Paint Chips Read online

  We lived in the house with yellow siding and a wrap-around porch. Neighbor kids came over to play in our backyard. Running circles around the house, trying to avoid tromping on my mom’s flowerbeds.

  Inside, the house smelled of cookies baking. Bread rising. The aroma of my mom’s love for us. She created goodies that all the other mothers envied. And my mom guarded her baking secrets. But she promised to teach me as soon as I got a little older.

  I spent many nights at Lola’s House dreaming of my childhood. I dreamed that they’d never ended. But then the next morning, waking up, I’d realize that it was all gone.

  Those days were buried in two coffins beneath six feet of impossibility.

  Cora – 5

  After all the guests left and we ate dinner, I returned to my room to read a little before turning off my light.

  Night was always the worst time for me. The deafening sound of nothing filled the halls throughout the institution. I found it unnerving. Sometimes Stewart cried out in a dream if they hadn’t given him enough medicine to make him sleep.

  I despised my hard bed. It made sleep even more elusive. My muscles ached for something soft, something I could sink into. The nights when I couldn’t sleep, memory returned. One fragment at a time.

  ~*~

  I’d been living in Lansing, Michigan, for six years. It took several months for me to work my way up to a secretarial position in a law firm downtown. I’d worked very hard to achieve that job. Considering my lack of education, it hadn’t been easy. The paycheck remained unimpressive, but it paid the rent and bought groceries.

  One summer morning, an especially heavy rainstorm hit Lansing. I went about my routine, not wanting to be late for work. After pulling out of my apartment complex, I realized that I couldn’t see very far in the deluge. Suddenly I drove into a flooded part of the road. The water rose up past the wheels of my little car. I pulled to the side of the road. But then the engine quit. I didn’t know if I would be able to get myself out of the car without the water flowing in. Anxiety rushed my brain.

  Someone knocked on my driver side window.

  “Hey, ma’am!” the deep voice spoke loudly over the sound of heavy raindrops. “You need help.”

  It wasn’t a question. And he was right. I needed help in so many ways. I couldn’t think of an area of my life that didn’t need a good dose of help.

  “Ma’am, I’m going to need you to open your door. I’ll help you get out.”

  “I can’t.” I tried to keep my voice under control. “The water will get in. It’ll ruin my car.”

  Panic took over. The car seemed safer, stuck in the middle of a rainwater lake that grew each moment, than in opening the door and trusting a stranger. Especially a man.

  “Well, you can’t sit there all day,” he said.

  “Why do you care?”

  “Because I don’t want to watch you drown!”

  Through the rain I could see his blurry image. It appeared that he wore some kind of uniform. Not a police officer, I could tell that much.

  “I don’t know you!” I yelled, rolling the window down a crack. “How do I know you aren’t going to hurt me? Or steal my purse?”

  “Oh for goodness sake, ma’am! I’m just trying to help you! Would you please just let me help you?” He straightened up and pointed to a small, round pin on his shirt. “Do you see this?”

  “Yes.”

  “It says that I’m a Marine chaplain.” He lowered his face back down to the window. “I’m a military minister. My name is Steven Peter Schmidt. I was born in Oregon to a family that went to church every single Sunday. After boot camp I went to Bible college. Then I reenlisted for the job I’m doing now. Now you know me. If you need a list of references, I’ll take you to a phone and you can call my CO.”

  “I don’t even know what a CO is!” I stalled, trying to think of how to fix my problem without his help.

  “Commanding Officer.” He looked across the street. His strong jawline was attractive, even if obscured by the rain-soaked window. “Listen, I’ll take you to that little diner. You can use the phone there if you want to call for help.”

  I looked at my feet. A puddle formed on the floor mat.

  “Fine,” I conceded.

  “Ready?” he asked, hand on the door. “You have to unlock the door first.”

  “Sure.” I pulled up the lock.

  He opened the door and, in a flash, swept me up and out. I found myself in his truck. He climbed in through the driver side door. My first good look at him made me speechless. He turned and smiled at me with his off-center grin. His chocolate brown eyes crinkled in the corners. Too charmed, I had to look away.

  “Okay, let’s get you to that phone,” he said, starting up the engine.

  We were dripping wet when we walked into the coffee shop. I tugged at my clothes, worried about how the water caused them to cling to me. We sat in a booth.

  “You kids get stuck in the rain?” The waitress glared at us from across the room.

  “She did.” Steven pointed his finger at me. “And I saved her.”

  “Well, ain’t you just a knight in shining armor.”

  “It’s sure hard to pass up a damsel in distress. Especially when she’s this pretty.”

  I looked at him. He winked. I turned away.

  “Well, after you’re done eating I’ll have an awful mess to clean up.” This with a teasing tone. “You wouldn’t want this old lady to work that hard, would ya?”

  “What old lady?” Thick, syrupy charm. “I’ll tell you what. You bring me a mop before we go and I’ll take care of the whole floor for you.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that. It’s not your job, young man.” She pulled a pad of paper from her apron pocket and walked toward us, licking the point of her pencil. “Now, what can I get the two of you to eat?”

  “Just coffee, please,” I said, embarrassed. I only had enough money for that. And not even enough for a tip.

  “Gosh, you know, I think I’ll have the special.” He pointed to a picture on the menu. “That any good?”

  “Best in town.” She answered. “How you like your eggs?”

  “Sunny side up. And sourdough toast, please.”

  “You got it.” She wrote on the paper.

  “And can she use the phone?” He nodded toward me.

  “Sure thing, sugar.” The waitress motioned for me to follow her. “It’s over this way.”

  At the counter, I dialed the number for my office. The receptionist answered.

  “This is Cora,” I said.

  “Cora, where are you?” she asked.

  “I got stuck in the rain. My car broke down.”

  “Do you think you can get here? Mr. Jones told me if you don’t show up soon, he’ll fire you.”

  “Then I quit. I can find something else.” I sighed. “Just tell him that I’m done.”

  “What about your things, from your desk? Do you want me to bring them to you?”

  “No. Just throw it all away.”

  I gingerly put the receiver down, wondering at the words I’d spoken. I’d worked so hard for that job. I couldn’t understand why I’d been so hasty to quit. Anxiety choked me.

  “Where’s the restroom?” I asked the waitress.

  “Down that hall,” she answered, pointing.

  The dimly lit bathroom made my panic worsen. Digging a safety pin from my purse, I made a small slice on my arm. The cut took the edge off my nerves.

  The waitress walked in. I pulled my sleeve down quickly.

  “I needed to fix my hair.” I moved toward the mirror.

  “Here, honey.” She handed me a few hair pins. “You need a little help?”

  “Thank you.”

  She twisted my wet hair, rolling it into a loose bun. I watched her reflection as she pushed the pins into my auburn hair. She stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth and squinted her eyes in concentration.

  “My little girl hates having long hair. If I don’
t get it cut she’ll take my shears to it herself.” She smoothed the front of my hair. “I never get to play with anybody’s hair.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered. Her motherly touch soothed me in an unfamiliar way. It put a lump in my throat. It had been so long since anyone helped me with my hair.

  “Now, what happened on the phone? You seemed upset.”

  “I quit my job.”

  “Well, it must not have been worth having. Everything’ll work out for you. Pretty girl like you’ll find something new in no time.” She patted my shoulder. “And that fellow out there. He’s sure to take good care of you. He seems to really think a lot of you.”

  “Well . . . .” I wanted to correct her, but she didn’t let me.

  “Well nothing. I bet your folks are plenty proud of you. And a military man, too.” She washed her hands. “Any wedding plans?”

  “We aren’t really—”

  “Well,” she interrupted me again, “the way he looks at you, I bet he’ll pop the question soon enough. That wouldn’t surprise me at all.”

  After drying her hands, she patted my cheek and walked out of the bathroom.

  “But I just met him,” I said out loud after the door closed behind her.

  I gazed into the mirror for quite a while. Part of me hoped Steven would leave before I got back to the table. I didn’t want to let anyone into my life, even for a few hours. When I got involved with people it always ended in heartache.

  A different part of me wished that he would stay. I had to remind myself that he was just a man who helped me. Nothing more.

  “I am so lonely,” I whispered. “Lord, I need somebody.”

  Even after years of determining that God didn’t care, I still prayed occasionally. Superstitious, hoping for good luck prayers.

  I walked out to the table just after the waitress set two plates down. One was in front of my seat.

  “I didn’t order this.” I sat, looking at the eggs, bacon and toast. “There must have been a mistake.”

  “Sure was.” The waitress placed rolled up silverware on the table. “That old cook back there just made up too much food. Don’t worry, honey. It’s on me.”

  “Oh, thank you.”

  “Ain’t no thing, darling,” she said. “I’ll leave the two of you alone now.”

  She winked at me before walking away.

  “That was nice,” Steven said, taking a bite of toast.

  “It was.” My stomach grumbled at the promise of the warm breakfast. I poked at my eggs, bursting one of the yolks on the white plate. After dabbing at it with my toast, I took a bite.

  “So, what’s your name?” Steven asked. “Oh, sorry. Of course I asked right after you take a bite. Let me see if I can guess.” He rubbed his chin with thumb and index finger. Looking at me, he pulled his eyebrows together in thought.

  “Let’s see here.” His squinted his eyes. “Is it Peggy?”

  I shook my head.

  “Greta?”

  “No.”

  “Oh. Could it be Wilhelmina?”

  The giggle coming out of my mouth caught me by surprise.

  “I’m horrible at guessing.”

  “Clearly.”

  “Okay. Then you’re just going to have to tell me your name.”

  “My name is Cora.”

  “Cora? That’s a nice name.” He sipped his coffee.

  “Thank you.”

  “What does the name Cora mean?”

  “Maiden,” I said. “I looked it up in a baby name book at the library.”

  “The lovely maiden Cora.”

  “What does Steven mean?”

  “Crowned.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Like a king. My parents wanted me to have a healthy self-esteem, I guess.”

  “Well, I guess it’s fitting. You’re the king and I’m the lowly maiden.”

  “I really doubt that there’s anything lowly about you, Maiden Cora.” His eyes held a gentleness I’d never seen in a man before. “You seem to be full of the grace and kindness of a queen.”

  We talked for hours. I’d never been so interested in what anyone had to say before. He told me stories that made me laugh. Deep down, from the stomach laughs.

  When the rain let up, the waitress brought Steven the mop. He made quick work of cleaning the floor, whistling the whole time.

  “You did a very nice job.” I smiled at him.

  “Good old Marines. They had to teach me a few things before I was able to grow up. And one of those things was how to mop. It was kind of a punishment for me.”

  “Mopping as a punishment?”

  “Yeah. I was pretty self-centered when I first enlisted. They had to break me of that.” He returned the mop, paid the bill, and led me out to his truck. “How about we go for a drive?”

  “Where would we go?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe see what kind of damage the storm did.” He looked at my car, safely parked across the street. “I promise I’ll bring you back.”

  “I’m not sure.” I looked down at my hands. “I don’t make a habit of getting into cars with strangers.”

  “You have my word. I will be a gentleman.”

  “Don’t you have to get to work?”

  “Nope. I’m off until tonight. I’m on third shift at the Veteran’s Hospital.” He held his keys, jangling them. “Oh, or do you need me to drive you to work?”

  “No. I actually just quit my job.”

  “And still smiling?” he asked. “Must be a girl like you has the world eating out of the palm of her hand. I bet life’s pretty kind to you.”

  “You think so, huh?” I took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s go for that drive.”

  We climbed into his truck. He drove us to a little park.

  “Have you ever seen the rose garden here?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  “Well, then I’m honored to be the first to walk through it with you.”

  We walked among raindrop-covered buds. I stooped to breathe in the aroma of especially large, yellow blooms.

  “Wow! Look at that, Cora,” Steven whispered.

  A rainbow spread across the sky. He grabbed my hand and took me to the marble pavilion at the top of the garden. The colors bowed above us, so clear, so vibrant. Like nothing I’d ever seen. Breathtakingly majestic. All of creation seemed to take pause, reveling in the glory of it.

  We sat on a bench. Steven hadn’t let go of my hand. Some kind of energy moved from his hand into mine and up my arm. Heavy and comforting like a blanket. A protection. Teetering between fear and excitement, I reminded myself that he was still a stranger. That we’d only just met.

  “Can I ask you a question?” He kept his eyes on the sky.

  “I guess,” I said.

  “Do you believe in God?”

  “Sure,” I answered, a little stunned by his forward question. “Yes, I believe in God.”

  “Good. That’s a good thing,” he said, glancing at me. “I have this idea about God. Do you want to hear it?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, you know how God created everything? I think He could have made it any way He wanted to. You know what I mean?”

  “I think so.”

  “He could have decided to make it all ugly or boring or just one color. Just drab. But He didn’t do it that way. He made His world beautiful.” Steven looked back at the rainbow. “He didn’t have to, you know.”

  “I suppose He didn’t.”

  “Nature reveals God’s glory. He didn’t have to do that. I wonder if that’s just Him showing us a piece of His love.” He looked at me and laughed. “There I go preaching. Sorry.”

  “It’s all right,” I said, smiling. “I liked it.”

  We sat, letting the silence settle between us.

  “But what about all the ugly things?” I asked, so quietly, Steven had to lean closer to me.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Well, God made some really ugly things too. Like warts. Warts are ugly.”


  He laughed. “Yes, you’re right. They sure are.”

  “So, what is God trying to say to us when we look at things like warts?”

  “I have no idea,” he chuckled.

  The rainbow faded as the heat of the day dried out the air. We sat quietly again.

  “And what about ugly people?”

  “I guess beauty’s in the eye of the beholder, right?” he said.

  “No, I don’t mean that kind of ugly.” I hadn’t intended for the weight in my tone. The thickness of it caused me to talk slower, deliberately. “I mean what about people who do ugly things? You know, bad people. Hurtful people.”

  “Wow. That’s a deep question, Cora. It’s good.” He sighed. “There’s a lot of evil in the world. It’s a broken place. And too many people choose to give in to the evil and ugly part of life. I don’t think that is from God at all. He never made people to be like that.”

  Even though the day grew increasingly hotter, a chill shivered across my skin as Steven spoke. Goose bumps raised on my arms.

  Steven stood, stepped toward a railing that overlooked the rose garden. I joined him. Put my hand back in his.

  ~*~

  From my bed, eyes closed, the flash of memory left me. All that remained were Steven’s words.

  These past years had been worse than drab. They had been ugly, I had been ugly. Had done ugly things.

  Beauty . . . beauty was more than I deserved.

  Dot – 6

  “Dorothea, wake up, please,” Lola whispered, shaking my shoulder.

  “Lola, what the heck?” I grumbled, looking at the alarm clock. “It isn’t even five a.m.”

  “Yes,” she said, zipping up her jacket. “You are correct.”

  “Then why are you waking me up?” I whined. “I hate waking up.”

  “I need you to make one of your big family breakfasts.”

  “What’s going on? Are you going somewhere?” I rubbed my eyes.

  “The hospital called. A young lady delivered a baby a few days ago. She is set for release this morning and needs a place to live with her new son. The maternity ward can only allow her to stay for a few more hours. So I’m going to pick her up. We can’t let her go back to the streets.” She finished putting on her mismatched socks. “I would like her to have a great welcome.”