The Second Half (15 page)

“Wherever he is, he is in a different time zone than we are, and that might be causing problems.”

“A time zone? Like when it's later at Virginia Beach than it is here, so we can't call Daddy's friend Edward?”

“Yes, military people go all over the world. Tomorrow we'll have to get a world map out and talk about time zones. Perhaps we should go shopping for a globe.”

Usually the idea of shopping perked Mellie right up. Not tonight.

“I hate the military,” she muttered.

“I understand, darling girl, but your daddy is proud to serve our country in the military, and we are proud of him. That is what he has chosen for a career, and he is very, very good at what he does. We just need to pray that God will keep him safe. Perhaps he'll be able to Skype tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow can we write him a letter?”

“We most certainly will.” Mona wrapped an arm around her granddaughter and rested her cheek on her head.

“If he Skypes after I go to sleep, will you wake me up?”

“Of course we will, and we'll keep the laptop right by the bed—just in case”

Ken was off the phone when Mona came back downstairs. “Lodge troubles?”

“Yes. Bert wants a meeting tomorrow evening to work out some financial problems.”

“You want a cup of tea or coffee or iced tea?”

“I guess.” He scrubbed both hands over his head. “I think I want out of this job, too.”

“Lodge elections won't be until fall. You've been the lodge treasurer for how many years?”

“More than I care to count.”

“You could probably ask to be released, but why?”

“I guess I'm feeling the pressure here. I'll be fine in the morning.”

From upstairs came that now-familiar wail.

Ken sighed as he stood. “I can't wait till he grows up.”

Friday at noon, Mona got out of the car as the children tumbled out and ran into the kitchen. She lifted their parcels out of the trunk and followed them in. “The shoppers return!”

Smiling, Ken met them at the kitchen table. “What treasures do you bring?”

Mellie dug into a bag. “I got a new bathing suit. The one from last year is too short.”

“Look, Grampy. Look. Look.” Jakey found his package, a set of Legos with which to build an airplane. “Look.”

“That's going to be a lot of fun, Jakey.”

“And we got this.” Mona set a twelve-inch globe on the counter.

“This is excellent! It has a time indicator up at the top here, where the Arctic is. Look, Mellie, now we can find out what time it is where your daddy is stationed.”

She scowled at the globe.

Ken gave it a twirl. “Here is North America, and here is the United States. Wisconsin is right here, see? So we'll follow this longitude line up until we can set the time indicator to nine at night. Now we find Pakistan, which is…” He turned it to the Indian subcontinent. “…Right here. What does the time indicator say?”

Mellie climbed up on a stool to read it better. “Seven. No, eight. In between.”

“Seven thirty. And the indicator is white, meaning daytime.”

She sat back. “So if he calls at seven thirty in the morning, he talks to us at nine, bedtime?”

“Exactly.”

“Maybe he doesn't know that, and he calls at the wrong time.”

“That's possible, but I'm pretty sure he knows. He's traveled a lot.”

“Grammy, did you know that?”

“I knew there's a big time difference; he's almost halfway around the world.”

Mellie laid a finger on Pakistan and rotated the globe slowly, seeking Wisconsin. She found it, too. Steig's daughter was one smart girl. Her face melted into a sad, sad look. “That's so far.” She murmured, “So far,” and slogged off upstairs.

Friday night passed with no word, as did Saturday. Marit took all the kids to the community swimming pool, and the first thing Mellie asked when she came through the door: “Have we heard from Daddy?”

“No, but I don't expect to during the day. Maybe tonight.”

“Oh.”

“You want to help me make supper?”

She shook her head and made her way upstairs, as if climbing them took all her strength.

Jake clambered up on a kitchen stool. “Can I help?”

“Maybe you and Grampy can set the table.” She glanced at Ken to see him shrug.

“You need us right away? I was hoping to set up the watering in the garden. If we don't get some rain pretty soon…” He tousled Jake's hair. “Come on, buddy, we need to find some stuff in the garage.”

“We could go find worms and go fishing.”

“I think maybe we could do that; how about off the dock?”

Jakey grinned, near to splitting his face. “Maybe Mellie wants to go fishing, too.”

“Maybe she would. Come on, let's dig out the sprinklers first.”

As Mona slid the homemade macaroni and cheese in the oven, she heard a door slam upstairs. Mellie did not slam doors. Mona made her way up the stairs. When she stepped into the room, she sucked in a breath of shock. Every game piece from all the games on the shelf were strewn about the room.
Oh Lord, give me wisdom.
Had she been younger, she might have been furious, but now all she could do was try to stop the tears.

“Mellie…what…?”

The little girl stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by her mess. “You lied to me! He's dead, isn't he? Daddy's dead!” As Mona strode forward, Mellie ducked away, her arms wrapped around her head.

“Oh, you poor baby.” Mona grabbed an arm and pulled the little girl in against her. She hugged tightly, rocking sort of, until Mellie stopped struggling. Then Mellie simply melted against her, sobbing. Mona sidled a couple steps to reach the tissue box with a free hand. She handed one to Mellie and used one herself.

“No, Mellie,” Mona purred, “I will never lie to you. Your father is okay. He just missed his Skype, but he would never do that on purpose. He must have a good reason. Remember, I raised him. I know him so completely, I usually know what he thinks. And I'm sure of his love for you.

“But…” She left the rest unspoken and simply clung. Finally she lifted her head.

“I—I'm sorry, Grammy, I'll clean it up, I promise.”

How to handle this? Screaming temper tantrums she could understand, but malicious behavior left her bewildered.
Lord, oh, do I need wisdom now.

“Later, when you feel better. How about we go downstairs, and you can break up the lettuce for salad? Then we'll talk about what to do, okay?”

“Do you hate me now?”

“Hate you? Why, heavens no. I could never hate you.”

“She said she hated me, that I was a spoiled brat, and she didn't want to see my face again.”

“I'm sorry she said that. But that is her fault, not yours or Jakey's. Let's go downstairs and get the supper on the table. Grampy and Jake are supposed to set it.”

Mellie sniffed and almost giggled. “Jakey doesn't know how.”

“Then it is time he learns. We'll let Grampy teach him while we whip cream for the dessert.” She stood and held out her hand. “I made Jell-O. Guess what kind.”

“I hope red.” Mellie stepped back and blew her nose again. “Hyacinth licked my cheek. Can she sleep with me if she wants?”

“Once we get Jake over being afraid, we will see.” Hand in hand, they walked down the stairs.

B
irthday parties took more effort than he ever thought they would, but then Ken generally wasn't in on the planning stages. “So why can't we just meet at the ice cream shop, order a cake in advance, and that's it? I know they have a party room.”

Mona gave him one of those looks. “Really.”

He wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement, so he let it lie there. “Would be easier than packing everything up, hauling it to the park, unloading, setting up, party, clean up, reload, get home, unload, and put stuff away.”

“You really think you could get away with this?”

“Okay, then, the pizza parlor. Bring the cake and presents…” He paused for a moment. “Maybe they would put candles on a pizza or we could.” The look on her face did not bear much hope for his suggestions. He sighed. “All right, what is it you and Marit have hatched?” He knew it was going to be a whole lot like his scenario of all the steps. “If you didn't want my opinion, why did you ask?”

“Good question. I guess because now that you are retired, I thought you wanted to be involved in planning some of our events. We have to do something special because this is her first, and I hope only, birthday with neither her mom nor her dad in attendance. And if we don't hear from Steig pretty soon, I'll need to go downstairs and beat the snot out of that punching bag.”

“Better than throwing toy pieces all over the house.”

She lightly punched him on the arm, shaking her head. “I felt so sorry for her. I've sure been praying for God's wisdom with these kids.”

“Why is it so different from when our kids were young?”

“First of all, we are a lot older, and sometimes my get-up-and-go just doesn't get up, let alone take off and leave me behind.”

“But we are wiser and more patient. And you don't have to do it mostly alone while I'm at work.” He held out his arms, and she walked into them, cushioning her cheek on his chest.

“You might not be the best party planner, but you are a mighty good man and I am so grateful to be your wife.”

“Hey, you are the party planner by choice. Remember, that is your business.” He laid his cheek on her head. “What can we do with five children and four adults? Think back to some of the early parties, which you always made into an event. What can we redo?” He paused a moment. “Maybe we should ask Mellie what she wants to do?”

“Good idea.” She hugged him and stepped back. “We'll ask her when Marit brings them back. In the meantime, let's go work in the garden for a while. I want to get the tomatoes transplanted.”

As always, they bought tomato plants when they were seedlings, planted them in pots up to their leaves, then did another transplant into a bigger pot, repeating the plant-to-the-leaves process. They always had fantastic tomatoes because the roots grew out from the buried stalk each time. But it didn't work for corn. At all. At times, Ken wished he'd gone into horticulture. Maybe now that he was retired…

“We could still have a frost.”

“Then I'll cover them. Watching the forecast will be your job.” Together they headed outside, both dog and cat trailing. “If you dig the holes, I'll do the rest.”

“And we need how many holes?” He glanced over to where the tomato pots were lined up against the south side of the garage wall. “I think next year we'll put a hotbed in where the pots are now. Then we can start lettuce, cabbage, and some of the hardier seeds earlier.”

“I thought you were talking about a small greenhouse.”

“I was, but…”

“But what?”

“I guess—I guess I want to not be tied down just in case we can travel during springtime. They say Holland is amazing in the spring. And Butchart Gardens in Victoria.” He lifted the shovel off the rack and grabbed a pot with the other hand, heading for the remaining empty spot where the dirt was ready and waiting for him. “You get the cages, please. They're hanging in the shed.”

By the time they finished, dusk was sneaking in, mist spiraling up from the river as the air cooled.

Mona watered the seedlings one last time and they put the tools away, Ken carefully scraping the dirt off the shovel as he always did. His father had taught him how to care for his tools well.

“When does your wood-carving class start?”

“Tomorrow night. There are two of us beginners he's going to start privately so we can catch up to the regular class. Apparently his course started three weeks ago. I figured I'd wait until the next class started, but he wanted to do it this way, so…”

Ambrose barked and, tail flagging, headed for the driveway where Marit's car was just turning in.

“So much for quiet around here.” He halfway flinched at the look Mona shot him. But after all, he was entitled to his opinion. Maybe they'd go to bed early. Working like this in the garden with Mona was one of the things he'd looked forward to in retirement. As in not only in the evenings, but also during the day—in the middle of the week—whenever. He followed her out to greet the family.

Marit rolled down her window. “I promised everyone ice-cream cones at the shop. Come on with. My treat.”

“Let me go wash my hands first; we'll be right back.” Mona glanced at him and he nodded. “I'll put the animals in.”

“You don't have room for us,” Ken said to Marit once they were ready. He looked at the loaded van with two booster seats and five kids…

“Sure we do. Big kids in the back, one of you up here, and one between the seats there.”

“I'll take the middle seat.” He grinned at the two grandsons. “So I can keep you from fighting.”

“Grampy…” They were learning to turn that word into three syllables like they already did
Mom
. He flipped the fold-down seat back in place and slid in. “How did you earn ice-cream cones?”

“The boys picked up and put away all the toys and books and stuff in the right places, while the girls helped in the kitchen.”

“The kitchen, eh? And what did you girls do?” He spoke to those in the rear seat.

“I unloaded the dishwasher and scrubbed the cookie sheets and stuff.” Mellie spoke first.

“And Mom is teaching me to sort the laundry and get the washing machine going. Did you know if you put too much soap in, the suds can run right out the top?” Brit finished.

“Hmmm, I wonder how your mom learned that lesson?” He poked his daughter on the shoulder.

“You don't have to remind me, I told them the whole story. What a mess that was, but we had a sparkly clean laundry room by the time I got it all cleaned up.” She turned the van into the parking lot. “Okay now, everybody, two scoops and you have to decide quickly. Looks like a busy night.”

“Saturday always is busy here. We could have had ice cream at home.”

“But not all the flavors, Grampy.” Brit patted his shoulder. “What kind are you going to have?” Marit and the children bailed out of the car and aimed for the ice cream parlor.

Ken decided to just wait in the car; he had plenty of ice cream at home. And he made a mental note to buy both sugar and plain cones at the store. He crossed his arms over his chest and prepared to watch the traffic go by. There was always visual entertainment at the ice cream parlor.

Brit appeared at the door. “Please come in, Grampy; it's not the same without you.”

How did one resist a plea like that? He followed her in.
They probably just want me to pay. I think for a change I'll stand my ground.

“What'll it be, sir?”

“One scoop Jamoca Almond Fudge in a sugar cone.”

Brit looked up at him over the cone. “How come you always get the same kind?” She licked around her cone, catching the drips.

“Because it's my favorite, but Grammy doesn't like it much, so I never buy it for home.” He took his cone and thanked the young man, at the same time digging in his back pocket for his wallet.

“The bill is already paid, sir. Enjoy your ice cream.”

“Oh. Thank you.” He turned to look at Mona, who shook her head.

Marit whispered as she herded the troops out the door, “We don't just invite you along to pay, you know. We like your company.” She raised her voice. “Careful, everybody, so you don't drop your ice cream. Torin, settle down. Jake…”

“Too late,” Ken murmured so only Mona heard him.

Jake stood staring at the blob of ice cream on the sidewalk, screwed his face up, and started to wail.

“What did I tell you, buddy?” Marit crouched in front of him. “Wouldn't have happened if you'd not been chasing Torin.”

“I want more ice cream.”

“What did I tell you?”

“But I didn't mean to.”

“I'm sure you didn't, but you need to listen and do what I tell you.” She took out a tissue and mopped his eyes. “Now you can go ahead and eat your cone. There must be some ice cream down in it, and next time—listen up.” She stood and headed for one of the benches.

It was all Ken could do to not hand his cone to his grandson, but he well knew this was what the pros liked to call a teachable moment.

Mellie heaved a dramatically heavy sigh and stood in front of her brother. “I'll share mine with you, but you can't hold it.”

“Want my own ice cream.” He took two bites from Mellie's cone, grabbed it, threw it on the concrete, and stomped on it.

All the kids froze, eyes swiveling to Marit. Ken and Mona stared at each other. If this were a college student, how would Ken handle it? Was this his problem? After all, he was in loco parentis, but he had no idea how to respond.

Thank God, Marit took over, but then, she was not just a teacher, but a teacher of special-needs children. She no doubt knew how to handle tantrums. “Everybody, go ahead and finish your ice cream; use the wipes in the car to get the sticky off. Jake, here's a paper napkin. Please pick that up and throw it in the trash. You cannot leave here until you do.”

His glare could have started a bonfire.

The standoff lasted as all the others climbed back into the car, finished their ice cream, and wiped their hands. Ken waited beside the car door.

“Come on, Dad, we'll all wait in the car where we can be comfortable.” Marit said it loudly, no doubt to make certain Jakey heard. Her tone of voice sounded as if  temper tantrums like this happened every day and this was no big deal. Jake would have to learn.

When Grampy climbed in the car, Jake's eyes widened. He stared at the car full of his family, down at the smashed cone still in the paper wrap, and back to Marit. A big fat tear trickled down his cheek, glinting in the lights above and from the windows.

The stubbornness in his face defied description.

“There's no use all of us wasting time. Mom, if you'll stay with Jakey, I'll drive the rest of us back home and return for you.” Marit leaned forward in the driver's seat as Mona slid out. The engine roared to life. In fact, Ken noted, Marit was gunning it a little extra.

“Nooooo!” Jakey wailed. “No! Don't leave me!” He bent over, picked up most of the cone, dumped it in the trash, and ran to the open car door.

Ken lifted him into his seat, and Mona handed him a wipe before she got back in. Marit backed out and tooled out into the street. What a battle of wills. How his daughter managed to stay so cool through it all, Ken would never know. One thing he did know; he couldn't have done it. He reached forward and patted her shoulder, leaving his hand there a moment. “Well done.”

Back at their house, Marit drove in and stopped. “We're heading on home, church tomorrow but no Sunday school. Need to get baths and all that. Thanks for coming with.” Marit added, “By the way, Mom and Dad, don't worry about Jake's tantrum or his thumb-sucking. With all he's gone through, he's doing well.”

“Guess we're seeing your expensive college education in action, teacher.” Mona sounded as proud as Ken felt.

“I think so. Night.”

“Thanks for the ice cream,” Ken called. The two kids dutifully followed Ken's example and walked with him and Mona to the house, waving as they walked.

Ambrose thwacked him with his tail, and Ken leaned over for the ritual greeting, no matter how long or short a time they'd been gone. “Where's your buddy, or are we going to hear a scream from the kid again?”

Later with the kids in bed and the other two in their normal places—Hyacinth on Mona's lap and Ambrose snoring beside the recliner—Ken exhaled as if from his toes.

Mona looked up from her laptop. “That bad?”

“I'm in need of a break, and they've not been here two weeks yet.”

“Bible School starts Monday, so you'll have that time alone. Unless, of course, you are planning on assisting at VBS?”

He felt his eyes widen. “You're kidding, right? You didn't volunteer me for something?”

“No, but they always need help, and grandpas are always in big demand.”

“Not this grandpa. And I told Magnus tomorrow I would help him put up those shelves and some other stuff.”

She nodded. “I had forgotten that. You want tea? Iced is in the fridge, but if you are thinking hot, I'll start it. I need to do some other things in there anyway.” She set her laptop on the coffee table.

“Hot, some of that chamomile mix. Thanks, hon.”

He could hear her banging around in the other room but didn't even have the energy to offer to help. They hadn't walked for a week now, and the week before the kids came, they walked every evening if not in the morning. Even with all the craziness at the office, they'd taken time to go walk.
This has to stop or I will have to join the gym. Or walk by myself.
That might be the answer until they got some kind of a routine going here.

“Here you go.” She set his steaming mug on the coaster waiting for it. Setting her own mug down, she collapsed into her recliner and kicked it back.