Remembering Howard

“Welcome home, Ninny!” I plaster a fake smile on my face and hug my children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. I know they mean well, but this will never be home.

“Mama, we set you up in the main house for now. But at any time you would like to voice an opinion, we can move you,” William says. My eyes tear up at the twinkle of mischief in his eye that reminds me so much of his father.

“I don’t want to take up space. Wherever you put me is fine,” I answer as one of the twins takes my hand and leads me up the porch. Howie would’ve known which one it is, he was always better with differentiating details in all the kids. Shaking the thought of him from my head, I walk into the oversized farmhouse. Why they couldn’t have built their homestead on our little farm, I still don’t understand. Well, I guess I understand moving just me instead of all hundred seventy something of them. My heart clenches as if being strangled by an invisible fist; Howard would have been celebrating his one hundred and eightieth birthday this year.

“Ninny, Mommy let me help decorate your room!” Twin A says.

“Mighty kind of you, sweetheart. I’m sure I’ll love it.”

The door is rolled open and the squeak it emits has me gritting my teeth. “I’ll fix that right now, Mama. Don’t you worry,” Samuel says quickly and runs toward the kitchen. I wouldn’t mind if he didn’t bother, I doubt I’ll be opening it often enough for it to become a problem.

“Ta-da! What’cha think?” Twin B –or is it another set of twins ‘A’?-- yells then bounces into the den turned room.

Tears leak down my cheeks as I take in the space. Somehow, my boys have re-erected the great, king-size canopy bed that Howie built with his own two hands, made from the very tree we fell in love under. Paintings and photographs line the walls, but I only have eyes for one. The one. The one that started this entire family.

“Ninny Nell? Are you okay? Come sit,” Elizabeth, my first granddaughter, takes my elbow and deposits me in the rocking chair I rocked every single one of my seven children in. They don’t make things the way they used to. To last through time.

“Thank you, dear. It’s just more than I expected is all.” I can’t take my eyes from the painting of Howie and I hanging proudly above the dresser. “Who?” My voice catches in my throat and I wave toward the picture.

“Mammy,” Elizabeth answers. The room fills with my babies and my view is obstructed.

“Thank you, Bessie,” I say to my eldest daughter. She’s the spitting image of the girl on the swing.

“Of course, Mama. This is your home now and we all wanted it to feel as such,” Bessie answers, ducking her head. Poor child always was the shyest of the bunch. “Why don’t you settle in and rest.”

I nod my head and take the blanket offered by Ginger. I can remember her name easily enough, thank the Stars my youngest daughter’s daughter named the kid after her looks. The kids file out and I’m left staring at a memory of promises kept and hopes fulfilled.

Who knows how long later there’s a Squeak! My eyes dart to the door. “I’m on it, Ma!” one of my grandsons yell from somewhere in the house. I close my eyes and watch through slits as my great grandchildren pile into the room; tiptoeing and shushing each other.

Twelve little beings and another Squeak! before I pop my eyes open. A few jump back and one of them gasps. “Ninny, you sleepin’?” a toe-headed toddler asks, patting my knee sweetly.

“No, sir. Was just remembering.” I reach down and bring him up into my lap and begin to rock like I used to do with my babies. “What are you all doing?”

Ginger steps forward and smiles shyly. “Will you tell us the story? Please, Ninny?”

My eyes mist over and I take a few deep breaths. The toddler in my arms rubs my cheek and leans his head over my heart. Another breath to collect my emotions and I nod. “Alright. Everyone take a seat and get your listening ears on. This will be the last time I tell this story so you best remember it well so you can pass it on.”

One of the sets of twins ‘B’ raises her hand as she sits. I point a crooked finger at her. “Ninny, why will it be the last time?”

“Well, truthfully, I don’t think I’ll be around to tell it again.” I hold a hand up to keep the questions at bay. “All good things come to an end, children.”

A burly little boy with hair the same moppish brown as Howie says, “My dad said that we never have to be old. I heard him tell Gammy that you did it out of spite.”

I chuckle. If only that was true. “Next time you gain your father’s ear, you tell him that you can only fool your body for so long. The memories and years take a toll and if you don’t age you start to forget. I refuse to ever forget even a second of my life with my dear sweet Howie.”

The boy nods and I hope that the message was received. One day I pray my forever youthful children will have a precious moment that they are too afraid to lose and age appropriately to hold onto it. “Now if you’re all settled, I’ll begin.”

Nods and happy squeals accompany clapping. One stern look and there’s silence.

“Once upon a time–”

“Are you about to have us believe your story is a fairytale?” Katarina asks.

“Hush now. It’s my story and I’ll tell it how I want,” I snap.

“Sorry, Ninny,” Katarina whispers, hiding behind her brother’s shoulder.

The little boy in my lap pats my hand and nuzzles in closer. I rock him gently and begin again. “Once upon a time. The year was 1872 and I was on the brink of womanhood…”

My eyes narrow in on the painting and it’s like I’m back there.

The breeze flows over my exposed skin and through the sheer fabric of my dress. Butterflies follow me on the path through the gardens. I run my finger over the iris’ and smile to myself as bees fly towards their next nectar adventure. Tweeting of a robin catches my ear and I follow it off the path where the trees grow in clusters. I jump over a log before halting my pace. There’s a boy sitting in my swing!

“Who do you think you are?” I demand. His tanned skin makes me believe he must be one of the workers on Daddy’s farm.

“I’m Howard, at least I think I am. Am I mistaken?” His brown eyes twinkle with mischief and I’m taken aback by his audacity.

“Either you are or you aren’t. I’m gonna tell Daddy that you wandered,” I say, placing my hands on my hips.

“Ah, so you’re Minnie?” he asks. He brushes his curly brown locks behind an ear and I want to slap him silly.

“Minnie? No! I’m a woman, if you can’t tell. I’m Nellie. Minnie’s the baby of our family.” The corners of his mouth twitch and then raise. Too late I see he’s only been teasing me. Turning heel I march back toward the house, ignoring the beauty of spring showing itself.

Days turn to weeks and Howard has weaseled his way into my soul. I look forward to finding –and chastising– him at my swing every afternoon. I skip through the gardens as soon as my chores are done.

“Nell!” Howard greets as soon as I hop the log. There’s another man with him, setting up an easel.

“What’s this?” I ask, taking slow steps.

“This is Pierre. He’s an artist. Come, I have a surprise for you!” Howie holds his hand out to me as he sits on my swing. Without hesitation I grab a hold and place myself next to him. I look up into his handsome face and dream of our future together.

“Yes! Stay just like that!” Pierre yells. I forgot about him, ducking my head, I try to hide my blushing face. “No. No, pretend I’m not here and go back to staring adoringly at your love.”

“Nellie, do you love me?” Howie asks, bringing my attention back to him.

A breathy ‘yes’ escapes me.

“Forever?”

“Forever isn’t long enough,” I say.

“Well, how about forever and a day then?” Howie’s eyes glimmer and I lose myself.

“Every day and night. Forever and a day. I pledge myself to always be with you, Howard.”

“And I pledge to always be with you.”

“Ninny?” A little voice brings me back from the memory.

“Yes, Arthur?”

“Does that mean that Pappy broke his pledge?” Arthur asks, biting his lip.

I shake my head and Georgie –that’s his name– wipes a tear from my chin. “He was all full up with too many memories.” I look back at the painting. “Soon I will be too. Then we will be reunited in the beyond and the pledge will continue. It’s just a short pause, is all.”

Howie’s voice plays in my mind. “Forever and a day, my sweet. Press pause and then join me. We will relive every moment when we meet again. Promise me, Nell.”

“Forever and a day, my love,” I whisper. I kiss Georgie’s head and scoot him off me. “There’s your story, babies. Now, Ninny is tired from all this reminiscing. I love you all.”

One by one they give me a hug and kiss my cheeks. A last Squeak! and I’m alone. I kiss my fingertips and place it on Howie’s younger self before lying in our bed. I close my eyes and a smile takes over my face. Howie turns to me and holds a hand out the same way he did that beautiful spring day. “Come, I have a surprise for you.”

Latching onto his hand, I look up adoringly at him. “You’re surprise enough, my love.”