For Keeps (Aggie's Inheritance)

by Havig, Chautona

  Cari started with thanks for ice cream, swimming at the pool, and puppies before her prayers took a unique turn. “Thank you fow puppies. Don’t let them die fwom bad shots. Fowgive Aunt Aggie fow huwting puppies. I’s sowwy I kicked hew. She was bad, but I’s sowwy anyway.” She leaned close to Lorna and whispered, “Did I sound sowwy enough?”

  Her twin, with a glance at Aggie’s face whispered back, “You should say really sorry. That means it’s true.”

  The child’s face frowned, and her fingers clasped tighter as she held her hands folded in Aggie’s lap. “I-- I--” Cari whispered to Lorna once more. “I bettew not say it then, cause I weally don’t feel sowwy. I just want the puppies to be ok.”

  A strangled cough nearly upset Aggie’s composure. Her eyes slid sideways at Luke as if to say, “Don’t you dare make me laugh, buster.”

  “Ok, Jesus. That’s all. Goodnight. Amen.” Bright but sleepy eyes smiled up to Aggie, confirming to all that confession is indeed good for the soul.

  With another round of hugs for anyone willing to accept them, Cari followed Tina upstairs to change into a new nightgown and brush her teeth. Lorna, next on the prayer agenda, seemed fixated on her sister’s unrepentant kick. “Jesus, forgive Cari. She’s not sorry, but I am. Can I be sorry for her? Thank you. Thank you, Jesus. Goodnight. Amen.”

  As if in a reality show designed to compete for most bizarre children’s prayers, Kenzie hardly let Lorna move from her spot before she dropped to her knees and began an imitation of one of the elderly men at The Church. “Oh, Jesus. Oh, my Jesus. Thank you Jesus for Jesus. You are my hard place in the rock. You are my soul’s satisfication. Thank you for your intense blessings. Forgive us our tresses and deliver us from thy kingdom forever amen.”

  Pleased as punch at the impressive sounding prayer she thought she’d delivered, Kenzie very primly bade everyone goodnight, and with mincing steps, made her way to the stairs. The room erupted in unfortunate laughter when, looking back over her shoulder to see the effect she had on her audience, she tripped and landed on her posterior. Tears of mortification combined with wails of misery until Tina hurried down the stairs, scooped her up, and tried, unsuccessfully, to carry her up the stairs.

  “Sorry, kiddo, you’re just too much of a big girl to carry.”

  “They laughed at me!”

  “Kenzie, you were putting on quite a show. Of course, they did. If you don’t want people to think you’re goofing off, then you have to be sincere about serious things like prayer…” Tina’s voice faded as she led the embarrassed girl up the stairs and into her room.

  “Well, that was original,” Libby commented with a last chuckle at the memory of the unusual heavenly petitions.

  Aggie scooted over closer to Luke’s chair and patted the couch. “Come watch with us.”

  The woman began to demur, but something in her son’s face changed her mind. “What are we watching?”

  “For Me and My Gal. It’s almost over. I’d suggest starting over, but I think Luke would kill me.”

  Luke snatched up the remote again, and punched the menu button. He found the option for the beginning and clicked. “Never say that I hate musicals, Aggie. This is one of the best I’ve ever seen.”

  With a girlish sigh, Libby pulled a throw pillow from the corner of the couch, bunched it under her arm, and curled into the opposite corner from Aggie. “I haven’t seen this in so many years…”

  Aggie says: I know you’re probably not home yet, but I wanted to thank you for taking the kids to the pool and out to dinner. Having a few hours to myself really refreshed me.

  Libby says: Well, I knew I was a nobody, but I didn’t realize just how much.

  Aggie says: Huh?

  Luke says: Just dropped mom off, and she had me come in and help put a few things away. I saw your ding and had to tease you.

  Aggie says: Well, you’re right. That was really ungracious of me. I’m tired and not thinking very clearly.

  Luke says: Mibs, don’t. I was just joking. It wasn’t a rebuke. I knew what you meant.

  Aggie says: You’re right. I seem to be a little out of sorts tonight.

  Luke says: I should have gone with them so you could have peace

  and quiet.

  Aggie says: Nah, watching movies with you is fun.

  Luke says: Uh, oh. Mom’s ready for me. She’ll be here after she tells me what to do. She’s good at that, you know. She’s had my lifetime to perfect it.

  Aggie says: Oh, you’re going to be so busted when she sees that…

  Luke says: Sees what?

  Luke says: I am not Luke. Hmph.

  Aggie says: He closed out, didn’t he?

  Libby says: What is my Luke up to now?

  Aggie says: He was saying something about how you had a lifetime to perfect how to tell him what to do.

  Libby says: Oh, he did, did he?

  Libby says: Traitor

  Libby says: My Luke is being very naughty.

  Aggie says: He’s hanging around with bad influences.

  Libby says: You’re hardly a bad influence, Aggie.

  Aggie says: Who says I meant me? I was thinking of Cari and her unrepentant kicking.

  Libby says: Please tell me you wrote that down somewhere.

  Aggie says: My journal is upstairs, but I’ll try to remember.

  Libby says: I’ve taken to keeping a computer document open to type out the funny things the kids say when they’re at my house. I print them out and send them home with their mothers so they can have a record of it.

  Aggie says: That’d work. My laptop is usually open on the counter for recipe reference, email, chatting with my mom, or music playing.

  Libby says: I hadn’t thought about music on mine. I’m still in the dark ages of CD players in a stereo system.

  Aggie says: Tina considers me “dark ages.” I don’t have an iPod or any other “i” product.

  Libby says: I’ll have Luke show me how to put some of my favorites on the laptop. That’d be better than blasting music from one end of the house to the other.

  Aggie says: True. Anyway, I know it’s really late. I didn’t mean to keep you. I just wanted to thank you for taking the kids tonight. I really appreciate it. It was nice to relax, watch a movie with a friend, and not have to fear the silence from the rest of the house.

  Libby says: Oh, yes. The silence. That is one of the most terrifying “sounds” to a mother’s heart. Well, I am glad you and my Luke got to rest. I was half-afraid you’d con him into working, and you both need the time off.

  Aggie says: Libby, do I expect too much out of him? He’d tell me, wouldn’t he?

  Libby says: Mom showed me your question. I’d tell you, Mibs. As you’ve seen, when I need to be gone, I am whether it’s more work or a day with Rodney or fishing with Chad. I’ve done them all this summer, so we’re good.

  Aggie says: Thanks. Well, goodnight. I’m going to bed before it’s too late to bother.

  Libby says: Night, Aggie.

  Losing Her Marbles

  Chapter 11

  Friday, August 29th

  Lost in what seemed to be a recurring bad dream, Aggie heard the cries of children and groaned. “Why don’t people keep an eye on their children?” she muttered as she rolled over. “If I ever have children--” That thought dragged her, mentally kicking and screaming, from that wonderful world of somnolence into the world of consciousness.

  “Cari! Lorna! Where are you?” She threw back the covers, her eyes gritty enough to make it impossible to see clearly, and stumbled from her room and to the stairs.

  Two little girls, looking absolutely adorable in their new nightclothes, regardless of, or perhaps because of, the grumpy looks and tears streaming down their faces. “Aunt Aggie, we’s feels awful.” Cari, as usual, spoke for both girls.

  “Well, come curl up with me in my bed, and we’ll all feel better in no time.” Aggie hoped to settle them enough to doze for another half an hour or so.

  The mo
ment they hit the sheets, each girl curled up against her as if they’d feel better the closer they were. The extra body heat was stifling. Summer was the wrong time for early morning snuggles under the covers. Just as she decided to get up and get them some breakfast, she realized that it wasn’t just their proximity. The girls were over-warm.

  “Aunt Aggie, I scratch.”

  “You scratched yourself?”

  “No,” Lorna shook her head a little gingerly. “I scratch. My tummy scratches.”

  “Oh, it itches?”

  The girl’s forehead furrowed. “Well, I itched it some, but it doesn’t help.”

  Laughing, Aggie corrected the child’s terminology. “No, sweetie, your tummy itches and you scratched it. Itching is when it’s irritating and feels funny. Scratching is what you do to try to stop it.”

  “Ok, then I itches and scratches isn’t helping.”

  “Well, let me see it.” Aggie prayed they hadn’t found poison ivy or something equally contagious. The last thing the kids needed before starting school on Tuesday was a nice case of poison ivy.

  Sure enough, a rash covered their little bellies, the upper parts of their arms, and the upper parts of their legs. “Oh, no! What have you guys been into?

  Indignation darkened Cari’s face. “We’s hasn’t been into anyfing! We’s been asweep!”

  “But yesterday. What did you do yesterday?” Aggie examined them closer, trying to see what they could possibly have.

  “We played wif the puppies, went swimming, and had ice cweam.” The child’s recent ability to pronounce the “th” sound appeared to have evaporated overnight.

  “Well, I don’t know what this is. It could be a heat rash, I guess. It didn’t cool off much last night…” Frustrated, she crawled from the bed again. “You two stay right here. I’m going to go get Tina. Maybe she knows.”

  Tina took one look and reached for Aggie’s phone. “Call the expert. Libby will probably know just from a description or something. She seems to know everything.”

  Feeling like a needy nuisance, Aggie punched the number for Libby and waited for the woman to answer. “Good morning, Libby. I’m sorry for calling so early, but we have a situation here.”

  “What’s up?”

  Hearing the woman’s voice made Aggie disgusted. It was her opinion that no human should be anywhere near that chipper on that particular morning. “The twins have some kind of rash. I don’t even know what to call it to Google it. Can I beg you to come over and see? It’s either you or the clinic, and you know how they already think I’m an idiot.”

  “Now, silly, I’ll be over in a bit.”

  ~*~*~*~

  “Just as I suspected. Chicken pox.” She smiled reassuringly. “So, who has had it and who hasn’t?”

  With a shrug, Aggie picked up her phone to ask her mother, but Vannie answered. “None of us have had it yet. Mommy wouldn’t let us get the vaccine--something about overloading the body and effectiveness. Anyway, the doctor said that it’s harder to catch now than it used to be.”

  The girl’s words sank into Aggie’s heart, weighting it down with new cares. “So, does that mean it’s more dangerous to get now if you don’t have the vaccine? Should I get the other kids shots right away to prevent them from getting it? School starts on Tuesday!”

  Libby put her arm around Aggie’s shoulder and led her to the kitchen. “Why don’t you start on breakfast? I’ll send Tina for some Caladryl and the girls will be comfortable in no time.” At the look of protest on Aggie’s face when she glanced at the confused and miserable little girls huddled on the couch, Libby added, “Don’t worry. They’re going to be fine. Getting the chicken pox when you’re still young is usually harmless. Uncomfortable, but harmless.

  “Ok… is it really contagious? Should we separate them?”

  “Well, we can try, but it’s probably not very effective. You’re contagious for a day or two before the rash appears. All the children were in the car with them yesterday.”

  Those words didn’t help Aggie’s confidence. “And how long before the next person breaks out if they were exposed yesterday?”

  “Aggie,” Libby’s voice was deliberately patient, and Aggie knew it. “They could have been exposed anytime in the last two weeks! Whoever exposed Cari and Lorna, probably Corinne’s children,” Libby sounded as apologetic as she looked, “most likely exposed the others too.” Smiling, she added, “On the bright side, if Vannie and Laird haven’t gotten them by now, they might have acquired an immunity somehow. Maybe a nurse gave them the vaccine without knowing she wasn’t supposed to or something.”

  While Aggie pulled out boxes of cereal, milk, and the leftover honeydew melon from the previous day’s snack, Libby took charge in the living room. “Well, now. I think we’ll turn the library into sort of a sick room. There’s no reason not to try to isolate the little ones on the off chance that they haven’t already spread it.

  “Oh,” she continued, hardly pausing, “does the clinic have their medical records? You might consider having them sent, just in case someone gets really sick and you have to take them in.”

  Nothing, not even Libby’s chipper attitude, could wipe the feeling of dread in Aggie’s heart. As the children munched on their cereal, she read about chicken pox online, staring at the pictures of rashes as if they were the cause of her latest trial. She mentally calculated how long the disease could take if each child got them one at a time, and, a little over-dramatically, prayed that everyone was healthy by Christmas.

  Luke arrived a while later with a bag full of items designed to soothe the children and make their ordeal more bearable. As he unloaded the items on the desk in the library, he glanced toward the living room and frowned. Aggie sat, head in her hands, the picture of dejection. Libby gave him an understanding smile and took a box of oatmeal bath powder. “Come on, girls. Let’s get you a nice comfortable bath, and then I’ll put pink lotion on all of your spots.”

  The other children had disappeared outside to play with the puppies. They all seemed quite determined to avoid getting what Kenzie persisted in calling, “the chicken box.” Occasionally, someone peeked in the window to watch the spot-covering procedure, but the Milliken-Stuart household, sans Ian, had never been so free of ever-present children. The difference was so marked that Aggie said in disgust, “Now Murphy will come over to accuse me of stifling them. I can hear it now, ‘It was too quiet, your honor.’”

  As promised, the bath seemed to soothe the girls, and while Aggie made calls requesting medical records, Libby covered each individual pock that she could find with a drop of calamine infused with antihistamine. Tina took guard duty over Ian and Kenzie while Luke settled the little ones in the library with a stack of books, promising to read every single one. Between two Dr. Seuss silly tales, Libby gave them each a dose of Tylenol and brought them fruit and juice to enjoy.

  As Luke finished yet another story, he glanced at the girls and quietly closed the book. Each girl lay curled in her own beanbag chair, sleeping. He glanced up at his mother as she cut out flannel nightgowns for winter and said, “This isn’t exactly getting the basement done, is it?”

  “I’m sure Aggie appreciates the help. She’s going to need it. I tried to downplay her fears of weeks or even over a month of pox, but I think it’s likely.”

  “How many of us got them together, Mom? I only have a vague recollection of it at all. It itched.”

  Libby’s eyebrows drew together in a concentrated effort to remember. “I’m not sure, but I think it was two at a time. I know it was several years apart.” She glanced in the living room where Aggie clicked her way through page after page of information on her laptop. “Go talk to her, son. I think this is overwhelming her, and I should finish folding these clothes and keep an eye on the girls.”

  He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around his mother. “You’re the greatest; did you know that?”

  “Oh, Luke--”

  “No, really. Remember that song th
at Dad used to sing about wanting a girl like his dad married? That’s exactly what I want--a girl just like Dad’s best girl.” A discernible sadness filled his eyes. “Dad would be so proud of you. He loved knowing you had a heart for young mothers.”

  With pink-tinged cheeks, Libby pushed her son away saying, “You certainly learned your father’s gift for flattery. Go whisper sweet nothings to someone else; I’m not listening.”

  Aggie, once again, sat with her head in her hands, looking like the picture of dejection and despair. He looked back to the library and saw his mother watching. Her encouraging nod gave Luke the confidence to try to comfort her. At first he patted her back, trying to think of something encouraging to say, but then realized she was praying. Relief washed over him as Luke tugged her hand out from under her chin. Prayer was something he could handle.

  Minutes passed before Aggie raised her head and smiled at him. Without a word, she rose, dragged herself into the kitchen, and he heard her pulling things from the freezer. The familiar clink of her whisk against the glass pitcher she liked to use for lemonade gave him hope that she’d come to terms with the children’s illness.

  As she handed him a drink, Luke noticed that the rueful expression she’d developed as his mother pronounced her diagnosis wasn’t gone. Instead, she looked even more distressed than ever. “Hey, Mibs, are you ok?”

  Aggie shook her head. “Actually, no. I called Mom to tell her about the latest drama in this house and see what she knows about school and chicken pox and stuff.” Frustration was etched in her features. “Luke, Mom says I never had chicken pox either. I just never got it.” If her distress hadn’t been so genuine, she would have looked comical in her fresh waves of despair. “I was all over those little girls this morning, trying to figure out what the rash was. I scrubbed my hands and arms and changed my clothes but--” Aggie hardly paused in her frantic monologue of the day’s ills. “They all went swimming together, were cooped up in that van all the way there and home… If you’re contagious before you break out, then can I let them go to school on Tuesday? I mean, that’s just crazy, right? How much school will they miss?”