Celebrations With Jake and Joe

by Roger W Buenger

  “And George knew where Mary was? How you could find her?” she asked.

  “Yep. Turns out he had stayed in contact with her after I left. She’s in St. Louis. Got married again and had three kids.”

  “Oh my God, so she had children later?” Millie uttered from the sink where she was now working.

  “Yeah, how about that? If the rest isn’t enough, the topper is that it was my fault we couldn’t have children. She blamed herself, but it was me.” He looked down at a bowl now filled with neatly peeled potatoes sitting in front of him.

  Henry gathered the pile of discarded peels and moved toward the waste can. Millie pondered all she had heard so far and felt for him. She knew what it was like to carry a burden, as she had one of her own. She was curious to learn how he had found his absolution and wondered if perhaps someday she might find hers as well. She was a little lost in her own thoughts as Henry returned to his seat and took another swallow from his nearly empty glass.

  “That’s why I drove to St. Louis this morning,” he continued. Millie realized that the most important part of this story still lay ahead, and she returned to the present moment to hear it. She was nearly through mixing the ingredients for the crust and would soon begin rolling out the dough, but the pie was the last thing on her mind at that point.

  “I was nervous, as you might imagine. Hell, I hadn’t seen Mary in over 40 years. The last time we spoke in person was the morning of Christmas Eve in ’53. After that, it was only lawyers and letters. I refused to even hear her voice. So now, I’m just going to show up? I sure didn’t have a clue what to expect.” He reflected for a few seconds and then noticed his sleeve and continued. “So, I put this on because it was her favorite color,” he said, referring to the yellow shirt that he was wearing.

  “That’s a good color on you. I’ve always liked that shirt, too,” Millie interjected as she placed the dough into the glass plate and began to assemble the pie.

  “Why thank you, ma’am.” Henry rose from his chair to make himself another drink.

  “I thought flowers might be a nice ice-breaker, so I stopped on the way. She always liked flowers. I haven’t been in a flower shop since I was married, and too damn rarely even then,” he lamented gently. “The little girl who waited on me suggested a nice spring bouquet heavy on yellow daisies and what you see is everything but those,” he said glancing at the kitchen table. The remainder of the bouquet now stood prominently in a vase where Millie had placed it. “Like I said earlier, Mary thought you were long overdue for some flowers. I’d say she was right.” He stepped back to his seat with a full glass and surveyed the countertops to assess what he might do next to help with dinner.

  “You be sure and thank her for me too,” Millie jumped in. “And thank you ever so much, Henry,” she said as she reached across the island and touched his hand briefly. He was caught off guard by her expression of gratitude, but it pleased him. “They are so nice, and it was such a wonderful gesture. It really means a lot to me. More than you realize.” He couldn’t possibly have known that he had just given her the first bouquet of flowers she had ever received from a man in her entire life. It was a moment she would never forget.

  Henry could hear the sincerity in her voice and feel it in her gentle touch, which despite its fleeting nature was warm and tender. Light smudges of flour from her fingerprints were left behind on the back of his right hand, and he admired them for a brief instant before wiping them away. Millie had a dear heart and a gentle soul, and he cared for her. It was becoming apparent to him that his feelings for Millie were perhaps deeper than he had been consciously aware of prior to this.

  An awkward silence followed but soon passed as Henry asked what he could do next to assist in the dinner preparation. Knowing that he meant well but that trusting him with peeling the potatoes was as far as she was willing to go, Millie asked him to set the table. Henry correctly deduced that he had been bypassed for serious cooking duties but took it all in stride.

  “All right then, so tell me about Mary. How’d that go when you saw her?” she asked, returning the conversation to Henry’s all-important rendezvous.

  “You know something? It was really, really good,” he said, using the same words he had relayed to George earlier. “We had a nice long talk. I didn’t know what to expect, or how I’d feel about it, but afterward I just felt so much better.”

  “Well, what did she say when you just showed up out of nowhere at her door? Has she changed much?” Millie asked.

  It was just then that it dawned on Henry that he had left out one of, if not the most important details of the entire story—the fact that Mary had passed away in 1985. He thought about it for a moment as he placed forks next to their plates on the table and then decided it was time for some fun. After all, he was perfectly aware that she didn’t trust him to help with the cooking, so this was a chance for a little payback.

  “Oh, she didn’t seem too surprised,” he answered slyly.

  “You mean to tell me her ex-husband pops over for a visit after all those years, and she wasn’t shocked?”

  “No, honestly, she didn’t react one way or the other much,” he replied.

  “Wow, she must be one cool customer. I’d have knocked you on the head with my frying pan after putting me through all of that!” she joked as she stirred a pot at the stove.

  Henry was starting to rethink his strategy about teasing Millie in light of the “frying pan” comment but being a brave man, he forged ahead shamelessly anyway.

  “Oh yeah, she’s definitely very cool. Didn’t say a word. She’s a lot better listener than I remembered from our married days. Just a very, very quiet lady. She let me talk and get my side of things out there without ever interrupting. She didn’t have even one negative thing to say to me about it either.”

  “Huh, she sounds like quite a woman!” Millie declared. “So, do you think you all will be friends now? Did she forgive you?”

  “She did. I didn’t expect it, but I am sure that she does forgive me. She could’ve made it hard on me, but she let me off the hook. Believe me, I’m grateful for that,” he said, now returning to his seat with the table fully set and ready for dinner.

  “Has she changed much?” Millie asked innocently.

  “Yes, very much so. But honestly in my mind she’ll always look exactly the way I remember her from 1953.”

  “That’s sweet,” Millie said as she checked the clock and the progress of the food on the stove as well as the pie that was now baking in the oven.

  “We’re about forty-five minutes away here,” she reported as she rinsed a couple of metal bowls in the sink.

  “So, do you think you all will be going out to dinner or something? Might be nice to meet her husband. Maybe George could go too.”

  “No, I don’t see that happening.”

  “Oh, don’t want to get the new rooster together with the old one? Afraid a few feathers might fly?” she prodded playfully. “You never know, might be sparks there yet!”

  “No, it’s not that. It just wouldn’t work.”

  “Well, how do you know if you don’t even try?”

  “Well Millie, it would be problematic because she’s dead.” Henry had dropped the bomb for effect. He had opted earlier to surprise her, but the rooster comment had motivated him to go all in.

  “She’s what?” Millie exclaimed with shock as she spun around to face him. The bowl she was holding slipped out of her hands and created a messy splash of water on the counter as it hit the bottom of the sink. The look of pure satisfaction on Henry’s face was confirmation that she had been had.

  “Dead. Deceased. Not living,” he answered in a matter-of-fact fashion.

  “Well, you ornery son-of-a…” Her voice trailed off as anger swept over her face. She bent down and opened the cabinet in front of her and reached inside. Henry couldn’t see what she was getting because by now his eyes had begun to fill with tears from the laughter that was gripping him. It was not often t
hat he won the battle of wits with Millie these days, but when he did it was truly sweet, and he was relishing it.

  Millie pulled the largest frying pan she could find from the cabinet and raised it with both hands over her head as she stepped around the island toward him.

  “Hey!” Henry squealed in a combination of laughter and sudden fear as he gathered he was about to get the frying pan treatment.

  “Gotcha!” Millie shouted with delight as she lowered the pan to a safer height. Henry exhaled a sigh of relief. Though he was relatively certain she had been joking, he wasn’t totally convinced.

  “I’m sorry, Millie. I just found out yesterday, and I didn’t realize I hadn’t told you until after I was through most of the story just now. By then, I figured I’d have a little fun with you, that’s all.”

  “Ha… ha… ha! Mr. Funny Pants!” Millie groaned slowly in a deep male voice as she placed the frying pan on the stove. “You’re just lucky I didn’t have a heart attack! This has been some day. First, he invites me to dinner, then he goes to see Mary, then he brings me flowers, then he wants to help me cook dinner, then he tells me Mary is dead! That’s a lot of dang surprises for one day!” she muttered under her breath to herself as she heated the pan in preparation to cook their chicken fried steaks.

  Henry’s joy at his ruse had rapidly melted away to regret, and he now felt a little guilty for teasing her.

  “I’m sorry, Millie. It was uncalled for,” he offered as an apology.

  “Darn right, it wasn’t! You can be as sorry as you want while you fix me a drink. I need to talk to Jake,” she laughed as she let Henry know that she wasn’t quite as traumatized by the day’s events as she was putting on.

  “That I can do,” he said as he rushed over to the sink to comply with her request.

  Things having settled down, she now pressed forward. “Ok, so, if Mary has passed, what happened? Did you actually go see her?” she asked in a calmer and more serious tone.

  “Apparently she died from breast cancer in ’85. I went to the cemetery today to pay my respects. She’s buried in Black Jack where we used to live. There’s a Lutheran church there she was fond of. Anyway, I swear to you I spoke to her the same as I am talking to you right now.” There was not a hint of comedy now in Henry’s voice. He had experienced something spiritual and was unashamed and unafraid of it. “I told her everything, and she forgives me.”

  “I sure am sorry to hear about Mary. I really am. And I believe you, Henry.” Her words were not playful any longer either. “I’m so glad you went and talked to her. You’ll be at peace about it now, and that’s what counts.” Millie was truly happy for Henry. She knew what it was like to live with regret, and the peace he had found was something she envied.

  Chapter 2

  Lost and Found

  Millie fried the steaks and finished the preparations for dinner with purpose and passion. She had cooked for Henry for years but had never prepared a meal for the two of them to share together. It felt both exciting and natural to her, and she wanted it to be perfect. For his part, Henry was equally enthusiastic. He turned on the radio in the family room and tuned it to a station with light music that danced through the air. He then retrieved a couple of long pale candles for the table and lit them. With Millie’s flowers as the centerpiece, it was a charming setting. As for Joe, she had long ago taken up a comfortable position on the third stair of the staircase which provided an ideal perch from which to keep an eye on things. She dozed off and on, only occasionally showing mild interest in their movements.

  Henry and Millie’s first official dinner together was an unequivocal success. The food was as delicious as expected, and the conversation was lively and varied. Time passed quickly as they embraced the moment and began to see each other in a different light than perhaps they ever had previously. Before they knew it, they had finished their pie, and the candles were at dramatically lower levels. Henry was savoring the last swallow of his cup of coffee and reflecting on what had been quite a day for him. He also had something he wanted to ask Millie, and this seemed as opportune a time as any.

  “Millie, I’ve been thinking about something for a while now that really is none of my business, but I want to throw it out there,” he began.

  “All right, Henry, what is it?” she asked, uncertain as to where he was going with this.

  “Well, when we were taking Joe to the hospital after she was attacked, you told me that you had a son. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about that.”

  Millie was taken aback by his words. They had covered many topics during their long conversations today, but this wasn’t one she had expected to discuss or had much interest in pursuing.

  “Honestly, Henry, I don’t want to get into that right now,” she said uneasily.

  “I can understand that, but please just hear me out,” he offered gently. After a pause, Millie nodded for him to continue.

  “You said that giving him up for adoption and leaving him was unforgivable, and that it was too late to make it right.”

  Millie nodded in agreement as this was the burden that she carried with her every day of her life. Tears began to well in her eyes as she connected with the pain that the memories and thoughts brought her.

  “Ok, well I am here to tell you that it is never too late. I just proved it this morning. Millie, I feel free. I am so glad that I went and found Mary. I want to give you that. I want to help you find your son Edward,” he said as he reached across the table and took her hand.

  It may have been his kindness, his words, or the thought of reuniting with her son that brought them forth, but tears now streamed down her cheeks. She pulled her hand from his and used her napkin to dry her eyes.

  “I don’t know what to say, Henry. You’re very generous and kind to offer, but I honestly just don’t know what to say,” she mumbled softly.

  “If I’m sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong, I sincerely apologize,” he said.

  “No, no of course not. That’s not it,” she said in a much stronger voice now. “It’s just that I’m scared. I have no idea how to look for him or what I would say or do if I found him. What if he rejects me? What if he does me like I did him?” She paused for a few seconds and looked off into the distance. “It’s just safer not to know.”

  “I understand how you feel, believe me, I do. But not knowing him for the rest of your life sure seems like a stiff price to pay for something that happened 35 years ago. Maybe today’s Millie could find a way to forgive that Millie. Maybe Edward would like the chance to forgive her too.”

  Henry’s words made a lot of sense to her, and she took them to heart. She knew in many ways that he was right and that running from her past was only giving it new life to torture her. She desperately wanted to see her son and to know him. She wanted the chance to explain things and make her own peace with him as Henry had done with George and Mary.

  “For right now, can I just say ‘thank you’ and tell you I will think about it?” she asked softly.

  “Of course you can. My offer doesn’t have an expiration date. But if you decide that you want to do it, I’ll spare no expense, and we’ll find him.” Henry’s tone was firm and resolute.

  Millie sat and stared at the flame of the candle in front of her as she meditated on everything he had just said. For once, she allowed her mind to imagine a happy outcome and it excited her. For all she knew, her son was married and had children too. Grandchildren! Could it be? A slight smile spread across her face as she contemplated the possibilities.

  Henry was pleased when he saw the change in her demeanor. He hadn’t wanted to upset her. He knew this was a very difficult topic for Millie, but he also knew exactly how she felt. His only goal was to relieve her of that regret and set her free from her past as George had done for him.

  “You want some more coffee?” Millie asked, now having nearly fully recovered.

  “No thank you, I think I’m good. Boy, as always, your cooking was superb. By the wa
y, I thought the mashed potatoes were especially good too,” he joked.

  “It was the expert who peeled them that made all the difference, I’d say,” she teased. She then let out a satisfied sigh as she surveyed the table and glanced outside into the darkness that had fallen some time ago. “I sure did enjoy this, Henry, but I’d better do these dishes and get myself on home.”

  “How about I help you?” Henry offered as they stood, and he blew out the candles.

  “Ok then, sounds good. I’ll wash and you dry.”

  They made short work of the dishes and before long all of the leftovers were put away as well. The only evidence of their meal that remained was Millie’s bouquet of flowers on the table. She folded and hung a damp dish towel by the sink and then walked past the table on her way to collect her coat and purse. As she passed, she couldn’t help but stop and lean over to take a final whiff of the fragrance that they provided.

  “Aren’t you going to take those along?” Henry asked.

  “Nah, I’m going to leave them here. I’m here more than there anyway,” she said with a smile as she moved toward the hall tree.

  “Say, Millie, you know it is kind of late. Would you just want to stay?” Henry asked as he stepped toward the hall.

  “Why Henry Engel, are you getting fresh with me?” Millie asked coyly with a faint hint of sass. “I know you’ve had a big day and all, but…”

  “Oh, stop that,” he interrupted, somewhat embarrassed. “You know what I mean. I just thought since it was getting late it might make more sense is all.”

  “Oh, I was just playing,” she said as she returned to the kitchen with her coat on and purse in hand. “My car has perfectly good headlights, and I know the way just fine.”

  “Have it your way then. How about you give me a call when you get home so I know you made it ok?” he asked.

  Millie looked at him and turned her head just a bit as she processed what he had said. In all their years together he had never asked her to do that, and it was a different but very nice gesture. For an instant, they looked at one another, unsure of how to part company. After all, they had never done this before either, and Henry found himself between her and the door she intended to exit through. Sensing the awkwardness, Henry moved out of her way and picked up Joe, who was standing at his feet. She had been awakened by their commotion and was now in the mood for a little attention of her own.