Someday Home (28 page)

Now that she was used to having kids around, she was surprised to find that she enjoyed it. Well, in moderation.

“Go put your suit on,” Lynn called with a wave.

“No thanks, I'm not much into swimming in lakes.” The thought of bloodsuckers made her cringe. That and a gunky bottom.

“You can swim off the dock.”

“That's okay. I'll just come and dangle my feet.” She kept her gaze from the canoe. She knew she ought to get back on the horse, er, canoe to get over her fear. On the other hand, why? So far she had lived her whole life without going out in canoes.

There were more people than ever playing on docks or out in boats and canoes all over the lake. Sails of red and blue and white and stripes dotted the water. She sat down on the dock, Homer came to sit beside her, and she swung her feet into the lake. Travis jumped off the T of the dock, setting it to bobbing.

Lynn came out of the water to sit beside her. “It really feels good.”

“Another time.”

Miss Priss scrambled up. Something black on her leg. She looked down. “Oh, ick. G'ma, will you take this thing off, please?”

Judith closed her eyes. A bloodsucker on the little girl's leg—biology gone amok.

“Dad says you have to take off your own suckers,” Travis yelled from off the end of the dock.

“I can't.”

“All right, Travis, when she's bigger she will.” Lynn reached over and pulled the horrid thing off and threw it over toward the reeds. “Let's go put some ammonia and salve on that.”

“I'll take her up.” Judith got to her feet and took Miss Priss's hand. “Do you need a Band-Aid, too?”

“No, I'm big now.”

And resilient, just like the rest of her family, her microcosm. Maybe Judith should revise her essay slightly before sending it in.

Up at the house, she splashed on ammonia and applied the salve, watching as the child ran out the door and back down to the lake. No doubt to go right back in the water.

She debated. Go back down, go study some more, or bake that cake Lynn had gotten the recipe out for. She said it could all be stirred up in one pan. She looked at the card on the counter. Chocolate Wacky Cake. Lynn had made it before and it was really good.

Mise en place
, Lynn always insisted.
Meeze ahn plahss.
Judith and Angela both called it “mess in place” with a smile. First, get out everything you are going to need, so you know you have everything. Judith turned on the oven and got out the cake pan, the measuring cups and spoons, and all the ingredients, including vinegar, which had surprised her, noncook that she was. She put the ingredients in the pan, poured the water over it, stirred it, and slid it into the heated oven. Carefully she set the timer for forty minutes. By the time she put things away and wiped off the counter, the time was half gone.

What to do while she waited? She fetched one of the books that were required reading for her biology class.
Guns, Germs, and Steel
by Jared Diamond. She had never heard of the author, but apparently he was famous and highly prominent. This was one of Dr. Thompson's favorite books because to read it, he said, you should have a working knowledge of biology, geology, geography, and sociology. It was on Dr. Pollan's list of recommended books as well.

She was on page ninety-seven when all the lake lovers came trooping in, laughing and teasing. “Oh, something sure smells good.” Dan, the youngest boy and a miniature version of Tom, sniffed his way over to the oven. “What're you making?”

“Wacky cake. I thought we could have it with ice cream.”

Lynn nodded to her. “Good for you.”

“I watched you before and followed the instructions on the card.” The fragrance of baking chocolate made her mouth water. Chocolate cake just out of the oven—what a way to celebrate her latest math score, if not her biology score.

The timer buzzed. Judith reached for the oven door.

“Get a toothpick to check for doneness.”

“Oh, that's right.” Judith got a toothpick from the cupboard, gently pulled out the cake pan, and stuck the toothpick in. It pulled out clean. She set the pan on the rack on the counter and stared at it. Something was wrong.

“It's a little bit flat,” Travis said.

“Well, sometimes those things happen. It will taste more like brownies this way, no problem. You go get the ice cream.”

Angela sniffed above the cake pan. “Risen properly or not, it smells wonderful.”

“By the time everyone washes up, it should be cool enough to cut. Ice cream on hot cake, what a treat for today.” The kids scrambled for the downstairs bathroom and the women headed for theirs. When everyone gathered in the kitchen again, Judith had set out plates and forks.

The four boys picked up their forks and started pounding them on the counter along with their chant, “Let's eat cake. Let's eat cake.”

Judith shook her head, laughing at them. “It's coming, it's coming.”

She cut and put the pieces on the plates, Angela dished scoops of ice cream on top of cake, and they passed them out. Dan cut off a big bite and grinned as he put it in his mouth. His eyes got round, then his face scrunched and he spit it out.

“Dan, what?”

“G'ma, it's icky.”

Lynn took a bite without the ice cream. “Oh. That's why it didn't rise right.”

“Why?”

“You forgot the sugar. Now, don't panic, it's okay, we'll dig out the fudge syrup and crumble the cake in it, then the ice cream.”

Judith stared at the cake. She picked up a crumb and tasted. “Sorry, guys. Euw, that's bad.”
My first cake and I blew it.

Davey frowned at his piece of cake. “Do chickens have taste buds?”

Judith wagged her head. “I doubt even the chickens would want it.”

Lynn smiled. “We've all had things like that happen. No big deal.”

“I passed biology and flunked cake baking. What a day.”

“And I got a sucker on me. A big fat bloodsucker.” But Miss Priss didn't seem to care at all.

Yes, this sprightly little girl would indeed go into Judith's essay.

I
love my new job!” Angela literally danced into the room.

Judith looked up from her keyboard. “You were already working there.”

“How can you sit there studying when the world is right outside that window?”

“If I go outside, I will get involved in that world, and right now I have to focus on this. Job?”

“I'm taking over the children's section, which is my first love, we're setting up a new help desk, and we won the bid for our bookmobile; I go over to Duluth next month and pick it up. Pure fun, and for that I get a paycheck, which relieves a whole different set of concerns.”

“You were worried about finances?”

“It was creeping in.” Angela stood in front of the window, watching the clouds pile up to the north. “Look at those thunderheads. Have you ever seen clouds more spectacular?”

“Please, no, don't tell me things like that. I won't look right now.”

“You have far more self-control than I have ever had. I envy your discipline.”

“My father forced me into it.”

“Actually that is something you should be thankful for.” She could feel Judith's stare in her back and so turned around. “Just a thought.”

Judith was still staring. “No, you are right. I think I should consider what other positive traits I got from him. And my mother.” She went back to her laptop.

Angela wandered out onto the deck facing the lake. Lynn sat there doing a crossword puzzle and sipping a bright red raspberry-laced-something-ade. Angela turned around, went to the kitchen, and found the pitcher in the fridge. She poured herself a tall tumbler of raspberry something, tossed in a few ice cubes, and went back out.

She fully intended to go sit at the other end, so as not to disturb Lynn, but Lynn dropped her crossword puzzle magazine on the floor. “Come sit, unless you'd like to be alone and rest.”

“I won't disturb you?”

“Heavens no. I only do crosswords when I'm bored.”

Angela sat down beside her. “Late afternoon is just as gorgeous as morning or evening or stormy weather.”

“It is.” Lynn sipped a moment. “I have another appointment with Pastor Evanson tomorrow morning. Looking for suggestions as we take the next step, you might say.”

“Oh, good. I look forward to learning what he has to say. I'm pretty much stuck in my rut, especially since Jack showed up and I could really see…uh-oh.” Angela pointed. “That escape artist chicken is out.”

“Oh, dear.” Lynn stood up. “Miss Priss was here very early wanting to look for eggs. I'll bet she failed to close the chicken yard ga—”

Homer's loud howling from behind the house stopped her in midsentence. He was baying in an odd way. Angela leaped off the porch and ran. What was happening?! A chicken squawked. Not just one of their testy complaining squawks or even a
Help! A raccoon!
squawk. It was far more frantic than that.

Lynn arrived behind the garage a few strides ahead of Angela.

“
Homer, no
!” they both shrieked.

The dog had Henny Penny in his mouth and was shaking his head vigorously! His whole body rippled; those impossible ears flapped wildly.

“Let loose!” Lynn grabbed his head and jaws. “Let her go, Homer!”

Angela straddled him from behind and closed her hands over his windpipe.

Homer let Lynn pull the hen from his mouth. Angela stayed on him, holding him.

Lynn was near tears as she cradled the wet, bloody hen. “She's lost. Look. Her wing, her leg, that puncture wound in her back.” She gripped the head, stood up, and swung the chicken suddenly in a circle. Angela had never seen a bird's neck wrung before. It was unnerving. Henny Penny made a few feeble kicks and went limp.

“Homer…” Lynn seemed to have run out of words.

Angela stood up, stooping to keep a firm hand on Homer's collar. “Well, it's obvious that Homer and Judith's chicken project cannot coexist. Which one are you going to send to a new home?”

“Neither.”

“Lynn, Homer's a chicken killer!” Angela felt vaguely frantic herself, her nerves dancing beneath her skin.

“Homer is a basset hound! Bassets have been bred for hundreds of years to go after small game. He was being what he is, a hunter. I will not get rid of him for being what he is.”

Angela gave up the argument. She was too overwrought anyway to mount a reasonable response. She looked over at the chicken run. The yard gate was ajar. Miss Priss had not quite closed it all the way and their escape artist had used the opportunity to get out, followed by the hens. Would it happen again? Quite probably. If not Miss Priss, then someone else; since it had been raccoon-proofed, the gate was not easy to secure.

Lynn took over Homer's collar. “I'll put him in the mudroom until we get the chickens back in.”

Angela stepped back and watched Lynn lead/drag the dog to the house, then started walking back around to the front. And stopped cold.
Homer, being what he is.
Lynn did not penalize Homer for being what he is. He had shown his true colors: he was a destroyer who could not be trusted, and Lynn did not trust him. But in essence, she forgave him. Showed mercy.

Jack is being what he is.
It rang in her head. Jack damaged his wife and children and wrecked his stable home, even his future; he stood to lose everything. He was a destroyer who could not be trusted. But Angela could forgive him, show mercy, as Lynn had done, and let him continue being what he is.

What a wonderfully freeing thought! Not forget, but forgive; not wish vengeance or payback, just forgive. She would tell the children about her forgiveness, but they must forgive him and Angela on their own terms, in their own time. After all these months the world was falling into place. Angela started scouting for chickens to chase them home.

Storm clouds gathered that made the job much easier; the chickens headed for the safety of their run. Lynn joined Angela on the deck. She said Judith had been quiet when she told her what happened. Sad, no doubt, but she seemed accepting. The storm came ferociously, and Angela marveled at how powerful—and how brief—these storms could be.

That night the storm blew out, and the world smelled rain fresh, a fragrance compounded of trees and flowers and who knew what else, as the three gathered for their nightly stargazing. Judith had Homer beside her. She didn't hold what happened to Henny Penny against him. In fact, she seemed to have accepted it far better than Angela had initially.

“You better mosquito up; the breeze died,” Lynn warned, slapping repellent on her legs and arms.

“Ta-da!” Judith held up a pink plastic bottle with a dispenser on top.

Angela frowned. “Baby lotion?”

Judith spread it over her arms. “A classmate says it is supposed to be the best mosquito repellent there is. We'll see.” She started slathering it on her ankles.

“How come they don't bother me?”

“Because you're too skinny,” Judith said with a grin. “They like blood with some fat in it. Like mine, for instance. Prime quality.”

“You're not fat.”

“No, but I'm middle-aged plump, and next to most of my classmates, I'm fat.” Judith licked her lips. “Confession: for the longest time, Angela, I envied you, so lithe and rail thin, looking so good in a sheath dress. It's how I always wanted to be, but I never was. And then I started thinking about what it cost you to get that look and how it didn't make any difference in the long run, and I don't envy you anymore.”

An owl hooted as it passed, its huge wings pumping soundlessly.

“Did you see that?” Angela asked, startled.

Lynn nodded. “Great horned owl. He lives in the trees on the other side of the road, not a stranger here. He or she, it might be a she.”

“I heard hooting a few months ago, baritone. That was him? Her?”

Lynn nodded.

Judith looked at Angela. “You let little hints out here and there about what your marriage was like, and the more I heard the more I was afraid you'd go back to him.”

Angela smiled. “Funny thing. Mary said she was hiring me just moments before Jack showed up that night.”

“Our great God in action. He promises to prepare us for whatever is coming. I wonder…” Lynn's voice trailed off. The evening choruses were in full glory. The moon threw a trail of glimmer across the lake.

A bit later, Angela asked, “You wonder what?”

“I wonder if God tried to prepare me for Paul's death and I was not aware of it. The shock of that phone call, Phillip sobbing, I couldn't even understand him. I knew it was him because of his number, but…” She sniffed and reached for the tissues they kept at hand. “I kept saying, ‘What? What are you saying?' Someone else took his phone and told me that Paul had collapsed and was gone by the time the ambulance got there. I guess Tommy kept on doing CPR until they dragged him off Paul and replaced him with a CPR machine.”

Homer put both front feet on Lynn's hip, whimpering and trying to get close enough to lick her tears away.

She blew and continued, “The autopsy showed the aortic aneurysm. It just suddenly blew out, ripped open. The doctor said it happened so fast he never knew what hit him. And no pain.”

What to say?
Angela nodded.

Lynn smiled sadly. “I keep trying to find bright spots. You know, there aren't many.”

“Yet,” Angela amended.

“Yet. Yes. We had a second daughter; six months old, she died of crib death one night. We didn't talk about her. A bright spot is Paul finally gets to meet her.”

“What was her name?”

“Amanda Lynn, after her grandmothers. I know I shall see her again one day, too.”

“Well, don't be in a big hurry, okay? We got a lot of living to do first.” Angela tried to envision losing a child. It didn't compute.

“So very true. But you know what a comfort it is to know that you'll see those you love again?”

Judith nodded solemnly. “I thought of that often when my mother died, but with her, I was so grateful she was finally free of the horrid pain she endured for so long. I could see her walking again and digging in her roses, smiling and laughing. Do you think there are rose beds in heaven?”

“Someone told me that all the things we delight in here on earth, like fresh strawberries, are just a foretaste of heaven. Rose beds specifically? Who knows?”

Angela sighed. So much heartache, all three of them. And yet, such a deep feeling of peace. “I cannot begin to thank God enough for what I am feeling right now. Peace.”

They sat in silence awhile.

Did Angela dare to get extremely personal? She risked it. “Lynn, are you still angry at Paul?”

“I don't know. I hope not; one of the things Pastor Evanson and I will chat about tomorrow. I suspect anger is nothing more than a grief attack—again—with a big dollop of menopause. And that, I understand, is part of the process. A friend told me her husband died ten years ago, and still, something can trigger tears all over again. But she also said, the tears don't stay around as long as they used to and that someone else told her that grief was like that.”

“Interesting,” Angela mused, “how often we help each other because of something we've been through.”

“Or something we've learned about from others.” Judith picked up her empty glass. “The day I can let go of all the things my father did in his anger and lashing out, that day will be a miracle. I need to get to bed; I have an eight o'clock again. One more week and finals.” She stood up and stretched. “Good night, my friends.”

They chorused good night to her as she left.

The moon (gibbous waxing was the descriptive term, Angela had learned) now sailed high enough above the land to be hidden by the trees. The sky glowed all around it.

“When do you start full-time?” Lynn asked a bit later.

“Monday. I am lucky enough to have the early shift. And we take turns on those nights that the library is open late. You ever go to the farmer's market in town?”

“Not really; got enough stuff here to eat.”

Angela nodded. They sure did. “I was looking at the paper today and I am constantly amazed at all the things that go on around here. I'm thinking we might go to the concert out at the lakeshore park. Someone said they are really good.”

“Good idea.”

“I want to get more involved in this community. This is my home now and I finally have time for that.” The baby lotion was working pretty well so far. “How are you coming with the quilts you were working on?”

“I'm thinking to set up the quilt rack so we can tie one off. We usually do that at the church, but perhaps we can do one here. If it were my quilt, I would just put it on the machine and go at it.”

Angela stood and held out a hand. “Let's go set that up.”

“Now?”

“Why not?” She pulled Lynn to her feet. “Then when anyone has some time, they can go tie knots.”

Lynn was smiling as they went inside. “While we continue to untie our own.”