Someday Home (30 page)

Angela's rod whistled again; her fly sailed casually through the air and plopped near the fallen tree. Judith shipped her paddle and just soaked up the peace of this quiet evening.

Peace.
Angela spoke often of at last finding peace. Lynn had always known it, probably, even in the depths of grief. And Judith was learning it. She smiled to herself. Someday little Miss Priss, now a constant maelstrom of activity, would be an adult, and she too would discover peace.

Off to the side, a fish leaped out of the water and splashed back in.

“Over here, turkey! My fly is over here!” Angela jabbed a finger, pointing, and they both laughed.

Judith dipped her paddle and started slowly gliding back. If they hugged the shore and Angela fished her way back to the dock, she might catch something.

But she didn't.

They tossed their gear up on the dock.

“I'll help set up dinner.” Angela got out and headed for the house. Judith stood up, stepped onto the dock, as the canoe did not bob much at all, and pulled the bow painter in to bring the canoe's nose around ninety degrees. Ninety degrees reminded her—analytic geometry next semester
and
first-semester calculus. Silly as it sounded, she felt almost ready. In fact, she was rather looking forward to it. She dragged the canoe up onto the dock nose first and flipped it upside down, so that rain would not collect in it.

Miss Priss was in the kitchen with Lynn when they went inside. “We're going to have a big dinner!”

Judith grinned. “We sure are. Hmm. Maybe I should make a wacky cake.”

Miss Priss made such a face, they all burst out laughing.

That night under the stars, after all the others had gone home and things were back to normal, Judith broke the long but comfortable silence. “I did it.”

“Which it are you speaking of?”

“Right now I was thinking of us paddling out on that lake again in the canoe and I could finally force myself to do it; not only do it, but relax and enjoy myself. It's a first.”

Angela gaped. “I didn't know you were still struggling with that. You got past that on your own? Why didn't you say something when I asked you to go?”

“Asking for help was not permitted when I was growing up. I was expected to automatically know how to do anything. And emotional things, you never asked for help. You just didn't talk about them. I guess we were supposed to be strong enough to handle them alone.” She thought about her father, locked alone in his grief when she was right there, locked in hers. But that was past. It was time to let go.

Angela wagged her head. “I was so scared the first time I ventured out after that spill. I really needed Phillip then. He is an excellent instructor, even when you're terrified. Now I feel confident out there.”

“And that gives him great joy, Angela, although he'd probably never say that. Incidentally, both of you”—Lynn nodded to each of them—“he and Tom asked me if they could give you both the honorary title of Auntie.”

Angela and Judith looked at each other, shrugged, grinned, and nodded.

“I think we are officially members of the family,” Angela said. “I am honored.”

“Me, too. I think that will be easier for the kids. All this
miss
stuff, sounds too southern for this northerner. Auntie or Aunt Judith. Nice ring.”

Chuckles floated into the breeze.

“And acing finals! I never dreamed I could do such a thing.”

“Wait a minute. What kinds of grades did you get that year you went when you were young?” Angela asked.

“All A's. But so much was different then. Now it's more complex, more—”

“That's it! Stop now! Studies show that returning students who have lived a bunch of years most often score higher than the younger classmates except in computer sciences. So, our experience and our desire count. Count a lot. Let alone the brain power.”

They froze as the owl hooted and did a flyover.

Judith sucked in air. “Oh, I've not seen her up close like that. She looks so big. Another gift for today.”

Angela laughed. “Bask in the feel-good, Judith. You earned it.”

“Thank you. You know what I am going to do tomorrow? I made the appointment this afternoon.”

“The way things are going, who knows?”

“I am going to go get my hair cut. Off with this long, wrapped, and pinned-up pile of hair. I'm thinking shoulder length. And the hair will go to Locks of Love.”

“Look out, world, a new Judith Rutherford is on her way!”

“For the first time in twenty years, I'm dreaming. While I love the Auntie title and will keep it always—thank you, Lynn, you and the boys—I want to be Dr. Rutherford.”

“Not medical, I hope,” Lynn said with a groan.

Angela giggled. “I think she means archaeology.”

“Something else I came to a realization about.” Judith nodded as she spoke, as if to emphasize. “These last couple weeks I've been looking back, and I can see that I was so alone and I didn't even know I was alone. Distant father, deceased mother. Melody always so far away. Only now with my first true friends do I not feel alone; only now can I see the difference. Does that make any sense?”

“Absolutely. Even more sense than cutting your hair or taking calculus.”

Angela snickered.

“I have a suggestion.” Judith picked it up again.

“Okay.” But Lynn looked at her suspiciously; it was more like a question.

“Those letters we wrote to the people we're supposed to forgive. I suggest we go get them and burn them in the fire pit. All of this over and done with. Closure, I guess I'm saying.”

“God used burnt offerings all through the Old Testament. Incense rising to Him. I think this is a very good idea.” Lynn lifted Miss Minerva to the side and got up. “I'll be right back, and I'll bring the fire starter.”

A few minutes later they gathered around the metal fire pit and dropped their letters in. Lynn clicked the fire starter and laid the flame to the corner of each, then pulled the wire screen dome into place. The three locked arms and watched the flames. The letters curled, blackened, and the flames went out.

Judith left the trio and grabbed a box of tissues to pass around. “Lord God, thank you.”

“Let this smell sweet to you,” Angela added. She blew her nose and locked arms again.

Lynn simply let the tears run down her cheeks unmopped. “Lord, you brought us together in such strange ways, we have to know it all came from you. And now this. You have made us not only friends, but more like sisters, sister friends. Thank you and may this be the beginning of our new life of adventures, the greatest one being, getting to know you better. Help us to walk always seeking your face.”

The owl alit in the maple by the shed and settled herself onto the branch. Homer came to stand beside them, nosing Judith's hand. Miss Minerva chirped from the lounger. Frogs sang from the lake.

“I say we go have some of Judith's wacky cake and raise a toast to us, to the future, and to our God who always hears. Who knows what adventures are ahead.”

“But Him.”

Minerva padded over and rubbed against Homer. The three women looked down expecting the dog to explode but he didn't. Dog and cat followed them into the kitchen and both demanded treats.

Judith pointed at the two. “See, miracles do happen, to us and even to them. I don't think this is a someday home any longer. I think we all have a very real home. Since we now have six eggs, perhaps we should have omelets for breakfast. Thanks to my dream chickens.”

“In our dream house, on a dream lake, with me as a librarian, Judith a brilliant student with big dreams, and Lynn seeing her home have family again. If we didn't know and experience all this really happening, we wouldn't believe it, either.”

And away out on the lake, a loon called.

A
ngela—Auntie Angela if you wish—smiled even though her seat was really not all that comfortable. She and four hundred other uncomfortable people sat in this huge auditorium, waiting for the graduates to appear. She glanced again at the brief program with dread; the shorter the printed program, the longer winded the speakers listed thereon. It was surely a law somewhere.

After a brief intro, the university's orchestra down in the pit launched into “Pomp and Circumstance.” Actually, Angela was impressed. They produced a strong, broad sound. The graduates entered, some stately and some giggling, and filled the rows reserved for them. Being Rutherford, Judith was in the midst of the back end, alphabetically speaking.

Beside Angela, Lynn pointed. “There she is, third from the aisle on this side.”

To Lynn's left, Miss Priss whispered loudly, “How come I didn't get to do this when second grade was over with?”

“Second graders graduate by going to third grade.” Angela smiled at her.

“But when can I wear a hat like that?”

Angela frowned. “Lynn? Do middle schoolers have a formal graduation?”

“Not in this system.”

“When you finish twelfth grade.”

Miss Priss groaned. “I'll be
old
then!”

“That's okay, dear,” Angela purred. “Graduation ceremonies allow for wheelchairs and walkers.”

Beyond Miss Priss, Phillip burst out laughing.

“It's not funny!” Miss Priss pouted.

Tom, beyond Phillip, and Maggie and Josie at the end of the row, were snickering too. In the row ahead, Dan, Doug, Travis, and Davey twisted in their seats to look. Paul's Plumbing had closed for four days so that the whole clan could come to Duluth. Angela really liked that they all cared so much they put family ahead of profit.

Lynn shushed Miss Priss as a speaker in graduation garb stepped up to the lectern. The speaker said all the usual words of welcome and introduced the next speaker, Meredith Pollan, chair of the anthropology department here at the University of Minnesota–Duluth, who would announce the name of this graduating class's outstanding graduate.

Angela frowned at her program. Meredith Pollan. She had heard that name before, where?

Dr. Pollan stepped to the lectern and adjusted the mike. She appeared quite likable, with short salt-and-pepper hair, an enviable tan, and a build neither fat nor skinny. And for a brief moment, Angela regretted all over again trying to be so thin for all those years.

Dr. Pollan nodded to left and right. “Graduates. Parents, grandparents, siblings, friends, and whomever I missed there. Each year the university faculty convene to choose an outstanding student, one who reflects the school's mission, a person who exemplifies what student life should be. Sometimes it takes three or four votes to arrive at a winner. This year's outstanding graduate took it on the first vote.”

Angela smiled. Not something that would carry any weight on a résumé, but a nice feather in the cap all the same.

Dr. Pollan continued, “If faculty could build the perfect student, they'd make one who loves to learn; in fact, who takes courses not for the grade average boost but because the student wants that information. The best students follow advice offered by informed people and ask for help when they need it. The very best students prepare for an engaging career in a field they enjoy, a labor of love, and monetary reward is a distant second.”

That would be Judith.
Angela nodded to herself.

“Our outstanding student in this class brought to her school experience a strong background in historic site management and a strong desire to learn. In fact, she—”

Angela looked at Lynn and Lynn looked at Angela. Judith's Rutherford House was now a historic site.

“—brought all the attributes of an outstanding student that I just enumerated. By taking summer classes and heavy winter course loads, she completed her AA in Detroit Lakes and her bachelor's degree here in three years instead of the standard four, a massive accomplishment. She—”

It was Judith!
Angela's heart swelled. She clapped her hands over her mouth to keep the happiness from bursting out.

“—plans to enroll in master's work here this fall. I present to you the outstanding student of this class, Judith Rutherford.” She extended a hand toward the graduates. “Judith?”

Angela and all the Lundbergs leaped to their feet and began applauding with wild enthusiasm. Travis whistled piercingly. As Judith made her way to the stage, others here and there in the audience stood. And others. By the time she reached the lectern, she was receiving a full-blown standing ovation. Wisely, Dr. Pollan handed Judith a tissue as she stepped back.

The auditorium quieted and people sat down.

Judith blotted her eyes and nose. “I am grateful. And immensely honored. And even more immensely humbled. Because, you see, I have learned that a student who succeeds does not succeed alone.” She was looking straight at the Lundberg clan. “So many others. For support, for guidance, for help, for understanding. For doing the dishes while I go back to studying. For feeding my chickens when I have a big exam that day. For being strong and true friends. Having such loyal friends is as new to me as is this degree. I treasure it all. I am so blessed by God. Thank you.” She turned to the trustees seated behind her on the stage. “Thank you.”

Thank you.
It applied to Angela and Lynn as well, in spades.

The rest of the ceremony zipped past Angela; she couldn't even remember who the distinguished guest speaker was. How could so many life-changing things happen in three years? Angela glanced at Lynn, who hardly ever got hot flashes anymore, not that she missed that. And Angela weighed exactly what she'd weighed in high school.

Charles and Gwynn would be coming for a visit this summer. She could not wait to take them fishing. The guest speaker droned on. They'd need two boats; maybe she and Gwynn could take the rowboat and give Judith and Charles the canoe.

And now Judith walked up to receive her degree and shake hands with the personages onstage. She was grinning brightly, such a wonderful change from the shy, reserved, suspicious woman who had moved into their someday home. She was still quiet and reserved—of course, that was Judith—but she had opened up so much, broadening her world. She seemed much more ready now to handle the new things—not all of them pleasant—that life threw at her. Her cousin Melody ran down the aisle to the stage and handed Judith a gorgeous bouquet.

And had Angela changed as much as those two? She had to think about that. Yes, she probably had. The children said Jack had managed to get his house back and was considering remarriage. Had he matured? Become a little wiser? Maybe three years could do that. Wait and see. Angela's change was that she was now, finally, genuinely happy for him, being what he is.

Here came the graduates filing out as the audience stood applauding.

Suddenly Miss Priss pushed past Angela and ran to throw her arms around Auntie Judith. The two exited the auditorium hand in hand.

“I'm so sorry,” Maggie said afterward, yanking Miss Priss roughly to her side.

“Why, I'm not. She made me feel ten feet tall.” Judith leaned over to drop a kiss on the little girl, who was growing so fast that she did not have to bend much at all.

And Angela thought to herself,
Judith, you
are
ten feet tall
.

As they so often did, the three sat inside looking out at the lake. Spring rain sluiced down the big windows. The fireplace crackled and reflected in the glass, making the room even more comforting. Homer snored at their feet, and Miss Minerva lay curled up right beside his chin.

“What a ride it has been.” Lynn watched the fire. “We know Judith's triumph. What have the rest of us gained in these last few years?”

“Not just a degree.” Judith smiled. “All my life I wanted sisters. Now I have two. Lynn, you didn't really need sisters. What have you gained?”

Lynn leaned her head back and stared up at the ceiling. “For me, a new life. I feel like with the two of you here, my new life has really begun; I'm no longer trying to hang on to the old one.”

“You mean letting go of the past? And grief?” Angela got up and put another chunk of wood on the fire. Then, hands tucked in the rear pockets of her jeans, she studied the flames.

“Exactly. And finally making peace with a life without Paul, letting it soak into my heart as well as my head. One door closes, others open. What about you, Angela?”

“This is so hard, zeroing in on one thing. You sisters and my new life in the library are so integral now that I have a hard time thinking back to without you. But probably the highlight for me is freedom.” She paused a moment. “I suspect some would say that Jack's demands that I change who I am were a subtle form of emotional abuse. Whatever, I am free of it, with the help of you two. And now that I'm me again, I feel much closer to my heavenly Father. I am so incredibly blessed.”

Lynn was nodding. “That we all are. Interesting that we all feel so much the same way. We've been through a lot these last couple of years. And I have a feeling, this next one is going to bring even more adventures.”