More Than Lemonade

Prompt: Begin your story with “It was the hottest day of the year…”

More than Lemonade

It was the hottest day of the year. No one in their right mind had ventured outside. It was so oppressively hot and humid even the distant snow capped mountain tops were crying out as their snow melted away. My hearty lavender plants were becoming instant sachet packets. Still I had to get out. I had been cooped up inside wallowing in my sadness for weeks now. Time for a walk around the neighborhood. Even with the oppressive heat I would not part with my keepsake knitted cap that had been made expressly for me. As I walked down my street most everyone knew the reason I wore the cap even during the dog days of summer. When I left the confines of my neighborhood, however, I would be met with quizzical looks and silly gazes. But on this day, there was no one around to offer their commentary on my head covering.

You would be right in saying I was foolish to wear it on such a day. Perspiration poured down my face like a water faucet. I made doubly sure I stayed well hydrated. Well into my walk, however, I realized that my water bottle was nearly running out. I had meandered over a mile away from my house.

Turning down a corner to another street I eyed an oasis for my parched throat. A small lemonade stand stood under a large oak tree in front of an old brownstone. I was unsure where in the neighborhood I actually was. Sitting patiently under an umbrella was a little girl outfitted in a yellow sun dress. Her curly auburn hair, hazel eyes and rosy cheeks reminded me of someone I knew. I could not remember who however. As I approached her the interrogation process began. I guessed she was eight-years old and one of those precious souls who just had to know about my cap. She asked, “Hey Mister your cap looks so beautiful.”

I responded, “Thanks and what is your name?” She replied, “My name is Anabel. I like lots of colors and your cap looks like a rainbow. Did you make it yourself? Did you find a pot of gold at the end of your rainbow?” as she said smiling at me ear to ear.I caught myself because I almost quipped “your dress makes you look like a lemon for your lemonade stand,” but I held my tongue.

I said to her, “Anabel you are so perceptive. My name is Dave. Now how about a glass of that delicious lemonade? As to my pot of gold, I am still looking for it. The person who made it for me hoped I would find it before I would wear it out. Do you have a little time to hear my story?”

She replied, “I normally do not talk to strangers, but my house is right here by the oak tree. So I guess it would be okay as long as my nana can still see me. Please sit on the bench under the tree. Maybe I can give you some therapy along with my wonderful lemony lemonade.”

“Oh that will be just fine,” I said amused. I wondered if she actually had an office downtown for her real patients. I continued, “In fact, how about I buy you out of all your lemonade in that large pitcher,” I said. “It will be our little therapeutic lemonade party. How much do you charge for a pitcher?” Anabel raised her eyebrows and with a devious smile said “$50.”

“Hmmm, sounds a bit pricey for a first-time client,” I replied. Then Anabel quickly said, “For you $5; a special price.” I scratched my head as I pulled out my wallet. I pulled out a $20 bill telling her to keep the change. I reminded her part of our bargain was to listen to my story in its entirety.

I resumed our conversation by asking, “Anabel, have you had many customers this morning? I would not want to take too much of your time away from your other clients.”

She giggled and politely replied, “Mr. Dave, you are my first client. It has been a slow day. You would think people would be so thirsty! With the sidewalk so scorching hot, I might as well take my leftover lemons and bake a lemon pie out of them.” Anabel chuckled at her own joke.

Surprisingly, Anabel took charge of our discussion. “So, Mr. Dave, tell me a little bit about yourself. Are you heading to the store? Are you visiting someone? Are you really looking for that pot of gold at the end of your rainbow cap? Do you live around here? Are you married?”

I gestured with my hand to stop her. “Anabel, you ask so many good questions. My answers might require another purchase of another pitcher of your homemade lemonade.”

Enthusiastically, Anabel grabbed a half dozen lemons and a large thermos of water in preparation for my story. She placed them on the table and giggled, “I am ready for you, Mr. Dave. Give me the facts, and nothing but the facts.” She smiled showing the space where her new front teeth were starting to appear.

“Okay then. I live in a townhouse a mile or so away from here with my momma.” Anabel raised her eyebrows saying, “why do you live with her?”

“Good question,” I said. “My momma became sick. She was having a hard time taking care of herself and she needed me to take her to her doctors’ appointments at the hospital infusion center. So for the last several months I would drive her to there to get her treatments and wait with her while she got her medicine.”

Anabel sadly replied, “Oh, Mr. Dave I am so sorry to hear that your momma is sick. I hope she gets better real soon. My nana says we should pray really hard for sick people. My momma was really sick and nana said momma had cancer. She went to the hospital to get medicine.” Anabel sobbed as she added, “Momma was so sick she had to stay there. Then one day she went home to Jesus before I could say good-bye.”

I swallowed hard as I said, “Anabel I am so sorry that your momma didn’t get better. My momma didn’t get better either.”

Then, after a moment of silence, Anabel said, “Mr. Dave, no need to feel bad! Our mommas are friends now and are also with my daddy. They all are with Jesus. Nana says momma and daddy no longer have pain or tears in heaven.”

The pungency of the lemons and the saltiness of my sweat caused tears to well up in my eyes. I said, “Anabel, while my momma was at the hospital, I met someone there who also was getting the same treatments like my momma. She said her name was Therese. When my momma often drifted off to sleep, Therese and I shared lots of feelings and dreams. She shared she had a lovely daughter named Belle. Was that you? Was your momma’s name Therese?”

Anabel had a surprised look on her face. In a squeaky pitched voice, she exclaimed, “Yes, that is my momma’s name. My daddy had called her Terrie. And my shortened name is Belle!”

Then like a bolt of lightning I saw the resemblance of Therese in Anabel’s face. I simultaneously heaved sobs of sadness and joy to the point where I could barely breathe. Once I calmed myself, I said, “Anabel, your momma knitted me this hat. My rainbow hat as you call it. She had finished it about a week before she fell asleep in Jesus. Your momma was such a kind, special person. I miss her as I know you must too.”

With saucer-like eyes, Anabel asked me, “Did you find the pot of gold?”

Taking my cap off and handing it to her I said, “Yes, Belle I did. You are my pot of gold.”

We hugged and celebrated by gulping down the last of our lemonade.

-END-

When I see the rainbow in the clouds, I will remember the eternal covenant between God and every living creature on earth. (Genesis 9:16, NLT)

All around Him was a glowing halo, like a rainbow shining in the clouds on a rainy day. This is what the glory of the Lord looked like to me. When I saw it, I fell face down on the ground, and I heard someone’s voice speaking to me. (Ezekiel 1:28, NLT)

I heard a loud shout from the throne, saying, “Look, God’s home is now among his people! He will live with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.” (Revelation 21:3-4, NLT)

NLT-New Living Translation Bible

Author: Pete Gautchier

Acknowledgement:Reedsy.com Prompts