Matt Lennox - The Carpenter

— Hello, said Helen. What a big beautiful property you guys got out here.

They were shown into the living room. Helen was as misfit a figure as Pete could imagine, but she seemed oblivious to it. Donna served them hot apple cider. Lee took Helen’s jacket and showed her to the couch. Irene’s recliner remained vacant. The Christmas tree was crooked. Donna went into the hallway and tapped on Barry’s office door.

— He’ll be out in one minute, said Donna. He’s working on his sermon for Sunday.

Donna came back into the living room and Pete brushed past her to the office door. The door was open a few inches so he opened it fully and stood on the threshold. Barry was at the desk with his study bible open beside him.

— Just a moment and I’ll be out.

— Take your time, said Pete. My mother is only half panicked. You’ve got a couple minutes before she loses her mind completely.

Barry put on a look of forbearance: What is it, Peter?

Pete took the week’s rent out of his wallet. Barry darted a look into the hallway. Then he composed himself again.

— You’re a day early with that, said Barry, taking the money.

He counted it carefully and stowed it in the strongbox in the drawer. Peter craned his neck to spy a bible quotation Barry had transcribed and underlined on his legal pad. It was about the angel appearing to the terrified shepherds, bidding them be unafraid, for that day a child was born.

— Do you believe that about the angel coming down to talk to the shepherds?

Barry blinked, tugged at his ear: Why wouldn’t I?

— I’m just curious.

— How God calls us is up to God. That’s exactly what I’ll be talking about on Sunday. It would be good to see you there. It would be good for your mom to see you there.

Pete went back into the hallway. When he was going back through the living room, John and Luke were being presented to Helen. They were both wearing the dress shirts they wore to church, pressed and tucked in, and they had identical left-sided parts in their hair.

— Couple of little heartbreakers, said Helen.

Donna served a roast ham with peas and a macaroni salad. Lee and Helen were seated next to each other across from John and Luke. Barry sat at the head of the table. Pete and his mother took their usual places. The spot for Irene at the other end of the table remained conspicuously empty.

Barry said they would pray first. They held hands around the table and Pete watched them bow their heads. He was holding John’s hand. The boy had his eyes pinched shut. Barry told the Lord thanks for the food and the fellowship of family. Across the table, Lee’s eyes were closed. Helen was looking at Pete, grinning.

Amen was said. Donna served their plates.

— Would you tell us about yourself? said Barry. We’ve heard a little bit.

Helen shrugged, hand to her chin. The boys stared at her.

— I didn’t come from around here. I don’t know anything about this town to tell you the truth. It’s funny how we end up in certain places. I went to college for a year or two, this was, like, ‘67 …

She laughed as she spoke. Barry smiled sociably. Donna and Lee were both staring into their meals, slicing through their ham with something approaching savagery. To see them, you would conclude, finally, that they were sister and brother.

— I travelled for awhile with these Hare Krishnas, said Helen. We shared everything. They were real good people. Then I went back to the city in about 1972. The city was where the action was.

She told them more, a rambling stream of words interrupted by the odd giggle. It was difficult to understand what had driven her to the city, but she told them she had a son.

— He’d be about your age, said Helen to John.

John gaped at her. Lee sounded as if he’d caught something in his throat. He coughed and cleared whatever it was, and slowly set into his ham and his peas again.

— Does your son go to school here in town? said Donna.

— Oh no, said Helen. I don’t … He doesn’t live with me. But the way it goes, things have a certain way of working out, you know? Like, to everything there is a season and a purpose.

— But you were in the city, said Donna. How’d you end up here?

— You got a lot of questions, said Lee.

— That’s okay, said Helen.

But Donna had put her knife and fork down on either side of her plate: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be nosy.

The boys stared around the table. Barry chewed methodically.

— It’s fine, said Helen. Come on, Brown Eyes, she’s asking me about myself.

— I didn’t mean to be nosy, said Donna again.

— It was a man, hun. Isn’t it always a man for us gals? Anyways he’s not my problem any more. I don’t even know where he is.

— I see.

— And he owed me money, but, oh well. Maybe Lee should go have a chat with him. Tell him what’s what.

Silence fell like a shroud. They all went on eating, pretending nothing had been said.

At length, Barry cleared his throat: I’ve seen Clifton at church. It’s a difficult time for him but he’s handled it well.

Lee chuckled dryly: And he wasn’t even in the god- He wasn’t even in the boat when it happened. Good for him. I wonder if he’s helping Bud’s wife to handle it, too. He’s sure done a lot to check up on me.

— He always mentions what a hard worker you are, Lee. You really did impress him.

— Well, how about that.

Helen had caught John staring at her. She crossed her eyes and puckered her lips together. The boy blinked down at his plate. She told him he’d catch flies with his mouth open like that.

— I made a cobbler for dessert, said Donna hastily. She got up and started to clear the plates.

— I’ll help you, said Helen.

— No, I have it.

But Helen had already lifted her plate and Lee’s from the table. She laughed: Oh, hun, I’ve been a waitress for a long time. Stuff like this is one of the two things I’m any good at.

A short while later, Pete was on the telephone in the hallway.

— I’m going to be in town later tonight. I want to see you.

— Pete, it’s a weeknight. My dad is home. Is something wrong?

— No, there’s nothing wrong. I just want to see you is all.

— I want to see you too. Okay. I’ll go out for a walk. Eight-thirty. I’ll be walking on my street.

He hung up and went back through the living room. Barry was conducting a bible lesson with Luke and John. He was speaking about the Magi. Pete could only see the backs of the boys’ heads and the expressiveness on Barry’s face as he entreated them. Lee was sitting in the recliner. He was flexing his hand into a fist and studying it closely. Releasing, flexing.

In the kitchen Donna was holding a dish, paused in the act of drying it. There had been times in Pete’s life when he had found her like this, unmoving and blank in the midst of some chore.

Helen was sitting on the counter, discussing gossip from the Owl Cafe. Donna stood static, holding the dish like a plate of armour over her heart.

— And the man she shacked up with? said Helen. Hun, you wouldn’t believe.

— Mom, said Pete.

He put his hands on the dish and tugged and for a moment Donna’s hands clutched it. Then she released. Her eyes moved to her son. She put a hand to the side of her face and then she turned around to what remained on the drying rack. She said nothing.

— Pete even helps out in the kitchen? said Helen. I bet every girl in town is kicking down your door. She flashed a brazen wink.

When Pete went back into the living room, Barry was telling the boys how King Herod was in a murderous rage. The faces of the boys were rapt, imagining the sight of infants being put to slaughter. Lee looked bored.