For Keeps (Aggie's Inheritance)

by Havig, Chautona

  “Tavish would, if she’d just ask him--”

  “Tavish watches him more than all of us put together.” A flush covered Vannie’s face. “Well, except for Aunt Aggie.”

  “Gaggie!” Ian’s delighted little voice brought smiles to all faces. He reached for her, and Aggie took him.

  “Listen; all you had to do was bring him to me.”

  “But you were resting. Laird was just--”

  The boy’s voice interrupted without apology. “What Laird does doesn’t matter. It’s unimportant because Laird does it. Now, if Vannie does it, it must be of vital importance and must not be halted for any reason.”

  “Stop.” Her voice, quiet but firm, showed that she had little patience left for their nonsense.

  “But--”

  Aggie glared at her niece. She wasn’t proud of the anger rising in her and showing on her face, but frustration won over conscience and before she knew what she’d said, Aggie snapped, “Listen to me, young lady. When I say stop, I mean stop!”

  Defiance, something she’d never seen in the girl, welled in Vannie’s eyes. “No. I won’t stop. You act like this is all my fault, and it’s not. Laird is being lazy and getting away with it--again. I hate this! I want Mommy back. She’d make him do what was right.”

  With a flounce worthy of any overly dramatic teen movie, Vannie stalked to her door, flung it open, and slammed it shut again. Unsure what to do, Aggie turned to Laird and pointed inside his room. “Just go in and stay there until I come talk to you.”

  “I’m sorry, Aunt Aggie. I should have just taken him.”

  “No, Laird. You should have asked me what you should do. Ian isn’t your responsibility.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just go do whatever you were doing. I’ll be back.”

  Shoulders slumped and tears in her eyes, Aggie started to climb the stairs to talk to Luke, but retraced her steps and went downstairs singing, “Guide me o Thou great Jehovah pilgrim through this barren land. I am weak but Thou art mighty. Hold me with Thy pow’rful hand…”

  On the couch, she squeezed a wriggling Ian and whispered, “Oh little man, what am I going to do?”

  Tavish entered from the kitchen, and Ian ran to him squealing. “Can I take him outside to make mud pies with the girls?”

  Aggie nodded, not thinking of what mud pies would mean. She hung her head in her hands and rested her elbows on her knees. P-mails flew heavenward faster than she could recognize them as hers. Her heart, burdened by the uncharacteristic outburst Vannie had displayed, felt as if it was breaking all over again. If she lost control of the older children now, she’d have no hope of keeping the little ones in line.

  Two feet appeared on the floor in front of her. The shoes were now as familiar to her as her own. “You heard?”

  “You ok, Mibs?”

  “Frankly, no. I’m not. Once again, I’ve proven that I cannot do this job.”

  “Don’t do it. Don’t let your mind go there.” Luke sank down onto his heels and tilted his head to see into Aggie’s pained eyes. “If you let yourself convince yourself that it’s too hard, pretty soon every little bump will be overwhelming.”

  “Maybe that’s because it is overwhelming. I just hate this.”

  “Hate what?”

  “Not knowing what to do. I am so unprepared for everything. Did I make a big mistake when I agreed to do this? I can’t go back on it now, but was I selfish? Over optimistic? Was I just arrogant enough to want to prove something to my sister?”

  Luke took her hands in his and was silent for so long, she nearly jerked them back and used them to shake whatever he wanted to say out of him. Sometimes she allowed herself the illusion of believing she’d grown accustomed to his long thoughtful silences, but then, inevitably, something happened to snap her back to reality. Just as she started to demand to know his thoughts, she realized he was praying. Her heart swelled with gratitude even as her anger deflated.

  When he finally met her eyes again, Luke’s own eyes were concerned--pained even. “Mibs, I think the only bad thing about your situation is that you have no one to encourage you. You jumped into something that few mothers ever experience, and when they do, they slowly add to their job, one child at a time.” He sighed. “They also usually have someone that comes home at the end of the day, holds them close, and tells them how much it means that they do all that they do. You don’t have that. Everyone needs encouragement, but I’ve seen it; all you get is incredulous and rude comments from people who cannot see how painful their words are.”

  “Not from you or your mother. Sometimes William--” She stopped. Most of William’s comments had been reminders of her failures and that she needed help. “Should I consider hiring help? It’d be a lot of money, but surely living with family and having help to do things like laundry and floor mopping and stuff would be better than having to get used to a new guardian when I crack.”

  “What makes you think you’ll crack?”

  “I thought you heard.”

  The man’s lips twisted as he shook his head. “Heard what?”

  “Vannie’s outburst; Laird’s guilt when she lost it. Everyone thinking that they carry more responsibility than they should?”

  “I heard,” he said after a minute or two, “a young teenaged girl become overly dramatic because her brother didn’t do what she expected him to do. Laird usually acquiesces to anything Vannie wants. She didn’t get her way this time, so she did what most teenaged girls do when they think they can get away with it: she created a scene.”

  “But she lashed out at me too.”

  “I think she has begun to see herself as on par with you. You’re not an authority figure anymore; you’re Aunt Aggie, the girlfriend who shares late night confidences and ice cream.” He hesitated again before he continued, “Mibs, I’ve heard you. You act as if you’re afraid to tell her what to do. She’s picking up on that, and it’s too much for her.”

  “So, I need to step back and stay the mom-type rather than the comrade aunt-type?”

  “I think you need to balance them. She needs you to exercise your authority when it’s appropriate so that she learns where that line is.” He sank back on the floor and wrapped his arms around his shins. “I bet when you first moved in with them, Vannie was hesitant to give you advice.”

  Aggie groaned. “Yes. I remember when Cari cut her hair, Vannie was so apologetic about saying anything, but she told me what she thought Cari needed.”

  “You need to get back to that spot and somehow blend it with Sunday night.”

  She stood, smiled her thanks, and glanced at the back door. “Will you make sure Ian isn’t drowning in mud? I have a teenaged girl to upset.”

  Luke waited until she reached the steps before he answered. “Mibs?”

  “Hmm?”

  “She needs to apologize. No matter what lines have been blurred, she knows what she did was wrong.”

  “But what she said was probably true too. She does want her mother back.”

  “And she used that fact as a weapon when she realized that she’d stepped out of line.”

  She didn’t know how to respond to him, particularly since she disagreed, so Aggie said the first thing that came to mind. “Thanks, Luke.”

  Outside Vannie’s door, Aggie sent a fresh string of P-mails heavenward and knocked. No answer came. She knocked again, and again, no answer. Frustrated, she turned the knob, ready to call out a warning, and found the door locked. Stunned, she stood there staring at the knob, unsure of what to do. The temptation to pound on the door and demand the girl open it was nearly overpowering, but Aggie controlled herself just in time. Instead, she turned on her heel and went in search of Luke. She found him starting up the stairs.

  “I need the smallest screwdriver you’ve got.”

  “Locked the door?”

  “Yep,” frustrated, Aggie almost ground the word between her teeth.

  “Not good.” He reached into a pocket of his tool belt and found a skinny scre
wdriver. “I’ll be praying for you.”

  “Thanks. Oh, I’ll need a regular sized Philip’s head screwdriver too.” With tools in hand, Aggie retraced her steps and began fumbling with the door. A muffled protest, followed by a screech when the door opened, prepared Aggie for the girl’s mental attitude.

  “Aunt Aggie!”

  “Vannie!” Aggie echoed with a little more sarcasm than she’d intended.

  “You can’t just barge in here!”

  “I can, and I did. You’ve just lost the privilege of a lock.”

  “I wish Mommy had chosen someone who knew what they are doing. You don’t know anything.”

  “I know,” Aggie said calmly as she unscrewed the door knob, “that your mother would never let you talk to her like this, and I won’t either. I also know,” she continued before Vannie could interrupt, “that you know better than this. There’s a right way to issue a complaint in this family, and you know how to do it. You chose to--”

  Tears exploded from Vannie who flounced to her bed and flung herself across it in a display that was freakishly familiar. Aggie remembered making a similar gesture when she was upset with Allie, and her mother didn’t show sufficient sympathy. She also remembered her mother’s very effective response.

  “Get up off that bed and blow your nose.”

  “No.”

  “You can do it yourself, or I can do it for you.”

  Vannie’s head shot up, stunned. “You--”

  “Will treat you as you act. If you want to act like you’re Cari’s age, I’ll treat you like Cari. Let’s go.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Vannie muttered as she shuffled out of her room, into the bathroom, and blew her nose on a tissue. She followed Aggie downstairs and into the kitchen. “Laird gets away with murder--”

  “You can focus on what you think Laird did wrong and end up in trouble for hours or days, or you can own up to your own faults and leave Laird’s between him, me, and the Lord. Which will it be?”

  “I--”

  “Think carefully before you answer.”

  “This isn’t fair!”

  “In the corner.” Aggie swallowed hard and prayed that Vannie didn’t see.

  “What!”

  “Nose in the corner.” That lazy, almost bored, expression that Aggie had been practicing came in handy. She schooled her features into perfect lazy ranks and raised one eyebrow as if using it to point to the corner.

  “This is ridiculous! You’re treating me like I’m five!”

  “You’re acting five. Every second you argue results in that many more minutes in there. Go.”

  Though still obviously inwardly defiant, Vannie marched to the corner, looking like a giant version of a livid Cari, and crossed her arms as she faced the corner. She muttered a few more times, but when Aggie didn’t respond, she gave up. Aggie, working to control her emotions, began unloading the dishwasher as if nothing had happened.

  The seconds ticked into minutes and then into the better part of an hour. Each time Aggie began to suggest Vannie could come out and they could talk like mature people, the girl began a fresh whine fest worthy of any preschooler. At last, Aggie spoke. “When you’re ready to come talk to me on the couch with some self-control and respect, you can come out. But,” she continued with an authoritative tone she rarely assumed, “if you come out with the kind of display you’ve been showing this morning, you’ll go right back in there, so be sure you’re ready.”

  Vannie whirled in place, fury on her face, and at Aggie’s shake of the head, spun back into the corner. Her fists were clenched, her body stiff and rigid. Aggie began to despair of the girl ever softening her heart. With a sigh, she grabbed a dust cloth and the polish and went to work on the living room furniture.

  The three littlest girls raced into the kitchen begging for snacks, and then stopped, frozen in shock, at the sight of Vannie in the corner. Cari’s awed voice whispered in a near shout, “Vannie does bad stuff too!”

  Loyal to a fault, Lorna shook her head. “Maybe not.”

  “She’s in the corner!” Cari protested with a tone in her voice that seemed to scream, “duh” at the end of the sentence.

  “Maybe Aunt Aggie was wrong.” Kenzie seemed confused-- worried even.

  Cari raced into the living room. “What did Vannie do? Why is she in the cownew? Did she get swats?”

  As she knelt to Cari’s eye level, Aggie dashed another P-mail off to the Lord for wisdom. “I think that is for Vannie to tell you if she ever wants to.” The child whirled to go ask, but Aggie stopped her. “You can’t bother her right now. Right now, I think you guys need to go get apples and then play outside with your mud pies.” Aggie tried to ignore the dirt crusted fingernails and shoes.

  To her absolute amazement, Cari smiled, hugged her, and dashed off to the kitchen shouting that they could all have apples. At the back door, the child let the others go ahead of her and crept back to where Vannie stood. “You should make that mad go away. It feels nicew when it’s all gone.” Then, as if nothing had interrupted her play, she skipped outside again, calling for dibs on a mud hole near the fence.

  Humming to herself, Aggie resumed her dusting, expecting a long wait for Vannie. She wasn’t aware of the song she hummed or even that she was humming at all. However, the young girl in the corner heard her and the softening in the girl’s face would have been visible had she not been staring at a corner. The living room and library were both dusted and the rag just put away when Aggie heard a sniffle. Her heart leapt at the thought that this could be over, but after puttering around the room for a few minutes, she gave up and pulled out the vacuum. With all the hardwood floors in the house, she hadn’t expected to need it anymore, but once the area rugs were down, it had become essential.

  The peppy hymns of praise that usually seemed to try to drown out the noise of the vacuum were noticeably absent. She hummed a few bars of different hymns, but the joy that generally radiated from her as she worked was gone. Section by section, she vacuumed, lifted the rug, sucked up any dirt that had beaten its way beneath it, and then vacuumed over the surface again. So intent was she to get one corner straight, she didn’t see Vannie appear at the library door.

  “Aunt Aggie?”

  Aggie glanced up and saw her eldest niece standing in the doorway, tears pouring down her face. “I am so sorry.”

  All doubt disappeared at the visible repentance in Vannie. She hurried to hug the girl and pulled her to one of the loveseats in the library. “I forgive you.”

  They talked for nearly an hour, and when Vannie finally climbed the stairs to make things right with Laird, Aggie had a better understanding of what was on the girl’s heart. All day, she mulled their conversation in her mind, anxious to talk it out with Libby when the children were in bed. Just knowing that someone was there to help her think through things filled her with a sense of gratitude. Vannie spent most of the rest of the day close by-- as if needing reassurance that all was well between them. That day, another facet of their relationship was chiseled to reflect a brighter light.

  Mibs says: Libby? Ohhhh Liiiibbbyyyy….

  Libby says: I see you’ve embraced your nickname.

  Mibs says: Well, I was saving that to tease Luke with; I just forgot to change it.

  Aggie says: There.

  Libby says: Well, I think he’ll be crushed if he gets online tonight and sees you’ve changed it. ;)

  Aggie says: It’s good for him to experience a few crushes now and then.

  Aggie says: Well, that didn’t come out right.

  Libby says: It was a little amusing. I wasn’t going to say anything, but I did chuckle.

  Aggie says: Oh well, you know what I meant.

  Libby says: That I did.

  Aggie says: Did Luke tell you about our drama-fest today?

  Libby says: A little. He said that Vannie has been putting too much responsibility on herself.

  Aggie says: After we talked for a while, I found out that she has bee
n trying to shoulder everything she can so Geraldine can’t find just cause to have them taken away. She’d pushed herself to the breaking point, and then snapped when Laird wasn’t ready to give her the break she needed at that precise moment.

  Libby says: Then it’s a good thing he didn’t.

  Aggie says: I was trying to think that way, but I failed. I just want them to have as normal a childhood as possible.

  Libby says: Aaah, but Vannie is at that lovely but terrifying age where she doesn’t feel like a child anymore, she knows she’s not an adult, and the alternative is terrifying.

  Aggie says: What alternative?

  Libby says: A TEENAGER.

  Aggie says: She will be thirteen in a couple of months…

  Libby says: So, did you work out a solution for her?

  Aggie says: I showed her the court papers, the restraining order, and her father’s letter to me. I had her speak to Mr. Moss, and I think she’s not so afraid of being taken away anymore.

  Libby says: I think that was a very good decision.

  Aggie says: On a brighter note, Luke said he would move my furniture back into my room tomorrow. He didn’t have to sand down my floors or anything, so I guess the room is done!

  Libby says: I can’t wait to see it.

  Aggie says: It’s going to be strange without him around as much for the next two weeks.

  Libby says: Don’t be surprised if he finds excuses to stop by on his way home a few dozen times. I’m not sure my Luke can survive for two whole weeks without his Stuart-Milliken infusion.

  Aggie says: I’m going to use that time to try to help Vannie finish up

  her clothes, get the kids enrolled in school here, and buy all the millions of school supplies that we will need. Three out of five backpacks were worthless at the end of last year, and the other two won’t make it the whole year this year.

  Libby says: Buy all new ones then. They will inevitably fail on a rainy day when they bring home their most expensive books.

  Aggie says: Aaah. Good point.

  Libby says: Oh, there’s the phone. My Luke is calling to say goodnight. I’d better go.

  Aggie says: Thanks, Libby. I hope to see you soon.