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Authors: Lauraine Snelling

The Second Half (7 page)

BOOK: The Second Half
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G
o ahead and have supper. I'll get something on my way home.”

Mona glanced at the clock. Already seven. “I could bring you a picnic.”

“No thanks, I don't want to stop right now.”

She could hear not only weariness in Ken's voice, but also a feeling of defeat. Her mother bear came into full force. Right now she could quite cheerfully take on those closed-minded autocrats who only believed in the bottom line. Ken had given his life to that place and this was the way they repaid him? But dumping these evaluations on him right now was the last thing he needed.

There had been talk about hiring him part-time as a consultant after he retired, but as far as she was concerned, they had burned their bridges. If they didn't listen when he was still head of the department, why would they later?

“I wish there was some way I could help you.”

“Thanks, I'll call you when I am ready to leave. Oh, any word on Steig?”

“Not since five. They were stopped at a rest area in Kansas.”

“Okay. Later.” He hung up.

She glared at the phone in her hand, then down at the dog, who scratched at her leg with one paw. “No!”

Ambrose dropped to the floor, his eyes pleading for mercy. Mercy was what they all needed right now.

“I'm sorry, I know you were only trying to help.” She puffed out a sigh. A walk would do both her and the two critters more good than pacing here. “Okay, a short walk.” The dog leaped to his feet and scrabbled across the tile floor to stand under the hanging leashes, tail waving, tongue lolling. Hyacinth strolled on over and sat down, as if to say,
If you insist, I will accompany you. But only for Ambrose's sake
.

Mona stuffed plastic bags in her pocket, fixed collars and leashes in place, and followed them out the door. At least she was able to give someone pleasure.

They'd gotten down to the river path when her phone announced Marit. Without preamble, Mona announced, “We're walking, your father is still at the office, and the last I heard from Steig at five, they were at a rest stop in Kansas.”

“Guess that answered everything. Call me if you hear anything. The kids and I are watching that goofy cartoon feature with a reindeer. Or moose. Something. Magnus is stuck at the office, too. You want to come over here?”

“No thanks. Later.” She knew she'd been abrupt, but right now that was all she could manage.
You should just enjoy the walk,
her naggy voice said. Well, easier said than done. She should have stayed home tuned to the weather channel. Or folding that last load of clothes or baking something or…She put both leashes in one hand and rubbed her forehead with the other. Maybe an ice pack on the back of her neck would help. How would they ever get all the paperwork and official legal hoopla done before Steig had to leave on Monday? Where did he have to report? How would the kids adapt? After all, they'd not stayed by themselves with Grampy and Grammy before, thanks to Angela's selfishness. Would Jakey remember them? It was over a year since they had seen them other than on Skype, and his tolerance for that was about a minute. Or less. Melinda, however, loved to chat with them. They'd been six months without their mother now. Oh, those poor kids. How long would they have to pay for the disruption of their family? More than disruption. Destruction? Of course, Steig was doing all he could, but the kids needed a mom. But one who thought more of them than of herself. That they'd never had.

“Okay, kids, I've worried all the way so far, and I certainly didn't intend to. Let's go back; it's my turn to have supper.” They both looked up at her as if they understood every word. Her mind took off again. How would the two kids do with the two animals? What if someone was allergic? That thought made her almost choke. At least they were not bringing in pets that needed to be integrated. She had a feeling from something said one time that Angela did not tolerate pets. Or perhaps she was the allergic one.
Please, Lord, no allergies.
She did her poop-scooping job and dumped the bag in one of the trash cans along the path. Walking again, her inner monologue picked up even more forcefully. What could she do to gain some more clients? What a dumb idea; maybe God was trying to protect her with a light client load until their house settled into some kind of routine. One thing would be different from when she was raising kids: Ken would be home to help.

But he wanted to travel, not all the time, but a couple of times at least. And she liked the idea; get away so he was not tempted to try to help his department. Not that it would be his department after Friday. That led to her running down the list of things for the celebratory dinner on Friday, not that she was supposed to have any responsibilities for that.
Now you're worrying about things for which you have no responsibilities! Stop
it!
But really, the surprise party on Saturday was
all
her ball game.
Lord, please change the weather patterns around so we can have it at the park.
Sometimes she hated watching or even glancing at the weather maps.

She unclipped her phone from her waistband and hit Marit's number. “What will the children do if it's storming on Saturday? There is an outdoor area where we can barbecue, but…”

“I have it covered, Mom. I told you I would.”

“But they're supposed to go fishing early.”

“Magnus made arrangements for something else; not sure what, but he is good at that, you know. All is under control.”

“I'll be so glad when this weekend is over…”

“I'll have five kids; going to be a fun time at our house.”

“Maybe we better just cancel.”

“No! Everything is under control.”

Mona sank down on the second step leading to the deck. “Be a miracle if I don't have a nervous breakdown over all this. The mess in Dad's department might be the straw that breaks this camel's back.”

“Mom, that is not your problem! Stop worrying!”

“It is mine since it's bothering your father. He's not sleeping, therefore, I'm not sleeping well, and this thing with Steig.” She blew out a breath. “I gotta remember that this is no surprise to God, so He has a plan.”

“Be nice if He clued you in.”

“Yeah, it would, but…” Her stomach rumbled. “I better go eat.”

“Kinda late, isn't it?”

“I was hoping your dad would get home, and after he called, I took the twins here for their walk and now I'm starving. Thank you.”

“Wish I could help you more.”

“I'd say you are doing a hefty share. Bye.” She clicked off the phone and hauled herself upright. Now to decide what to have. They mounted the steps; she hung up their harnesses and both animals headed to the kitchen for a drink and a treat. Creatures of habit, that was for sure. After washing her hands, she stared into the refrigerator. Leftover chicken casserole, leftover meat loaf and half a baked potato, a salad with chicken on it, a ham sandwich with chips—why did none of that sound good? She pulled out the casserole, the easiest to fix, then slid it back on the shelf. Surely a sandwich. But all she had was white bread.
Ugh.
Back to the casserole. While her bowl was heating in the microwave, she dug in a box for some crackers and poured a glass of lemonade.

“Okay, kids, the porch or the family room?” Did she want to watch the river or the weather channel or one of the cooking shows she had saved? Food on a tray, she stopped in the family room and, tray on the table, sank into her recliner. Ken did not particularly like cooking shows, so she'd watch one now. She flicked through the list to
Pioneer Woman
and clicked on the longest-waiting episode. She'd learned to keep a pad and paper at hand in case there was a recipe or a tip that she'd want to remember. Tray on her lap, she kicked the recliner back and settled in.

After all, this might be the last evening she had alone in who knew how long, if ever again.
Only a year.
You will have children here full-time for only a year, maybe even six months. That is not a lifetime.

Tristan und Isolde.
Steig's song.

Eagerly she thumbed the phone on. “How far are you?”

“Halfway up Iowa, and I really need to stop. The kids can swim off some of their energy at a motel, and I can sit on a recliner with a glass of iced tea and watch.”

“Bad?”

“Not really, I know I could push on, but…maybe I'll even go swimming with them.”

She could hear him thinking that this might be his last chance to play in a pool with his children for a long time.

“Anyway, we should be there early afternoon tomorrow if we leave at five. Today they slept until after eight.” Even his voice sounded weary.

“Thanks for letting me know. Dad is still at work, so you can guess what is going on there. Say hello to Melinda and Jakey for me.”

“See you tomorrow. Oh, by the way, she wants to be called Mellie. Wait. Mellie wants to talk to you.”

She heard, “Me too, me too,” before Mellie's voice sparkled, “Hi, Grammy, we get to see you tomorrow.”

“I know, we're all ready. Ambrose will be so happy to see you.”

“Jakey doesn't like dogs much.”

Oh, great. Mona closed her eyes and leaned her head back. “Why?”

“Mommy said dogs are icky and give you germs.”

“And cats?”

“He doesn't like them much either 'cause they scratch.”

“Well, I guess we'll just have to teach him that Ambrose and Hyacinth are good friends and not like lots of other animals.”

“I love 'em both. 'Member when Ambrose pulled me and Arne in the wagon and we got dumped out?”

“I do, we all laughed so hard and poor Ambrose couldn't figure it out. We'll have to see if we can get him to do that again.”

“I have my bike and Jakey has a three-wheeler. Daddy said we can ride on the path by the river. Do you and Grampy have bikes?”

“No, but that is a good idea. You ask him about that, okay?”

“Daddy says I got to hang up; we just turned in to a motel. I love you, Grammy.”

She heard another “Me too, me too,” as the phone clicked off. So Angela passed her fear of animals on to at least one of her children. And there was a Norwegian elkhound at Marit's house. They'd better turn Jakey into a dog lover real quick. She texted Steig's message to Marit and added,
Stopping in Iowa. Jakey doesn't like dogs and cats.

A few seconds later, one appeared on her phone.
Guess we'll have to take care of that. Have I ever mentioned how not sorry I am that she left?

Mona hit the smiley face icon on her phone.

She took her tray into the kitchen, put stuff away, and brought the last load from the dryer so she could sit on the sofa and fold while she watched another episode. Perhaps she should put the Ree Drummond cookbooks on her Christmas list. Ken was always asking her what she wanted for both birthdays and Christmas. But when the time came, she could never think of something. Not that she had a lack of lists anywhere.

When ten o'clock chimed and still no Ken, she went upstairs to get ready for bed. Of course, there was no chance she'd fall asleep until he got home, but reading in bed was about the only thing that seemed appealing. Concentrating took more effort than she had to give. Ken's song.
Thank you, Lord.

“I'm just leaving the office.”

“Don't stop. I'll have something ready for you here.”

“Keep it simple; not sure I have the energy to lift a fork.” He paused and she could hear him start the car. “I finished the reviews. Tomorrow we interview through the first run.”

“Good for you. See you in twenty minutes. Meat loaf and baked potato.” She knew those were his favorites.

“Okay. Thanks.”

She texted Marit.
On his way home.

Marit was a night owl like her mother used to be.
Good. Give him a sleeping pill.

Night.

Downstairs she set up his plate and set it in the microwave, fixed a small green salad and a glass of lemonade, and the tray was ready. Letting the animals out for their final run of the day, she stood on the back porch and listened to the night sounds. Frogs from their fountain and the marsh by the river, crickets, and was that a wood thrush's fluting song? Sure enough. They seemed to be arriving earlier these last few years. A great horned owl hooted. Sometimes a pair nested in that old pine tree, in the big hole about ten feet up. Mona could teach the kids to watch for the babies.

So much to share with grandchildren. Melinda, Mellie, was old enough to learn to crochet. Grammy needed to add to the craft supplies kept in two drawers in the family room. Rainy-day activities. Car lights turning into their driveway. “Dad's home!” Both animals ran to her side, or rather Ambrose ran and Hyacinth did her regal stroll, tail straight up.

Mona went inside to start the microwave.

“Thank you,” Ken said a few minutes later, when he sat down at the table.

“If you would rather eat in your chair.”

“No, this is fine.” He bowed his head for grace and then propped his elbows on the table. “How are Steig and the kids?”

“Stopped for the night.”

“Good, I was concerned about his pushing on through tonight.”

“How…” She stopped when he raised his hand, as if stopping traffic.

“I do not want to talk about work, okay?”

“Sure.” She sat down on a chair across from him. When had she last seen such purple shadows beneath his eyes? He appeared to have aged ten years in the last three days. His usually straight shoulders curved. Was his hand shaking, too? She watched to see if the tremor continued. Was he that tired or was something else going on physically? Surely not. She snagged her mind back from galloping off in a terrifying direction.
Worry! More worry!
Why could she not control the urge to fret about things that did not come to pass? And yet, usually her husband was the poster child for a healthy sixtyish man. In fact, no one could believe he really was sixty-four. Even the doctor who had known them for twenty, no twenty-five years, had to check his medical chart.

BOOK: The Second Half
4.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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