Where The Heart Is Part 30

he added quickly. "Live with us in the library."

"Forney." Novalee shook her head.

"I know that's not the best solution, not the best place for Americus, but we could work it out. Maybe . . ."

"Forney, having a place to stay isn't the problem. Moses and Certain asked me to live with them . . ."

"Then . . ."

"But I can't do that."

"Why? Why not?"

"I've had people taking me in since I was seven years old, Forney.

I can't do that again."

"Novalee, I wish you, uh . . . I want you, you and Americus . . ."

Forney threw his hand in the air, a magician's gesture, but there was no dove, no bouquet, no white rabbit.

Mr. Ortiz drove out that evening with the few odds and ends he had retrieved from the trailer-some wheat pennies, a few pictures, a ceramic vase . . . and Sister's Bible.

That night, after Novalee gave up on sleep, she turned on her light and took the Bible from the bedside table. She turned the first few pages until she came to the family record where names and dates had been recorded, written by different hands. Some in old-fashioned Where the Heart Is 243.

script with intricate curls and flourishes, some in print, plain block letters, studied and carefully drawn.

Novalee read the entries, dates of births and deaths-Sister's mother and father, a brother who died in infancy, a brother dead at fourteen, two aunts, an uncle, some cousins-and Sister's last brother, Brother Husband, who died in 1978.

The most recent entry was the one Sister had written four years earlier.

Americus Nation, born on May 14, 1987 Then Novalee got a pen from her purse, You're gonna die. But your name's not. No. It's gonna be You're gonna die. But your name's not. No. It's gonna be written in somebody's Bible . . . written in somebody's Bible . . .

placed the Bible in her lap See, that name has a history. And that history is gonna be there even when you're not. there even when you're not.

and made one more entry.

Thelma Idean Husband, born October 9, 1922 died May 6, 1991 When Novalee finished, she closed the Bible. And that's when she knew it was time . . . it was finally time to cry.

Chapter Twenty-Five.

H URRY, MOMMY." URRY, MOMMY."

Americus squirmed as Novalee brushed a tangle from her hair.

They were going to meet Lexie and the children for lunch at McDonald's, and Americus, eager to be turned loose in Playland with the other kids, had been antsy all morning.

"Okay, let's go."

Certain was in the kitchen folding a basket of fresh laundry. "Oh, don't you look nice," she said, bending to give Americus a hug.

"Mommy brushed my hair."

"And it's beautiful."

"We should be back by two-thirty or three," Novalee said. "Need anything from town?"

"Well, why don't you pick up three or four lemons. And a can of black pepper. Get the big can. Let's see, I'm out of vanilla extract, too."

245.

"Is that all?"

"I think so. You want me to write those down?"

"We can remember."

"That's what Moses always says, then he ends up calling me from the store."

"Where is he?"

"Outside messing with that tractor. Doing whatever he can to keep his mind off you two moving away. Breaking his heart to think of that."

Certain shook her head at the sorrow of it. "Be more'n one breaking heart, that's for sure. I saw the look on Forney's face when he left here yesterday."

"You know I don't want to leave, but . . ."

"Come on, Mommy," Americus said as she tugged at Novalee's skirt.

"Okay."

"Oh, I almost forgot," Certain said. "That man named Ray called again."

"Did he say what he wanted?"

"No, but he left his number this time."

"I'll give him a call." Then, with Americus pushing her through the door, she added, "When we get back from town."

Moses was half buried under the hood of an old John Deere tractor, but he looked up when he heard Americus calling.

"Pepaw Moses!"

"I hear you're going to town, Miss Americus."

"Going to Playland. With Praline and Brownie and Baby Ruth . . .

uh-oh." Americus slapped her forehead, a gesture she'd copied from TV. "Forgot my doctor bag," she said as she wheeled and ran for the house.

246.

"Now why in the world you need to take your doctor bag to McDonald's?" Moses called after her, but she had already darted through the back door.

Moses grinned, then dug in a toolbox and pulled out a wrench.

"You okay, honey?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Heard you up in the night."

"I was looking for a pen."

"You wanted to write? At three o'clock in the morning?"

"Well, it was something I had to finish up."

Americus struck a trail from the front door of McDonald's straight through to Playland where Praline, Brownie and the twins were taking turns at the slide. Lexie was wedged into a booth sipping a cup of coffee. She was forty pounds and six months into a pregnancy that had thinned her hair and sapped her energy.

"You been here long?"

"Oh, that depends on how you look at it," Lexie said. "We came this morning at nine, for breakfast. Then we went to the clinic for my ten-thirty appointment and here we are, back in time for lunch."

"You all are good customers."

"Customers? Novalee, we're family. We spend so much time here that Baby Ruth calls Ronald McDonald 'brother.'"

Novalee laughed-a real laugh, her first in a long time. "You're good for me, Lexie."

"Well, somebody needs to be." Lexie reached across the table and pushed Novalee's hair back from her face. "You look like h.e.l.l."

"I didn't get much sleep last night."

"It shows. How'd it go with Forney?"

"About like I figured."

"That bad. huh?"

247.

"Yeah. But he's just so crazy about Americus. If we move away . . ."

"And he's not crazy about you?"

"Sure. We're best friends."

"Oh, Novalee, open your eyes! You are not not his friend. I've told you before. Forney Hull is in love with you." his friend. I've told you before. Forney Hull is in love with you."

"Lexie, do you know the difference between love and friendship?"

"Is this a test?"

"Forney's a wonderful, decent friend who's stuck with me through some of the worst times of my life. Lexie, the man delivered my baby!

That kind of friendship . . . well, it's maybe even stronger than love."

"Oh, give me a break. He wants you so bad. I bet he dreams about sweeping you up in his arms and-"

"You read too many Harlequins."

"Novalee, listen to me. The man is wild about you. He comes alive when he's with you."

"You're talking crazy."

"No! I see it . . . I watch him when you're around. He thinks everything you say is wonderful. He loves the way you walk, the way you smell. He loves your hair, your skin, your little b.o.o.bs . . ."

"Lexie, Forney's not like us."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, he's different. His people were educated. They had money.

Lexie, Forney lived in a house with a parlor. I've never even known anyone who said said 'parlor.'" 'parlor.'"

"I've said 'parlor.'"

"He's been to Europe. He's studied music. He speaks three languages!"

"So what do you mean he's not like us?"

"Lexie, I'm here, in this town, because a guy threw me away like a piece of trash. I'm poor and I'm ignorant and-"

248.

"You're not ignorant. You know things. You read more'n anyone I know."

"I could read three books a day and I'd never know what Forney knows. I'd never be able to talk to him about great ideas or-"

"Novalee, will you listen to what you're saying. A man can't love you because you haven't read as many books as he has? He can't love you because you don't speak French or because you don't go to operas? You're telling me we have to fall in love with people who are just like us?"

"No, not exactly."