The House on Seventh Street

by Karen Vorbeck Williams

  “I hate having company when I’m ill—I just want to hibernate. Please understand.”

  He’d called that night to check on her and again the following afternoon. Winna did her best to sound under the weather. She was self-conscious about going out of the house or into the garden where he might see her. Admitting to herself that she trusted no one, she had told Seth not to come to work. After a couple of days, she concluded that she had painted herself into a corner. She called John.

  “I’m much better,” she said, “but I haven’t been honest with you.”

  Silence.

  “It’s hard to explain, but I’ve hit a wall. I’m unsure.”

  “About what?”

  “Us.”

  Silence.

  “This is hard, John. I’m terribly fond of you, but I’m not ready to accept what you are offering. I—I can’t see you anymore.”

  “This is sudden. What’s happened? I can’t believe you are dumping me again.”

  “It’s me—not you. My life—all this—has overwhelmed me. I’m sorry, but after all that has happened I hope you will understand.”

  Following John’s attempts to reason and bargain with her, she managed to say goodbye with a finality that she hoped was convincing. She put down the phone and cried. The next day she called Seth and asked if he could show up on Saturday. She needed help with the yard sale they had scheduled for the following weekend.

  ON SATURDAY MORNING, Emily arranged for a sitter to watch Isabelle and arrived at the kitchen door before Seth. The dogs barked wildly—music to Winna’s ears. Emily hugged her mother and admonished the dogs for leaping on her.

  “You should teach them better manners, Mom.”

  “I should,” she said, “but will I?”

  Emily handed her an envelope from the drugstore. “Here, I brought you a set of the pictures I took at Hanging Lake. I think I got some great shots and want a pro to have a look at them.”

  Before Winna had a chance to thank her, the dogs broke into another barking frenzy. Chloe opened the unlocked door and they greeted her with jumps, kisses, and little cries of pleasure.

  “What a welcome,” she said. “I love it. They are so cute, Winna. They really like me.”

  “They like everybody,” Emily said.

  “The muscles will be here soon.” Winna was delighted that her workforce had shown up on time. “First, we’ll look through boxes and price things. Look what I bought. We get to play store.” She held up a handful of string tags and a package of stickers. “We can start with the boxes in the front hall. There are boxes in almost every room. Once they’re priced, they’ll go out to the garage.”

  “Price everything low, right?” Emily asked.

  “Not too low,” Chloe countered.

  Luke and Leia loudly announced Seth’s arrival at the kitchen door. After greetings, Winna put everyone to work. The women bickered about prices and tagged items for sale, Seth carried old furniture from the attic and boxes into the garage where he had set up temporary shelves and tables for display. In one of the boxes, Winna found the old apple peeler and took it to her kitchen. The dogs followed. Leia had something dangling from her mouth.

  “Sit, Leia,” she commanded. Leia obeyed, offering up what looked like a rhinestone choker. “Where did you find this? Lord, help me—I hope it’s not diamonds.” Just in case, she fastened it around her neck.

  THAT NIGHT AFTER everyone had gone home, Winna looked at Emily’s pictures of Hanging Lake. She smiled at some of the more artful shots of the waterfalls. Emily had captured close-ups of dragonflies and some wonderful shots of Hugh as he struggled up the trail with Isabelle asleep in the backpack. She smiled at the memory, then looked again at all the photos including the ones she took of Emily, Hugh, and the baby at the sidewalk cafe. She hadn’t gotten the shot she wanted.

  She put the pictures away, checked the doors, and made herself a light supper. Pouring a glass of wine, she picked up her senior class yearbook, which she had finally stumbled upon that day as she was going through boxes for the yard sale. Thumbing through it, she found Maggie’s picture first. Her old friend smiled at her over a shoulder, blonde curls tumbling down her back. Winna kissed the image and filled up with tears. She wondered what Maggie’s life had been like as John’s wife. Was he good to her? Johnny Hodell looked out from the next page, dated by his crew cut. Winna knew that face lit by moonlight, the smile that summoned her into his arms, the churlish twist of his lips as he pushed her away with cruel words. Remembering who they were back then, she shuddered. A few pages back, Winna smiled at her young self, the large eyes exaggerated by her pixie haircut. Her first reaction to that fresh young face was sadness mixed with judgment against a fool. She looked again with the eyes of her heart. I needed love.

  She flipped through the rest of the yearbook looking at the faces of lower classmen, remembering few. She found Kate, as she looked then, posing without a smile under the neatly trimmed bangs of her pageboy. Near the end of the pages reserved for high school juniors, she came across the name Seth Armstrong Taylor and searched the group picture to see if she could find his face. He was there, the tallest boy in the back row, looking bored. Winna hadn’t known him then.

  The dogs began to bark and Winna went to the window. It was dark but headlights glared at the end of the driveway. Someone had pulled in. She drew away from the window and checked the lock on the kitchen door, then hurried to the unlit dining room and stood at the window. In the dark, she couldn’t identify the car. Whoever it was backed out and drove away in the opposite direction. The driver was simply turning the car around; Winna let out a long sigh of relief.

  PEOPLE FROM ALL over town came to look at the venerable old house, the garden, and the Grumman family’s castoffs. Winna had planned to hold the sale on both Saturday and Sunday, but so little remained by late Saturday afternoon that she decided she would take the rest to the Salvation Army. Emily, Chloe, Todd, Hugh, and Seth helped—the women with sales and the men with loading large pieces of furniture into shoppers’ cars and trucks. While they waited for customers, the guys watched baseball on the TV they had set up in the garage. Winna served sandwiches and cookies to her helpers and kept the lemonade flowing for both workers and shoppers. After lunch, the men broke out the beer.

  During breaks between customers, Chloe, Winna, and Emily sat on the verandah.

  “What did you think of my pictures, Mom?” Emily said with a proud smile.

  “They were great—let me get them. I’ll show you my favorites.” Winna disappeared into the house and reappeared with the envelope in her hand.

  “Pass them down to me,” Chloe urged.

  Prints in hand, Winna went through her daughter’s images, giving praise and some light critique. “You have talent. Would you like to come with me on my next photo shoot? I could even teach you the darkroom.”

  “Look who’s here,” Chloe said, pointing toward the driveway.

  John Hodell’s Mercedes convertible, top down, pulled up the drive and parked. Aware of their breakup, Emily nudged her mother’s side with her elbow. Winna put the pictures down.

  “Why is he parking there?” Emily said.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe he feels entitled.”

  He got out of his car and looked around, as if he were looking for someone, then turned and moved toward the tables loaded with merchandise spread out in the sun. Winna decided it would be civilized to greet him. She walked across the verandah and down the front steps.

  “Hello, John,” she said, approaching a table full of old games. “Are you looking for anything special?”

  He smiled. “I’m looking for you,” he said. “I miss you, Winna.”

  “Now is not the best time to talk,” she said, glancing down at her bare feet, surprised to see she had walked off and left her sandals behind.

  “When is the best time?” He looked hurt.

  “Good question. Maybe we could have lunch sometime,” she said, backing awa
y, disappointed with herself. Why had she opened that door?

  “If that’s what you want.” He glanced toward the garage and saw Hugh, Todd, and Seth, then frowned at Winna before he headed off to join them. Looking back over his shoulder, he called, “You’ll hear from me.”

  To Winna, it sounded like a threat.

  41

  AFTER SOME RESEARCH on the original colors of the walls, Winna ordered paint and hired a man to help Seth with the work. With so many large rooms to paint, Seth estimated they would be at it for at least a month.

  Winna was glad her bedroom was finished. She could go there, close the door, open the windows, and not smell paint. Using her memories and the book on garden design Seth had loaned her, she set up a table in her room and began to work on plans for the rose garden. She hoped to start planting by mid-September. Her sister had promised to help her with the selection of roses and perennials.

  Chloe was the real gardener in the family, but she had called that morning to say she couldn’t come. Todd was away in Denver and a leak had flooded her kitchen. She had to be home when the plumber came. Winna would have to wait for her help.

  She walked past the hall table on her way to find Seth and saw the stack of pictures Emily had taken, her favorite one of the waterfall on top. She looked at it again and picked up the phone to call Emily.

  “Honey, can you bring the negatives of your pictures? I’ve got the darkroom up and running and want to print a couple of these shots for you—I love the one of Hugh with the baby on his back and that one of the waterfall—both would look great enlarged and framed.”

  Emily sounded delighted and said she would bring them by tomorrow on her way to drop off her column at the newspaper.

  Winna found Seth in the front hall on a tall ladder. “Chloe can’t come by and help me with garden plans today. Can you stay for dinner tonight? I’m going to proceed on my own and should have something to show you.”

  “Sorry, I’m dining with the mayor.”

  Winna laughed. “Look. I’m sorry—I make too many demands on your time,” she said. “You have a right to say that you just want to go home and watch TV tonight.”

  “I don’t want to go home and watch TV. I’d rather spend my Saturday night having a burger and looking at garden plans with you.”

  “I can do better than a burger.”

  OVER STEAKS, BAKED potatoes, salad, and beers in the kitchen, Winna remembered that she had found Seth’s picture in the 1956 Tiger. She retrieved the yearbook from the counter. “I found you in here—have a look,” she said, handing him the book.

  With the enthusiasm of a kid on his way to the principal’s office, Seth took the book and began to thumb through.

  “Let me help you find it,” she said, impatiently turning to the marked page. “There you are—with all the rest of the T’s.”

  “I look like a hick,” he said. “I’m glad those days are over. I hated school.”

  “Why?”

  He leaned back in his chair and rolled his eyes. “I was smarter than my teachers. At least that’s what I thought.” He paused and put down his knife and fork. “Look, Winna, there’s something I’d like to tell you, but I’m wondering whether or not I should.”

  “I can keep a secret.”

  “No, it’s not a secret. It’s just that I haven’t leveled with you—we haven’t really talked.” He looked troubled. “Hell, I might as well tell you—I was a very good friend of your dad’s. The last five years of his life, I spent a lot of time with him.”

  Winna was astonished. “Really? Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

  “I figured I had,” he said, looking a bit sheepish. “We spoke at the funeral and I mentioned it then. Maybe it didn’t register.”

  She tried to remember. “I wasn’t myself that day. I don’t remember.”

  “When you never brought it up again, I figured you didn’t like the idea, or something.” He shook his head. “You probably don’t know it, but you Grummans have the rep around this town for being upper crust—not quite approachable by the common man.”

  “You’re kidding me,” she said, punching his arm. “I love the idea of you and Daddy being friends. How did you know him?”

  “He hired me to do some work around here. I’d be outside clipping the hedge or weeding and he’d come out and follow me around wanting to talk. I figured he was lonely.” He smiled fondly at the memory. “I got a kick out of him and his old jokes. As the years passed, I came to like him way better than I liked my own dad. We’d watch sports on TV and go to college games together. Now and then, we’d go fishing. Sometimes he’d get groceries and I’d cook for him. He had me wash and polish his old car every week. I was really sad when he disappeared and volunteered to look for him. No one knew where to begin. They started looking around town, then in the foothills to the Book Cliffs, finally moving on to Pinyon Mesa. I went searching with them every day for as long as they searched and when they gave up, I went searching alone.”

  “I neglected him terribly,” Winna said, ashamed that a perfect stranger—to her at least—had taken on her responsibility. “I appreciate you doing what I should have done. I’ll tell you all about it someday.”

  “I missed him so much that sometimes I’d come over here and work in the garden or just sit on the back porch. I mowed the lawn now and then and even edged the rose beds one day. I love the idea of that garden.”

  “I wondered who had been working in the rose garden,” she said, remembering the day she first arrived.

  “I knew he had daughters and I asked him about you girls, but he made excuses for why he didn’t see you. He said he hadn’t been a good father. He seemed sad about that.”

  Seth’s words came like an apology from the grave and she burst into tears. She did not feel comfortable sobbing in front of Seth. The urge to run and hide propelled her to her feet.

  Seth grabbed her hand. “It’s okay, Winna. You can cry,” he said, standing, pulling her into his arms.

  Winna gave in to an embrace that felt like that of a friend or brother. When they parted, she held on just long enough to place a kiss on the back of his hand.

  “You don’t know what this means,” she said, stopping to take hold of her trembling voice. “Please tell me about him. Can you believe—I didn’t know him?”

  As Seth told his stories, Winna felt her weight lighten. Her questions for Seth and his answers went on for hours. They forgot the garden plan, broke out the tequila and some limes. As the tequila disappeared, their exchange became a wake, a goodbye party with laughter and tears. Henry Grumman finally had a son.

  At last, Seth was able to talk with someone about his grief.

  And, at last, Winna felt hers.

  Seth was too drunk to drive home. Winna led him to bed in Edwin’s room upstairs. She went to her room feeling almost giddy with joy. By three, she was asleep.

  The next morning was a Sunday, the painter’s day off. The dogs insisted on being let out at about ten, but as soon as they had done their business, Winna went back to sleep.

  The smell of bacon frying woke her. She put on her robe and went down to the kitchen. Seth was making breakfast, sipping coffee from a large mug. Winna poured herself a cup.

  “Good morning,” she yawned.

  “It’s just after noon and breakfast is almost ready.”

  “We had a party last night,” she said, doctoring her coffee with cream and sugar.

  “We sure enough did.”

  Winna suddenly remembered. “Say, I saw you the other morning at the little Catholic church on the other side of the park. Do you go to church?”

  “Pretty often. I wasn’t good at school, but I’m good at church.”

  “Me too.” Winna remembered something else she had forgotten to ask. “Have the police gotten in touch with you?”

  “Yes,” he said, turning to look over his shoulder. “Long time ago. I think they’ve gotten in touch with everyone you know, Winna.”

 
“They made me give them the names of everyone I’m in contact with. Did you get a grilling?”

  “I wouldn’t call it that. They got my fingerprints. The cops asked questions. I told them I’d been arrested for drunk driving about fifteen years ago.”

  “I’m sorry, Seth,” she said. “I hope it wasn’t too awful.”

  “No, they were doing their job. They also had me show them where I had thrown out what was left of the broken stair rail. They took all that.”

  “I’ve heard back about that. According to Lieutenant Dougherty, the stairs and the stair rail had been tampered with. The police have decided that my fall was not an accident.”

  “When did you hear that?” Seth asked, looking concerned.

  “On Friday, I think. The police believe someone wants me dead. So far he has tried twice, maybe three times.”

  Seth had no time to respond. Someone was at the door. Winna and the barking dogs went to answer.

  Emily walked into the kitchen, out of breath, with an envelope in her hand. She looked at her mother in her robe and Seth standing at the stove with a spatula in hand.

  “Holy shit!” she said, looking dizzy.

  “Emily, it’s not what it looks like. Seth and I were—”

  “You’re both adults,” she said, looking like she wanted to run. “I’ve got the negatives you wanted—”

  “Sit down a minute and I’ll explain—it’s a wonderful story.”

  42

  WHILE ENLARGING SEVERAL pictures for Emily to frame, Winna found the negatives to the shots she had taken at the sidewalk café in Glenwood Springs. Looking closely, she hoped to find one that she could put in a little frame she’d rescued from the attic. She had loved the light and the way her daughter and son-in-law were grouped with the baby. There were several and, in some, the background really interfered with the shot—a large black truck parked across the street showed up in almost every one.

  Damning the presence of the truck, she realized that she had seen that truck before—or one like it. She looked again, and among the pedestrians on the street, she saw a tall man coming out of a store. He wore a cowboy hat and what looked like a buckskin coat. She decided to enlarge the image. The man, who looked a lot like Todd, was looking toward the truck and, in another shot, was headed toward it. Winna enlarged the image again, enough to see that the man had just left ABC Pawn Brokers and Jewelers.