Someday Home (12 page)

J
udith pulled into a graveled circular driveway and parked in a wide spot beside a nice little black sedan. Was this the place? Surely so, two-story log house on the shore of a lake. The two-bay garage beside it was so new you could still smell the lumber. Too bad they had not made the garage of logs as well, but the cedar shakes that formed the siding were good enough. Judith had managed enough renovations on Rutherford House to know a thing or two about construction. This new building was very well constructed.

And the lake. Transfixed, Judith walked out across the green lawn to the water's edge.
Oh my. The lake.
A slight breeze tickled the surface and made it shimmer. It glowed. Yes, this was exactly her dream. No loons that she could see, but Lynn had said they were there. And ducks. Five mallard ducks puttered around at the water's edge nearby. Blue water reflected blue sky. And beyond, the sharp contrast of dark evergreens and pale green deciduous trees just beginning to come into foliage.

The yard was clearly loved and well cared for. Judith could see no weeds, and that was the first thing she looked for. Properly tilled beds, full, well-established grass.
Good. Good.
After her father laid off the landscape gardeners, the Rutherford House grounds that had once been the pride and envy of the region had all fallen into neglect, for Judith could not handle the herculean task. So she had arranged for the local garden club to take over the grounds of the Rutherford estate. Her father objected strenuously to strangers rooting about in his yard, but Judith insisted. The women, and a few men, took to the project with alacrity. They pruned, planted, tilled, mowed, and used some of the flower gardens as experimental plots. Now once again nestled amid lush beauty, Rutherford House enjoyed its former dignity and glamour. Did her father—or Mr. Odegaard, for that matter—realize the half of what Judith had accomplished for that estate? Obviously not, or if they did they were ungrateful fools. She turned back toward the house.

Two women came down off the porch to greet her. No two women could be as contrasty as these two were. The one was superthin, almost too lean, well dressed, well coiffed, very upscale looking; she seemed aloof, almost cold on first approximation. Beside her, Mrs. Lundberg was graying, normal build, very casually dressed, and sort of down-home bouncy-cheery. She oozed “Grandma.”

Lynn smiled and extended a hand. “Welcome, Judith. I'm Lynn Lundberg. This is Angela Bishop, another potential housemate. Please join us. We're in the middle of a hot discussion about how much flour goes into lefse dough.”

Judith laughed. “The fate of the free world hangs on this decision, doesn't it?”

Mrs. Lundberg and Mrs. Bishop looked at each other, grinned, and nodded. Mrs. Lundberg said, “You'll fit right in. Come and sit, please.”

Judith took the three wooden steps up to the porch, or veranda, or deck, or whatever you'd call it. She settled into a wicker papasan chair with a velveteen pad that was even more comfortable than it looked.

Mrs. Lundberg handed her a glass of clear pink something over ice. “Raspberry lemonade. The raspberries are homegrown. The lemons, not. How is your cousin?”

“Pouting, but she'll get over it. When I left Rutherford House, she intended for me to settle near her, ideally in her spare bedroom. Instead, if I come here, I'll be farther away than before.”

“Would that create a problem?”

“No.” Judith said it firmly, but was it really true? Melody was certainly disappointed, but it wasn't like Judith was moving to Mongolia or something. Would Melody come visit her here or expect her to make the long drive? Melody had hardly ever visited when she was at Rutherford House. That probably answered the question right there.

Mrs. Bishop's voice, a purring alto, sounded absolutely sexy. “My son and Lynn's son are friends. They reconnected through Facebook and”—she shrugged—“well, here I am. I drove out here the day after I first phoned Lynn and liked what I saw. This is my second visit.”

Judith gazed off momentarily at the shimmering water. “
A dream come true
is such a trite phrase, but it pretty much describes this setting. Mrs. Lundberg, I understand I'll be paying rent, but are there separate charges for grounds keeping; you know, landscaping and maintenance?”

“No additional charges, especially no landscaping fees. And please never call me Mrs. Lundberg again. I'm Lynn and this is Angela.” She chuckled. “My grandchildren and I love to garden. Well, not exactly. I'm the one who loves gardening. They pull weeds just to get to the cookies and pie following.”

“In short, you bribe them.”

Angela laughed. “Bribery works wonders. I used it all the time on my kids. Still do.” She frowned and cocked her head, listening. “Speaking of which…”

Judith heard it, too. Children's voices. It sounded like a whole classroom full, all chattering like blue jays. The happy gang came pouring around the corner of the house and toward the women on the porch. Judith cringed and tried not to let it show. She was not all that into small children, especially not five at once. They all wore child-type daypacks on their backs, and curiously, the two tallest boys had sticks of firewood stuffed into their packs. At least a grown-up was accompanying them, a jovial fellow also with a backpack.

Lynn was grinning. “This is my mob. Angela, you've met Phillip. Judith, Phillip is my elder son.”

The man stepped forward, smiling, and shook her hand. “How do you do, Judith?”

“Where's Tom?” Lynn asked.

Oh, dear, there are more?
flitted through Judith's thoughts.

“Fronting down Mrs. Sturtevant.”

“Fronting down?” Judith frowned.

He grinned. “Family slang. My dad invented it. The opposite of backing up. Mrs. Sturtevant's drains backed up, so my brother, Tom, is snaking the line.”

“Ah.” “Snaking the line” Judith understood all too well. She was intimately familiar with snaking lines. Some aging pipe or other in Rutherford House was always backing up. Usually tree roots were involved.

Lynn pointed. “Tom's children are those two, Douglas, Daniel. Doug and Dan.” Each grinned and waved as he was introduced. “These three are Phillip's. The tall gangly one there is Travis; he plans to become a chef. That's Davey, and this is Caitlyn. Miss Priss, to her parents and me.”

“I'm gonna be a ballerina,” Miss Priss announced. “Soon as I grow up.”

Angela smiled. “A worthy ambition! But then, so is becoming a chef.”

Judith had absolutely no idea what to say to these children. She rather envied Angela in a way, for Angela could at least come up with something.

Phillip explained, “We're headed for the park. We're going to roast marshmallows and make s'mores. You ladies are invited, of course.”

Judith pasted on a smile. “Perhaps another time. Thank you.”

“I'd love to sometime,” Angela said. It sounded so much warmer and friendlier than Judith's response.

One of the boys—was that Doug or was it Dan?—boasted of making an A on a math test. Lynn exclaimed something very positive. Lynn doted, that was for sure. Immediately the other four had to tell of their latest triumphs, eagerly talking and certainly not taking turns. And they had that habit all children have that annoyed Judith no end; if you didn't respond to a child instantly, that child kept repeating until you did. “G'ma, G'ma, G'ma, G'ma, G'ma…”

On the plus side, they all had nice little triumphs, at least for that age group.

In a few minutes the children all waved good-bye; the safari and their simple native guide trooped away around the house. The noisy chatter faded.

Thank goodness that was over with. Lynn had mentioned she would be introducing the mob who came and went through her kitchen. Judith faced a question that was minor at the moment but could easily become a monster: Did she really want to share her life with five noisy children? But then, the placid lake stretching out before her resumed its siren song.

Lynn said, “Angela, you explained that your husband filed for divorce.”

The gaunt woman (yes, that was what she was, gaunt) studied the decking a moment. “Lynn, Jack is a man obsessed with youth and good looks.” She shrugged. “And I admit, he's extraordinarily good-looking—movie star handsome. Slight graying at the temples and the physique of a thirty-year-old, right down to the six-pack abs. He spends hours a day at the gym and an hour a day in the bathroom just grooming. Taking a gorgeous woman out in public, to see and be seen, is extremely important to him.”

Judith could not imagine that mind-set. Surely this Angela couldn't be telling the truth here. There was more, something deeper, that she wasn't admitting.

Lynn nodded sadly. “Sounds like he found someone younger.”

“I'm sure of it, but I've never seen any direct evidence of it. Except…I was trying to mend our marriage and took him to the fanciest restaurant in the area; we could not afford it when we were raising kids, and I knew he loved that kind of thing. You know, glamour, a place that in theory he never went. And yet, he knew the maître d' by name, and when he ordered flambé, he didn't have to say it; the waiter knew. Even then I wasn't really suspicious; later, I started sorting things out. And since I left, I've discovered he was systematically draining our accounts. I froze the ones I could; something about stolen horses and barns.”

Judith wagged her head. “I can't imagine a person like that.”

Angela's voice dripped bitterness. “Imagine it.”

As the three continued talking, no one said much more of substance. Judith listened with one part of her mind and with the other tried to weigh these two women. Lynn. She seemed soft and motherly, but detectable beneath it all was an iron core. And this questionnaire she had them fill out. It smacked of micromanaging. Her father had micromanaged, so Judith knew it when she saw it. And authoritarianism.
Do it my way or else.
Judith had spent a lifetime under the thumb of an authoritarian micromanager. She truly hoped she was dead wrong about Lynn Lundberg.

And there was Angela. Judith's first appraisal seemed correct—this woman was aloof. Or maybe not; she seemed more wary than aloof. Guarded. Judith had dealt with a lot of high rollers, schmoozing wealthy people who might contribute to the Rutherford House renovation or some other local charity, and this woman did not “feel” like a wealthy person.
Silly thought, Judith!
Yes, but there it was. Judith had developed a sort of sixth sense about this, and she trusted her feeling now. Angela was either a very wounded woman or a phony.

But she could give this situation a try. If it didn't work out, she could always move back to Melody's, figure out something else. As she watched the vivid colors of the sunset reflect off the ripples in the lake, she made her decision.

S
o this is the day they move in?” Maggie asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“They should get here midafternoon.” Lynn stood with the refrigerator door open, staring at the inside. “I've planned an easy supper, the rooms are ready, and why am I so nervous? I can still back out.”

“I wondered if you were. I would be. In fact, I am, too. On one hand, I want them to love it here like we do, and on the other hand…”

“Do I really want to share all this with two women I don't even really know?”

Lynn set the half-and-half on the table and poured her own coffee. “I've been trying to guess what all the problems could be and all I get is a headache, and that reminds me about health issues. Are there any? What do we do if there are?”

“The old what-if game?”

“Right.”

“Someone I dearly love told me probably more than once to let God take care of the ‘what ifs' and I am to deal with one minute at a time.” Maggie poured half-and-half in her coffee and added a bit of sugar.

“I hate it when I have to eat my own words.” Lynn sank down into her chair like the state of Minnesota draped over her shoulders. “You suppose the other two are as scared of this as I am?”

“Scared? Lynn Lundberg scared? I doubt it. Apprehensive is sure understandable. Kind of like getting married, I'd guess. Well, no, not really. Permanent houseguests, but that's not right either. How will you divide up who does what?”

“The things I read said everyone needs to be upfront and honest about likes and dislikes and what really is impossible, i.e., smoking. I won't tolerate that, as everyone knows. Not even smoking on the deck, like some people go outside to smoke. I am so glad none of my kids smoke.”

“Or chew. Bleh.” Maggie made the appropriate face.

“Well, at least most women do not chew.” Lynn glanced at the counter. “Minerva, get down. We talked about a lot of that when they were here to visit together that time.”

“Do they both like animals and kids?”

“They said they do, but Judith has never had kids around, at least not like here. Minerva!”

Maggie nodded. “I'll see that the kids stay home until folks are settled in.” She reached over and covered Lynn's hand. “I told them that eventually they will get to do sleepovers at G'ma's house again. Miss Priss was the most concerned about that.” She glanced up at the clock and drained her coffee cup. “I told Phillip I'd run some errands before dinner. Better get on it.” She reached down and stroked Minerva. “At least no one is bringing a yappy dog.”

Judith arrived first. She got out of her car and stretched, smiling at the sight of the tulips blooming in a bed beside the graveled driveway. Her mother used to insist on red tulips lining the walk to the Rutherford House after the daffodils were finished. Back in the days when they had gardeners. The movers were supposed to be here by three to unload what she had marked for here and then take the rest to the storage unit. She would be so glad when this day was done. Leaving Melody and Anselm was hard. Even though it wasn't as if she'd not see them soon again.

She waved to Lynn up on the deck. “What a lovely day. Is Angela here yet?”

“Nope. She called to say there had been a bit of a problem.” She pointed out toward the driveway. “There's your truck.”

Lynn showed them where to back in, and within an hour, the furniture was in place, the bed put together, and they'd even moved the boxes from the trunk of the car into the hallway.

“You guys in need of coffee or iced tea?” Lynn asked, but when the two men turned down the offer, she sent them on their way with a bag of cookies. Obviously, Granny here loved to bake. She asked Judith, “You want me to go with you to the storage lot?”

“You don't mind?”

“Nope, supper is ready and I just got another call from Angela. They are still an hour and a half out.”

Once in the car, Judith looked at Lynn. “I still can't believe I really am doing this.”

“Join the club. We are all embarking on a new life adventure, that's for sure. I'll help you make up your bed when we get back.”

The gate would not open at the storage lot. Judith tried, Lynn tried, the younger of the movers tried.

Judith dialed the number for help. No one answered. “So now what?” Getting the churning to stop in her middle would be one important thing.

Lynn pulled out her phone, searched her contacts database, and dialed a number. “Merv, you have any idea where Penny is? We can't get into the storage lot.”

A voice so loud that Judith could hear it said, “No idea where she is, but he is over at the hardware store. You have the number?”

“Yep, thanks.” Lynn looked at Judith and shrugged while she located the number and hit send. “Hey, Jason, Lynn here, could you pass the phone to George? We're stuck at the storage gate.” They chatted and she closed the call. “He says he'll be right here. Take him about five minutes.”

The fellow named George arrived in a white pickup and used his key on the gate. It slid open, and the men unloaded and were on their way in less than half an hour. Judith snapped the lock shut on her unit and they returned to the car.

“Sorry about that.” George was huddled over at the gate, working on the box as they drove out. He grinned sheepishly. “Welcome to Detroit Lakes.”

“Reminds me of Rutherford that way,” Judith said. She asked Lynn, “You want an ice cream or something?”

“No thanks. We better get on home in case Angela's estimate was off.” Lynn pointed out landmarks as they headed back to Barnett Lake. They pulled into the drive and parked in front of the new garage. “So, did you get signed up for school?”

“I did. The semester starts June first. I decided to not go full-time this semester. I couldn't get one of the classes I wanted, so I am only taking three.”

“That gives you two weeks to settle in and get ready.”

“I thought of going to Melody's over Memorial Day weekend. Visit my mother's grave and leave flowers there. I always took flowers from the grounds at Rutherford House before.”

“You are welcome to take some from here, and the hothouse geraniums are usually blooming then. We can put them in buckets so they last.”

“Thank you, but Melody said I could cut from her yard, too.” She paused. “Will I be able to help in your yard and garden?”

“Judith, this is your house now, too. There's plenty of things that need to be done, so I thought we could see what each of us likes best or dislikes the least and sort of move into that.” Yes, this woman seemed to be a natural micromanager, just like her father.

They drove in right behind a moving truck and Angela was stepping out of her car. Whatever reservations Judith harbored would have to be put aside for the moment; the die was cast, as they say. They repeated the same move-in drill, but it seemed to go faster with Judith helping.

Judith said, “You told me you have dinner waiting. Tell me what you need done for supper, and I'll have it on the table when you get back from the storage lot. Or I can go along and we'll get it done super quick.”

“Warming up dinner won't take long. Hop in.” Lynn slid into Angela's front passenger seat, so Judith climbed in back. She had to scrunch aside a lot of blankets and bedding on the backseat.

Angela looked about at the end of her rope. “Thanks for helping me.”

“You are welcome,” Judith replied. “It appears you don't have much to put in storage.”

“I know. I left some in St. Cloud. I wasn't sure what to do with it, so I figured I could decide later.”

“So this Jack is in your old house?”

Angela grimaced. “I just learned that he has a housemate already. I imagine they will be married once the divorce is final. Seems she's pregnant.”

“And I take it this is a surprise to you?”

“Total shock. He's a master at hiding things, or so I have discovered. Or else I'm terribly gullible.”

Or some combination of the two
, Judith thought, but she didn't voice it.

They continued in silence to the storage lot.

George was still working on the automatic opener. He straightened and grinned. “You're back. I should have this fixed by the morning.”

“Surely not that long. Can't you find the parts?” Lynn asked.

“That's the problem, all right.” George smiled at Angela. “Welcome to Detroit Lakes, ma'am. This is a great place to live.”

Back at the house, supper preparation went swiftly. Angela and Lynn heated the food and Judith set the table. She was gratified to observe sort of abstractly that they worked together naturally and efficiently.

“We need the wineglasses; they're out in the mudroom on the shelf over the dryer. I have a bottle of sparkling cider in the fridge so we can have a toast.”

Angela came out of the bathroom. “Dinner smells wonderful. Where do you want us to sit?”

“Up to you.” Lynn pointed at the end chair. “I usually sit there since Paul died. That was his place for all our married life. Thanks for setting up the dining room table so formally, Judith. It feels more like a celebration that way.”

One thing the former mistress of Rutherford House knew was formal dining. And she loathed it. But sometimes there was a place for it. Judith sat down. “Your cat isn't real happy about having new people here. I got the evil cat eye.”

“Miss Minerva likes to think she is head of the house, and sadly, we did not seek her permission.”

“We used to have a cat,” Angela said, “but when she died, we decided to not get another one since we were both working and not home during the day.” She sat down on Lynn's left. “I'm left-handed.”

When they were all seated, Lynn said, “We say grace here; we've not talked a lot about beliefs, but…”

“Oh, I'm glad.” Judith held out her hands and Angela nodded, too.

Lynn lowered her head. “Thank you, Lord, for safe travel, for this glorious day and bringing us all together. Thank you for this food, and I ask for a good night's sleep for my two weary friends. Amen.”

“Thank you. Weary doesn't begin to cover it.” Angela trapped a yawn. “Sorry.”

“You sure make wonderful potato salad,” Judith said after the first mouthful. “Do you suppose you could teach me to cook?”

“Of course.” Lynn passed the pickle dish around.

“Are the rolls homemade?” Angela stared in wonder at her roll.

“I had some refrigerator dough that needed to be used; makes it easy, you know.”

Judith nibbled a pickle. “I guess you made these?”

“My daughters-in-law and I work together on the canning, freezing, and pickling. Makes it go much faster that way. I'm thinking that might be the last jar of those.

“Would anyone like dessert?” Lynn asked when they were about finished eating.

“Sorry, not tonight.” Angela stood and picked up her plate and silver. “I promise to help clean up tomorrow night, but I am so tired, I can't think.”

“Not to worry. We'll take care of it all. I'll come help you with your bed in a minute. Okay?”

“You needn't, but thank you.” She took her dishes into the kitchen and headed down the hall to the bedrooms.

Lynn waved an arm toward the dirty dishes. “I'll do these and you go help her?”

“Thanks.” Judith knocked on the half-open door and looked in to find Angela sitting on the naked bed, dissolving in tears. “What is it?”

“My bedding is in a box. Somewhere.”

“No big deal. What size?”

“Double. I took it out of one of the kids' bedrooms. I left our king size in the master bedroom. What a stupid thing to do.”

Judith returned in a minute with the bedding Lynn provided in hand, including a mattress pad and a quilt. “Queen size, but it will tuck in easily. I'll get you a pillow…” She stopped.

Angela was sitting in a recliner, sound asleep, tear tracks on her cheeks.

Judith went ahead and made the bed, knelt down and removed the sleeping woman's shoes, then pulled the lever for the recliner. She tucked the quilt around Angela's body and left the room. Perhaps she and Lynn would be able to get her to the bed after a nap.

“How did she ever make it driving here?” Lynn asked after Judith described what had happened.

Judith wagged her head. “To crash like that seems strange for the little I know of her. She's a pretty determined woman.”

“I agree. Let's take coffee and pie out on the deck and watch the evening settle in. But you better get a jacket. It turns chilly really fast. We'll make your bed after.”

They had just settled around the glass-topped patio table when Lynn paused.

“There, you hear it?”

Judith tilted her head. “So distant. What is it?”

“The loons calling. The mating call. You get to recognize their various calls after a while.”

“Haunting.” This is what she'd dreamed of; curiously, in real life it seemed oddly different from the dream.

“Wild and free. Good thing the mosquitoes aren't out yet. Still too cold for them.”

Judith smirked. “What a pity. Do they spray around here?”

“Not out of town this far.” Despite that the evening had cooled off, Lynn flapped the front of her T-shirt rapidly, fanning herself. Judith didn't get hot flashes. Yet. She had that to look forward to and she had never even married.

“Do you swim out there?”

Lynn nodded. “Of course, off the dock mostly. You want to stay out of the reeds; that's where the bloodsuckers lurk.”

Judith shuddered. “I'm afraid I am a pool baby.”

The breeze off the lake kicked up, and they went inside to run the dishwasher and make Judith's bed, then together got Angela from the chair to her bed and tucked her in, clothes and all. A strangely weird end to a strangely weird day.