Eventide - Kent Haruf [2]
When Victoria came out, the man and the woman were standing in the tarred parking lot deciding something between themselves. She couldn’t see the girl or her brother, then turned and saw they were standing together at the corner under the traffic light, looking up Main Street toward the middle of town, and she went on to where Raymond and Harold were waiting for her at the car.
IT WAS SHORTLY AFTER NOON WHEN THEY DROVE DOWN the ramp off the interstate and into the outskirts of Fort Collins. To the west, the foothills rose up in a ragged blue line obscured by yellow smog blown up from the south, blown up from Denver. On one of the hills a white A was formed of whitewashed rocks, a carryover from when the university’s teams were called the Aggies. They drove up Prospect Road and turned onto College Avenue, the campus was all on the left side with its brick buildings, the old gymnasium, the smooth green lawns, and passed along the street under the cottonwoods and tall blue spruce until they turned onto Mulberry and then turned again and then located the apartment building set back from the street where the girl and her daughter would now live.
They parked the car and the pickup in the lot behind the building, and Victoria went in with the little girl to find the apartment manager. The manager turned out to be a college girl not unlike herself, only older, a senior in sweatshirt and jeans with her blonde hair sprayed up terrifically on her head. She came out into the hallway to introduce herself and began at once to explain that she was majoring in elementary education and working as a student teacher this semester in a little town east of Fort Collins, talking without pause while she led Victoria to the second-floor apartment. She unlocked the door and handed over the key and another one for the outside door, then stopped abruptly and looked at Katie. Can I hold her?
I don’t think so, Victoria said. She won’t go to everybody.
The McPherons brought up the suitcases and the boxes from the car and set them in the small bedroom. They looked around and went back for the daybed and high chair.
Standing in the door, the manager looked over at Victoria. Are they your grandfathers or something?
No.
Who are they? Your uncles?
No.
What about her daddy then? Is he coming too?
Victoria looked at her. Do you always ask so many questions?
I’m just trying to make friends. I wouldn’t pry or be rude.
We’re not related that way, Victoria said. They saved me two years ago when I needed help so badly. That’s why they’re here.
They’re preachers, you mean.
No. They’re not preachers. But they did save me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without them. And nobody better say a word against them.
I’ve been saved too, the girl said. I praise Jesus every day of my life.
That’s not what I meant, Victoria said. I wasn’t talking about that at all.
THE MCPHERON BROTHERS STAYED WITH VICTORIA Roubideaux and the little girl throughout the afternoon and helped arrange their belongings in the rooms, then in the evening took them out to supper. Afterward they came back to the rented apartment. When they were parked in the lot behind the building they stood out on the pavement in the cool night air to say good-bye. The girl was crying a little again now. She stood up on her toes and kissed each of the old men on his weathered cheek and hugged them and thanked them for all they had done for her and her daughter, and they each in turn put their arms around her and patted her awkwardly on the back. They kissed the little girl. Then they stood back uncomfortably and could not think how to look at her or the child