Aggie says: Yeah. Something like that. But, then again, I talked to Mrs. Dyke and I think it’s something more. I think he’s more interested in the house… or rather NOT interested in the house. I think if I lived anywhere else, he’d be both happier and less interested in me.
Tina says: that’s ridiculous.
Aggie says: Well, you’ll have to see when you get here.
Tina says: Ok. I guess I’ll go pack the rest of my boxes.
Aggie says: Ok… no matchmaking when you’re here. I have very good friends in Luke and William, and I don’t want to ruin that.
Tina says: Fine then, I’ll leave my Yente shawl at home.
Aggie says: Silly. Goodnight! Poofs!
Tina says: Poof.
Chapter 22
Friends
Saturday, July 20th
Luke, William, and Laird half-dragged, half-carried a huge farmhouse trestle table into the dining room. It needed to be refinished, but with a good scrubbing and a large tablecloth, it’d work for dinner. Vannie pawed through boxes, trying to find tablecloths and napkins to run through the washing machine. When the table was in place, scrubbed, and ready for the linens, Aggie looked around the house. The living room, library, downstairs bathroom, mudroom, and dining room were the only rooms that remained to be completed. As soon as the children went back to school, Aggie hoped to work on her bedroom and more on the yard.
For the first time ever, Aggie knew why mothers looked forward to their children going back to school. She also knew that she would miss them. The idea of home schooling flitted across her mind again, but Aggie had enough to do without adding in more work. She decided to think about it again next summer when the house would be done and she had at least a year of mothering under her belt.
“Luke, where did you find this great table? I love it!” Aggie watched, as the men hefted a huge lazy Susan onto the top of the table and fitted it into the hole provided.
“There was an auction in Ferndale a few weeks ago, and I went looking for pieces for a couple of my rentals. When I saw this, I knew it was exactly what you needed, so I nabbed it.”
Luke was like a child in a toyshop with the table. He reached down and picked up Ian. “Here, bud, try this for size.” Luke sat the baby in the middle of the lazy Susan and slowly spun him in circles. The children all begged to try, but Luke, realizing the example he’d set wasn’t optimal, shook his head.
“Sorry, guys, I shouldn’t have done that. Don’t ever sit on this. The baby doesn’t weigh much more than a dressed turkey, but you are all too big.”
“That’s right, guys. It’s an instant twenty minutes of work to anyone who attempts it. We have to take care of things, so they’ll last.” Cari and Lorna exchanged glances, but Aggie saw them and stopped their mental shenanigans. “And that goes for you girls, too. You can scrub walls until your fingers pucker if anyone sees you on that table.” Her tone was firm, but she winked at the girls to soften the disappointment, leaving William amazed at how successful her interaction with them was. Things that would make many mothers lash out at the children, never seemed to faze her.
Sunday, July 21st
Sunday morning dawned bright and surprisingly cool. Rain was forecasted for the evening, and it was keeping the day much cooler than the previous weeks had been. Aggie dressed carefully. For reasons she couldn’t identify, making the best impression possible on Luke’s mother was very important to her. Knocking on Vannie’s door, Aggie called to her and told her to get ready for church. Down one side of the hallway, and up the other, Aggie went and awakened the family.
After six months of Sundays, Aggie had learned that, for everyone but Ian, granola bars were the most filling and cleanest foods she could feed them. She fed Ian and set him in the makeshift playroom, with Tavish keeping watch from a nearby couch. She wondered as she left them, if she called on him too often for that job. Brushing the twins’ pixies, Aggie sighed over their lost curls. A real mother would have known to take pictures of the crazy events surrounding those cuts; Aggie hadn’t. With a million things to do before leaving for church, Aggie forced herself to let the guilt go.
Her family was ready and at church on time, much to Aggie’s delight. It was one of those rare and magnificent days, where everything rolled smoothly without any hiccoughs. She had learned to treasure days like those-- they were too few and far between. She was so amazed how much more quickly things could be done when the house wasn’t in a constant state of emergency.
Once by their usual pew, Aggie placed the children in their seats in order of whom she was likely to have to correct most. Since becoming a fulltime Mother-Aunt, Aggie had spent most of her Sunday mornings training children to sit quietly, whisper, go to the bathroom before they left for church, and similarly exciting things. She had begun to wonder if the Apostle Paul was referring to Sunday mornings when he said that women would be “saved through childbearing if they continued to persevere.”
Aggie spied Luke escorting his mother into the church. The middle-aged woman, dressed in a classic summer dress, walked beside him with her arm tucked in his in the quaint way of days gone by. Luke led his mother to Aggie, who stood to welcome her. “I’m so pleased to meet you, Mrs. Sullivan. Thank you for coming.”
Libby Sullivan smiled at Aggie. Luke’s mother had wondered what kind of young woman “Mibs” was. Her son spoke of the Stuart-Milliken family so often, that Libby had been concerned for him. A compassionate man like Luke could become emotionally entangled with the wrong woman if that woman knew how to play her cards right. One look at Aggie, as her eyes slid sideways and she shook her head at a little girl swinging her feet and kicking the pew in front of her, and Mrs. Sullivan knew that she didn’t need to worry. This young woman seemed more focused on her children than trying to entice Luke’s emotions.
“Thank you for your invitation. Luke speaks of you and your family so often that you feel like a friend already.” Mrs. Sullivan turned her attention to Luke. “Will you go help Zeke get Rodney out of his seat? He always has trouble trying to figure those things out, but he insists on trying.”
Libby seated herself between Luke and Aggie. Zeke, next to his wife Martha on the other side of Luke, held a little redheaded boy with big blue eyes and tried to help the child sign the song Jesus Loves the Little Children. Aggie hadn’t thought to teach such a little one sign language, but she held Ian’s hands and made the signs with him.
What had begun as a smooth and cooperative morning, slowly dissolved into reminders of proper behavior and consideration for others. Ian sat peacefully on Luke’s lap and fell asleep mid-service, but Kenzie and Cari both found themselves outside and in trouble for their antics. The end of the service couldn’t come soon enough.
Aggie was relieved when, as she stood outside the door supervising her troublesome children, she heard the final hymn swell in the auditorium. Cari’s nose popped out of the corner she’d been facing, but Aggie’s narrowed gaze sent her face back to the corner where a crack in the mortar piqued her curiosity. The first person out the doors was Ellene, with William following quickly. It was evident that Aggie’s neighbor was not happy to be at the service.
She wanted to talk and enjoy a little fellowship with her church family, but Aggie knew she needed to get the children home, where she could more easily deal with them if they got out of line. So, with a wave and enough apologies to show her friends how embarrassed she was, Aggie ordered her clan into the van and drove home, the Sullivans following behind in Luke’s truck. The temptation to drill them on proper behavior was nearly overwhelming, but Aggie knew it was wrong to demand that they perform to make her look good.
At home, Vannie took the little girls to change into play clothes, while Luke changed Ian. Watching her son tickle the baby as he swapped a dress shirt and pants for shorts and a onesie, Libby squeezed Aggie’s hand affectionately. “Aggie, I can see why my Luke is always talking about your family; he seems right at home. I thank you for allowing him to get his
kid fix while he’s working.”
Aggie smiled. “You’d think, with as much time as these children seem to steal from him, that he’d not get anything done at all, but you should see everything he’s accomplished!” Aggie hesitated and then asked, “Would you like to see the house? I took before and after pictures, but I don’t have them printed yet. The rooms might be a little messy, though. I haven’t learned the art of everything staying neat on Saturday nights and Sundays.”
The tour was short but fun. Libby seemed to love what they had all done to decorate and make the rooms special, but when they reached Aggie’s room, the woman shook her head and said, “Don’t neglect your private space, Aggie. This room will be a sanctuary when days are hard. Make it one that will help refresh you.”
Aggie took her words to heart and led her guest to the kitchen. Libby Sullivan exclaimed over the island. “Luke! You did it! How marvelous! Oh, son, you will have to make me one when you have the time. I just love it. Rodney and the girls would have such fun working with me at a spot like this.” She raved about the style of the room, her son’s workmanship, and even the paint on the walls. Aggie noticed how genuine the woman sounded, in spite of her profusions. she began to suspect that Luke must be the apple of his mother’s lovely blue eyes.
“Mrs. Sullivan, I love this kitchen, but I need to brighten it up. I chose that milk white for the walls, and I’m thinking about adding some stripes or something, but I don’t know much about decorating. I want something cheery, with some green and red, but I don’t want it to look like a Christmas kitchen. Do you have any suggestions?”
Libby Sullivan looked around the room for a moment before speaking. “I have one idea. Why don’t you find a lovely geranium print for curtains and then maybe you can add baskets or red speckled graniteware or something? It would be so pretty and bright in here!”
Aggie, seeing a spot over the large side window that could hold a plate rail for graniteware, nodded her head in agreement. Red geraniums would be perfect for her new kitchen, and, doing things that way, when the curtains faded or wore out, she could change the entire look for relatively little expense. She mentally decorated her kitchen as they placed the platters of food on the dining room table and called everyone in to eat just as Zeke and Martha arrived.
Zeke said a simple heartfelt grace, and everyone ate and chatted. The meal was merry and full of laughter and mishaps. After the third glass of milk spilled, Mrs. Sullivan went into the kitchen in search of different glasses. Finding a few pint-sized canning jars, she came back and poured the children’s drinks in them. “These are the same width on the bottom as on top. It makes it harder to knock over. You might consider buying more, or finding different glasses.”
Aggie murmured her thanks. She realized how much someone with Mrs. Sullivan’s experience could teach her. As she loaded the dishwasher, she pulled Luke aside and asked what he thought of his mother giving her homemaking lessons. “Do you think she’d think that was weird? I could really use some help, and she seems to know all the things I want and need to learn.”
Luke swallowed hard. Tears threatened, but he managed to hide his emotions. Something about Aggie asking for his mother’s help touched a very tender spot in his heart. He smiled. Knowing he wasn’t speaking prematurely, Luke said, “I am certain that she would be thrilled to do it. Say the word, and I’ll ask.”
Nodding eagerly, she went back to her dishes. She wondered at how Luke hadn’t needed to search for words, but a smiling Mrs. Sullivan interrupted her thoughts. “My Luke tells me you would like me to help you simplify housekeeping. I think that would be lovely. Why don’t I call you in a few days and see when would be convenient?”
Aggie remembered Tina’s impending visit and said, “Well, I couldn’t start immediately; my friend Tina is coming this evening, and I am hoping to get to spend as much time as possible with her.” Raising her voice dramatically, so Luke could hear her, She continued. “I’m also planning on bugging Luke to watch the children a few times…”
Luke turned and smiled his yes. Zeke boomed out a hearty, “Martha and I’d be glad to help too, wouldn’t we, Martha?” while the children squealed with delight.
Aggie led Mrs. Sullivan out to the porch and tried to describe what she hoped do with it. The porch floor was slated to be the last thing painted, but Mrs. Sullivan suggested painting it immediately. “I can tell how much you want to use the porch as living space, and if you wait for the rest to be done, you won’t get to use it this year. As a matter of fact, I’d even bring out your wicker things now. They can be moved onto the lawn and covered with tarps while the boards dry.”
Aggie blushed and confessed that she hadn’t bought any yet. “I keep meaning to look for them, but I haven’t had time. I can just picture coming out here before the children wake up, reading my Bible, praying, and sipping on my favorite coffee…”
While Libby, Martha, and Zeke explored the changes outside, Aggie dashed upstairs and changed her clothes. She’d eaten and cleaned up in her nicer clothes without creating a stain, but she was tempting Providence to wear them any longer. For the second time since becoming a mother of eight, Aggie wondered what she should wear. She didn’t want to throw on her work clothes; they were looking a little ratty these days. She finally pulled out her favorite denim skirt that she’d reserved for after renovations were over. The skirt had been expensive. It was butter soft and draped beautifully. Knowing it was her most flattering color, Aggie pulled out a thin green plaid top, raced into her bathroom, and dressed quickly.
Aggie had no illusions about her beauty. She’d always considered her looks average enough to keep her from being remarkably ugly or gorgeous. However, she also knew that she looked best with her hair hanging around her face. After debating a few moments, Aggie sighed, picked up the brush, and pulled her hair into a ponytail. In a fit of whimsy, Aggie divided her ponytail in half. With her hair pulled out, side-to-side, she looked like Pippi Longstocking. She did a silly little head dance and sang, “I am Aggie-Millie-Mommy how I love my happy game--” An indiscernible movement in the mirror froze her mid-song. Turning slowly, she found Luke leaning against her bedroom doorjamb, grinning.
“Well, Aggie-Millie-Mommy, would you like some blackberry cobbler?”
Aggie tried to act affronted; she even tried to convince herself she should be offended, but her sense of humor demanded that she see the amusing side of the situation. Unconsciously, she gave her hair one last smoothing and straightened her skirt. As she walked out of her room, she stuck her tongue out at Luke in a most unladylike fashion.
If she thought she would distract him, she was wrong. Luke, still leaning on the door jam, waited until she was halfway down the hallway and said, “Aggie, you look very nice. Then again, you always do.”
She glanced back at him, but Luke didn’t move, and he didn’t say anything more. Unsure how to respond, Aggie settled for a simple thank you and hoped that he wouldn’t be offended by her lack of enthusiasm. “What’s gotten into him?” she muttered to herself, thinking she wouldn’t be overheard.
“Can’t imagine.” This time, his voice was near her ear.
Aggie jumped. How did he move so quickly and quietly? “Well, I can’t either!”
“Can’t what, Aunt Aggie?” Kenzie looked up the stairs expectantly.
“Can’t wait to try this cobbler. Blackberry is my favorite.” Aggie grinned at the little girl and accepted the plate Libby offered her.
Halfway through dessert, Libby spoke. “How selfish can I be? I’ve been struggling within myself since you shared your ideas for the porch.”
“Why? Do you have a different idea?” Aggie took another bite and tried to decide how to show Libby that she wouldn’t take offense at alternate suggestions.
“No, I was thinking about my mother-in-law’s wicker furniture. It would look so lovely on your wide porch, but I was hesitant to offer it. It’s all been covered in sheets up in my attic for years, because I have no room for it al
l, whatsoever. If you’d like them, I’ll send them out with Luke tomorrow.”
“I can’t take your mother-in-law’s things! They belong in your family. Surely one of your daughters--”
“Mom’s right. They’ve been up there since I was in high school. If any of the girls wanted them, they’d have asked by now.” He waved his hands at her objections and motioned for Laird to follow him. “I’m going to go get them now.”
An hour later, Luke and Laird unloaded the loveliest wicker settee, chairs, and table that she’d ever seen. There was even a matching hammock chair to hang from the porch roof. Aggie had always wanted one of those hanging chairs. The weaving pattern looked ripped from the pages of Southern Living magazine, and Aggie gasped as Luke set them down in the curved section of the porch in exactly the places she’d hoped to put them. “They’re so beautiful! Are you sure you want to part with them?”
Libby nodded. “I’m happy to see them loved by someone who appreciates them like Mama Sullivan did.”
“I just can’t imagine anything more per--” Aggie’s words caught in her throat, as Luke pulled the cushions from behind the seat of his truck. “--fect.” The cushions were hideous.
Before Aggie could find a way to ignore the atrocious print on the cushions, Libby shook her head in disgust. “Now, I know the cushions are horrible. I mean, I still can’t understand how Mama Sullivan tolerated something so vile. But, you can get some new ones on clearance this time of year.” Libby Sullivan’s eyes twinkled. “I considered raving about them to see what you’d do, but honestly, what can you say about them that isn’t awful? My daughter, Corinne, says that Grammie was into Shabby Chic, without the chic.”
While discussing the merits of different fabrics and colors, Aggie noticed a familiar car pass her road and continue down the highway. “Oh, my, I think that was Tina. She missed the street. I think I’ll go down to the corner at the highway and flag her down.”
Ready or Not (Aggie's Inheritance) Page 33
