Ready or Not (Aggie's Inheritance) (69 page)

She swallowed hard, and Luke finished for her.

Because I wasn

t going to be here. I think William is just an introvert in an extroverted job. I was one less person to have to interact with on his vacation.


Should I have refused his offer?

Uncertainty tinged her voice. The last thing Aggie wanted to do was impose on anyone.


I think he would have been insulted.

Several minutes passed as Luke removed the burgers, toasted the buns, and piled everything on the platter in Aggie

s hands. Just as she

d decided he didn

t have anything else to add, Luke finally said,

In William

s job, he

s had to interact with your family, mostly in a professional capacity. I think, especially after Mrs. Dyke

s double-blind date, he needed time with everyone as a person rather than an officer.

The contrast, between Luke

s ease in her home and William

s avoidance of the interior whenever possible, was marked during and after dinner. While Aggie washed dishes in the laundry sink, Vannie and Laird scrubbed the walls and wiped down the new drywall with a tack cloth. Aggie planned to paint the first coat of primer that night when the kids were in bed, so no little fingers could mar it before it dried.

Luke, having missed the little ones, chased them on hands and knees and then retreated as quickly as possible before they piled on him in a fit of giggles and tickles. As much as she tried not to, Aggie couldn

t help but compare the stark differences between how each man related to her, her home, and her children. Some of it, she assumed, was William

s job. He was instinctively more protective, seeing things through eyes that likely had witnessed great suffering in his profession. Luke, from a stable and loving home with siblings, nieces, and nephews, was naturally more comfortable.

As another burst of giggles erupted at Luke

s crazy antics, Aggie decided that she needed to talk to Mrs. Dyke. If anyone could explain William

s behavior, she could.

Hey, I was wondering if you could stay a while. I really would love to go next door and visit with Mrs. Dyke.

Luke assured her he

d be happy to stay.

I

m glad I stopped by. I

ve missed these little guys.

He paused and then with a teasing glint in his eyes added,

Well, ok, ok, I

ve missed the older kids too.

Aggie stood, hands on hips, pretending to glare at him.

Ok, so maybe I

ve thought of you now and then.

Something in Luke

s tone unsettled her. Being on a mission, she didn

t have time to dissect her reaction. Instead, Aggie smiled at him and mouthed a thank-you before marching down her steps and across the road. Her shoulders were squared, her footsteps firm, and her hands clasped behind her back to hide her fidgeting. She succeeded only in advertising it to Luke and Vannie, watching from the screen door.

Mrs. Dyke stepped out onto her porch as Aggie reached the steps.

I

ve been wondering when you

d come to visit.

Somehow, Aggie knew that Mrs. Dyke had been expecting her to come for more than just a neighborly chat. She considered exchanging pleasantries but decided that directness was probably wisest.

Mrs. Dyke, I know you

ve known William for years. Please tell me what is hurting him. Is it me? The house? My kids? What is bothering him?

Mrs. Dyke was surprisingly silent. As she waited, Aggie determined that she wouldn

t ask twice. If the woman didn

t feel comfortable sharing, then Aggie was not going to pressure her. After a time, Aggie realized the woman was praying. Hesitantly, Aggie took the old wrinkled hand in hers and prayed aloud.

Father, we are here… together… hurting. William is in such pain, and I don

t know how to help him. Please give Mrs. Dyke a peace about speaking to me. If my understanding isn

t in Your will, please help me accept that, and show me how I can help him. In Jesus

name, we pray, amen.

The two women sat in the darkness on the antique porch swing and rocked
--
a study in contrasts. Young and old, lithe and arthritic, slender and plump, they couldn

t be more opposite. The only thing they knew they shared was a concern for one man. Aggie decided to tell her neighbor what was on her mind and see if it helped the woman decide how to respond.


Mrs. Dyke, William has been acting strangely.


I noticed that. Chasing you around the other day
--
what got into the boy?

Mrs. Dyke

s eyes twinkled at the blushing young woman.


Well, I guess I started it. We sort of had a paint fight…

She shrugged.

--
then Cari swiped his ears with my paintbrush. I don

t know how she got that…

Aggie winked at the elderly woman, and they both chuckled.


What I don

t understand, is William

s aversion to my house. I know that must sound harsh, but honestly, the man has hardly spent more than five minutes inside! Well, until this morning, and even then, it was obviously sheer torture. The other day, Tavish was under the stairs, and William came unglued. First, he was angry, and then he was so sad. How can I help him if I don

t know why he

s so upset?

Aggie

s frustration was evident.


The stairs? Oh, my.

A long silence followed. After what seemed to be several minutes, Mrs. Dyke continued.

Aggie, I

d love, more than anything, to be able to tell you what I know. It

d be nice to have someone else help carry the burden. But, this isn

t my story to tell. I

ve always had a hard time not sharing things I shouldn

t, but this one… no matter how much I want to, I

ve never been able to speak of it.

She looked at her gnarled hands and then back up at Aggie.

Talk to him. Make him talk to you. Win his trust. He needs someone to confide in. What he doesn

t need is that spit and polish woman that has moved in over there.

Mrs. Dyke

s disdain for Ellene warmed Aggie

s heart.


Murphy is enough to drive any man to drink. I don

t think you need to worry about him. He was quite angry with her the other day when Ian disappeared. I thought he was really going to let her have it.


Murphy?

Mrs. Dyke looked very confused.

Blushing, she said,

I christened her that on a bad day. She kind of got under my skin, so I named her Murphy. As in Murphy

s Law…

Mrs. Dyke still looked confused, so Aggie continued.

If it can go wrong it will?

Luke

s trademark smirk twisted at the corners of his mouth, when he heard gales of laughter from across the way. The children were all in bed, he had the first coat of primer painted, and the brushes and rollers washed. Not knowing what else to do, he opened the armoire and flipped through the DVDs on the bottom shelf. Finding an old Fred Astaire and Audrey Hepburn movie that he

d never seen, he eased his tired body into the recliner and tried to focus on the movie. If it was a good one, he could surprise his mother by bringing it home for a mother-son video night.

As a crazy woman demanded that American consumers

think pink

on the TV screen, Luke realized that Aggie had been gone for hours. Furthermore, he sensed that she probably had no clue how much time had passed; it would likely feel good to be out and carefree. She carried such a heavy burden, and that thought weighed on his heart. She was doing a job that most married women would find overwhelming, and Aggie did it alone. He thought of the time he

d spent there, the days Iris Landry or his uncle visited, and the two weeks of William

s help and amended that thought. She did it nearly alone. Luke wondered if she

d ever considered marriage or if she just hadn

t found the right man. Did she give up a relationship to become mother to the children? She didn

t act as if she was heart-sore.

Audrey Hepburn arrived at Orly airport in Paris when Aggie finally came home. She kicked off her shoes, plumped the couch cushions, and settled in without a word. While they watched the rest of the movie in a companionable silence, Luke popped microwave popcorn, the sounds of crunching corn blending in with the songs and quips of the movie. As Fred Astaire searched for Audrey Hepburn in the little garden behind the chapel, Aggie sighed.


Romantic at heart, Aggie?

Luke

s voice held a
discernible
trace of amusement.

I had you pegged as more practical than romantic.

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