Dandelion Summer

by Mary Ellen Bramwell

  Delia’s voice brought Madelyn’s focus back to the task at hand. “So, what did he show your husband?”

  “I have no idea. George never told me. I didn’t ask, but the more I think about it, he didn’t actually give me the chance. He kept bringing different things up in conversation until I forgot to ask. I’m pretty sure he didn’t want to talk about it.” The memories started to shine in her eyes, and she turned away for a moment but reached over to pat Madelyn’s leg again.

  “That night was supposed to be a celebration, you know,” she said when she’d collected herself. “William came over to invite George for drinks, like I told you before. William was in a great mood. For what it’s worth, I think he said something like, ‘Everything’s getting worked out.’ ” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but that’s all I know. I wish it were more, but I’ve gone memory shopping in this old head of mine, and those are the only packages I’ve been able to purchase.”

  “But then what were they arguing about outside the bar?” Madelyn said without thinking.

  “That’s the thing. They never argued. I was at the trial too. The witnesses both said William and George were arguing, but they couldn’t say about what. I can’t imagine what it could have been. I guess drunk men do things we may never understand.” She hadn’t meant the comment to hurt, but it did all the same. “I’m sorry. I …,” she quickly added.

  “No, it’s okay,” Madelyn said, “the truth isn’t always pretty.”

  Mrs. Holliwell nodded. “I hope you find more answers. We could all use them. I only wish I could help you more.”

  “It’s enough,” Madelyn said. “It will be enough.” She wasn’t sure it actually was, but it was clearly all Mrs. Holliwell had to offer. She just didn’t know where they were going to find the rest.

  On the drive back home, Madelyn said, “If they were such good buddies going drinking, I’m with Mrs. Holliwell, what were they arguing about? And for that matter, why did my grandpa have a knife?”

  “Good question,” Zane said.

  Wednesday

  There had been no new plan formulated after their visit to Mrs. Holliwell. Instead, they parted with even more questions than before, any kind of answers being elusive.

  Just as Madelyn was clearing her breakfast dishes the next day, the phone rang. It was Zane. Madelyn extended the long phone cord into the living room, away from the kitchen windows, and out of earshot of her family relaxing on the back porch.

  “What should we do now?” Madelyn said.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I know this may not sound right, but after talking to Mrs. Holliwell, I feel like we’re getting closer,” Madelyn said.

  “Closer to the truth? I don’t know. All it seems like to me is we’re collecting more questions. Do you think your grandpa would tell us what he showed George Holliwell?”

  “I doubt it. George didn’t even tell his wife. He was keeping the secret safe, for sure. That’s not something my grandpa’s going to talk about easily.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “I mean, it might be possible. But I’m going to have to tell my mom what I know first. After that maybe we can –” Madelyn stopped abruptly. She’d heard the back door open and close. “Hey, I’ve got to go. Someone’s coming. I want to keep this a secret until I figure out the right way to bring it up.”

  “All right. I’ll talk to you later.”

  What Madelyn didn’t know was that someone was listening in on her side of the conversation.

  . . .

  Madelyn ran into her mom in the kitchen as she was hanging up the phone. “Hey, Madelyn, Dory is busy today. How about I help you with some dandelions.”

  “Thanks, Mom. That would be great. I’ve sort of been neglecting them.”

  “Well, we’ve been a little preoccupied,” Mom said with a smile, “thanks to you.”

  The comment made Madelyn worry Mom was onto her and her detective work, but then she realized Mom was just giving her credit for the reading efforts. “No problem,” she replied.

  They were soon outside, both of them pretending they could actually get rid of the remaining dandelions in the lawn by working as hard as they could on them. Madelyn didn’t know if their efforts were valiant or futile.

  Mom was a real trooper through it all, but she got tired out in the sun, even after only an hour. Stopping for a breather, she wiped the sweat off her brow, leaving a large smudge of dirt behind. “You know, Madelyn, I think I’d like to tell your dad about my reading.”

  “Really? Now? I thought you were going to wait for him to come home. It’s not that far away.”

  “I know, but after all this time, I think he’d like to know. And to be honest, I’m tired of hiding things from people. I’m not sure I’m ready to tell the whole world that I’ve been illiterate most of my life, but I like the idea of telling people when it’s appropriate. It feels like I’m taking back my life—I’m the one in control now.”

  Madelyn found it slightly ironic that Mom was still hiding everything about Grandpa from her, but she also understood it was done out of kindness, in an effort to spare her. “I like that, Mom. Then tell him.”

  “I will.” Then satisfied that her break should be over, Mom returned to the task at hand, digging up another dandelion. They were too hot to talk much after that.

  Madelyn did notice one thing about their conversation, however. Even though Mom wanted to come clean with Dad, she didn’t mention telling him about their dandelion crusade. It took the rest of their time outside for her to figure out why. Reading was important. Mom was doing something Dad had hoped she would do for longer than they’d been married. Finally tackling that would be a sign to him that she could do it, she could succeed.

  But the dandelions were something he didn’t expect. They were a project Mom chose, a symbol, to him and to her, that she could not only succeed, but she could choose on her own how to define that success. She would always need him, just as he needed her, but he didn’t have to carry all the weight. She could be an equal partner.

  “I’m proud of you, Mom,” Madelyn said as they were putting away their weeding supplies.

  The words took her by surprise. “Well, thanks, Madelyn. Because of the reading?”

  “Well, that, and just everything.” Mom was smiling, but her head was cocked to the side, clearly not understanding the sudden adoration. Madelyn motioned to the yard. “Trying to be Dad and Mom, showing Dad what you can do.”

  Mom blushed and glanced down at her feet. “I made some goals at the beginning of the summer, and I have to admit most of those have flown the coop by now. But I can’t seem to let go of this one. Dandelions have become my nemesis. I figure if I can conquer them, then I can conquer anything.”

  She was standing tall and strong, almost regal, except for one thing. “You’re probably right, Mom, but you might want to wash your forehead first.” Mom reached up to wipe her forehead but only succeeded in smearing the dirt that was there even more.

  Madelyn couldn’t help herself and burst out laughing. Mom bent over next to the car to look at herself in the side mirror. All she could do was join in.

  . . .

  Madelyn had been trying to find a good time all day to call Zane. She was hoping he had some new ideas because she was fresh out. Finally, as evening fell, she made her way to Dad’s study. The others were reading in the living room, and with the study door closed, Madelyn thought she would have the privacy she needed.

  “Stewart’s,” Zane answered, his voice bringing an involuntary twinkle to her eyes.

  “Hi, Zane. It’s Madelyn. I finally got a chance to call you back.” She was met w
ith silence. “Is there something wrong?” Again, nothing—no response, but also no noise of any kind, no background sounds. “Hello? Hello?” She clicked down the receiver. When she let up, she should have heard a dial tone, but there was nothing.

  “Mom,” Madelyn called as she walked down the hall to the living room, “what’s up with the phone? I was making a call, and it just went dead. There’s no dial tone or anything.”

  Mom looked up from her book. “That’s odd.”

  “Shh. What’s that?” Daniel whispered. Footsteps could be heard coming up the front steps.

  An unseen gathering storm was closing in upon them. Madelyn watched as if in slow motion as Mom swiftly rose from the couch scooping up Jillian and Daniel as she did so, one in each arm, alarm spreading across her face.

  Quick as a mother hen, Mom herded them all to the back door off the kitchen. They were stumbling over each other when Jillian abruptly stopped in front of them. She was holding out her finger, pointing at the back door. The handle was slowly turning.

  In a split second, like a wave changing direction, Mom hustled everyone into Dad’s study, shutting the door behind them just as they heard an outside door creak open.

  “Hurry, hurry, out the window,” she whispered.

  Daniel had the window open and lifted the screen out in no time. He helped Jillian out then quickly followed. “Run to Aunt Dory’s house,” Mom ordered.

  As Madelyn was about to step out, two voices came clearly from the hall. “You really screwed up the first time, you know. They weren’t home. You could have ransacked the place like I did the old man’s. Then we wouldn’t have had to come back.”

  “Yeah, but that might have tipped them off. They don’t actually know anything yet.”

  “Not yet. But you heard them, they’re getting closer. They’re suspicious. It’s only a matter of time.”

  “Well, see, me coming back to plant that bug was a good thing, after all. That’s better than having trashed the joint. It gave us information.”

  There was a sound of disgust. “Information? Our boss isn’t paying us for information. We have to find it before they figure anything out. So, start looking.”

  Madelyn and her mom didn’t need any further encouragement to hustle out the window. They hit the ground outside one right after the other. A small sound drew their attention to the dark yard in front of them. They could just make out the figure of Jillian sprawled on the ground where she must have tripped. But a moment later, they saw what must have been Daniel picking her up and running next door.

  Just as they were about to flee, through the window came the sound of a door opening, startling them. “You’re right, they were here. See, they took the screen off and climbed out the window.” Whoever it was, was right on their heels. Mom grabbed Madelyn’s hand and they ran and dove behind a bush at the edge of their yard, afraid to cover the open ground to Aunt Dory’s house.

  They lay still and breathless, watching as the men climbed out the same window. Portions of words reached them on the night breeze. “… go after them … the boss … force him to talk … look around.” All other words were lost to them. Thankfully, the men shifted directions, moving back toward the house.

  “Do you think they know where we are?” Madelyn whispered. Mom didn’t answer, but it didn’t matter. Neither of them could take their eyes off the flashlight beams, still so close they could almost feel their heat, bouncing up and down with the men’s steps and swinging from side to side, searching, searching for something—only they had no idea what.

  “What was that all about?” Mom said.

  Madelyn didn’t respond, but she was beginning to know exactly who it was about, even if she didn’t what yet.

  . . .

  When Mom and Madelyn finally made it safely to Aunt Dory’s, they discovered she’d already called the police. However, by the time the police arrived, even with lights and sirens, the invaders were long gone.

  Madelyn and Mom only entered their house, what no longer felt like a home, with the officers who responded. Things were in disarray, but less so than at Grandpa’s. It was clear they knew time was limited. As near as Madelyn could tell, nothing had been taken, even though much had been disturbed.

  “Do you know what they might have been looking for, Ma’am?”

  “No. That’s the problem. We have no idea. Although, we’re pretty certain now that at least one of them has been here before.”

  “Oh, and when was that?”

  “Last month. We dismissed it at the time, but I guess we shouldn’t have. It was late at night, and my daughter and I were still up. We heard the front door open, and I’m fairly certain we heard a man clear his throat.” The police officer raised his eyebrows, but it wasn’t clear if it was because he found the information interesting or didn’t believe it. Madelyn nodded her head in agreement with Mom’s words.

  “And then what happened?”

  “We think he ran out, but if what we heard him say last night was true, he was just here to plant a bug.”

  “He planted a listening device in your house?” He was clearly incredulous.

  “Well, yes, officer. That’s what we overheard them talking about. In fact, they also mentioned that he’d been here before then too.”

  With realization dawning, Madelyn said, “It must have been the day we came back from the store, and the front door was unlocked. Remember that, Mom? I’d forgotten about it, but it makes sense now. The house was kind of messy too, but I just figured it was us, you know.” She shrugged her shoulders.

  The officer’s partner came up behind him, having overheard the conversation. It was two on two—two disbelieving officers and two who knew they sounded crazy but weren’t. “Why don’t we look around to see if there is a bug? It would have to be here in the living room because he didn’t go anywhere else in the house that night,” Mom said.

  “Plus, the men talked about overhearing us. It had to have been things we said sometime before they showed up, things we said in this very room,” Madelyn added, realizing at that moment that her short conversation with Zane that morning must have been the trigger. Then she had another thought. Whispering, she said, “If the bug’s still here, won’t they be hearing everything we’re saying right now? Will that make things worse?” The officers ignored her comment, but Mom shrugged her shoulders then put an arm around Madelyn.

  Begrudgingly, the officers helped search. On the bottom of an end table, they didn’t find a bug, but they did find a dangling piece of tape. Mom and Madelyn felt vindicated, even if the officers weren’t entirely convinced. They did soften a little, apparently at least entertaining the possibility of a bug. “Do you have somewhere else to stay until this blows over?”

  “Yes, they do.” It was Aunt Dory, watching from the doorway. “I just came over to suggest you gather what you might need for the four of you. I’ve already set up beds and Jillian and Daniel are playing checkers and eating ice cream. I want to get right back to them, unless you need help carrying anything.”

  Mom went to her and gave her a hug. “You’re an angel. We’ll be over soon. And I’m sure we can manage.”

  There wasn’t much more the police could do that night. Before they left, one of the officers showed them where the phone line had been cut—right outside the back door. Chills went through Madelyn as she thought of how close the two men had been and how fortunate they were not to have come face to face with them.

  “Thanks for everything, Officer,” Mom said.

  “No problem, Ma’am. Put a call into the phone company first thing in the morning. I don’t know how long it will take, but they can repair the damage. If they have any questions, they can contact us. We’ll assure
them this was not your fault.”

  Madelyn bristled, wondering how it could possibly have been their fault, but Mom caught her eye and smiled. She was right. The officer was just trying to help. It wasn’t meant as an insult.

  When the police finally pulled away, Madelyn helped Mom gather the things they might need. “How come you’re so calm?” Madelyn said.

  “Calm?” Mom let out a short laugh. “My insides are jelly. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

  “Really? That makes me feel better. I can’t seem to stop shaking.”

  Mom grabbed Madelyn’s hands in her own. “If those two had done anything to one of my children … well, they would just wish they were dead by the time I got through with them.”

  “Wow. Thanks, Mom.” They embraced, holding each other for a long time, long enough for the shaking to subside.

  They worked silently after that—rounding up clothes and toothbrushes, carrying them next door, climbing into the sofa bed Aunt Dory had fixed up, and all without even so much as a glance at the clock. Exhaustion overcame the last bits of residual agitation from the evening, and they slept. But not before they spoke the final words of the day.

  “I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you, Madelyn.”

  They were just a few simple words, but they followed an evening that was anything but simple. And that evening had come on the heels of a complicated summer. It was a turning point, a beginning. The feeling of it was palpable and beyond explanation. It was the moment when Madelyn’s story and Mom’s became one.