Homecoming

by Janet Wellington

  She positioned the paper in the middle of the table and looked around the kitchen. Now all it needed was a family to enjoy it. It—and the whole house—had turned out so perfectly.

  ***

  Jake guessed by looking at the house that she probably wasn’t there. Damn. He’d had just the right words on his tongue, and now they’d be wasted unless he decided to practice them on the cats.

  He opened the door and saw Winston in his cat-sentry position guarding the hallway. “Well, where is she?” Jake ducked his head into the parlor and living room, seeing no sign of her. “Cory?” He knew he was wasting his breath but it felt kind of nice just saying her name out loud.

  Emptiness answered, and he made his way to the kitchen where, if she’d left a note, it would likely be on the table. It had become their communication spot, ever since that first note that had been the beginning of the end of his deception.

  He sighed a heavy breath. So much had happened between them, so many emotional ups and downs. And yet, she was always ready to get through whatever it was, move on and forget about it.

  He would miss that.

  Spying the note, he picked it up and read it fairly easily. Without the added pressure of feeling nervous, he found his reading came much easier and he could call on the mental tools he’d learned over the years that helped keep his brain on track.

  It was just like her to help cushion Ted from having to make all the decisions on his own by tagging along with him to the funeral parlor. Had she taken care of all the details for Tillie too? He’d never even thought to ask; another item to add to his apology to her...his ‘thank-you speech,’ he’d begun to think. At this rate, he’d need to schedule a friggin’ all day meeting in order to tell her everything he wanted her to hear.

  The doorbell rang, and Jake dropped the note to go answer it. When he opened the door, he saw a young boy, maybe twelve, standing at the edge of the steps holding a dollar between his thumb and first finger. A bicycle lay on its side on the lawn, its front tire still spinning.

  “You Mr. Randall?” he asked breathlessly.

  “That’s me.”

  “Mr. Weismann said if I found you before six o’clock and gave you a message he’d let me trade this dollar in for a five! I was just about to give up on finding you.”

  “Well, good for you for trying once more—what’s the message?”

  “Oh...right. He wants to talk to you tonight if you can go to his office at around seven. Can I tell him you’ll come?”

  Jake nodded and watched the boy race down the steps, shove the dollar in a back pocket, and lift his bike up. He started running it down the street, one foot on a pedal, eventually swinging the other over the bar and finding the other pedal. He disappeared between two houses as he took a shortcut back toward town.

  Glancing at his watch, Jake decided he had plenty of time to make a sandwich before the meeting; probably final papers to sign. And now he’d be asking Weismann to come up with a new set of papers, papers that would award the entire house to Cory.

  A feeling of satisfaction filled him as he pivoted and headed back to the kitchen.

  ***

  Jake rapped on the frosted glass of the attorney’s office door and listened for footsteps.

  “Come in, come in,” Weismann said as he opened the door, then stuck out his hand. “Good to see you, Jake. So glad you could come over on such short notice.”

  Jake followed the attorney into the office and sat in the same chair he’d sat in three months ago. He shook his head in amazement, once again, at how much his life had been affected by his visit to Faythe. He’d been filled with suspicions the last time he’d met with Tillie’s attorney, now he felt like Santa Claus, eager to get things started, eager to legally give his half to Cory

  “Shouldn’t we wait for Cory to be here too?” Jake asked, settling into the chair, glancing at the empty one beside him.

  “I’ll set another appointment for the both of you, but I needed to finish up some things that were meant for only you, per Tillie’s final requests.”

  Only him? Jake watched as Weismann swiveled in his chair and scooted toward the tall filing cabinet. He pulled that same large manila envelope out of a drawer and put in on the desk.

  “Oh, by the way, I heard about Ted’s sister. Shame, with her being so young and all. Heard her boy was staying with you and Cory at the house—that right?”

  Jake nodded as he watched him dump the contents of the large envelope onto the desk. Out of it came the DVD and the three white envelopes. Now two were opened, the last one still sealed. He’d totally forgotten about the third sealed envelope and the DVD.

  The attorney glanced up at Jake for a moment, then took the DVD and popped it into a compact television/DVD-player on a table at one end of the desk.

  “What’s that?” Jake asked.

  “Well, Tillie had me make a DVD of her. I kind of laughed when she asked me to do it, but now I’m thinking of offering it to everyone as part of making their will.” Weismann handed Jake the remote. “I’m going to let you watch this by yourself, son. I’ll be in the next room. Just knock on that door when you’re ready for me.”

  Jake watched as Weismann went into the next room, closing the door softly behind him. Then he looked at the remote and pressed the play button.

  Tillie’s image appeared on the small screen. She was sitting in the parlor at the house. Winston was in his typical spot in the window standing guard, and Max was in her lap. She was dressed in a navy blue dress that had a white lace color, her thick gray hair pulled away from her face, probably in her signature bun.

  She looked frail and much thinner than when he’d seen her last, but her eyes were firmly fixed on the camera. In the background, he heard Weismann’s voice say, “Go ahead, Tillie.”

  She cleared her throat, stroked Max, and lifted her chin just a little.

  “Jacob, dear, I wanted to make this for you. I guess I’m supposed to say something like ‘if you’re watching this, that means I’m gone’ or something of that nature.”

  She chuckled nervously and he saw her chest rise as she took a deep breath before continuing.

  “It also means I didn’t get a chance to say the things I wanted to say to you—that we missed each other. So, give this old lady a few minutes...it’s important for you to know some things, dear, things that I was told to never tell you. But, I’ve decided it’s better you know.”

  Jake stared at his great-aunt. There was concern in the expression of her face, but something else too. Regret?

  “Quite a while after you’d left Faythe, I found out something about your father and Cory’s father. I didn’t even know about Cory in those days”—she raised her finger, shaking it at the camera—“and it would have been nice to know you had a gal, then. But, nevermind...anyway, Cory’s father felt she was getting too serious about you and thought she wouldn’t go off to college because of you. He gave your father some money to get him to hurry up and get you that job at the factory and start pressuring you. Your father figured you would run...that was part of the plan.

  “He figured you’d be better off, Jacob, if you left Faythe. Though he never showed it, in his own way he wanted something better for you.”

  The words bounced in his brain. It was unbelievable. He focused on Tillie’s face and she seemed more relaxed, her smile more content.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, dear. It didn’t seem to matter until Cory came into my life and I put all the pieces together and figured out she was your Cory. I didn’t know how to tell her, Jacob, and I didn’t think it was my place. You’ll have to decide if you want her to know.”

  Jake tucked that decision away for later, after he’d had a while to let it sink in.

  Tillie’s face broke into a wide smile, and he saw the familiar twinkle in her eye that was always ready for him whenever they’d spent time together. “I don’t know if you’ve taken down all these pictures.” She turned a little in her chair to point to the
mantel and the wall of photos behind her.

  A shiver ran down Jake’s spine. Only a week ago he had finally talked Cory into boxing the photos up. He’d suggested she take them to the ladies at the church who might be able to redistribute them to relatives that were still in town. It seemed so odd to have strangers’ pictures in the parlor just taking up wall space. Maybe now the mystery of the photos would be solved since Cory had never provided any details.

  “These are some of my best matches. It’s been a bit of a hobby with me, I suppose some would say, to play matchmaker in Faythe. I brought all these people together, Jake. All these people behind me fell in love and married.”

  The camera zoomed in a little, and Tillie leaned over to pick up something off the floor. She held up the charcoal drawing of the young man that Cory had had matted and framed; now it hung in a prime spot on the parlor wall.

  “This was my one and only love, Jake. I never told you about him. No one knew, really. His father didn’t approve of us—we were so young. And of course my father didn’t think he was good enough for me.”

  Jake stared at the drawing, then at Tillie’s face. Her eyes had welled up and she pulled a hankie from the cuff of her sleeve to dab at her eyes before she continued.

  “Sean...was...my...heart. I never found another to take his place, so—I guess almost as a kind of therapy—I fell into the game of putting other people together. A silliness, I suppose, but it was so rewarding when it worked out. Then, when I figured out who Cory was after she came to live with me, and remembered about what your father did...I thought I had one more match in me. You and Cory.

  “So, dear, I don’t know how things worked out. And I suppose it doesn’t matter. But, if it did, well...Al has one more bit of my estate to discuss with you.”

  The third envelope.

  Tillie paused and looked down at Max, then finally up at the camera. “Jacob, I’m sure there was a good reason you didn’t answer my letter, so don’t spend another minute worrying about it. Promise me?”

  Jake nodded at the television, the weight lifting off his shoulders, the ache he’d been holding in his heart lessening just a little.

  “I guess there are a few more things I want to say...mostly I guess I want to tell you to follow your heart—no matter what people think, even what you think. You are a fine person, Jacob Randall, and you are your own person. We all are a product of where we came from and what has happened to us...but that doesn’t mean we have to let these things dictate who we are or what we do...forever.

  “There is great value in forgiveness, dear, and that includes forgiving others as well as ourselves. Cory and I have had so many wonderful chats over the last year—about life and regrets and things we would change if we could. We’ve solved the world’s problems time and again, but somehow no one ever asked us what to do.”

  She chuckled and winked at the camera. “But we always ended our conversation the same. We reminded each other what we needed to do most was learn to treasure the moment, and that all we truly had was that instant in time.

  “In the big scheme of things, Jacob, our time is indeed so very, very short. And this moment, right now, is the time to live your dreams. People wait and wait—they’ll take that trip after they retire, or they’ll write that letter later, or they’ll wait until they can make the time, which never seems to happen. It’s all rubbish. Do it now, or don’t!”

  Tillie’s brow furrowed as the passion of her convictions shone bright in her eyes. As she seemed to realize the intensity of her words, she pulled in another deep breath, and looked at the drawing of Sean for a few seconds, then finally back at the camera.

  “I want you to promise me one more thing, dear. I want you to promise me you’ll take some time to figure out what your heart is saying to you. Let your heart be your compass. Let your heart guide you when your mind is confused and you’re going in a hundred different directions trying to please everyone but yourself.

  “You know, I never stopped looking for love, but for me I didn’t have a second chance. So, if a second chance comes to you, don’t ignore it for heaven’s sake.”

  Jake watched Tillie shake her head as though she were almost ready to scold him, but then changed her mind.

  “So, there’s not much else to say, I suppose. I’m trusting the house is finished, the cats are taken care of, and now you are making final decisions. I trust both you and Cory implicitly to do what’s right and best.

  “Jacob, thank you for sticking with your old auntie through the years, for taking time for me and allowing me to watch how you’ve grown into such an interesting and good person. You are someone I would have chosen to know, and it’s been my pleasure to know you and to love you. I’ve had a wonderful life, my dear, and hope the rest of yours is as rewarding.”

  Tillie’s gaze shifted to a spot above the camera, and she nodded her head. Then the screen went blank.

  If there were to be a universal sound depicting peace, I would surely vote for the purr.

  Barbara L. Diamond

  Chapter 18

  When Jake pulled into the driveway, the house was dark. Cory still wasn’t home. He hadn’t expected her to be, but had hoped...a little.

  He went inside, knelt on one knee to rub Winston’s head, then climbed the stairs to his room where he retrieved the old sketchbook from the attic that Cory had insisted he keep as a memento. He took it with him downstairs to the kitchen, and found the pencil Cory always kept in a drawer with a pad of scratch paper. Then he retrieved Tillie’s photo album they’d found in the trunk, and sat at the kitchen table and flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for.

  Back in the parlor he unpacked the box of photos of Tillie’s matches and put them all back on the mantel, then rehung the collaged pictures on the wall above the fireplace.

  He sat and stared a long time at the image of Sean, then opened his sketchbook to the last blank page and began to draw.

  It had to be just right. He had to capture the expression in Tillie’s eyes when she’d talked about her love for the young man she’d lost. He worked slowly and deliberately on the sketch, emptying his mind of everything but the task.

  ***

  Cory waved to Ted from the porch. It had been an exhausting evening, but with her help Ted had finalized all the arrangements for his sister’s cremation and memorial service.

  The parlor light was on, so Jake was at least back. She was glad to not be coming home to an empty house and a night of wondering if he was all right.

  She opened the door quietly, then went into the parlor to turn off the light before heading to bed. She stopped in the doorway, staring at the fireplace. All the pictures they’d packed had been returned to the mantel, even to the wall above.

  And something new had been added.

  She walked toward the drawing of the young man that had so captured her when she’d seen it in the sketchbook. Next to it on the mantel, leaning against the wall, was a new drawing. One of a beautiful young woman. She ran her fingertip over the long curl that hung over the woman’s shoulder. The woman’s adoring gaze was toward the young man, whose eyes were also on her. It was eerily realistic, as though the drawings might come to life any moment.

  Cory turned around to flip the light off, then saw Jake asleep on the divan against the wall. He looked completely at peace.

  She watched him as he slept. His hair had grown long over the last three months, and now fell charmingly over his forehead making him look more like he did in his youth. Her heart swelled and she admitted to herself, at that moment, that she had fallen in love...all over again. Maybe someday Jake would realize he was nothing like his own father, that he could live his own life without the fear of guaranteed failure if he gave his heart to someone...to anyone. Maybe someday he would find a way to trust again.

  Maybe in time—

  Jake groaned in his sleep. She hated to disturb him, but he’d be stiff and sore in the morning if he slept all night bent like a pretze
l on the small sofa.

  Cory knelt on the floor next to the divan.

  Jake’s eyes fluttered open to see Cory’s face directly in front of him. He reached his hand out to touch her hair. “Pretty Cory,” he whispered. Her eyes flared too quickly for her to disguise her pleasure at his words.

  “I like the new drawing,” she whispered.

  “I found out about the other one.” He sat up, then reached for Cory’s hand to help her up off her knees, then tugged at it to guide her to sit down next to him.

  “Who was it?”

  “Tillie’s fella,” he said. “Her first and only love. His name was Sean. They saw each other in secret; both parents disapproved. Then he went off to war and never came home. He was declared missing at first, and later ‘killed in action.’”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “I went to Al’s office this evening while you were gone; he told me about what happened to Sean. And Tillie had made a DVD for me; she talked about her years of matchmaking...and all those pictures.”

  “So you put them back.”

  “They stay.” He watched as her eyes opened wide. “And I want to stay...if you’ll let me.”

  “What?” Intense astonishment paled her face.

  “Tillie said a lot of things in that DVD, cleared up some of the confusion in my own head. Cory, you’d probably find someone who might be a better man than me, but you’ll never find someone who loves you more than I do. I never stopped loving you; I just thought you deserved more than I thought I could give. But now I don’t feel like I’m chained to my past. Tillie reminded me about some things that I’d forgotten.”

  Jake reached in his pocket. “And Tillie left one more thing for me. She said if I could use it, it was mine.” When he opened his fingers, in the palm of his hand was a ring. He held it out, watching Cory’s gaze drop to the large heart-shaped ruby.

  He reached his hand out to tip her chin up so he could see her eyes, knowing they would hold the truth. He took a deep breath, then said, “Cory, stay with me. Marry me and let’s make Tillie’s house a home again.”