All Roads Lead Home (Bellingwood)

by Diane Greenwood Muir

  Polly pulled the overflowing basket and stuffed pillow case out of the room. She went back in, picked up the little basket from last night’s supper, stuffed her phone in her jeans and headed for the stairs.

  She'd always done things in one trip and knew she could do this too. Polly tucked the laundry basket under her left arm and with Lydia’s basket in her right hand; grabbed the pillow case and began bouncing it down the steps behind her. When she got halfway down the steps, she heard a noise and dropped everything in fright as a head popped around the corner of the stairs.

  "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" It was one of Jerry Allen's young apprentice electricians.

  "What are you doing here? I didn't know anyone was working today!" Polly's voice was a little stricken.

  He started to walk up the steps to help her with the laundry, when both of them realized her underwear and bras had been strewn all over the steps. He hesitated, looking at her with panic in his eyes.

  "I'm so sorry!” he exclaimed. “Billy left the power stapler here yesterday and we need it for a job out on Bob Miller's farm.” The young man began backing away from the stairway and Polly's obvious discomfort. She walked down the steps with the bag of towels and set them beside the door, then grabbed the basket, which was upside down on the floor.

  He went on, "I knocked on the door and no one answered. I thought I’d come in and grab it and it wouldn't be a big deal."

  "It's alright," Polly said. "I now have a weakened heart, a red face from dirty laundry and a notion that the next best item to install will be a doorbell. Do you want to tell Jerry it needs to happen Monday rather than later?

  "What is your name, by the way?" she asked.

  "It's Doug, Doug Randall. I'm so sorry!" He kept backing toward the door and when he could, he opened it and stepped out. Then, he poked his head back in. "I’m sorry," then a sneaky little grin lit up his face, "but I've never seen anything like those purple things!" He ducked out quickly and pulled the door shut behind him.

  Polly looked up at the steps. Her eyes lit on the purple underwear with hot pink bows. She didn't think they were anything special, but decided if they gave a young man something to think about, she'd try not to be embarrassed every time he looked at her. Then it hit her - great, he was going to wonder every day if she was wearing them.

  She gathered up the laundry, tossing it into the basket, then pulled a towel out from the bag and tucked it in around the top.

  "What a way to start a day," she laughed as she walked into the kitchen with the little blue basket of goodies in her hand.

  While her bread was toasting, she dumped coffee grounds out of the pot and put it into the deep sink, filling it with water. She put a dab of soap in and let the water run until it was filled. The toaster popped up and she turned off the water. It could soak for a few minutes while she ate. Saturday morning was a good day for a soda. Diet Mountain Dew could always be found in the bottom of her refrigerator and rather than wait for coffee to be made, she grabbed a can and her toast and settled in at the table.

  Looking out again at the broken up playground, she began to dream of possibilities for that space. Weeds had broken through the cracks in the blacktop and the pieces of playground equipment still there were rusted and broken down. The teeter-totter only had one hinge left and the merry go round was rusted and tilting to one side. Those needed to be dealt with before winter came so next spring she could look out on grass rather than this mess.

  She opened her soda and took a bite of toast. Then, she pulled everything out of the basket. She was going to try to return the basket, napkins and cutting board to Lydia, but figured it would be a losing battle. She'd try anyway.

  Her phone rang, "Polly? This is Jerry Allen. Doug told me what happened at your house and I have to apologize. If I'd known he was going to be there, I'd have called you first. I'm sorry!"

  She laughed out loud. "I'll bet he was as startled as I was. It's no big deal. I'm fine. He was probably more embarrassed than me. Don’t worry about it."

  "My wife is going to be in Des Moines this morning and will pick up the door chime we had discussed. Yes, we'll install it on Monday and try to avoid any more surprises,” he said, then went on. "Oh, you might be meeting her this evening."

  "I will?" Polly asked.

  "Oh. Uh oh. I didn't say anything. Good-bye! I'll see you Monday and I'm sorry about Doug!"

  Jerry hung up abruptly and Polly wondered what in the world he was talking about.

  Chapter Four

  “I’m here, Come in!” Polly called out when she heard a knock at her door that afternoon. She’d slung her overnight bag over her shoulder, grabbed up the bag of laundry in the hand holding her clutch and balanced the basket on her left hip. There was no way she could open the front door. This might have been carrying self-reliance a bit too far.

  The door pushed open and all three ladies were standing there. Andy took the basket from her, Beryl reached for the pillowcase and Lydia asked, "Is that all you have? You must have tiny, tiny laundry."

  Then, she took the overnight bag off Polly's shoulder and headed out the door.

  "Wait! I could have carried my stuff out."

  "Why yes you could," said Beryl, "but then you wouldn't be able to shut and lock your door, would you! Now, let's go!"

  They dropped her things in the back of the Jeep and Andy and Beryl both hopped into the back seat while Polly stood there feeling a little discombobulated. All she could think was, "What happened here?"

  "Let's go!" said Beryl from inside the vehicle.

  Polly pulled the door shut, checked her purse to make sure the keys were there and trotted to the Jeep.

  "Can't even give a girl a moment to get her wits about her, can you?" she said to the back seat as she jumped in and pulled her seatbelt across her shoulder.

  She turned around, "You know, I'm younger than any of you, I could have sat back there."

  "Don't even start with us. Just sit there and enjoy the ride." That came from Beryl.

  "So, Lydia told me you weren’t driving tonight, Beryl,” Polly said.

  "Lydia is such a downer. She knows I get lost wherever I go," Beryl started and then Andy interrupted.

  "And when you get lost, you drive faster, thinking that will get us unlost. You aren't safe."

  Polly craned her neck to the back seat. "But I thought we were going to Ames. How hard is that?" she asked.

  "Oh trust us, Beryl gets lost in Bellingwood. Ames is nearly impossible for her and Des Moines? Nobody lets her drive down there." Lydia chuckled as she backed out of the lot.

  "I guess I didn't even ask," Polly said, "What play are we seeing tonight?

  Lydia was the one to respond, "The tickets are in my purse. I'm not sure what it is. But, whatever, it will be terrific and we'll have fun."

  "I hear you have purple undies," said Beryl quietly from the back seat.

  Polly didn't even bother to look up. She shook her head and started laughing.

  "Nothing gets by you guys, does it?" she said.

  "Not if we can help it," Andy replied. "You know, when you get to be an old lady, you have to have something going on all the time!"

  "Okay, whatever," said Polly. "You do give a new definition to the phrase little old lady, I guess."

  The four women chattered all the way to Ames. When it came time to pay for the meal, the receipt arrived at the table with the word "Paid" on it, handwritten by the waitress.

  "What is this?" asked Lydia. "Who did this?"

  The waitress said nothing as she gathered up the plates.

  "Really. Who did this?" Lydia asked again.

  Beryl and Andy both had shock on their faces and they all looked at Polly.

  "Uh huh. So, that's how it is," said Beryl.

  "Just so you know, you ladies are old and out of touch. I took care of it when I went to the bathroom. Did you really think I needed to do that? I'm still young enough to sleep all the way through the night without a bathroom pit stop."
Polly laughed, then said, “Gotcha.”

  They were all laughing as they returned to the Jeep and headed to the Iowa State Campus. Polly looked at it a little wistfully. She had considered coming to school here, it would have been close to her family. She and her dad had come down for a campus tour, twice, because he wanted to make sure she liked it. When the scholarship arrived from Boston University, all their plans changed and she had never looked back. Everything had seemed so perfect and the opportunity to live on the east coast was something Polly hadn’t wanted to pass up.

  Her mother had grown up in one of Boston's suburbs and Polly had been out there a few times as a young child. Her application to Boston University was sent in as a lark. The acceptance and subsequent scholarship made everything real.

  Lydia parked the Jeep at Fisher Theater and everyone was still giggling back and forth as they found their way to their seats. The play wasn't familiar to Polly, but she enjoyed the production. As they left, Beryl and Andy were commenting on the scenery and costumes. It seemed both found something to enjoy and couldn't stop talking about it.

  "It's not like we don't get out," Beryl laughed. "You'd think we had never seen a play before!"

  "Do you remember when Rent came to Des Moines?" Andy asked, "That was amazing! There is nothing like watching professionals do their thing, is there! Such a smooth presentation. I still cry every time."

  Polly didn't say anything. She'd taken plenty of opportunities to see live theater in Boston and on several occasions had even gone down to New York to see shows on Broadway. Andy was right. When professionals did a great job on stage, everyone in the audience became engaged in the story. There was nothing like it.

  "Maybe we'll take a road trip to Chicago one of these days." Lydia announced, "How about it, ladies?"

  They got in the Jeep and headed home. The stars were bright and the sky was clear as they drove across Highway 30. Lydia ducked up an access road to pick up Highway 17 and go north. The four women talked about the play and dinner until they arrived in front of a deceptively large home in Bellingwood. From the front, it looked like a normal split level home, but the lights filling the yard showed it to be a much larger home than could be seen from the road. The garage was on the lower level behind the house and as they drove down the hill, Polly saw several cars parked.

  "Are all of these cars yours?" she asked Lydia.

  "Oh, no. Beryl and Andy both drove over." Lydia said rather smugly.

  "But, that's still a lot of vehicles."

  "We have a couple of extra cars around, I guess."

  It didn't seem as if Lydia planned to share anything else, so Polly followed her to the back of the Jeep and grabbed her overnight bag and the laundry basket. Beryl promptly picked up the pillow case as Andy tried to wrestle the basket out of Polly’s arms.

  Lydia unlocked a side door to the house and they entered through the laundry room. Beryl dropped the case and Andy placed the basket on top of the dryer. “Leave your laundry here and we'll let you come back to start it after we all get settled in. I think I heard something about chocolate martinis!”

  Polly let them walk her through the hallway which opened into a darkened room. As Lydia flipped on the light, Polly's eyes tried to take in a room filled with women of nearly every age.

  It was ten o'clock on a Saturday night and there had to be fifteen women in chairs and couches, at tables and behind the bar in the room.

  "Hello?" she said. She didn't recognize anyone.

  Lydia held up a hand and the room went quiet. "Alright, ladies. This is Polly. You all know she owns the old school house and is renovating it. But, she doesn't know any of you."

  She turned to Polly and said, "Gotcha." Then, she smiled and walked away. Polly turned to Beryl and Andy for some support and they shrugged. Beryl lifted the overnight bag from Polly's shoulder and followed Andy further into the room. "You'll never get to one-up that one, girlie. Don't even try!"

  Polly stood in the doorway and while her head told her to turn and run, it also told her she had nowhere to run to. She smiled at the ladies, who didn't seem to be making a mad rush at her. In a moment, though, one of the younger women came up to introduce herself.

  "Hi, I'm Marian Allen. My husband, Jerry is doing your electricity," said the rather plain looking, but confident woman.

  "OH! Did he tell you he nearly blew the whistle on this?" Polly asked.

  Marian coughed. "No. He didn't. What did he do?"

  "Oh, it was no big deal. He said you were going to be in Des Moines and would pick up the door chime so he could install it on Monday,"

  Marian interrupted. "Oh, that's right! Because poor Dougie saw your underwear! That boy's mama is at the table in the purple shirt." Marian snorted. Then Polly realized everyone in the room had something purple on with hot pink accents.

  Her face flushed and she started laughing. "You're all in purple!" She looked at her three new friends. They'd changed into purple shirts and each had a hot pink bow clipped in their hair.

  "This is never going to go away, is it!" she laughed. "How did you do it on such short notice?"

  "Oh, a few phone calls here, a few texts there and everyone was on board," said Beryl.

  A very short woman with a pink scarf around her neck, stood up. "I'm Dougie's mom, Helen. He was absolutely mortified he'd freaked you out and saw your dainties." she said. "It does make a mama's heart feel better, though, that he's never seen anything like it before. Whew!" She laughed and sat back down.

  For the next hour, Polly moved from person to person, meeting women and spending a few moments making connections. Wives and mothers of people who were working on her school house; women who worked in shops around town or lived on farms not far from her home; others who worked in Ames or Boone, a couple in Webster City; everyone wanted to be sure she would recognize them the next time they met.

  Polly knew she wouldn't remember all of their names, but that soon became a non-issue.

  Lydia stood up. "Alright everyone, it's time to begin the game," she said.

  "While you're here and awake, you all have to try to find something interesting out about Polly. When you do, write it down on the piece of paper with your name on it and then we'll take a picture of you with your sign and Polly. The most interesting and unique story about Polly will win the prize."

  "What's the prize?" came from a few of the women around the room.

  "You're going to have to wait and see. We'll announce it when everyone has had their picture taken." Lydia responded.

  As the women went to the table and began shuffling through the pile of papers there, Polly turned to Lydia. "Do you do this for everyone who moves in?"

  "Well, maybe or maybe not. Though there have been some who don't get into the spirit of things." She patted Polly's arm. "You've been a good sport about everything. Now get yourself a chocolate martini from the bar and settle in. People are going to start asking you questions!"

  "Wait," Polly said, "Is this going to go on all night? Are all of these ladies spending the night here?"

  "Well, a couple of them might have to leave so they can get some sleep before church tomorrow, but they have Sunday School classes to teach. Did you meet Angela Boehm? She's the Methodist pastor's wife and she's staying all night. She told him she might make it to the 10:30 service or she might not. He chose to be fine with it." Lydia laughed as she gave Polly a nudge toward the bar.

  "Coming right up!" said Andy, as she swirled some chocolate sauce in the glass and poured a martini from a shaker. A squirt of whipped cream, and a little more chocolate sauce topped it off before she handed it to Polly.

  Polly took a sip, "Whoa! What's in here?" she asked.

  "Oh, vodka and chocolate liqueur," Andy replied. "Enjoy! And come back for another when you're done."

  Polly found herself pulled to the couch and women began asking questions about her family, her school, her last job and anything else they could come up with.

  She did her best to ancho
r names with people. Two women sat down beside her. They'd already introduced themselves once, but she looked at them quite pitifully and the older woman laughed. "You don't remember any of our names, do you?" she said.

  Polly looked down at the sheet of paper in the woman’s lap. "Oh, sure I do. You're, ummm ..." she glanced down again.

  The woman laughed and said, "Oh, now you're cheating! Yes, I'm Linda Morse and this is my sister, Sarah Conyers. We're both so glad you've bought the old school. It will be wonderful to have that old place renovated. It's been such a depressing sight out there all by itself with boarded up windows. The city only got around to mowing the yard when it was shaggy, so you never knew if it was going to look nice or not."

  "You two are sisters?" Polly asked, ready to let anyone talk if it meant she didn't have to for a while.

  "We sure are," said the younger one, Sarah. "We've lived here forever, raised our kids and had good lives. I think you're going to love it, even if we don't have wild old lady slumber parties every week."

  "How many kids do you have, Sarah?" asked Polly.

  "I've got two boys. My oldest boy is at Iowa State and my youngest is a junior in high school. Both boys help their dad out a lot on the farm. Ben, the oldest, plays football some in college. We love going over to see the games. I was lucky today was an away game so I could come out here, though," replied Sarah.

  "How about you, Linda?" Polly pushed.

  "Oh, I've got five kids. I guess it never felt like I had enough. I loved having them around as little kids, then I enjoyed having them grow up some and now I've even got some grandbabies who like to visit me," Linda said.

  Then, Linda stopped. "Wait, this is supposed to be us finding out about you. So, Sarah, do you have a question for Polly?"

  Sarah gave a wicked little smile. "Alright Polly, here's one for you. Who is the first boy you ever French-kissed?"

  Polly giggled a little. "Really?"

  Sarah said, "Yep, really. We want to know something a little wicked about you."

  Polly laughed. "Well, it had to be in the back seats of the band bus. Which one was my first?" and she winked at the two ladies who were sitting with her.