Ready or Not (Aggie's Inheritance)

by Havig, Chautona

  Aggie says: GREAT idea. I love it. If they each do a page or three…

  Tina says: That’s the spirit.

  Aggie says: Well… honestly, I’m going to go do some overhauling of my spirit. You go to bed.

  Tina says: Good idea. Nighters.

  Chapter 19

  Stand Off

  Monday, July 8th

  While William scraped the eaves and soffits, the boys worked on the planks on the east side of the house. Not to be left out of the fun, Aggie brushed the crevices of the porch railing with a steel wire brush until perspiration soaked her t-shirt in the summer heat. Vannie divided her time between supervising the Monday maintenance chores Aggie had instituted and matching socks from her bed. Ian played at her feet, as she directed the twins to put their stuffed animals back in the corner net, reassemble their dollhouse rooms, and called them back for the dozenth time to retrieve yet another shirt or dress that they hadn’t worn but had dumped in the laundry pile outside Vannie’s door.

  “Aunt Aggie, I think they’re ready for inspection,” Vannie called from the window above the porch corner, where Aggie sanded and brushed a particularly difficult section of the railing.

  “I’ll be right up.” She glanced down the side of the house where William stood on the ladder, his shirt soaked with sweat, hat covering his eyes, and face flecked with paint shavings. He’d worked for two hours without even a quick break for water.

  Inside, Aggie washed her hands and face, drying them as she climbed the stairs. The gate in Vannie’s doorway kept Ian in, and the laundry-tossing twins and their various articles of clothing, out of the tidy room. Clipboard with checklist in hand, she stepped into Laird’s room and surveyed it closely. The bed was stripped, fresh sheets were folded and waiting for him to remake his bed, trash emptied, laundry basket emptied, and his closet-- “Ugh,” she sighed. Well, she’d have him check that later. A thick layer of dust on the windowsill sent her pen scribbling across her checklist with a new task for the children-- dusting. Would she ever remember it all?

  Once the rooms were checked, with the detestable list she forced herself to use, despite the fact it made her feel more like a drill sergeant than a mother figure, Aggie jogged downstairs. The difference between floors was staggering. Now that the upstairs, with the exception of her bedroom, was completely refurbished with fresh coats of paint, appropriate furniture and décor, and refinished flooring, the downstairs looked even shabbier than ever. For the next week or two she’d be doing dishes in the odd laundry sink that Luke had installed, tearing off drywall, ripping up flooring, and, in general, preparing the kitchen for Luke’s return. The result of her initial labors was a heavy layer of filth all over the furniture and floors on the first floor. Old sheets covered the couch and all other fabric covered furniture, but the table and chairs weren’t safe to sit on, unless you liked the lighter-backside look to your clothing, and it would only get worse.

  From the fridge that now blocked part of the entry to the kitchen, Aggie pulled a can of lemonade from the freezer compartment and dug through a plastic storage tote for the pitcher. She carefully replaced the lid and then growled under her breath to see both the plates and glasses totes with lids standing against their sides. Humming Sweet Will of God as she whisked the frozen glob of lemony goodness into the pitcher of water, Aggie prepared herself to find the culprits and make them return the lids to their rightful totes. She didn’t have time to rewash dishes because children were too lazy to move a lid twelve inches.

  “…what power from Thee, my soul can sever? The center of God’s will, my home. Sweet will of God, still fold me closer, ‘til I am wholly lost in Thee…”

  When she came back, Aggie called for William, as she poured glasses of lemonade on the front porch. “You’ve been working too long without some fluids; come on down.”

  William gratefully accepted the glass she offered him and drained it in seconds. Undaunted, Aggie poured another glass and shoved it at him. “Drink. I’ll be back in a minute. The boys probably need some too. Oh, and I have to see who was in the dish totes last.”

  Resting in the shade of the porch, Aggie and William sipped more lemonade and discussed their progress. She felt strange discussing her renovations with anyone but Luke. She’d spent the past month getting Luke’s opinion and advice on everything from paint brands to designing her kitchen. William was the man who came out on 9-1-1 calls or to rescue her from Geraldine. Seeing him covered with paint chips seemed incongruous with the militaristic neatness he usually exuded.

  “Have you decided on what color you are going to paint the house? I have vacation time on the books, so I talked to Frank, and he said I could take it now if I wanted.”

  “Oh, William, I appreciate that, but you can’t use your vacation to work on my house. You work hard and need a vacation that lets you relax. Painting doesn’t exactly qualify.”

  “Aggie, honestly, I would really like to do this for you. I am not handy with things like kitchens and wiring and stuff like that, but I can scrape and paint. I’m good with yard work too. Let me contribute. It’ll also give us time to get to know each other better, and we did decide we wanted to try that.”

  Smiling, Aggie handed him another glass of lemonade. “Ok then, it’s a deal, but I get to feed you, and you have to stay for a movie now and then.” She hesitated as though second-guessing herself, and then shook her head. “And, William, thanks.”

  “So about paint…” There was a wistfulness-- almost an eagerness to his voice.

  “Well, there was this house down the street from us in Yorktown. It was yellow with white trim and shutters and a green door-- almost emerald green. It was such a cheerful and cozy house. I might do something similar.”

  Aggie was utterly unprepared for William’s reaction-- make that, overreaction. “No. I think that you should reconsider. Any other color or color combination would be preferable. Use orange if you must, but I think yellow and white is just tired. Besides, the green door would clash with your living room.”

  William’s tone was adamant. She’d seen him act oddly about the house now and then, and this seemed to be another one of those times. Why should he care what color she chose for the house? He didn’t have to live there! She’d paint it whatever color she liked-- and that was yellow. To be fair, she knew that until that minute, she hadn’t been sure. However, his imperious attitude irritated her into stubborn obstinacy. Aggie started to tell him as much, but Vannie dashed up the porch steps carrying the mail.

  “Aunt Aggie! Look at the house on the cover of this magazine!” Vannie’s face was alight with excitement.

  Aggie looked at the house. It was striking, somewhat elegant even, but charming. The picture showed a very pale dove gray house, trimmed in glossy black paint, and boasted a cherry red door. Hanging from the eaves, red geraniums gave the house the homey look she’d tried so hard to achieve. The house style was nearly identical to their home, and Aggie felt as though the magazine challenged her to duplicate it. Instantly, without hesitation or a hint of doubt, Aggie changed her mind. Pointing to the cover, she passed the magazine to William and insisted, “I want this.”

  Relief flooded William’s face, and it puzzled Aggie, but she didn’t have time to think about it. He didn’t have a chance to comment before she called for the youngest four children to load up in the van. “We’re going to run to Brunswick and get the paint. I’ll leave Laird, Ellie, and Tavish with you and take the rest, ok?”

  William nodded and poured the last of the lemonade from the pitcher into his glass. He watched them drive away and sighed at the glass he’d already drained. Oh, well, it was time to get back to work anyway. This was going to be an unusual vacation, but if he were honest with himself, he’d have to admit he was looking forward to it.

  Thursday, July 11th

  Just after six a.m., the “William Tell Overture” interrupted Aggie’s fitful sleep. Groggy, she fumbled for the phone. “Hello?”

  As though speaking to
her from another universe, a voice gently broke through the fog into her consciousness. “Aggie? This is Luke. Did I wake you up?”

  She struggled into a semi-sitting position, stretched while stifling a yawn, and tried to concentrate. “I didn’t sleep well. It’s Laird’s birthday today, and I have no idea how to make it special.” A yawn interrupted her jumbled explanation. “I wanted to make sure their birthdays this year were memorable. Something good to remember this year, you know?” Aggie was rambling, knew it, and frankly was too exhausted to care.

  “Well, actually, that’s why I’m calling. I had an idea for kind of a guy’s night out type party for him.” Luke hurried to share his plan. “We’ll have cake and ice cream with everyone, and then Uncle Zeke, the boys, and I can pitch a tent in the front yard and camp out there. It wouldn’t be the same as going to the lake or up by Little Vienna, but with a hibachi bonfire and a tent, it’ll feel authentic enough.” The eagerness in his voice made her wonder who would have more fun, Laird or Luke. “Oh, and I’d love to bring my nephew, Justus, if you’re comfortable with that.”

  “I think that’d be fun. We could have a scavenger hunt!”

  “Aggie, there aren’t very many houses on your street…” Luke’s voice was skeptical.

  “I’ll figure something out. Trust me. Oh, and I’ll have to make him a cake-- or buy one-- and…”

  “Aggie,” Luke interrupted, “Mom wanted to do something for him too, and I know she’d be thrilled to bake the cake for you. She loves cake decorating and baking. Let her do it?”

  Aggie agreed readily. Her cakes were fine if she used a box mix and a plastic can of frosting. Her only scratch cake had been a dismal failure, and her single attempt at decorating had been infinitely worse. Luke promised to arrive as close to four o’clock as possible, and Aggie promised to have dinner and a party ready by five.

  Eagerly, she grabbed her Bible, made a cup of coffee, and crept out to the back swing for a little “closet time” with the Lord. Aggie’s morning trysts with her Abba, as Tina always called the Lord, gave Aggie fuel for each day’s trials and triumphs. She realized that since becoming guardian and ad-hock mother to the children, her relationship with the Lord was stronger and sweeter than it had ever been throughout her Christian walk. Continually amazed at the way things definitely did “work together for the good of those that love Him,” Aggie thanked the Lord for the redirection she’d received that cold February morning.

  The day passed in a whirlwind of chores, shopping, and secrets. While Laird tried to wheedle information about his gift from everyone in the house, Aggie and Vannie planned the party, decorated, and wrapped the pocketknife, canteen, backpack, and sleeping bag that Aggie purchased as a nod to the camping theme of the evening. Thus far, Laird was unenlightened about the upcoming evening and the true fun planned for him.

  By four-thirty, Luke and Justus had arrived, bearing the tent, hibachi, and a huge ice chest full of flavored water and sodas. As Laird commented on his favorite, root beer, Luke winked at Aggie. “I just made sure I got stuff without caffeine. I need my sleep too!”

  They grilled hot dogs and hamburgers and ate crisp sweet watermelon that dripped down their chins. Aggie’s scavenger hunt sent them looking for items around the house and yard with which they traded for clues to find Laird’s gifts. The twins, frustrated by their inability to read the clues, huddled under the tree, talking earnestly together and then raced into the house. Aggie didn’t notice, or she would have rushed after them.

  Not to be undone by the bigger children, the twins found the scissors, tape, and the leftover wrapping paper on Aggie’s bed. They each grabbed their favorite stuffed animal and rolled it in paper, cutting--more like tearing-- off excess here, and necessary paper there. With enough tape to supply Santa for a year, the girls secured their papered offerings and scrambled back down the porch steps. “We found them!”

  Luke glanced at Aggie, who shrugged and asked, “What did you find, girls?”

  “The pwesents! Look!” Cari’s voice was indignant. Aggie noticed the earnestness in her tone but missed the challenge to defy the child’s assertion. Luke, however, caught it.

  “Is that a present Aunt Aggie wrapped?” Aggie started to answer, but Luke shook his head almost imperceptibly.

  “Well--” Cari bit her lip. “It has the papew, see? It’s Laiwd’s gifts, and we found them fiwst! We win!”

  Laird arrived just as Luke shook his head. “You’re trying to deceive everyone, Cari. You know that those aren’t the gifts that they’re looking for.”

  Aggie’s eyes narrowed. “May I talk to you, Luke?”

  Without waiting for an answer, she waved Laird on to look for the clues and find his packages, while she mentally prepared to give Luke the tongue lashing of his life. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

  “I am thwarting a child’s attempt to deceive. You told me that if I ever caught them doing wrong, to put a stop to it.”

  “They just wanted to give him a present and be involved in the search too!” Hearing her voice rise with her indignation level, Aggie forced herself to speak more quietly. “Is it really necessary to squash them just because they created their own gift when they couldn’t find the other ones?”

  Luke’s silence nearly sent Aggie to the edge of her wrath. At last, he spoke very quietly. “Well, they are your children, and you most definitely have the right to allow what you choose--”

  “You’re blasted-well right I do--”

  He continued as though she hadn’t said a word. “However, I want you to think like a child for a minute. If you got away with pretending you won a game that you really didn’t, would you expect it to work again the next time? How would you react if it didn’t? Those girls don’t have malicious intent in their deception-- selfish intent, yes, but not malicious. But, if they succeed in being allowed that selfishness, they’ll try it again, and again. Eventually, selfish intent could even become malicious, and all because these things are so cute when the child is three or four. You wouldn’t think it was so cute if Vannie got fed up and went and wrapped her own gift so she’d be able to try to claim the prize.”

  He’d never spoken so many words at once. Furthermore, he was right, and Aggie knew it. The last thing she felt like doing was admitting that he’d caught Cari in yet another situation. She glanced at the child a few feet away and watched the girl’s little fists settle on her hips, trying not to smile at the glare on the girl’s face.

  “Did you see that?”

  “Is she glaring at us? I think I saw her hands move to her hips, but I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing I’m still watching her.” Luke’s voice sounded pained. It took Aggie a moment to realize that it had been hard for him to speak up in the first place and she’d just undermined any authority that he’d established.

  “Will you finish with her? I don’t want her to think she can count on me to rescue her from you.”

  “Are you sure?” he hesitated.

  “I’m definitely sure. I can see the look in her eye. She knew exactly what she was doing.”

  Luke missed most of the scavenger hunt and the unwrapping of presents, as did Cari. Lorna confessed quickly and was sent out to join the rest of the party, but Cari, in her characteristic stubbornness, refused to admit she’d tried to deceive. Had she not shown a clear defiance from the moment they brought the gifts out of the house, Luke might have been conned into believing the child didn’t understand what she’d done wrong. However, Lorna’s parting shot had been, “Vannie says cheaters never popper. I knew we shouldn’t cheat.”

  “We won! We bwought gifts fiwst.”

  “The game was to find the gifts Aunt Aggie hid, and you knew it.”

  “We won.”

  For twenty minutes, Luke waited for the obstinate child to confess that she’d done wrong. Her countenance, her posture, and the hard glint of defiance in her eyes told him she knew it was wrong. She may not have fully understood why, but she’d
known and done it anyway, and that was the problem.

  Cari hadn’t bargained for Luke’s patience. She’d expected him to order, cajole, or even spank her in order to get her to say she’d done wrong, and she had no intention of obeying. She didn’t know what the prize was, but she wanted it-- badly. Luke’s eyes never left her face, making her feel even more uncomfortable than she had the moment he asked if the gifts they’d brought out were Aunt Aggie’s.

  Finally, her little voice, anger seething beneath the surface, growled, “I sowwy I did wwong.”

  “No, you aren’t. You are sorry that you got caught. If I hear you say that pleasantly, I might believe you. But your eyes are angry, your voice is angry, and even your arms are folded across your chest-- because you’re angry.”

  “It’s my pwize!” Defiance roared back to the surface when her lie failed.

  “You will not get a prize for deception and defiance.”

  Ten more minutes passed. Aggie stood outside the door directing games and half-listening. She didn’t want to start singing and serving cake without Luke and Cari, but it was growing late, and it didn’t look like they’d ever be done at this rate. Just as she was about to step inside and ask, Luke’s voice drifted through the door, making her realize that he knew she was listening; and he was answering her question without letting Cari know she’d hear.

  “You know,” Luke glanced at his watch. “I think it’s just about time for them to have cake and ice cream. Then it’ll be time for me to help Laird put up the tent. I can’t do that now. Laird and Justus will have to sleep upstairs tonight after all. So, you and I won’t get any cake or get to see Laird open his gifts, and he won’t get to camp on the front lawn.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I need to stay with you until you decide to confess that you did something wrong.”