Schifflebein's Folly

CHAPTER 14: SOMETHING BLUE

The Schifflebein family band could be heard through the Bates house open windows as they rehearsed "I'm A Little Teapot" in Charley's living room. Outside in the garden, camouflaged by the late afternoon shadows, Lloyd slumped in a corner of Charley's folly and listened wistfully to his children. It was Thursday, August 14th, and by this time tomorrow they might no longer be his children. By then Charley would be Mrs. Dan Perlman. And Lloyd would be ... he couldn't even imagine what or how he would be. His mind refused to travel more than a few hours along the future's dark path.

His spirit prayed with silent, desperate howls because his intellect could not put words or thoughts together beyond Help! Help! Please help!

He felt far removed from his benevolent God, yet he knew God had not moved away, had not gone to sleep, had not forgotten, had not stopped loving Lloyd or the children, or even Charley. He knew the terror and grief that overwhelmed him was not from God, but Lloyd was helpless to lift himself out of his pit of despondency. It didn't matter who had dug the pit – whether unfortunate circumstances, immoral politicians, incompetent bureaucrats, illicit conspiracies, or unfair business practices – Lloyd was at the bottom of the hole, powerless and without a plan.

Never before had Lloyd faced a situation in which his physical strength, mental quickness, or carefully thorough preparations could not carry the day. Since childhood Lloyd had always made his plans and patiently worked to accomplish short- and long-range goals, refusing to be discouraged or denied.

So, what was different now?

Had Lloyd allowed too many variables into his life when he added six beloved children and the dream of a wife into his sphere? He had read that children were "hostages to fortune," and intellectually he understood that philosophy. Was he to understand it empirically at long last? Even if that were true, he refused to even think the word "mistake" or "error" with regard to those seven souls to whom he had pledged his heart.

He examined his heart as honestly as possible, searching for selfish motives, conditional love, desires to control or to be hero-worshiped. He found none of that. The only desires he found were for the health, safety, and happiness of Ray and Amy, Rudy and Lucy, Tran and Nguyen, even Charley. If they would be better off with someone else, even if it left him alone, he would accept that.

He simply couldn't believe it, however.

Supernatural assurance had surrounded Lloyd Schifflebein since the day in his early teens when he realized, calmly, that no divinely-inspired couple would ever appear to adopt him into their warm, sunny, house full of hugs and homemade cookies. Lloyd's joy and comfort from that day forward had been his absolute certainty that he was going to provide that home for six very special children someday.

He had been a child, so he thought first, always, of children like himself. As he grew to adulthood, he realized that his promised family must also, at some point, include a helpmate and mother figure to complement the father Lloyd would become. The timeline was unclear, but the promise was not. He did not know when she would appear, only that she would.

Now, having met the woman to whom he knew his heart would always belong, he was confused and stricken to think that it could be too late. That she could be promised to another. That he could lose not only the mother for his children, but his children as well, when all had been so long promised. When until a few days earlier, all the promised blessings had indeed been under his roof, or – in Charley's case – very near it.

Yes, Lloyd had always had a philosophy, always had a plan, always had a faith. Until today. Today he had confusion and he had pain. His throat burned, his eyes watered, and his chest ached. All he had left was his spirit groaning like a motor idling faintly in a fog, Help! Help! Oh, please, help!

The music from Charley's window stopped. Lloyd absently wiped his eyes as he heard Charley telling the children, "That'll do it for today. I'm proud of you for practicing every day while I've been busy elsewhere this week."

Then, ignoring the potential changes in all their lives in the coming twenty-four hours, she added, "I think we'll start a new piece on Monday. Give you some variety in your repertoire."

"We don't know where we'll be on Monday," sweet, sensible Lucy told her. "We don't even know where we'll be after tomorrow."

"Don't be silly, we'll all be right here. I refuse to think anything else."

Lloyd mentally kissed Charley for keeping the faith. He nearly smiled while he listened to chairs scraping, instrument cases snapping shut, and papers rustling as the children put things away and prepared to depart.

"Hurry along, now," he heard Charley say. "Mrs. Stoner will be waiting dinner for you."

Lloyd hung back in the shadows of the garden folly and watched as Charley walked his beautiful children out to her front gate and gave each of them a hug. Then the children walked homeward on the neighborhood sidewalk.

Charley stood at her gate, holding herself with crossed arms and watching the departing children.

Lloyd raised himself from the shadowed seat to stand in the slanting sunlight. He spoke softly, "Hello, Charlotte Bates."

She turned toward him, and he saw tears standing in her eyes. She walked toward the folly.

Lloyd gestured around him at the folly. "Came to get a closer look, like you said. The detail work is very nice."

"Thanks, but you should be resting. You'll probably work all night again tonight."

He shook his head and sat down again inside the folly. Charley approached and sat near him, but not close enough to touch.

"Everything's finished but the actual installation," said Lloyd. "And you were right, of course. I couldn't do that in the time I've got left unless there were twelve of me." He scoffed. "Even if I'm as crazy as they say I am, I know there aren't twelve of me."

He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small, soft package. He placed it on the surface of the bench between them. "I made you a wedding present."

Gingerly, she picked up the package and unwrapped it. It was a pale blue, lace-edged handkerchief with her initials embroidered:

C P B

"C.B.P. for Charlotte Bates Perlman, but with the 'P' in the middle, for the surname," he said, as if she couldn't read it for herself.

Charley caressed the embroidered letters with her fingertips.

"Something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. Isn't that how it goes?" he said.

"When did you have time to do embroidery?"

"A little here, a little there," he said. "You make time for the important stuff."

Abruptly, he stood and began backing away. "Anyway," he said, "all the best to you and Dandy Dan tomorrow. And thanks for all you've done – for the kids and for ... uh ... for the kids and for me. You'll be a beautiful bride, Charlotte Bates. Dan Perlman is a lucky man."

Charley stood and would have reached toward him, but he was gone before she could take two steps. Clutching the blue handkerchief to her heart, she sank back down to sit again in the shadows of her folly.