  “Help yourself, Jeff. I’ll get you something to drink.”

  Jeff thought the cookies might take his mind off the inevitable, so he picked one up and bit into it. It was delicious.

  “I hope you like cider,” Bobbie said as she set a cup before her guest and took a seat.

  A moment passed before Jeff saw that Bobbie was waiting peacefully for him to state his business. He said the first thing that came to mind.

  “These cookies are good.” He sounded so surprised that Bobbie smiled.

  “Thank you. Have as many as you like.”

  “Thanks.” Jeff ate a few more.

  Bobbie continued to wait quietly, but began to feel distinctly uncomfortable. She didn’t really know Jeff Taylor and couldn’t think for the life of her why he would come to see her. He suddenly cleared his throat and spoke.

  “I suppose you’ve heard about the outing at the lagoon.”

  “Yes, I heard.”

  “Well, I came by today to ask you if you’d like to go with me.”

  Jeff watched the eyes behind those glasses blink at him even as he prayed she’d say no. It wasn’t that he found her repulsive, because Deacon was right, she was very nice. But he was sure that if Sylvia saw him with Bobbie he would never hear the end of it—not to mention the fact that he didn’t want to do anything to ruin the fragile thread upon which their relationship hung.

  “I’d like that, Jeff. Thank you for asking me.”

  “Sure.”

  “Is there anything I can bring?” Jeff, becoming more relaxed by the second, bit into another cookie before he answered.

  “No, I don’t think so. Oh, I’ll be picking you up early. You see, we’re going to have a picnic and some games, then everyone else will come at 4:00 and we’ll all go boating.”

  “That sounds fine. If you find out I need to bring something, just let me know.”

  “Okay.” Jeff stood on that word and reached for another cookie. “These are really very good.”

  “I’m glad you think so. I was a little worried because you only ate seven of them.”

  Jeff’s head whipped back as he was walking away from her. She was actually teasing him! Her eyes sparkled with mirth and a small smile played around the corners of her mouth.

  If Jeff had taken the time to really look, he would have noticed the beautiful green color of Bobbie’s eyes and how given her pretty mouth was to smiling.

  Jeff’s own mouth raised in a small smile and he thanked Bobbie for the cider and cookies.

  “I’ll see you Sunday,” Bobbie called to him as he rode out of the yard. Jeff waved and Bobbie walked back into the kitchen and plopped into a chair.

  “Jeffrey Taylor just invited me out.” Bobbie hoped it would seem more real to her if she heard the words aloud, but it didn’t. She continued to sit almost in a daze. Troy came in and finished eating the pan of cookies Jeff started, but she didn’t notice.

  Bobbie was thinking back two years in time, to the fall and the first day of school. They had not attended the same church as the Taylors in those days, and so Bobbie had not seen Jeff over the summer.

  She couldn’t believe how tall he had grown over the summer months, and neither could most of the other girls. He became the object of so much attention in the first few weeks that he began to change. He had never been mean or vicious, but suddenly he went from open and friendly to aloof and unapproachable.

  The old Jeff had shown kindness to Bobbie on more than one occasion, even defending her when she was teased about her eyesight. Now he stayed quiet if the older kids made unkind remarks, or he just behaved as though she didn’t exist. Any little infatuations Bobbie had for Jeff had been slowly crushed beneath the heels of his indifference.

  And now he had just come over and asked her to the boat outing. Bobbie was thrilled. Her open, honest approach to life made her somewhat naive to the underhanded ways and thought processes of some people. It never even occurred to her that Jeff had asked her for any other reason than the fact he wanted to spend the day with her.

  “Roberta!” Maryanne Bradford’s outraged voice broke through Bobbie’s dream world. “You’re burning the cookies!”

  “Oh no, I’m sorry, Mom.” The women reached simultaneously for the oven pad to rescue the burning pan but Maryanne ended up doing the work.

  “Honestly, Bobbie, it wasn’t as if you weren’t sitting right here,” her mother said in some exasperation.

  “I know and I’m sorry, but Mom, the most wonderful thing just happened. Jeff Taylor came by and asked me to the boat outing on Sunday!”

  “He did?” Maryanne said with a smile.

  “I can go, can’t I? I know I’m not 15 yet, but Daddy will say yes, won’t he?” Maryanne looked into her daughter’s eyes, so full of hopeful entreaty, and smiled.

  “Jeff is a nice young man. Of course he’ll say yes.”

  “Oh thanks, Mom, thanks!” Bobbie threw her arms around her mother and squeezed her tight. Then she broke away suddenly, her face showing her horror.

  “Mother! What will I wear?” Maryanne watched her daughter flap her hands in a state of panic and then charge for the stairs. She was back down before she had gone five steps.

  “Angie! I’ve got to tell Angie!” This time she watched Bobbie fly out the front door running as fast as she could.

  “What’s her problem?” Troy asked his mother, who was standing at the door still watching her daughter run.

  “Bobbie needs to tell Angie something. No problem really.”

  “Well, whatever it was, it made her burn the cookies. I can smell ’em out here.” Troy made no effort to masquerade his disgust.

  “Well, I wouldn’t worry about it, dear, since you’ve never let singed edges stop you before.”

  “No, I guess I haven’t.” Troy slipped past his mother and into the house. Maryanne followed a few minutes later, joining Troy in the kitchen. She emptied the contents of her purse onto the table and began to count, praying as she did that she would have enough for a surprise for her daughter.

  four

  Maryanne Bradford went a little out of her way as she walked home the next day after work. She had left that morning feeling regretful over not having enough money to buy fabric for a new dress for Bobbie. She wished they had had more notice; then she could have put a little aside over a few weeks.

  But then Mrs. Walcott, the lady for whom she cleaned two mornings a week, had asked her to do a few additional things, and Maryanne had been paid extra. It was still going to make things a little tight until next week, but they would get by; they always did.

  Maryanne walked into Riggs Mercantile and headed straight to the fabric counter. She had priced and fingered several bolts when someone spoke behind her.

  “Hello, Maryanne.”

  “Hi, May, I didn’t even see you.”

  “I was upstairs talking with Rigg. Are you looking for fabric?”

  “Yes, I’m sure you know that Jeff asked our Bobbie to the lagoon outing, and I want to surprise her with a new dress.”

  May smiled. “I almost asked how you could have it done in time, and then I remembered I was talking with Maryanne Bradford.”

  Maryanne beamed over the compliment and asked May what she thought of a certain piece of cotton. The background was a jade green with a pattern of tiny white flowers.

  “Bobbie’s eyes are green, aren’t they?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, this will be perfect.”

  “I emptied my purse last night to see if we could afford this, and then had to ask the Lord to help me accept the fact that we couldn’t. Then today I got paid a little extra. If we’re careful until next week, Bobbie should have her dress. I u
sually cut my own dresses down for her and she never complains, but I can’t wait to see her face when she finds out she’ll have a dress from new cloth.”

  “There’s something inside us, isn’t there, Maryanne, that yearns for our children to have all they need and a little more?”

  “Isn’t that the truth! Don’t get me wrong, May, I’m not hearing wedding bells or anything, but you wouldn’t have believed the look on Bobbie’s face when she told me Jeff asked her. It was a mixture of excitement and fear all rolled into one.”

  “I know they’ll have a good time.” May touched Maryanne’s arm and then said she had to be on her way. Maryanne took the fabric to the front and started home again in a few moments.

  Bobbie had started supper and was up to her elbows in a flour mixture for fried chicken. Maryanne made her wash her hands and sit at the table.

  “But, Mom, I’ll just get them all messy again when I pick up the chicken.”

  “I know, but for the moment you need clean hands. Now close your eyes.” Bobbie’s brows lowered for a moment, but then she did as she was told.

  Maryanne popped into the living room to retrieve a small parcel wrapped in plain brown paper. Her husband, Jake, came in the front door at that instant and Maryanne signaled him over.

  “All right, now you can open your eyes and the package.” Mother and Father stood silently by as their daughter tore the paper back to reveal the most beautiful fabric she said she had ever seen.

  “It’s for you—for a new dress to wear on Sunday afternoon.”

  “Oh Mom, Dad!” Bobbie breathed as she smoothed the wonderful material with her hands. She missed the meaningful glance exchanged between the adults.

  “I’ll explain later,” Maryanne whispered softly as Jake put his arm around his wife. They had discussed it the night before and Jake had been as regretful as Maryanne over Bobbie not having a new dress.

  The women went to work right after supper and Bobbie was so excited she could barely hold still. The dress was finished by lunch the next day and all she could do was stand in front of the mirror in her parents’ room and look at herself.