CLAIRE’S STORY

As the morning sun shone into the bedroom window, Claire rose from her pillow. She glanced to her right to see that her daughter had once again fallen asleep in the chair next to her bed. At such a young age, just turning 20, she should be vibrant and full of life; but dark circles surrounded her eyes and lines were creased into her young face; making her look tired and years older. ‘Let her sleep,’ Claire thought, ‘Today I’m going to let her sleep.’ She eased out of the bed as quietly as she could without disturbing Mary Dean. She quickly changed into a dress and took a long pause to watch her only baby curled up in the chair. A long blonde strand of hair curled around her cheek and flowed out then in again as she breathed to a slow rhythm. Claire smiled as tears welled up in her eyes, for she looked so beautiful, yet so exhausted.

She closed the door tightly, finished dressing and tiptoed out of the house. If felt good to have the sunlight on her face. It had been so long since she felt like going outside, and today was the perfect day to re-emerge. The sky was a clear blue with not a cloud in sight and the birds were already serenading one another in the trees. Claire took a deep breath and headed to the store.

“Why, Claire, it is so good to see you out and about. “How are ya?” Mrs. Wayno yelled from across the street. “Thanks. I feel pretty good. Just going to the store to get a few groceries while Mary Deans a’sleepin.” She walked on down the street, waving at passing cars and old neighbors working in their gardens. Claire was born and raised in Cornwell, Mississippi. The only time she had spent away from home was during her stint at Ole Miss; but as soon as she had her diploma, she came home to stay. She loved Cornwell. Only in such a small Delta town like this could you walk up town and know everyone you meet.

Here, you could always depend on the church ladies to fix you a good home-cooked meal when you were sick and you never had to bother with locking your doors at night. Despite the lack of adventurous career opportunities, Cornwell was the perfect town to raise a family. And, so, that is just what Claire did. She found a teaching job at the high school from which she had graduated and watched her daughter graduate from there as well. When her husband had died, Mary Dean pleaded with Claire to move to Cleveland with her; but she refused. Cornwell was Claire’s home and, in some ways, the security blanket she had always needed. It felt good to see it again one last time.

When she walked into the door, Stanley came running from behind the counter. “Claire, what in the world are you doing? Does Mary Dean know you’re out?” She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, Stanley. Just came to get a few things for the house. Mary Dean’s sleeping; I just thought I’d let her be.” Stanley rushed to get a buggy for her, “Tell me what you want and I’ll get it for you, and then take you back home. You don’t need to be out and about like this.” Claire looked at her old friend as intensely as she ever had. She looked him straight in the eyes. “Stanley, please just let me do this, okay.” Without saying any more, Stanley understood exactly what Claire meant. He forced a smile, gave his dear friend a hug; and let her go about her shopping.

As she walked up and down the aisles, smiling at the other shoppers, a renewed strength beginning to build up inside her and Claire began to feel like a regular person again. “Thanks and come again, Claire. It was great seeing you.” Stanley said as he bagged her groceries for her, as he had done a million times over the years. “It was great seeing you, too, Stanley.”

With her bag in her hand, filled with fresh lemons and chicken, Claire started back home. She came upon the drug store and paused. For the past year, Mary Dean had been getting her medicine for her. Though the medicine was always in stock, the medicine bills had stopped coming months ago. When she asked Mary Dean about them, she just said that Walter wasn’t worried about it. She and Walter were high school sweethearts. Everyone in Cornwell thought they were going to get married. After graduation, they went to Ole Miss together. Walter majored in Pharmaceutical Medicine; Claire in Elementary Education. But, they soon found that outside of being the sweethearts of Cornwell, they didn’t have much in common. They departed as friends and went their separate ways. Walter married a girl from Greenville; and she married Frank, one of Walter’s best friends.

“Hello, Walter,” Claire spoke to the gray haired man behind the tall counter. He looked up from his pills and his mouth fell open at the sight of her. He held out his arms as he came around the corner. “Claire, how are you, honey?” He squeezed her so hard he was afraid he was hurting her; but she just held him even tighter. “I’m fine. I thought that maybe you and I could share an ice cream together. That is, if you have the time?” He looked around the drug store. It was pretty slow except for the same group of retirees that came every day for a game of checkers. “For you, I always have time.” “Why haven’t you been sending me a bill for my medicine, Walter?” Claire decided to get straight to the point, as they sat in front of the ice cream parlor at the front of the store. “You know I have the money. I have always paid my bills. I don’t like to owe anyone.”

Walter took a deep breath. Claire was never the girl to be reckoned with. She was as stubborn as a mule and he knew it all too well. “Honey, I know you have the money. I did not mean to offend you. I just wanted to do something for you. That’s why I haven’t been charging you. I just care about you, that’s all.” “Well, let’s settle any debt I may have with you, now. Tell me how much I owe and I’ll write a check.” Claire got her purse out. “Thank you for the sweet gesture, but I will pay my dues, thank you very much.”

“Write a thousand checks if you want; but I will tear every one of them up. Let me do this for you, please Claire.” Walter looked around the store and lowered his voice. “Thirty years ago, you broke my heart. The least you can do for me now is to forget about that damn medicine bill. Please, honey, let me do this for you.” There was a short silence, and then he pleaded once again. “Please Claire.” She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Fine, but I’m paying for the ice cream.” They spent the next hour laughing about old times they had shared and catching Claire up on the latest gossip. My, how she had missed so much. Life had just gone on without her for the past year.

Though she felt somewhat conceited for thinking it; she had never imagined that Cornwell could live without her. She had depended on it for so many years, and she thought that it, too, depended on her. As strange as it may sound, she felt betrayed by it, her dear friend, Cornwell. After they finished their ice cream, Walter walked Claire to the door. “Come back to see me, honey. It was great talking to you.” Claire gave him a kiss on the cheek, and then looked up at him. “I’ll always be around, Walter. You can’t keep me out of Cornwell.” She turned and headed back home.

As she came back up to her house, she stopped to take it all in. She could smell the honey suckles in the air, stirring with the scents of the rose garden she had planted when she was pregnant with Mary Dean. In a distance she could hear the roaring of a tractor out in the fields that bordered the city limits. A light, warm breeze from the gulf was blowing, offering a slight relief to the Delta heat. She took a long look around the neighborhood that she had lived in for so many years. This street, with its trimmed hedges and flower gardens, had seen her grow up to become a woman and raise a child of her own. It had heard the sound of children’s laughter as they played in the yard and a woman’s cries as those she loved had gone away. If she were not Claire Montgomery of Cornwell, Mississippi; who would she be?

“What are you thinking about, Momma?” Mary Dean had stood at the screen door, watching her mother. She was standing on the edge of the lawn, looking as though she wanted to scream out something to the entire neighborhood. “Are you okay, Momma?” Claire closed her eyes and took a long breath, trying to draw everything in. She slowly headed toward the house, trying to take in still more of her beloved neighborhood. “I was scared to death when I woke up, Momma. Why didn’t you tell me you wanted something from the store? I would’ve gone for you.” Mary Dean lectured as Claire walked into the den. “Mary Dean, honey, you were sleeping. I am your mother and I didn’t want to wake you. I’m a grown woman. I decided to take a walk to the store and so I went. I didn’t need anyone’s permission to do so. I’m sorry I worried you.”

Mary Dean lowered her head and bit the bottom of her lip, just like she always did when she knew she had made her momma mad. “Stop biting your lip, honey. I’m not angry with you. Look, I feel good today. Just sit back and relax for a change and let me cook for you. How does fried chicken, mashed potatoes and okra sound, topped off with fresh squeezed lemon juice?” “Sounds wonderful. I don’t know how long it’s been since I ate that good. Let me start on the chicken.” Mary Dean went to get a knife. “Absolutely not. Sit your end down in that chair. Read a book or something, just stay out of my kitchen. I’m cooking this meal for you, honey.” Mary Dean gave a slight laugh and retreated to the library.

An hour later, as they feasted on their Southern meal and sipped on their lemonade, Mary Dean couldn’t help but notice a difference in her mother’s eye. For the past few months, she had only gotten out of bed to use the bathroom. She couldn’t even sit up to watch television. It had gotten to the point that Mary Dean had begun counting the days until she would finally succumbed to the cancer. But, today, her mother had the spunk she had when she was younger, her eyes were bright and her long blonde hair looked soft and lush as she ran her fingers through it. For the first time in a very long time, Mary Dean had hope that her mother would beat this after all. She wanted to freeze time and stay in this moment with her mother at the kitchen table forever.

“Mary, have I been a good mother to you?” This question caught her completely off guard. “What! Don’t be silly, Momma. Of course you have. Why are you talking like that?” “I don’t know. When you get old, honey, you just start thinking about stuff like this. I know it’s a little too late to ask now, but I was just wondering. So, can you tell me the most important advice I have ever given you?” Claire pushed for some sort of confirmation. “Momma, please. I don’t know.” Claire’s lips began to tremble with disappointment. “Wait. Let me think for a second. It’s hard to pin point just one thing, especially when I’m put on the spot like this. Let’s see. Probably the best advice you gave me was to enjoy myself completely. Because you taught me to completely enjoy myself and the wacky things I always get myself into; I’ve never done anything I’ve regretted. You taught me that if I found some enjoyment in my life, then I must be doing something right. You know the saying you’ve used so much, ‘If it makes you happy; it can’t be that bad?’ So, I’ve learned to trust my instinct. I owe that to you, Momma. So, thank you.” With a slight smile, she added, “Satisfied now.”

Claire breathed a sigh of relief and grabbed her daughter’s hand. “Yes, honey, I’m satisfied. Now help me with the dishes.” Mother and daughter spent the rest of the afternoon sipping lemonade under the shade tree, watching the neighborhood children play a game of street hockey. As the sun passed behind the oak trees, Claire decided the time had come to call it a day. She took her medicine and headed upstairs. When she got to the top, she turned around. Just as she figured, Mary Dean was watching at the bottom of the stairs. “Goodnight, sweetheart. Momma loves you. Get some rest, now, you hear?” “Okay, Momma.” Claire headed up the staircase; but stopped and turned around again. With a slight smile, Claire looked at her baby still waiting at the foot of the stairs. “Just enjoy yourself, honey.” And, with that, she went to bed.

As she closed her eyes, Claire took a deep breath. “Okay, okay… okay,” she whispered, as she drifted off to sleep. Two days later, all of Cornwell closed down to honor the memory of their most beloved child. Upon every store’s door hung a black wreath, and hundreds of roses adorned her gravesite, many of which Mary Dean had picked from the garden her mother had nurtured for so long. This town had watched her be born, watched her grow and watched her die.