From the Relief Society Magazine, September 1957 –

The Heavenly Bonus

By Rosa Lee Lloyd

Kallie’s dark brows puckered thoughtfully as she sat at her desk looking through the files of the Bay View Club Heart Drive.

Cliff would be home any minute now, and what would he say when she told him she was the newly appointed captain of the Drive beginning tomorrow?

He would be proud of her, no doubt, because it was an honor to be captain, but he would be amused, too. Cliff always saw the funny side of everything, and he would think it was very funny for Kallie to expect people to have money put away for a heart drive when she and Cliff were always on the slippery side of their budget.

An ironic smile pouted her lips as her fingers went through the cards from the Maple Street district where she and Marge Johnson, her first lieutenant, would canvass tomorrow. The Richard Starks had given ten dollars last year, and even dear old Mrs. Heaslip who lived next door to the Starks had given five dollars.

How did they manage? Kallie wondered as she closed the file. How did they do it? She and Cliff never had a cent left over, not even enough for a little nest egg in the bank, and that had always been her dream— a nest egg.

She heard Cliff’s key in the lock, and she stood up and hurried to meet him. Her heart bounced high the minute she looked at him. His blue eyes were shining, his red hair was ruffled, and he danced her around the living room while he whistled the catchy new polka they had learned at the dance at Mutual last night.

Cliff was a cut-up at home, and Kallie often wondered what he used for dignity in the stuffy law offices of Allen, Burk, and Edwards where he was the junior partner.

He swung her onto the sofa and flopped down beside her, his bright head in her lap.

“Oh, Mr. Edwards,” she laughed, out of breath. “My heart— it’s offbeat!”

“Well, now, Mrs. Edwards, I think you’ll live till morning — at least stay around until you hear the good news!”

He stood up, buttoned his coat, smoothed his riotous hair, and looked down at her with elaborate solemnity.

“Madame, you are now looking at a gentleman who has just received a bonus of one hundred dollars from Mrs. Jasmine Clipper.”

“The estate you took care of!” Kallie exclaimed.

“The same, my love. Now this little bonus” Cliff tapped his pocket, “was given to me because the family thinks I did a good job.”

He did a rapid tap dance, rubbed his hands together, and beamed down at her.

“So, as your legal adviser, let me recommend a vacation. First, we’ll celebrate our wedding anniversary ‘which begins Thursday night . . . .”

Suddenly his eyes were wistful, and he sat down beside her again, cuddling her close in his arms.

“Remember, darling, a year ago at the reception. There you were standing beside me so little and yet so queenly. That lovely little thing, I kept telling myself, is now my wife.”

His kiss was warm and very tender, and Kallie thought how kind and considerate he was. But he was impulsive, too, and headstrong and a little bit careless when it came to money. They still owed some on their furniture and the refrigerator, and yet he was planning to spend this extra hundred dollars on a vacation! She couldn’t let him do it. She just wouldn’t!

They should put this money away for a nest egg, Kallie decided, hoping she could think of some way to convince him without a quarrel. They had only quarreled twice since their marriage, and both times it had been over money; once when Cliff brought home the expensive plant she had admired in the window while they were out for a stroll. Her eyes went to it now in its gorgeous copper container. The purchase of it had meant economizing for a month.

And the other time, oh, it was so silly Kallie didn’t even want to remember how cross she had been when Cliff paid thirty-five dollars for a fishing rod and reel. And then they hadn’t been able to afford the trip!

She could feel Cliff’s arms tighten around her now. She pressed her head against his tweedy shoulder. She loved him so. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for Cliff, no sacrifice she wouldn’t make for him. But she had to make him realize how important it was to put this money in the bank.

“Cliff— listen …” she began.

“Oh, no, you listen to me, sweetheart. Hear that musical ripple? That’s mountain water bubbling over pretty rocks. Now look closely. See those shiny trout darting around down there? Um-m. Smell those big pine trees, and feel that good earth under your feet. We’ll have one week of rest, melting in the bright Wyoming sunshine, fishing all day and eating at the Wagon Wheel Inn in the cool, cool evening. For seven long beautiful days we’ll forget the budget and the stuffy office. Seven days of sun and stars and fishing. Boy, how we need it. No office routine, no dishes for you, no pinching pennies . . . .”

“I don’t mind pinching pennies. Cliff,” Kallie interrupted.

Cliff patted her head.

“You’re sweet, Kal. But I’ve heard women complain.”

Kallie sat up. Her dark eyes were very bright.

“Look here. Cliff Edwards. If you’re planning a fishing trip because you think I’m tired of keeping house you’re very wrong. Very wrong.”

He pulled her back into the circle of his arm.

“I’m not through dreaming. Now look, pretend this is the menu at the Wagon Wheel Inn. Suppose we order trout for breakfast, and the lobster thermador for luncheon and a big steak for dinner. Or would you like a salad with special sauce?”

Kallie’s mouth folded in.

“If you don’t mind,” she said significantly, “I’d like the hundred dollar bill on the half-shell, just served plain as a nest egg, without sauce!”

The silence was awful. Cliff drew his breath in and held it tightly. Then he leaned back against the lounge as though he was suddenly tired. Even his bright hair seemed to wilt down over his ears, and the gay, expectant twinkle went out of his eyes.

“Say that again,” he said.

His voice was shocked and unbelieving like a little boy who has just been told that the circus isn’t coming to town.

“Maybe I didn’t hear you right, honey — the part about wanting it for a nest egg. Do you really mean it? Because if you do— it’s all yours —you know that. Anything I have is yours — anytime.”

Kallie felt a stinging behind her eyes. But she was determined. One of them had to be sensible.

“Oh, Cliff— it’s just that I worry sometimes — because we’re not saving anything.”

“We’re keeping up insurance,” he reminded her. “We’re paying our tithing regularly. We’re buying a bond— we’re paying taxes. But if it’s a nest egg you want— okay.”

Some of the blue sparkle came back to his eyes as he opened his wallet, took out the hundred dollar bill, and handed it to her.

Kallie stared at the picture of Benjamin Franklin in the center of it. It’s a brand new bill, she thought. No doubt this was only small change to Jasmine. She couldn’t have known that it would be a small fortune to Kallie and Cliff— that it was the difference between living on a budget and being a young couple with money in the bank.

“Well — it was fun, while it lasted,” Cliff said as he stood up. He squared his shoulders and Kallie noticed again how tired and shaggy he looked. “Brother!” he went on, “what a flop I’d be without my imagination! Now, tell me, what’s for dinner? No . . . .” He put his hand up. “Don’t tell me— let me guess. . . .” He sniffed the air. “Sauerkraut and franks,” he added, dismally.

Kallie ignored the downbeat in his voice. She stood up, too, smoothing her hair.

“And now let me tell you some big news,”she said spiritedly. “You are looking at the new captain of the Bay View Heart Drive, Mrs. Clifford B. Edwards— twice lieutenant, twice high score, and now captain. Beginning tomorrow Marge Johnson and I canvass our district.”

Cliff began to laugh. He put his hands on her shoulders and rocked with laughter.

“Someone is going to dig deep,” he guffawed. “Scotchy Edwards on the job. Please, Mrs. Hoozit,” he mimicked in a high falsetto, “can you let us have ten dollars for the Drive? Oh, I know money is as tight as pinfeathers, but think how noble you’ll feel, Mrs. Hoozit, if you give us ten dollars. …”

Kallie wanted to cry. Cliff could be so exasperating!

“Oh, you!” she burst out. “Don’t be so funny. You should be proud of me.”

She pushed her way past him to the kitchen.

“Let’s eat,” he said, heading toward the dinette, picking up the evening paper on his way.

She turned around.

“You don’t need to bite my head off,” she said.

Cliff looked down at her. His eyes had a peculiar, speculative twinkle.

“No— I don’t need to bite your head off— but it might taste better than sauerkraut.”

Something was wrong, Kallie thought. Some magic had gone from the evening, some lovely warm feeling had disappeared— where or how — she didn’t know. Now there was just a hungry husband who wasn’t too pleased with sauerkraut and frankfurters, and who ate in a moody silence, his eyes glued to the sport page of the evening paper.

At ten-thirty the next morning, Kallie waited on the drugstore corner for Marge Johnson. Marge was a swell companion for a job like this, sturdy, rosy-cheeked, dependable Marge. She wasn’t easily discouraged, Kallie thought gratefully, remembering last year when some of the girls were ready to give up when the Drive was half over.

She sighed now, thinking how every day of life took a little more courage and grit. If she had given in to the way she felt this morning, she would still be in bed with the pillow over her head so nobody could see she had been crying. Because she had cried in the middle of the night. Lying there beside Cliff as he tossed and turned and mumbled in his sleep, she had felt disturbed and restless, too. So she had pulled the pillow over her head and cried silently because Cliff needed a vacation and because, she added, feeling almost sick, she wouldn’t break that hundred dollar bill. That was going in the bank. They had to have a nest egg.

Marge turned the corner, looking as fresh and eager as a girl scout. “Whew! Did I have to hurry,” she laughed as they fell in step and hurried down Maple Street.

Kallie drew a long breath. She had to put her heart into this campaign. The Bay View Club expected her to make an outstanding record in this district.

“If I do say so, Kallie,” Marge was saying, “I’m proud to be your first lieutenant. You were really tops last year.”

“Here’s our first prospect,” Kallie said, “1080 Maple Street. Let’s see what the book says.”

She looked at her notes. “Mr. and Mrs. Richard Stark. He’s a bank clerk. They gave ten dollars last year— they live on the east side of this duplex.”

Marge rang the bell but there was no answer. The house seemed dead inside. They were walking back down the porch steps when they noticed a note stuck in the mailbox.

“Guess this is for anybody,” Kallie said, reaching for it.

“Dear Postman,” she read, “we don’t live here anymore. Mr. Stark’s address is the Bekins Hotel and mine is Carol Ridgeway Stark, Denver, Colorado.”

Kallie’s throat tightened. The Starks had broken up. But why? What had they quarreled about? Could it have been over money? she wondered with a sick feeling.

“Sounds like trouble,” Marge said. “Makes me feel— sort of sad.”

“Me, too,” Kallie agreed. “And besides— that’s ten dollars we won’t collect.”

Marge sighed.

“You get to know so many people doing this, all kinds, and their troubles — but you can’t let it bother you.”

“No— not too much. But it’s hard not to.”

They stopped in front of the next house.

“Mrs. Heaslip lives here,” Kallie told Marge. “She’s seventy-five — lost her husband a few years ago— she lives on a pension. She’s such a sweet little thing I love to call on her. She’ll have a cookie or something ready for us. And she gave five dollars last year.”

“Does she live here all alone?” Marge wanted to know as they walked down the narrow path between the rosebushes leading to a small house. A lilac bush was a splash of purple at the side of the porch, and a little hose, spouting water, twirled gaily on the apron-sized lawn.

“All alone,” Kallie answered.

The front door was open, and as they stepped onto the porch, a flutey little voice called: “Who is it, please?”

“Hello, Mrs. Heaslip,” Kallie called back. “It’s Mrs. Edwards of the Heart Drive — it’s our annual call, remember?”

“Bless you, I do remember, Mrs. Edwards. Come right in.”

Mrs. Heaslip came to the door, and Kallie thought how dainty she looked this morning. Her white hair was neatly curled and a little lace collar matched her apron.

“This is Mrs. Johnson,” Kallie said.

“My! You do look pretty, both of you.” Mrs. Heaslip motioned for them to sit down. “Now, do stay long enough for a glass of milk. I always have one about this time every morning.”

“We’d love to, Mrs. Heaslip,” Kallie said. “I told Marge about your cookies, that special kind with brown sugar.”

Mrs. Heaslip beamed. “Well, that’s nice. Now first we’ll take care of our business.”

She walked to the bookcase, lifted an old volume of poetry, opened it and took out a five-dollar bill.

“I had it put away for you,” she said, handing it to Kallie. Her eyes had mischievous little sparks in them. “You both make yourselves at home while I get the cookies.”

Marge leaned back in the old rocker, picked up a magazine, and began to read.

But Kallie couldn’t relax. She sat very straight on the edge of her chair, folded the bill thoughtfully, and put it in her purse. Then she wrote a receipt for the five dollars, asked Marge to excuse her, and hurried out to the kitchen with it. She wanted to talk to Mrs. Heaslip about so many things because she was so wise and understanding.

She hesitated in the doorway, watching Mrs. Heaslip take the golden brown cookies from an old china jar and put them on a small silver tray.

“Mrs. Heaslip,” she began. “I was just wondering— what happened to the Starks, next door?”

Mrs. Heaslip edged another cookie on the tray and dusted her hands on her apron.

“Well, now, honey,” she said very gently. “I really don’t know. Maybe they didn’t take the time to get along together.”

Kallie swallowed hard.

“Was it— over money?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Mrs. Heaslip puckered her lips and shook her head.

“I really don’t know. …” She

looked at Kallie with eves as clear and blue as the morning sky.

Kallie bit her lip. “I just wondered,’ she said. “I thought— maybe— other people had troubles— like mine. …”

Mrs. Heaslip’s eyes narrowed as she motioned her toward a chair near the table.

“Sit down, pet,” she said, and her voice caressed her like a soft wind. “You’ve got a worn-. You look real sad this morning, Mrs. Edwards. Would vou like to tell me about it?

“Yes— yes— I would. Mrs. Heaslip. Really— it seems so silly when you say it out loud— but it’s so serious to me. It’s about my husband — and some money”

Kallie knew she could trust Mrs. Heaslip, and almost breathlessly she was unloading her heart: she told her about the bonus and Cliff wanting to spend it all for a fishing trip, and how she had asked him to give her the money, instead, because she knew Cliff would spend it all.

Mrs. Heaslip listened without interrupting. Her hands were busy pouring tall glasses of fresh milk. But there was a faraway look m her eyes and a perky little smile made her mouth young again around the edges.

“Ill be right back,” she said and disappeared into her bedroom. She returned in a second with a rare old figurine in her hands.

“Mv Charlie bought me this,” she said significantly, her eyes holding Kallie’s steadily. “I didn’t think he could afford it at the time. He bought it fifty years ago when we were on one of our holidays.”

Kallie couldn’t answer. She sat there quietly looking at the figurine as Mrs. Heaslip put it on the table between them. She dusted it carefully with a napkin.

“I’ll tell you about Charlie,” she said, “because it might help vou to make allowances for your own husband. That’s one way to learn things— from each other.”

She stopped talking and Kallie touched her hand, eagerly.

“Do tell me,” she coaxed.

“We lived in Park City.” Mrs. Heaslip went on. “Charlie was a miner. Worked long hours down there in a dark mine. But you never saw a man love light and beauty more than Charlie did. And fun! He could work right along with the steadiest of them for a spell, then he just had to have a holiday in the sun.

A smile gentled her mouth and she sat thoughtfully a moment.

“Funny thing how Charlie always got a little extra money for his holiday. He always said the Lord gave it to him, and it did look that way. He used to call it his heavenly bonus, We’d be scrimping and saving to live within our income and then out of nowhere some extra money would come to Charlie!”

Mrs. Heaslip’s smile was very wise.

“It never occurred to him to put some of it away, but I always held out for tithing and fast offering and twenty per cent in the bank. But I agreed on the holiday. Most men who work as hard as Charlie have to have a vacation every so often.

He liked to ride and hike in the sun. It seemed to give him a fresh start.”

Kallie’s throat pinched in as she thought how Cliff loved the sun, too.

“Charlie had his faults,” Mrs. Heaslip went on dreamily. “He spent money too freely, and his temper got edgy after he’d worked too hard, but he always took me on the vacations with him.”

She touched the figurine, turning it so the morning sun shone on it. Her fingers caressed it.

“Marriage is a give and take,” she said softly. “But it’s worth it. My husband was a fine man. We couldn’t save a lot of money, just our insurance and the twenty per cent I set by, but our vacations kept us well and strong. ‘When we’re old,’ Charlie used to say, ‘we’ll look back and remember them.’ And we did just that.”

Mrs. Heaslip quit talking and Kallie touched her hand gratefully. They sat there quietly without speaking for a moment. The old-fashioned clock in the hallway chimed eleven o’clock. Cliff would be working hard now on a new case, she thought with a sigh. He had worked steadily ever since they had been married without a change of any kind. He had spent long hours at night searching through stuffy old law books. The senior members had given him most of the tedious work because he was the new member. He did need a vacation, she conceded achingly. Heavenly Father must have known that he needed one when he gave him the hundred dollar bill. And she would be contented if they saved twenty per cent.

“Mrs. Heaslip,” she said, getting to her feet, “may I use your phone? I want to call Cliff.”

“Of course, dear,” she answered. “It’s in the hall.”

Kallie turned at the doorway, smiling over her shoulder at Mrs. Heaslip.

“I want you to meet my husband when we come back from our fishing trip,” she said. “He’s a very wonderful man.”

Mrs. Heaslip smiled and her blue eyes were twinkling.

“Husbands are very wonderful people,” she murmured. “Don’t you ever forget that, young lady!”