For Keeps (Aggie's Inheritance) (23 page)


Why has a six year old had general science? Computer lab? What
--”
The man frowned.

Who is Vanora Cheyenne Stuart?


How did Vannie’s
--”
Aggie opened Vannie’s folder and found Tavish’s report card, Vannie’s vaccination records, and Kenzie’s birth certificate.

What
--”
She stopped herself short.

I think I need to let you help someone else and go sort this. I’ve apparently had ‘help’ with my paperwork. Everything is all mixed up.


Since we have to go through everything anyway, just keep filling out the papers
,
and I’ll find what I need.

A twitch around Principal Beaudine’s mustache was lost on Aggie, but Nate grinned at the teacher helping him. School wasn’t going to be dull with Aggie and her clan there.

After several long minutes, Aggie pushed her forms across the table.

Ok. I think I got them all.

The principal passed several packets to her, and with his pen, pointed to the sheet clipped to the front of each one.

I put Elspeth and Tavish in separate fourth grade classrooms.

Aggie nodded.

MacKenzie, I put in Mrs. Liszak’s room. She’s one of our most beloved teachers, and her class is small
,
so MacKenzie will get the kind of individualized attention that she likely misses in such a large family. Just follow the directions to each classroom to meet their teachers. Tavish’s teacher won’t be in his room until after noon. He’s over there at table five.

Still stunned by the assumption that Kenzie was craving personal attention, Aggie nodded, fought back angry tears, and thanked the principal for his time and help. As she walked away, she heard him mutter to the teacher helping at Nate’s recently vacated table,

That is going to be a problem household; we’ll have to keep an eye on them.

For just a moment, she had the wild temptation to storm back to the table, grab the enrollment forms, and run from the building. Into what kind of hostile environment had she just enrolled the children? It seemed as if the principal was predisposed to dislike her and her children simply because of their numbers. Similar thoughts troubled her all the way to Kenzie’s and Ellie’s classrooms.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Exhausted, Aggie collapsed on the couch, a stack of folders, packets, envelopes, and her own files sliding every which way
.

Enrolling children is a full
time job. I am so glad I won’t have to do
that
again.

Tina dropped Ian in her lap and then began stacking paperwork.

No, but you’ll get to do class assignments for high school for the next thirteen or fourteen years. Yay for you.

That thought nearly sent Aggie over the edge. After the day she’d had, nothing sounded worse than trying to juggle biology and driver’s ed. in the same year.

Well, at least we’re good until next year on that, eh? Laird and Vannie are at the middle school, but they ride the same bus as the others. I thought that was good. No worries about bullying with your older siblings there, right?


Speaking of older siblings, I think Vannie needs help with the skirt she’s working on. She ripped out a zipper three times this afternoon.


Where is she now?


I took her and Laird to a movie. We just got in before you did.


What movie?


The dollar theater was still playing the adaptation of
The Lost Princess
, so they went there. They said they hadn’t seen it…


That sounds good. I should have thought about taking them to a movie.

She grunted as Ian used her stomach for a trampoline.

Or bowling, or put
t
-put
t
golf, or the zoo…


You’ve been busy, girl!


I’m a mother. I don’t get these days back just because the back porch needs the rail fixed or the toilet overflows.


I think,

Tina began carefully,

it might be smart if you spent more time concentrating on whatever God puts in your way next, rather than whining about your perceived failures.

At Aggie’s attempted protest, she added,

For example, how often did Allie take them to the movies, the bowling alley, swimming at the public pool, or the zoo?


I don’t know. Isn’t that what moms do?


Your mom never did.

Aggie sighed.

I know, and I understood, I did. I just never wanted to be that mom.


What if you had a heart condition like your mom? Would you still feel like a failure for not being able to do everything Polly Perfect does?


But I don’t
--”

Before Tina could argue further, Tavish burst into the house staggering under the bulk and weight of a large box.

Look what I found! This truck just drove by, and this box fell off. The guy saw it, slowed down, and then took off!

A suspicious yelp and whimper seemed to echo from the diaper box t
he boy held.

Did I just hear
--”


Puppies!

Tavish agreed, excitedly.

They’re so cute! Black with little white spots…

Heedless of the look of dismay on his aunt’s face, Tavish set the box on the floor and pulled out a pup.

Isn’t he
--”
the boy examined the underside for a moment.

Yeah, he cute?

As much as she resisted, Aggie felt herself being pulled into the vortex of puppy breath, bitty teeth, and yaps that would grow into loud and obnoxious barks.

Oh, he is cute, isn’t he!

She reached for the animal.

Tina snorted.

Sucker!


Just feel that fur…

Lost in the sensations of puppiness, Aggie asked,

So how many are there?


Six.

The record playing that moment of her life screeched to a halt.


Six! We cannot keep six puppies! I’ll have to call the pound.


No! Please, Aunt Aggie. I’ll find homes for them. The minute you call the pound, their days are numbered. Let me do it; I know I can!

Closing her eyes and ignoring Tina’s shaking head, and much against her better judgment, Aggie nodded.

If you don’t show progress in a week, I’m calling, though.

In a display of affection and excitement she hadn’t seen from him, Tavish grabbed her, hugged her, took the puppy, and almost ran through the house with the wobbling box in his arms, shouting to the children to come see. Tina shook her head.

Do you have any idea what you just got suckered into?


I have a feeling you do.


Eight kids weren’t enough? You needed a half a dozen puppies to make your life really interesting?

 

 

Wednesday, August 20
th

 

Sluggish from another night of serenades from crying puppies, Aggie stumbled down the stairs, anxious for a cup of coffee. A glance at the clock told her she could have stayed in bed another half-hour at least, but Aggie had given up. The puppies had to go; she just didn’t know how to tell Tavish. Laird and Vannie had plastered the town with signs, Tina put an advertisement in the local sales sheet, and Tavish had plans to take the wagon and drag the puppies door to door to find them homes. If they weren’t successful by the end of the day, she was calling the pound.

One look at Tavish’s hopeful face weakened her resolve. After breakfast, he gave each puppy a bath and towel-dried them, leaving water and a laundry load of dirty towels strewn from the bathroom, through the mudroom, and outside, and then loaded the wagon into the van. She’d expected him to walk up and down the streets of Brant’s Corners, but when she climbed into the van after him, he announced that Brunswick had more houses and therefore a better chance at finding homes.

Aggie spent most of the time trying to keep the puppies in the wagon while Tavish wheedled men and women alike. He sounded like a spokesperson for the SPCA as he railed at the cruelty of someone abandoning puppies in the middle of the highway and the responsibility of humans to care for God’s creatures.

After several streets of consistent rejection, Aggie loaded them up and drove to Wal-Mart. There she purchased six small bags of dog food, six puppy collars and leashes, and a bag of chew toys. Surely, people would be less resistant if the initial needs were provided. Back they drove to the same neighborhood and started on the next street. Now Tavish sounded like a combination snake-oil hawker and missionary to lost puppies.

The mission became a comedy of errors at one home. It looked innocent enough. Yellow house, white shutters, white picket fence
--
it didn’t get much more all-American than that house. The door opened, and chaos erupted. Five cats streamed out of the house, one after the other, and the last was skittish. It took one look at the puppy in Tavish’s arms and jumped into Tavish’s arms, sinking its claws into the poor puppy’s back. Tavish yelped, the puppy screeched, and the woman who opened the door screamed.


Get that filthy animal off my porch! Oh, poor Penelope! Here, baby, I’ll protect you from the bad dog.

She glared at Tavish as she pulled her cat from the writhing puppy’s back.

Shame on you! How dare you bring your flea-bag dog to my house. Get out of here! Shoo!

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