Larkspur Dreams

Two


Everett handed the movers a check and shut the door to his one-hundred-year-old house. Ahh. Quiet at last. He looked at the stone fireplace and polished wooden floors. In spite of the ornate qualities of the exterior, the home suited him well, and he liked the idea of moving to a quiet, woodsy village amidst the Ozark Mountains. Best of all was the convenience factor, since his biggest client lived in Eureka Springs.

After making some serious money as an accountant, Everett looked forward to reaping the benefits. But he wasn’t about to lose what he’d gained, so that meant no distractions. Living in a smaller community would help. His Realtor had promised him that in spite of all the tourists, the neighborhood was so quiet, one could hear a pin drop. Perfect.

Except for that woman next door. Larkspur Wendell certainly could be a potential distraction. And attractive enough to cause a traffic pileup. What was it with those brown eyes of hers anyway? She had a probing gaze, which made one wonder if she knew everyone’s shadowy secrets and fully intended to use them. Yes, there was mischief written all over her lovely face. If he ever planned to get any work done, passive resistance and neutrality would need to be his watchwords when it came to Lark. He almost chuckled, but instead walked over to the piano and closed the lid.

Everett heard the doorbell and thought it might be the movers coming back to give his furniture one more bash with their crowbar, but a quick peek told him it was his neighborly distraction instead. He opened the door with his passive resistance intact. To his surprise Lark stood before him dressed in a bee costume. “May I help you?”

Lark smiled as one of her shoulders came toward her cheek in a shy kind of shrug. Was that her perfume drifting over to him?

Everett loosened his tie a bit.

“Hi. I know you’re unpacking and all.”

Good calculation.

Lark reached up to adjust one of the antennas on her head. “But our church is having a fall festival later this evening. And I wanted to invite you.”

“It’s hard to take you seriously. You’re dressed. . .like an insect.” He held back a chuckle.

“Tell me, Mr. Holden. What do you really see?”

What does she mean? “I see a lady dressed like an insect.”

A warm smile inched its way across Lark’s face. Her hair floated around her in the breeze as she wiped the strands from her eyes. “Well, you also see a neighbor who wants you to feel welcome.”

“Okay.” It was a struggle for him to drum up any animosity since Lark seemed so sincere.

“I give away candy and run the win-a-goldfish game,” she said. “That’s why I have on this costume. I have to be there early to get set up, but here’s the address if you decide to come. We’ll also have a cakewalk, a white elephant sale, and plenty of hot dogs.” She offered him a folded piece of paper along with a packet of chewing gum.

Everett accepted both items, but he wasn’t going to bother asking why she was dressed like a bee instead of a goldfish. He figured her answer would be as tangible as her gauzy wings.

“You’re certainly—”

“Listen.” Was that one of his headaches coming on? “I will be looking for a church in this neighborhood, but right now I’ve got to get my office set up and get back to work. Maybe some other time.” Do I really mean that? He’d been a Christian since childhood, but sometimes he had to admit his church attendance had taken a backseat to his work.

“No problem. But don’t work too hard. If you’re not careful, Mr. Holden, you’ll miss the joie de vivre.” Lark whirled around, just missing his face with her wings. Oblivious to her near hit, she headed down the walk humming something he’d heard in Sunday school when he was a kid, “Go Tell It on the Mountain.”

Everett watched her go as he placed his hand on his arm where she’d touched him. What did she mean? He’d miss the joie de vivre?

Before he closed the door, he noticed a man sporting a bomber jacket and a ponytail rumble up to Larkspur’s house on a motorcycle. He looked like something off a billboard promoting filterless cigarettes and a tattooed lifestyle. Why did some people generate noise just by existing? The thunder from his bike echoed through the canyons. Who does he remind me of anyway? Oh yeah. My brother, Marty. He hadn’t heard from him in years and suddenly wondered what had become of him.

The revving of the engine forced him to refocus his attention on Lark. She slipped on her suede jacket and hopped onto the back of the guy’s bike as if she’d done it many times. Must be her boyfriend. He told himself that when he did have the time to date again, it would be with a woman who had her feet firmly planted on the earth’s surface.

Everett put a stick of the gum in his mouth before he remembered he hated candy. Hmm. He hadn’t chewed licorice gum since he was a kid. Kind of an odd, sweet flavor. He stuck the packet in his shirt pocket and headed to the stacks of boxes in his office. But the second he hit the office door, he knew what he would do next. He’d look up the meaning of joie de vivre in his French-English dictionary.

❧

After the festival, Lark removed her coat and bee wings. She smiled, remembering how the faces of the children lit up when they’d won a goldfish. And I still can’t believe The Salt and Light Band played all my favorite songs. She’d also been pleased to see so many new people in the crowd. And some were interested in checking out the church on Sunday morning. What a success. She sank into the couch, exhausted but content.

Lark closed her eyes for a moment and thought of Everett. At the festival she’d glanced around looking for him, but she knew he had the perfect excuse for not attending. He was still busy unpacking. I wonder if he’ll ever become a part of the community. She certainly couldn’t imagine him wanting to spend the holidays all alone.

Lark thought of Dr. Norton again and pulled down one of her yearbooks from the university. She flipped the pages back and forth until she found her professor’s photo. She studied the picture. So forlorn with a hint of something else. Desperation? She touched his photo. Rumor was, he’d not only lost his wife and friends because of his reclusive lifestyle, but he’d also died a lonely death. Only three people had come to his funeral, including herself. Strange, he’d willingly chosen his solitary way of life. Lark wondered what trauma in Dr. Norton’s past had made him so self-destructive.

But there was still hope for Everett. She vowed to rally round her neighbor. Whatever it took, she’d help him out of his solitary existence.