Standing in the Rainbow - Fannie Flagg [145]
Macky ran down the list again. “I notice you didn’t put down anything in my den.”
“Well, what’s in there that’s worth anything, except a bunch of old dead fish on the wall? What would you want out of there anyway?”
“I have a few pictures . . . and a couple of books . . . and my baseball.”
“Well, I don’t think they’ll have time to go in there, so whenever we leave, you just be sure and get what you want saved and put everything in the box under the bed. Here, as a matter of fact, I’m just not going to take a chance with Linda’s twirling trophies. I’m going to bring them downstairs and pack them . . . the firemen may not have time to go all the way upstairs. Now is there anything else you can think of? Speak now or forever hold your peace. Remember, all the paper goods go first . . . letters, cards, newspaper clippings, our Wayne Newton photo, all our pictures, they’re all gonna go in the first batch. So if you have anything like that, stick it in.”
“Why do you want that stupid cuckoo clock on the list? It’s a piece of junk.”
“Well, it’s old. And it was a wedding present. Put something down you want then.”
Macky got up and walked around the house, looking for things. A few minutes later he came back with the baseball Bobby had given him signed by Marty Marion.
“Well, put it in the box under the bed then. I’m not going to waste their time having them look for some old baseball when too many other important things are at stake.” She added it to the list and then said, “You know—I wonder how big a safety-deposit box is and are they fireproof?”
“Why?”
“Well . . . I think we’d be a lot better off when we left town if we just took everything we could down to the bank and put it in a safety-deposit box. Then I won’t have to worry about human error. That way we would know for sure.”
“What if the bank burned down?”
Norma looked at him. “Macky . . . why would you say something like that to me? Why would you want to put something like that in my head when you know how serious this is?”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Norma. I was just kidding—the bank is not going to burn down. Neither is our house.”
“All I’m trying to do is preserve our memories, protect our family history so that Linda and our grandchildren won’t wind up without anything to look at after we are gone, and you make a joke out of it.”
“Norma, I was kidding.”
“I don’t think you appreciate the things I try and do for this family. Children should have a sense of continuity, it’s very important.”
“Honey, first of all, we don’t have any grandchildren.”
“But we might someday.”
“Even if we do, we can always have new pictures made if anything happens.”
“I am aware of that, Macky—that’s not the point. The point is, they would only see pictures of us when we were older and not when we were young . . . that’s what I’m talking about. I want them to get to see a picture of me when I was young and still had a figure, not some old middle-aged woman.”
“Oh, Norma, you’re only thirty-five years old, just stop it. You are better-looking now than you ever were.” There was a pause. Macky saw his chance and he took it. “You look better today than the day I married you.”
“Oh, you’re just saying that.”
“No, I’m not. I was looking at you the other night, when you had on that pink thing . . . you know?”
“My nightgown?”
“Yeah. I said to myself just the other night, Norma gets better-looking every day.”
“Really?”
“Yes. You were a pretty girl but now you’re . . . a . . . sexy, mature woman. Just like a ripe juicy plum ready to pick off the tree . . . just right . . .”
“I’ve had that old pink thing for years.”
“Maybe so, but you look great in it.”
“It’s just an old nightgown I got over at Kmart.”
“Well, you don’t have a thing to worry about how you look now, that’s all I can say. You’re a good-looking old broad—and don’t you forget it.”
“It had a housecoat to match. I don’t know why I never wear it. I don