She Only Speaks to Butterflies (4 page)

BOOK: She Only Speaks to Butterflies
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“Jenny Martin, right?” Jenny smiled, giving Sherry’s hand a soft pump. “I’m Sherry Little. I live up beside Baker’s Farm?”

Recognition crossed Jenny’s eyes as her face lit up. “Your young one goes to the same school as Karen Stainer’s girl, right? Little Lisa?”

“That’s right. Denise is in Lisa’s class.”

“Nice to meet you. Can I get you a coffee or tea?” Jenny said warmly. “I just started workin’ here the other day.”

Sherry smiled. “Vern mentioned he’d be hirin’ since Mitchell’s goin’ away for the summer.”

“He’s leavin’ tomorrow. Been trainin’ me the last coupla days.”

Sherry spoke carefully. “Where’s
your
little one go to school?” She avoided eye contact by examining the donuts and pastries in the display case below.

“Oh, mine ain’t little,” Jenny waved. “He’ll be twelve at the end of the summer. He goes to the public school on the other side of the hill.” Jenny’s face darkened. “He was real upset yesterday. To think they’d accuse my Kevin of settin’ a fire! Heaven knows where they got the idea from. He’s a good boy,” she insisted. “His daddy left five years ago and I’ve been on my own, but he’s stayed out of trouble so far.” Jenny looked at Sherry and cocked her head to the side. “Well, you know what it’s like raisin’ a young one on your own, right?”

“I do,” Sherry agreed; feeling slightly uncomfortable with Jenny’s openness.

Jenny continued. “Now, I don’t want to speak out of turn, but some people just get the wrong idea about my Kevin.” Her nose turned up slightly. “He sticks up for himself, that’s one thing his daddy taught him before he took off. If people take that as him being aggressive, well, that’s their problem.” Satisfied with her statement, Jenny patted the counter. She grinned at Sherry. “Now, enough about that, what can I get you?”

“Coffee. Black, no sugar.”

“Comin’ right up.”

Sherry turned, hoping nobody was in earshot of Jenny’s proud declaration. She saw a familiar figure coming into the café: Lina Groves. She wanted desperately to hurry Jenny along, but it was too late, Lina spotted her and marched in with her nose in the air.

“Greg couldn’t come by yesterday, he was makin’ a sale,” she announced; her chest puffing out.

“Oh yeah? Which house did he sell?” Sherry asked with pasted-on interest.

“The Berkshire’s,” she boasted. “Sold for twice as much as yours is worth.” Lina was smug. “He made enough commission to buy me ten of those damn dresses.”

“Congratulations.”

Lina bent over to fix the strap on her shiny leather sandal. “That’s the diff’rence between makin’ commission and livin’ on a retainer,” she said as a deliberate jibe to Sherry’s late husband, who was a lawyer.

Sherry ignored Lina’s snide remark. “Tell Greg I said hi.”

“I’m sure you’d love that,” Lina murmured under her breath as she walked away, purposely swaying her plump hips.

“Here’s your coffee, Sherry.” Jenny handed her the Styrofoam cup and Sherry gave her the coin, “Keep the change.”

“Thanks,” Jenny said as she dropped the change into the tip jar on the counter. “Have a nice day.”

 


 

Sherry pulled up to the church as Kate waved at her from a trestle table close to the parking lot. The table was full of cupcakes and cookies.

“How ya doin’, love? Beautiful day, ain’t it?” Kate greeted.

“Any hotter ‘n my cupcakes will melt,” Sherry said, opening the trunk of her Eldorado.

“We should have a good turnout. Reverend Telly told the congregation at Clearview about it, too. Should go fast.”

Reverend Telly recognized faces and waved. His gaze moved to Kate and Sherry.

“Sherry!” he shouted. “Good to see you! Where’s Denise?”

“Oh, she’s still at school. Martha’s bringing her afterward.”

“Sounds good. Can I give you a hand?” he offered.

Pandemonium started as families pulled up, selecting treats and then mingling with the volunteers. Everyone from Lina and Greg Groves to Marty and Liz from the Food Mart showed up to give support. Sherry stood behind the table, tending to the cash, and beamed with pride watching everyone open their hearts and wallets for a local cause.

“Are ya meltin’ yet?” Sarah startled Sherry as she snuck up and placed the last bit of money into the till.

“No, but my feet are killin’ me.”

“Ha! When your ankles disappear into your legs, come talk to me.”

Sherry stifled a giggle. “How are ya feeling?”

Sarah snapped her gum. “Fine, just hungry. I swear this kid’s gonna be a fifteen pounder.” Sarah changed the subject. “You ain’t heard nothin’ about them sellin’ the Berkshire’s place, have ya?”

Sherry recalled the rude conversation she had with Lina earlier. “Yeah, I heard it sold last night.”

“No way! Thank the Lord!” Sarah shouted. “My Momma’s been buggin’ to move out here when this baby’s born. Good God, this baby’d be fatherless if that happened.”

“Really? How’d they know about the Berkshire’s?”

“Well, lemme see here…” Sarah took a moment to decipher the Berkshire’s family tree and how it related to hers as Martha’s car pulled up to the church, catching Sherry’s attention. Denise was sitting in the back, and she spotted Sherry from way back and grinned. It melted Sherry’s heart.

“…so Emily Berkshire went to school with my brother’s ex-girlfriend. That’s how come they found out about the house,” Sarah finished, looking over at Sherry. “Girl, you listenin’ to me?” She followed Sherry’s gaze. “Well, I’ll be damned.” Sarah was just as surprised at the rare ear-to-ear smile on the seven year old as Sherry was.

Dr. Malcolm, Denise’s therapist, explained that some children, one day, just start talking out of the blue, like they never lost a moment without their voice. Silently, every day, Sherry prayed that would happen.

Once she took her to the children’s boutique, and bought her a purple dress with butterflies, Denise had a look on her face, bright, inspired, the kind that said ‘I can do it, mommy’. Sherry could have sworn she saw Denise talking to her dress, spying on her from behind the bedroom door that day, but her eyes had played tricks on her.

When Ned first built the butterfly conservatory, she spoke a few sentences. Ned had been so excited that he ran right out of the stables to fetch Sherry. At first, Sherry thought the old man was so intent on having her talk that he’d imagined it. But when Denise opened her birthday present and saw the bear she’d told the butterflies she wanted, her face told the truth.

Sherry trotted to Martha’s car and embraced Denise the moment her feet touched the asphalt. Denise pulled back and smiled timidly at the ground. Sherry waited. Martha and Luke joined them and Sherry caught Luke blushing.

“He asked her to marry him,” Martha explained dolefully. “It was the cutest thing. He made her a ring from a pipe-cleaner.”

Sherry bent down to Denise’s level and put her hand out.

“May I?” she asked. Denise held out her hand, showing Sherry the fluffy blue wire wrapped around her finger. “It’s beautiful.” Sherry said. “Did you say yes?” The little girl ignored the question, shifting her focus toward the sweet tables. “Do you want some goodies?” Sherry asked, but Denise didn’t answer. She ran to Reverend Telly who was waiting on bended knee. Sherry stood upright and ran her hand through her hair, realizing she was breathless.

“You okay?” Martha asked, watching Luke follow Denise to the pastry table.

“Yeah. I swore she would talk. She’s been smiling a lot more lately.”

“It’s only been a few weeks since she spoke last,” Martha comforted. “Maybe it’ll happen in increments.”

Sherry’s chest was heaving, like she was angry, even though she wasn’t. Her heart was beating fast as the adrenaline pumped through her veins.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like? To not hear your child’s voice? To know she might need you in the middle of the night, but she can’t tell you why or scream for you? Do you have any idea?” Her voice was firm, like she was trying to win an argument she felt really strongly about. A vein popped out of her neck as she clenched her teeth.

Martha sensed Sherry’s need to vent. “As a matter of fact I do, but go on.”

“God!” Sherry hissed, her hands balled into fists. “You know what the worst part of it is?” She looked down at her hands and released her fingers. Red half-moons remained from digging her fingernails into her palms. “Chris. Chris talks to me in my dreams.”

Martha waited. “I hear my dead husband’s voice more than I hear my own daughter’s.” A line of spittle had escaped her lips as she felt her face flush. “And you know what he asks me? Do you?” she urged. “He asks me if she talks about him. How am I supposed to answer that? Huh? How? Does she remember him? Does she wonder where he is? Does she even understand that he’s never coming back? That he’s not some butterfly pupa waiting to hatch and come to life again!”

Martha rubbed Sherry’s back. “Calm down,” Martha soothed, watching from behind her dark sunglasses as people looked their way. “You wanna go get a drink or something?”

“No, I’m fine.” She emphasized the word ‘fine’. “I just sometimes think my daughter is crazy. Do you ever wonder that? Do you think anyone else ever wonders? You know? What’s wrong with Sherry’s daughter? You know? The one that doesn’t talk? The one who only speaks to butterflies?”

Martha shook her head, massaging Sherry’s shoulders as she continued her rant.

“How do you think people are goin’ to talk about her when she’s older, huh? Sometimes I think we need to get the hell out of this town and start a new life. That’s what she needs.”

“You need a break,” Martha advised. “Why don’t you come away with me for the weekend? We’ll drive up the coast and sip margaritas on the beach.”

Sherry scoffed. “I have my parents comin’ in a week. My place is a disaster. I can’t go anywhere.”

“I’ll come over tomorrow and help ya tidy up, okay? Sarah and I will take ya shoppin’ and get ya a new dress and you’ll be good as new.”

“I work in a clothin’ boutique,” Sherry reminded.

“So we’ll take ya outta town.”

Sherry looked over at her daughter, playing with the Reverend, Kate, and a bunch of their church friends and the tears began to flow. Martha felt Sherry’s shoulders heave and brought her closer.

“Come on now, you’ll be fine.  I’m comin’ by later and we’re havin’ a stiff drink.  No arguments.”

“The town meetin’s tonight.” Sherry sobbed. “Ned asked me to come.”

“Ah, what’s one more drunk to add to the mix?” Martha said.

Suddenly Sherry felt guilty for ever thinking of leaving.

 

Chapter 6

 

Ned stood like a soldier in the front entrance while people filed into the town hall. Grace, the church secretary, was handing out pamphlets outlining the order of business. As familiar faces passed, Ned nodded hello or shook hands. Alan, the fire Marshall, was on the town committee. He was sitting inside the hall at the middle table, surrounded by two other tables on either side of him. Facing him was five rows of wooden, steel legged chairs.

Bob Greensman was the Chairman of the town committee, and his brother, William, was the executive chairman. Robert Decker was the Head chairman, acting as the judge or gatekeeper for all the meetings. Cynthia Moore sat in the front row, off to the side, taking minutes for the meeting. When Bob, William and Robert entered the hall, Alan shifted over, sitting beside Bob.

Sherry approached the front door with Martha. Ned smiled when he saw them.

“Sarah with Denise tonight?” he asked.

“Yeah. She’ll be asleep when I get home I’m sure.”

“Won’t be a long one,” Ned assured. “A couple things came down the pipeline this afternoon.”

“I’ll see ya inside.” Ned winked, tipping his head to Martha respectfully.

Martha directed them over to a row near the middle and sat, draping her sweater over the back of the chair. “Bob looks ticked,” she murmured.

Bob poured a glass of water from the pitcher in the middle table, offering it down the line. His face, usually affable, was reddened and the crease in his forehead more pronounced.

“Geez, full house tonight.” Martha surveyed the room, nodding to familiar faces while Sherry sat expressionless.

She worried that they were going to build the hospital over on Grogan St., where Chris had the accident. Part of her knew it wasn’t healthy that she had been visiting the spot nearly ever week, alone, for the past two years. When Denise was older she would bring her, but until then she felt it was best this way.

Ned and Kate kept their struggles with the town secret. Sherry was in the dark about their battle to have the site developed. It was a safety hazard. Although the road had been closed since Chris died, they knew one day someone would venture past the signs and find it.

The town was growing, and even if a new hospital wasn’t built there now, sooner or later that area would have purpose. It was a good parcel of land with fertile soil. If the Bakers had the money they would buy it, but they already owned over one hundred and fifty acres, which was ample farmland.

BOOK: She Only Speaks to Butterflies
13.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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