The Old House

by Willo Davis Roberts

  “At Willits, in northern California. They think probably only a few days, but I don’t want to wait until I can take him home before I come get you. I mean, we don’t even have a home now, do we? So I don’t know where we’ll go, actually, but Dad’ll probably help us decide that after he’s had something to eat and some rest. He said he kept thinking about those steaks we were going to have when he got home, but for right now the nurse said he’ll probably get hot soup and crackers.”

  “How come it took so long to find him?” Buddy wanted to know. “How come nobody noticed he’d been in a wreck?”

  Bart sounded so close, she could have reached out and touched him, and she wished she could, and Dad, too. “The truck was swept through the railing and down the side of the mountain by a gigantic mud slide. Remember, it had been raining for days? A chunk of the mountain above the road came down, and just swept everything over the edge. It carried the truck and Dad and Rich along with it, and practically buried them. They went down almost four hundred feet, and nobody could see the wreckage from the road up over their heads.”

  Buddy shuddered, imagining how close they’d come to losing their father. “How did you find him, then?”

  “Well, I was asking at every place I came to, all along that stretch of road. Several people—a waitress, and a guy at a fuel stop—remembered seeing the truck and Dad and Rich. So I knew they’d gone a certain distance. I saw there had been trouble with the road—it’s still only one lane along that stretch because they have to rebuild a section of it—and when I couldn’t run down any trace of them beyond that point, I talked to the local sheriff’s department and then to the trucking company in Lewiston again. I knew they couldn’t have stolen a load of lumber or anything else; there was no place they could have gone in that area. Nobody had even thought of looking through all the debris at the bottom of the cliff. There were rocks in it, big as cars, and trees, tumbled every which way, all over the top of the mud. Their CB didn’t work down there, couldn’t get out to reach anybody so far above them. There’s a river at the bottom of the canyon, but no roads into that area. The search and rescue people came, and some of them went down on ropes because the canyon was too narrow to check it out with a helicopter. I was standing there on what’s left of the highway when they signaled that they’d found the truck, and for a few minutes none of us up there knew whether Dad had survived the wreck or not. Then some more guys went down on ropes, and they got shovels and stuff to dig them out, and brought Dad and Rich up on those metal mesh stretchers.”

  Buddy shuddered, imagining what it must have been like to stand there, watching and wondering if Dad was still alive or if he’d died in the wreck, maybe even suffocated in the mud that covered his rig. “It must have been horrible,” she murmured.

  “Well, it was some relief when they let us know both Dad and Rich were alive. But they looked awful when they came up over the edge of the canyon. I mean, besides being really dirty and bloody because they had cuts and scratches, Dad looked half-starved. He said Rich had had a couple of candy bars in a jacket pocket, and Dad had some peanuts. That’s all they’d had to eat the whole time. And they’d each had a Thermos of coffee. After that ran out, they didn’t have anything to drink. And of course they’d both been several days without shaving, so they looked pretty grim. But Dad knew I was there, and he reached out and squeezed my hand and said my name. And he asked about you.”

  So much for all those people who’d insisted he must have abandoned them, Buddy thought, tearing up again. She’d known he’d never have done any such thing. “And he’s going to be all right, isn’t he? He’s going to heal back to normal?” she asked.

  “They’re pretty sure he is. Only it’ll take a while.”

  Buddy licked her lips, glancing up at the audience that had gathered around her—both aunts and Grandpa. “What will we do until he’s better?”

  “I haven’t figured that out yet. But don’t worry,” Bart told her. “At least we’ll all be together again.”

  Cassie made a sound, deep in her throat. “He’s hurt, right? He’s going to need some time to recuperate. And you don’t have a house anymore.”

  Addie moved, just a little, as if to stop Cassie from making an offer, but she didn’t say anything.

  “He could come here,” Cassie said. “Bart could bring him here.”

  This time, Addie spoke. “Where are you going to put them? Two more people? Cassie, we don’t have the space.”

  “Are you still holding a grudge against him for marrying EllaBelle?” Cassie challenged her. “You could move your desk and computer into your bedroom for a few weeks, couldn’t you? We could set up a bed in the back bedroom for Dan; there’s still the bed that was in there years ago. And there are twin beds in Max’s room. He wouldn’t mind sharing with Bart for a while.”

  Addie’s face had flamed bright pink. “I’m not holding a grudge because he married Ellie! For pete’s sake, Cassie!”

  “Well, then, Buddy, tell them to come here until he’s well enough to go back to work. That way you and Bart could go to school and not get behind.”

  Buddy didn’t want to go back to school. She’d hoped when Addie came to take her home that she would never have to walk back into Mrs. Hope’s classroom with all those strange kids looking at her. But a man just out of the hospital, with very little money, couldn’t live in a car.

  On the phone, Bart was demanding, “What’s going on? What are they saying?”

  “Let me talk to him,” Cassie said, and took the receiver out of Buddy’s hand and began to lay out her idea for him. When she finished, she smiled and handed it back to Buddy. “He thinks that would probably work,” she said. “Better than coming here and taking you away when you don’t have a place to live. If it’s only going to be a few days before Dan’s released from the hospital, it would make more sense for them both to come here. He’s going to talk to Dan and see what he says.”

  Dad would probably say, “Yes, thank you,” Buddy thought. And maybe it would be easier than anything else they could do right away. “What do you think?” she asked her brother, and heard relief in Bart’s voice.

  “It sounds better than holing up in a motel, when we’re short of money already,” he said. “He’ll have comp payments until he can work again, but I guess they aren’t very much. I’ll talk to Dad and call you back, okay?”

  “Where are you sleeping now?” Buddy demanded. “Not still in the car, I hope.”

  “No, they’re letting me take the other bed in Dad’s room. Hang in there, Buddy, till I get back to you.”

  She felt very, shaky as she hung up the phone. “He’s going to talk to Dad,” she said, addressing Cassie.

  “Good. Dan’s smart enough to do the sensible thing, which is to stay here. He’s not going to call back right away, now, so you might as well go back to school, honey.”

  “No,” Buddy protested. “It’s almost time for school to get out, and I’d just disrupt the class going back in now.”

  Unexpectedly Addie came to her aid. “She’s right. What difference does one afternoon make? She can come upstairs and help me start clearing out that back bedroom so we can set up the bed in there again.”

  “Can I have my old room back?” Grandpa asked. “I always liked my old room.”

  “No, dear,” Cassie said. “Gus and I are in that room now. And you had trouble on the stairs, remember? We don’t want you to fall down the stairs again.”

  Grandpa scowled. “Did I fall down the stairs?”

  “Yes. Twice,” Cassie told him. “Go along, then, Buddy, and help Addie. This will all work out just fine. Did they say when they’d pay you for the book, Addie? How long it would be before you have the money?”

  “No. Not until after I’ve made the revisions they asked for, I suppose,” Addie said. “I’m still in shock. I don’t quite believe it yet, that it’s finally happened. I always thought it would happen eventually, though, even if Gus thought I was wasting my time.”


  “You always told good stories, Addie,” Cassie said. “I prayed that you’d sell one sometime.”

  “I’ll sell more than one,” Addie said, her good spirits returning. “This is the sixth publisher who’s seen this book, and they liked it. Maybe they’ll like some of the other ones I’ve got stuck in a drawer upstairs. They haven’t seen my newest one that just came back from another publisher. Come on, Buddy, let’s go see what we can do to make room for two more people.”

  Buddy trailed her up the stairs, torn between joy over her father’s rescue and despair over being stuck in school there for a few more weeks, or even months.

  She remembered, somewhat belatedly, to say a silent Thank you, God as she followed Addie into the room that had served her as an office. Now if she could just figure out what had happened to the money that Addie thought her mother had stolen, everything would be all right. At least much better, she amended, thinking of Grandpa and the problems he had. Much, much better for her and Bart and Dad, anyway.

  She couldn’t bear to have anyone think that her mother had been a thief. She was certain it wasn’t true, but she didn’t know any way to prove it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “What’s going on?” Max demanded, sticking his head through the doorway to where Addie and Buddy were wrestling to set up an old-fashioned brass bed in the back bedroom where Addie’s desk had been.

  “Bart found my dad,” Buddy told him, beaming. “He’s going to come here to recuperate when he gets out of the hospital.”

  “No kidding! What happened to him?”

  For once the story hadn’t gotten all over town within ten minutes. Buddy happily related as much as she knew while Addie went off to get sheets and blankets.

  “That’s great,” Max said. He was carrying the kitten, which purred loudly against his chest as he stroked him. “I heard you went home from school, but nobody knew why.”

  “Did you get the letter that came today? Was it from your mom?”

  “I didn’t see it. It wasn’t with the mail downstairs. Maybe Addie picked it up,” Max guessed. “Sometimes she sticks it in her pocket so my old man doesn’t see it. He froths at the mouth when anybody mentions my mom. I don’t know why. Sure, she left him, but he deserved it. And he’s married to Cassie now, so why does he care about what my mom does?”

  “Did you talk to Addie at all? Did she tell you her news?”

  Max stopped petting the kitten. “No. What?”

  Addie came to the doorway behind him, her arms full of linens. “I sold a book.”

  Max’s eyes went wide. “A book? You sold one of ’em? Wow! Did they send you a check?”

  “No. I have to do some revisions on it first, then sign the contract and send it back before they get to that. But they’ve offered me ten thousand dollars. That’s not too bad for a first book, do you think? Well, of course it isn’t my first book, it’s just my first sale.”

  Max let out a triumphant yelp. “All right! I hope my old man turned green.”

  A small smile softened Addie’s mouth. “Almost, I think. I reminded him of what he’d said about my wasting time.”

  “What did he say?” Max asked eagerly.

  “Not much of anything. I think Gus was speechless for once.” Addie plunked the bedding down on a chair and picked out a fitted sheet. “Grab that corner, Buddy.”

  “Wish he’d stay that way,” Max said. “But he probably won’t. Did I get a letter from my mom?”

  “Yes. I almost forgot about it.” Addie pulled it out of her pocket and handed it over.

  “Congratulations,” Max said, taking the letter. “I hope you sell all the rest of them, too. Come on, Scamp, let’s go read our letter.”

  Buddy was somewhat disappointed when Max retreated to his own room. She’d hoped he had good news, too, and that he’d share it.

  Some of what she was feeling must have shown on her face, for Addie paused in the act of putting a flowered case on a pillow. “He always likes to read the letters from his mother in private. I suspect sometimes they make him cry, and he doesn’t want anyone to see him.”

  “Oh,” Buddy said. “I hope it’s a nice letter. You have wonderful news today, and so do I. I want Max to have something good to think about, too.”

  “He doesn’t have an easy time, with Gus for a father,” Addie said, plumping the pillow and placing it on the bed, then reaching for the other one. “But he’s a good kid. He’ll be all right.”

  Silently, Buddy helped finish making up the bed for her father, including smoothing out the bedspread to go over it. Her own future was uncertain—how long would Dad be unable to work? Would he get this newest job back when he could drive again? And where would they go, back to Washington State or somewhere else? But at least Dad was alive, and he’d get back on his feet, and they’d be together somewhere as a family again.

  “There,” Addie said as they straightened up across the bed from each other. “I’m sorry we can’t find somewhere else to put the rest of those boxes. There’s not much room in the attic, and those stairs are enough to kill anybody. But at least he can rest comfortably. Now I need to arrange the stuff we moved out of here. Will you help me set up the computer and printer in my bedroom so I can work there? I want to do those revisions as soon as I can.”

  They walked down the hallway together to Addie’s room. “You said you based a little girl character on my mother,” Buddy said. “Why?”

  “Why?” Addie echoed. “Well, because she was a charming little girl, and I wanted a character like that.”

  “So you liked her before she . . . ran off and married my dad.”

  “Of course I liked her,” Addie said. She shoved the desk into a better position and lifted the computer monitor onto it. “Can you get down under the desk and plug this in? I guess I’ll have to put the printer on the other side now. There’s an outlet right in the middle under there, so I’ll pass that cord down to you, too.”

  “But if you really liked her, how could you hate her now?” Buddy wanted to know.

  Addie gave her an exasperated look. “I don’t hate her. I’ll admit I resented it when she showed up and made Dan forget all about me. I really thought he was going to marry me, and it was . . . very disappointing, when they just took off together. It was a big shock, and very humiliating. In a town the size of this one, everybody knew about it and felt sorry for me. It’s uncomfortable to have people pitying you.”

  Buddy, down on her knees, plugged in the two electrical cords, then backed out of the kneehole on the desk. “They fell in love. I don’t think either of them meant to hurt you, Aunt Addie.”

  “No, I don’t suppose they did. But it did hurt.” Addie lifted the power tower and set it beside the monitor, busy hooking up connections. “There, let’s see if we’ve done it right so it works.” She started pressing buttons, and the monitor lighted up for her to check her password. “Good. I’m ready to go to work.”

  Buddy stood up and hesitated, wanting to say more, afraid to do it. “I don’t see how you can believe that Mama was a thief. That she stole Grandpa’s money. She always taught Bart and me to be truthful, to be honest. Once, Bart swiped a candy bar in a store and she made him take it back and apologize. Why did you think she stole money from Grandpa?”

  Addie stood very still. “Because she was the only one who could have taken it. I’m sorry, Buddy, but she was here the day the money was delivered to Grandpa. It was foolish, but he insisted on cash instead of a check because he didn’t trust the man who was buying the store. Well, that part wasn’t foolish—Alf Peterson really wasn’t trustworthy—but we should have insisted on a cashier’s check for the major share of the money and not let Grandpa dictate the terms. He had all that cash in a bag, a small case, and we expected to take it to the bank later in the day. Only when we went to get it, it was gone.”

  Buddy stared at her, incredulous. “But that’s crazy! Mama couldn’t have taken it! She never would have done something like that! If you kn
ew her, how could you even think it?”

  Addie was reacting as if to something very stressful. Her face had once more gone very pink, and now was so white that Buddy wondered if she was about to faint, but she stood there supporting herself with a hand on the edge of the desk.

  “Obviously you don’t understand what the situation was, Buddy. She knew that Dan and I had been seeing each other while she was away at college. Yet she blew in here in a swirl of curls and pretty skirts and swept him right out from under my nose, and they ran off and got married without even telling me. Up until then, I’d trusted her, but I was never able to trust her again.”

  “But that was years ago! I don’t think she even knew you were in love with Dad; she never said anything except that you’d been friends. And if Dad had been in love with you, he never would have eloped with her! She never knew why you cut her off the way you did, didn’t write to her or anything. She’d say, ‘We used to be friends, when I was a kid,’ but she couldn’t have known, Aunt Addie!”

  “She was your mother,” Addie said, sounding cold. “So naturally you thought well of her. But EllaBelle was here on the day Grandpa got the money for the store, and she helped him pack it in that bag, and Herbert Faulkner saw the bag beside her on the seat as she was leaving town. He admitted that to me later, and while he’s a little wimp of a school principal, I never had any reason to believe he was a liar. It was a distinctive bag, a flowered one, that had belonged to Cassie. She’d loaned it to him to carry the money, and Herbert saw it. He couldn’t possibly have been mistaken in that.”

  Buddy felt as if someone had struck her in the chest, knocking all the wind out of her. “But someone must have been mistaken! Mama never would have stolen anything from anyone, let alone Grandpa! She loved him! She loved all of her family! She used to tell wonderful stories of when she was a little girl, and how much she loved living here with the rest of you!”

  “She chose a peculiar way to show it,” Addie said, and that apparently was to be the end of the conversation. She picked up the thick manila envelope from her dresser, where Buddy had seen it the first time she was in this room, and ripped it open with a dagger-like implement.