Bent Road - Lori Roy [52]
“Yeah, a few weeks,” Daniel says. He looks at Ian and tries to remember if he is more crooked since it got so cold. “Anytime.”
Chapter 15
Before sliding into the pew, Ruth genuflects, pulls off her stocking cap and smoothes her skirt. She winks at Evie as she does the same, and together, the Scott family sits. Celia and Elaine slide forward onto the kneeling bench and bow their heads in private prayer, and from their pew at the back of the church, Ruth scans the crowd. No sign of Ray’s brown hat or his dark hair. No sign. He is home now and eventually he’ll be back to church. But not yet. Not this morning. Ruth exhales, and feeling Mother’s vibration through the wooden floor as she walks down the aisle, Ruth signals the family by waving one hand. Everyone scoots down one spot to make room.
“What a shame,” Mother says, holding on to the back of the pew in front of them and groaning as she lowers herself. “What a darn shame.”
“Mother, shhhh.” Wondering if Arthur heard, Ruth looks down the line of Scotts.
Mother spreads out as she settles in, anchoring one side of the family, while Arthur anchors the other. She is angry because, once again, the Scotts are sitting in the last pew. One Sunday of every month, Father Flannery publishes a list that shows every family’s contribution to the church, and Arthur’s family remains at the bottom of that list, which means Arthur’s family sits in the last pew. Arthur says the good Lord understands about a man starting his life over and tending to his family first. Mother says the Lord is good but that He’s losing His patience.
“I thought I raised that boy to have some pride,” Mother says, making the sign of the cross. Unable to kneel, she remains sitting, her hands in her lap as she bows her head.
Ruth shifts in her seat enough to shield Evie from the conversation. “Arthur has pride enough for ten men,” she whispers, saying nothing more as Daniel peels away from the Bucher family, dips to one knee, makes the sign of the cross on his chest and slides past Mother and Ruth to take his place between Celia and Arthur.
Mother grunts, which means the conversation is over, so Ruth settles back into her seat. She turns and catches Elaine’s eye. Elaine winks and gives a small nod of approval to the shiny pink lipstick she painted on Ruth’s lips before church. Ruth, returning the smile, touches the corner of her mouth. When she looks back, Mother is frowning. Ruth lowers her eyes, slides forward onto the kneeling bench and with her forearms resting on the pew in front of them, she bows her head.
From this perspective, where she feels safe, she can see the two seats where Ray and she used to sit every Sunday morning. Ray always donated enough, barely enough, to keep their place in the third pew. Now, because Julianne is gone, the pew is empty except for Mary and Orville. Mary is thin, her shoulders frail and rounded, and Orville’s hair has gone white.
Ruth has known Mary all of her life, but she didn’t meet Orville until her thirteenth birthday. That was the day Orville stepped off a westbound train and walked into the Stockland Café. The café was crowded because dark clouds were rolling in from the south, the kind of dark clouds that meant rain. Every other dark cloud, for years it seemed, had been dust rolling in from Nebraska or maybe Oklahoma. Folks were tired of shoveling it from their homes and draping their babies with damp dish towels. The day Orville Robison arrived, folks were set to celebrate because those dark clouds meant rain. Finally, rain.
Wearing a tattered, old straw cowboy hat with a small red feather stuck in the black band, Orville walked into the café, carrying with him two leather suitcases. He had dark hair, almost black, and skin that made folks think he probably had some Indian blood in him. Sitting together at the booth nearest the front door, Eve, Ruth and Mary were sipping unsweetened tea, and the moment Orville Robison set down his suitcases, Mary smoothed her hair, bit into a lemon and said she liked that red