Chapter 29

The Independence Day celebration arrived. It would turn out to be, as had been the case in Granger in the past ... memorable.

Bobby arrived with Constance on his arm. That in itself, wasn’t unusual. For him to be seen with her was quite common. But she didn’t let go of his arm this time. She was quite possessive, in fact, even when it turned out that Jennifer and Candy had, indeed, found a couple of young men at the roadhouse and were at the picnic with those men. They were a little shameless about it too, which drew the attention of Ethyl, Gladys and their gaggle of stern-faced friends.

That only lasted until Agatha Roberts showed up. One of her arms was linked through that of the man walking beside her, and the other was burdened with a picnic basket. She walked into the park as if nothing was different about her at all, even though she had to waddle to get anywhere. Eyes went to that belly, and then to the man she was with. Eyes went to his left hand, and hers, searching in vain for rings there.

A scandalized hush fell over one group of women, all of whom stared at one of their own ... or someone who had been one of their own. They couldn’t know that Jim was almost holding her up, because her knees were so weak. Had they looked more closely at the smile on her face, they would have seen that it was composed of muscles that were tense, and frozen in place, rather than being a natural smile that moved and shifted as the muscles moved and shifted.

She couldn’t make herself go up to her old friends, and make a false inquiry as to how they were doing. She knew what they were thinking. Instead, she looked for Bobby. When she saw him, sitting with Constance, their fingers interlaced in a casually intimate fashion, she pulled Jim in that direction.

Mirriam saw her first, and her face lit up in a smile. She nudged Prudence, who was next to her, and said something. Prudence looked over and smiled too.

Those two smiles did more for Agatha than anything else could have. She knew they couldn’t help but notice her condition too, but it didn’t make any difference to them. She pulled Jim to the table and lowered herself carefully onto a folding chair across from Mirriam.

“I had to come say hello.” She had wondered what she’d say in this situation. What she’d just said hadn’t been one of the phrases she’d thought about using.

“All the way from Ohio just to say hello?” gasped Mirriam. “In your condition? That’s insane!” Her face relaxed. “It’s so good to see you, though. Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” said Agatha shyly. She was aware that Bobby was only a few feet further down the table, but she hadn’t been able to force herself to make eye contact with him. “This is Jim,” she said.

“You know most everybody,” said Mirriam in return. She turned to the man sitting on the other side of her from Prudence. “This is Professor Hamilton, who is boarding with us for the summer. He’s a researcher and is studying the prairie grasses or some such thing.” She looked back at the man standing with Agatha. She gave him what was obviously the once-over. “Well, Jim ... any man smart enough to latch onto this woman is a man welcome at our table.” Her assumption that Agatha’s condition was Jim’s doing was clear. “There’s lots to eat, so just dig in.”

Jim started getting things out of the picnic basket Agatha had set on the table. Mirriam and Prudence peppered Agatha with questions about Ohio, and how she was doing.

“There haven’t been any nibbles on your house,” said Mirriam sadly.

“I’m doing okay,” said Agatha. “It would be nice to sell it, but Harry got it from his parents when they died, and it’s paid for, so it’s not really a burden.”

Her eyes flicked to Bobby, who was looking at her with a face she couldn’t decide what communicated. There might be some surprise there, but otherwise his face looked almost sad. She couldn’t believe he’d be sad for her. She’d found one of the men he had told her was out there, after all. She couldn’t force herself to look at him longer. As her eyes slid back, she saw Constance looking at her too. Her eyebrows were furrowed in a small frown.

“Hi Constance,” she said softly, and then her eyes came back to the women across the table from her.

Erica Bradford was the next to arrive, pushing a baby buggy across the grass with seven-month old Owen in it. She came and sat down next to Jim, across from Bobby and Constance, as if they had been expecting her.

“What a beautiful night,” she said. “Have any of you seen Will or Christy?”

“That looks like them coming right now,” said Prudence, pointing.

Everyone turned to look except Agatha, who couldn’t turn that far any more. Will was striding along. The light reflected off the new mechanical clamp on his left arm. It looked a little like some kind of torture device, with the two sweeping hooks that he was able to open and close by moving the muscles in his shoulder. Christy held onto that arm, though, as if it were perfectly normal. He carried their picnic basket in his right hand.

“Captain Hook has arrrrived!” Will rolled the R and spoke with the gruff voice and accent that was clearly supposed to be that of a pirate. “Arrrgh, maties,” he added, grinning. “Found meself a young lassie too. Methinks I’m going to make her into my serving wench.”

“I hope you’re not hungry, Captain,” said Christy, dryly.

“Just kidding,” said Will.

“No you’re not,” said Christy. She grinned, though.

The incident happened when Jim was escorting Agatha to get some homemade ice cream. He offered to go get it for her, but she said she needed to get up and move around, because her legs were going numb. They came face to face with Ethyl, who was leaving the table with a bowl of ice cream.

“I knew you were a hussy,” said Ethyl, a superior look on her face.

Something in Agatha snapped. She’d been afraid of this woman, and what she thought for years. She felt like she’d been hoodwinked by her too. As she looked back on her friendship with Ethyl and the others, it looked like a drab and ghostly thing, full of unhappiness and discontent. Agatha hadn’t planned on saying anything to her old friends at all. What was the point? But now, anger gave her the courage to say something. Her hand squeezed Jim’s arm hard.

“And I knew you were a bitch,” said Agatha.

“Well I neveer!“ gasped Ethyl.

“That’s right,” said Agatha. “You never found what I found, because if you had, you wouldn’t be the dried up bitter prune you are. You almost made me that way too. I feel sorry for you, Ethyl.”

Agatha pulled at Jim’s arm and stepped past Ethyl, with as much dignity as she could muster. She wished she didn’t have to waddle like this in front of the woman.