Here We Come (Aggie's Inheritance)

by Chautona Havig

  The house did look worse than he’d expected, but it was still nothing to compare to the days of wallpaper removal and footprints in the polyurethane. He assigned jobs to each child, including babysitting the three youngest, and hurried upstairs. Aggie’s sobs reached him long before he reached the door to her room. Luke knocked.

  “So help me if you do not go away…”

  “Mibs?”

  “I mean it. Just go.”

  The sounds of her weeping nearly tore his heart out. Luke stood there, unsure what to do, but unwilling to leave. He pulled out his phone, his fingers hovering over the screen ready to call her parents if necessary. No, it wasn’t right. They’d have these kinds of problems for the next fifty years if God was that good to them. He couldn’t be calling either of their parents for every little thing.

  Discouraged, he turned away and went back downstairs. The cleanup progress was impressive for such a short amount of time. Sleigh Ride tinkled from his phone and he clicked it on. “Mr. Farley? Hey, thanks for calling me back. Yeah, I’ve still got problems with the water heater. Might have to put in a new one. Right. I don’t know if I’ll be done or not. I feel like I’ve wasted your time, but I had no choice. Yeah. Thanks.”

  After pocketing the phone, he glanced around him. “Are there dinner plans in the works yet?”

  Vannie shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

  The refrigerator didn’t seem to have anything thawing in it and the counters were bare. He flipped through the leftovers on the shelves and decided there was enough for a smorgasbord. Dinner would be easy even if the resulting dishes drove whomever had to load the dishwasher a bit nutty.

  “How about schoolwork? Who got theirs done today?”

  No hands raised. Ten eyes avoided him while six others didn’t bother to look. One finger pointed to the school room. “Go. Don’t come out until you’re done. I’ll take the baby.” He crooked his finger at Cari and Lorna. “Come with me.”

  “I don’t want to!”

  “I didn’t ask if you wanted to. Let’s go.” He waited for the continued protest. It usually would come, but for some inexplicable reason, Cari grinned and said, “Okay!”

  “Hey, Luke?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I only have about ten minutes worth of math and then I can stop for the day. I worked ahead.” Laird’s eyes looked upward. “If you wanted to go upstairs…”

  “Why didn’t you say that earlier?”

  “You asked who got theirs done. Mine isn’t.”

  With a tongue full of bite marks, Luke nodded and said, “Ok, just get it done.”

  Lorna piped up and asked, “Can we play with Play-doh?”

  “Great idea. Why don’t you get it out?”

  Juggling Ian while tearing apart salad greens was not as easy as he’d anticipated. Relief washed over him when Laird arrived to take over. “Can I take them downstairs?”

  “Sure. I’m going to get some of these dishes in the oven and then go talk to Aggie.”

  By the time he’d gotten the salad assembled, Play-doh was hardening, abandoned on the counter. Luke impatiently stuffed the lumps into the little plastic containers and snapped the lids on tight. A glance at the clock told him it had been a good half hour. Maybe she’d be ready to talk now.

  No sound came from her room when Luke reached Aggie’s door. He started to knock, but hesitated. “Aggie?” He knocked at last. No response came. Again he knocked and again the response was lacking.

  It occurred to him that she might be sleeping—that she couldn’t hear his quiet knock. He turned the knob, opening the door just a crack, hoping to see if she lay asleep on the bed. She was on the bed it seemed, but her sniffles told him she wasn’t asleep.

  “Aggie?”

  “What!”

  “Can I come in?”

  “No! Leave me alone.” There was an extended pause before she added, “Please.”

  Hesitation overtook him again, but this time he did not yield. “All right. I’ll go if you tell me you’re okay.”

  “Fine. I’m fine.”

  It was a lie, but he heard in it what he needed. She didn’t want to discuss it—whatever “it” was. It hardly seemed likely that some mud on the floor and toys strewn over the house could possibly be the real trouble.

  “Okay then, I’ll go.” Luke said, “I love you,” before shutting the door behind him.

  Seconds later, the door flung open and he found himself soaked in tears and shaken—as well as stirred—by her uncontrolled sobbing. A head peeked up the stairwell, but Luke glared at Laird and shook his head. He led her into her room and to the little loveseat by the window.

  “What’s wrong? Not what happened,” he amended quickly. “I want to know what’s really wrong.”

  “I’m tired.”

  Though it wasn’t the true problem, it was a start. “Nap?”

  “Are you nuts? I’d wake up and find the house destroyed.”

  “Then, tired is really a symptom. What’s the real problem?”

  A poorly suppressed sigh escaped as she said, “I’m a failure.”

  “That’s a lie. Next?”

  “Don’t call me a liar.” The faintest hint of her usual spunk managed to infuse itself into her words.

  “Then don’t lie. You are not a failure, so why don’t you tell me why you feel like one.”

  “Did you see the mess?”

  “Yeah. They got it cleaned up and are doing their schoolwork right now. Laird said something about a messy living room and broken glass.”

  “I got it all cleaned up—for all the good it did me.” This time there was something new in her tone—something he didn’t like to hear. Bitterness.

  “Mibs…”

  “You wanted truth. You got it. It took us three hours to make a simple ornament for Tavish. Three hours. I don’t have three hours a day for a week to put into making stupid ornaments because my sister was an over-achieving lunatic.”

  “Then don’t do them.”

  Aggie’s head whipped up, glaring at him. “Right. Just take the worst year of their lives and make it even worse by ignoring beloved traditions. Because that’s not qualifying myself for Worst Sorta-Mother of the Year Award.”

  “Quit trying to replace your sister. Besides, you’re actually one-upping her by making them. She took the easy route.”

  “Yeah, well it was your idea—sort of.”

  There it was. She sounded semi-normal. “Go buy them, Mibs. Buy a cheap frame and we’ll put a tiny picture of you with each one of them in it. Done. Meaningful, simple, and no-stress.”

  “And making me into a liar since I said I’d make them with them. Forget it.”

  A new idea occurred to him, and desperate, Luke switched tactics. “All right, you want to be miserable. I can deal with that. C’mere.” With arms wrapped around her, he held her, not saying a word.

  Aggie squirmed. “That’s not fair.”

  “Not fair?” he murmured. “How so?”

  “You know that I can’t be miserable with you here.”

  Luke listened as the story slowly unfolded. She was tired and already felt the loss of her friend’s help. His mind rewound to the stories she’d told of the first days as “mother” to the children and to how things were when they’d first begun work on the house. It was constant chaos back then, but then Tina had come, his mother had visited often, and that seemed to make a decided difference in how the household ran. She needed help, but how to provide it?

  “Well,” he said, pulling her up and leading her downstairs hand-in-hand, “then I’ll just have to be here more.”

  Luke says: Mibs? You there?

  Aggie says: Yeah.

  Luke says: Still okay?

  Aggie says: Until morning, sure.

  Luke says: You still sound a little down.

  Aggie says: I think after a good night’s sleep, I’ll be fine.

  Luke says: You’ll call me if you have trouble tomorrow?

&
nbsp; Aggie says: I will.

  Luke says: Then I think I will go to bed so that you’ll sleep.

  Aggie says: I love you, Mr. Sullivan.

  Luke says: And there she says the one thing that will tempt me to

  stay. Goodnight, Mibs. Sleep well.

  Chapter Seven

  Elf Wanted

  Saturday, December 20

  The crackling of the paper barely registered in Aggie’s consciousness. It crumpled as the words slowly imprinted themselves in her mind. By the time she fully grasped the content of the letter, it was a ball in her hand.

  “Aunt Aggie? Is something wrong?” Vannie seemed concerned.

  “No… Actually, I think something is right.” With that cryptic answer, Aggie climbed the stairs to check on napping children and call Luke. The news was good but with good came complications.

  Her fingers flew over her laptop keys as she tried to contact her mother about it.

  Aggie says: Mom? Help!

  Milliken says: What’s up?

  Aggie says: I got a letter from Mrs. Stuart’s lawyer.

  Milliken says: Oh, great. Now what?

  Aggie says: That’s the problem—it was just a note that said that due to the restraining order, she would not be sending Christmas presents.

  Milliken says: What? Really? Allie is rolling in her grave— cartwheels I’m guessing. Aaak.

  Milliken says: Sorry, had to do it. Giving it back to your mother, but that’s the best news I’ve had in ages.

  Aggie says: Mom! I can’t believe you said that. Wait. That’s Dad.

  Aggie says: I think it creates a bit of a problem

  Milliken says: What kind of problem?

  Aggie says: Christmas presents. I bought them each one and then toothbrush, favorite candy bar, and something silly for their stocking. You know, spray string, whoopee cushion, bubbles—stuff I usually would ban from the house.

  Milliken says: I don’t understand the problem.

  Aggie says: These kids are used to an overloaded Christmas. From the way you’ve described it, they spent all day opening presents, practically crying because they just wanted to be done. I don’t want that, obviously, but one present and three things in a mostly empty stocking is going to be just one more thing in a long line of disappointing things this year.

  Milliken says: You’ve got a point…

  Aggie says: I have four and a half… well, and a quarter days to shop. I can’t even shop online because I can’t risk it not getting here in time. I need to go to the stores and I can’t. Tina’s gone.

  Milliken says: I’ll have Dad bring me down early…

  Aggie says: No. We both know that’s not a good idea.

  Milliken says: Well, I want it to be a good idea.

  Aggie says: Gimme another one, Mom.

  Milliken says: Start calling everyone you know. Call Libby, the gal who helped when you were still in Rockland, Mrs. Dyke—anyone. Call them all. Set up times to shop with them and do it. Just spend the next three days shopping like crazy.

  Aggie says: I don’t even know what to buy!

  Milliken says: If you see it and like it, buy it. You can return stuff later if you find something better. You’re going to spend a ton of money. It’s ok. Half will probably go back so don’t panic. Go. Make those calls.

  Aggie says: Hey, Mom? I love you.

  Milliken says: You’re doing great and I love you for it.

  Finding people available to watch her children just days before Christmas was next to impossible. Iris Landry managed to offer three hours on Tuesday night after dinner. Libby didn’t know when she’d make it, but she assured Aggie that she’d come and take over the moment she could. Luke, seeing the distress in her, locked up the house on Cygnet and promised he’d be at her disposal until the day after Christmas.

  Sunday, December 21

  William pulled Aggie aside on Sunday after church. “How is Tina’s father? She hasn’t called in a few days and I was wondering…”

  “They had to go back in for something—I don’t quite know what. She starts speaking medicalese and I have no idea what it all means. I think he’s ok now though. Or,” she added, “at least he will be.”

  “Bet you miss having her around.”

  “Never more than now. Luke has to stop work on his house just so I can do Christmas shopping.”

  A quick shake of the head told her what he’d say before he spoke. “Waiting until the last minute will mess you up every time.” Yep. Exactly what she had expected.

  “Well, if I had known that the grandmotherly leopard would change her spots and not overload the kids with gifts, I would have been more prepared. I was—but not for nothing from her.”

  “That’s good though, right?”

  “Good except that she told me with only four days of shopping to go for eight kids.”

  “Ouch. Luke’s getting an introduction into big family life quickly, isn’t he? At least shopping will give you guys some time together.”

  She shook her head. “No, his being available lets me go, but he can’t exactly accompany me. Someone has to keep the kids from burning down the house and calling 9-1-1 every other minute.”

  A cry from the van told her she’d better go. “That’s my cue. Time to go. Call Tina. It’ll mean a lot to her.”

  The midnight corvette turned onto Last Street just as she flipped on her blinker for her driveway. Aggie frowned. What did William want now? The kids thundered into the house with such abandon that she knew the entrance would be carpeted in all forms of outerwear.

  Aggie carried Ian to William’s side. “Is there a problem? Do I have a taillight out or did I creep up to twenty-seven miles per hour on the way?”

  “No,” he laughed. “I just thought maybe I could stay here while you and Luke went out shopping.”

  “Oh, man that’d be great, but I can’t ask you to do that.”

  “You didn’t. I offered, remember?”

  Luke’s truck pulled up behind William’s car. Aggie waved and smiled. “I’ll ask Luke about it.”

  “I love seeing you like this.”

  She frowned, cocking her head. “Like what?”

  “You light up when he’s around.”

  “Do I?” She glanced up at Luke as he arrived at her side and reached for the baby.

  “Definitely.” William nodded at Luke. “I was just suggesting that you and Aggie go get lunch and then do some shopping.”

  ~*~*~*~

  The remnants of dinner at Luke’s favorite steakhouse cluttered the table between them. They were supposed to be discussing where to go first, but instead, hands locked under the table, they gazed wordlessly at one another. Luke smiled.

  “You know, I dreamed of this.”

  Aggie squeezed his hands. “Of what?”

  “Just being together—no fear of interruption—”

  “Can I get you anything else?” The impatience in the server’s tone said that she wanted the table.

  “Just the check.”

  A folder was dropped on the table, without giving much attention to them, and the woman hurried to the next table. Aggie giggled. “Nope. No interruptions—even by rude waitresses.”

  “It’s almost Christmas, and they’re bustling with business; you really can’t blame her.”

  “You’re going to leave a big tip, aren’t you?”

  “Yep.”

  On their way out the door, the server stared at them strangely when Aggie said, “We should have gotten engaged earlier. Maybe I would have learned these little things about you a lot sooner.”

  At his truck, Luke couldn’t restrain his laughter any longer. “Did you see her face? Priceless. Where to?”

  “Well, I was thinking we’d start with toy stores. It might not be the most well-thought out Christmas, but we can at least have it be a memorable one.”

  The aisles of toys that had always delighted her when shopping for her nieces and nephews daunted her now. She stared at things she’d never
heard of and read the backs carefully. Luke was in charge of a few family games—things that they could play together and for as many ages as possible.

  By the time he returned with an overloaded cart full, Aggie had managed to put two funky looking dolls in her cart—clearly meant for the twins. “Luke…”

  “No, not all of them. These were the ones that looked interesting. I got to thinking and I think you need three age groups: younger, older, and everyone.” He pulled out a few simple games and said, “Which one? I think this one has the broadest appeal, but it might be a bit much for Lorna and Cari. Then again, they’re almost four, aren’t they?”

  “Yeah… and we could set them aside for a while. Take that one and maybe that—memory and detail games are good for them.”

  While she debated whether Ellie would enjoy a pottery wheel or not, Luke hurried back to the game shelves with an armload of rejects from the youngest recommended age levels. The process repeated itself until half a dozen games took up a large amount of space in the bottom of the cart.

  Luke shook his head as she started to add the pottery wheel to the load. “I think you should talk to Mom about that. Olivia hasn’t stopped ranting about what a piece of junk those are and Mom always says that toy tools are a waste of good money.”

  “Great. It was the one artsy thing I saw that didn’t look cheap.”

  “We’ll find something for her. Maybe an art store?”

  “Don’t have time to shop at individual specialty stores for every kid!”

  “You don’t need to for all of them, but Ellie would appreciate good tools—even if from a hobby store.”

  Aggie spied a child’s toy oven and grabbed it. “Think this might be fun for her?”

  “Why? She uses the regular oven all the time.”

  “Because I’m desperate?”

  With his arm around her shoulder, he nudged her toward the fairyland for boys—that world of boxes and tiny pieces that are designed to delight burgeoning builders and terrify their mothers—or mothering aunts as the case may be—with choking hazards and sore toes. “Legos, K’nex, Erector, and even Duplo for Ian. You could buy nothing but this stuff and they’d love you forever, but look! There’s more! Act now and you can buy chemistry sets, forensic sets, biology sets, microscopes, telescopes, and much, much, more!”