by Amanda Tru
Jeffrey ignored her hilarity. “I liked speech and debate, and I didn’t want to be a politician or economist, so I thought maybe law…”
“Jeffrey, are you really interested in law?”
“I don’t think so.” He stopped to wait for another car and glanced at her. “I think I’d really like to do landscaping. Maybe do some more nursery stuff, too.”
“I think that sounds like interesting work.” He wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps; she didn’t want to follow in hers. “You’ve done a lot of it, right? So, you probably have an idea of what’s involved.”
“All my life. Dad says he’ll take me on as a junior partner if I still want it after I go to college.”
“Would you take business classes? Horticulture?”
“Yeah.” He drove in silence for a while and then said, “Dad didn’t make Penny finish college, but that was different. I think I’ll go for all four years.”
“A business degree would be helpful,” Eleanor said. She wasn’t qualified to give educational advice. Or was she? She turned in her seat to face him more fully. “Business and horticulture would both be useful, but talk to people who are actually successful in those fields—not just a college counselor. Get advice on what works best for you in your own situation, with a family business. You don’t want a cookie-cutter education. Everyone’s needs are different.”
“Uh, Eleanor, we’re homeschooled. Not a lot of cookie-cutting going on in the Anderson household. But thanks. My brothers and Lisa have all complained about the classes they had to take—and the ones that looked interesting but they weren’t allowed to take, or didn’t fit into their schedules.”
“One of my friends took a class in internet security,” Eleanor said. “I asked my counselor about it, and he said I couldn’t take it. I wasn’t in the program, or I didn’t have room for an elective, or something like that. Someday, when my email gets hacked, I’m going to go back and find that guy.”
“Everyone should know internet security,” Jeffrey said seriously, “but there’s thousands of people at colleges. I suppose they do the best they can, trying to get everyone the classes they need for their degrees. My friends in the public schools say the same thing. They get on a certain track and then can’t do anything else.”
The best they can. She almost wished her parents were able to hear this boy’s comments. He should get on a committee for education reform.
“It must drive Aunt Kathy crazy that she can’t solve all those problems. She really cares about kids and education.”
Eleanor felt a tiny—very tiny—twinge of guilt. Her mother did care. She was single-minded because she cared about kids and education. She devoted all of her time and attention to her work because she cared about kids and education. She thought Eleanor should be a teacher because she cared about kids and education more than she cared about what Eleanor wanted. Eleanor would rather plant trees with Jeffrey. Or learn how to plan and build structures with Uncle Gary.
“So, what do you want to do if you don’t want to be a teacher?” her cousin asked.
“Well, I’ve been thinking about that a lot.”
“What do you like to do for fun?”
“Fun? I’m not sure.” That was a good question. Eleanor thought about it. “I like music and concerts and art museums.”
“Really?” He sounded skeptical.
“Really! I wish I got outside more.”
“Why don’t you?” asked Jeffrey. “You can always just go out for a walk.”
“It’s cold out!”
“It’s Minnesota!”
The absurdity of her objection struck her. Unless she moved south, she should find something to do outdoors even when the weather wasn’t warm. “What do you do in the winter?”
“Skiing and snowmobiling and fishing. We go sledding sometimes, sometimes with chickens.” He made clucking noises and continued. “We’ve got snowshoes, as you know, but we haven’t used them much. There’s a skating rink in town, in the park, but you can just get outside at home. When my brothers were around more, we used to make labyrinths of tunnels in the snow. Last week, my friend and I made forts in the backyard, for a snowball fight, and then Sadie wanted to turn one of them into an igloo.” He chuckled. “Mom turned it into a science experiment and social studies lesson, of course, but it was still fun. She made the igloo, and then her friend came over and wanted her own house. So, they made her a little house and then they wanted a bigger one. So, they’re building an entire neighborhood in the backyard, with paths for roads and little snowmen people.”
Fascinated, Eleanor asked, “and they just play out there?”
Her own childhood had been enriched by team sports, music, clubs, and other scheduled fun. If her brothers had ever played like the Anderson kids, she hadn’t seen it. Of course, they lived in town, and they were all so busy. Her mom said it was good to keep kids busy, to keep them out of trouble.
“I guess I could take up snowman construction,” she said.
“Hey! You could make a giant bride in the front yard of the farmhouse, with a fancy wedding dress. I bet we could give it a lot of detail. You can use water to help shape the snow. That would be awesome!”
Jeffrey’s enthusiasm was tempting, but Eleanor shook her head. “Your sister’s worked awfully hard to overcome the farm image for her bridal salon. She likes the snow in the front yard to be smooth. We stay on the sidewalks. But we could do it in the backyard!”
“Not nearly as much fun,” Jeffrey said. “So, do you think you’ll keep working for Uncle Gary, then?” He took a turn a little too fast and cast a guilty glance in her direction. “Sorry.”
“I think so. I like it,” she said, “and I think I’m good at it.”
Eleanor turned her back to the wind, holding her hair out of her face with mittened hands. A hat would have been sensible, but they always made a mess of her hair. David leaned over the engine, apparently oblivious to the January cold.
“Can you tell what’s wrong with it?” Her teeth were chattering, bringing memories of the first time she met him here.
“I think so. Go start it up.”
Eleanor opened the car door and slid inside. “Okay, step back.” She waited for him to move.
“Start it up,” he shouted.
She leaned out the door. “I’m waiting for you to move. I don’t want you to get hurt when I start it.”
He walked around to where she was. “Okay, I’m here. Now start the engine.”
Was he laughing at her? Eleanor complied and sat in the car while David examined the running engine, unable to watch him poking around the moving parts. Odd… She’d been willing to let Uncle Carl do it.
He closed the hood and she turned off the engine. “Is it terminal?”
“Only in the battery.”
“The battery?”
He grinned. “Terminals, battery, get it?”
She shook her head.
“You can’t tell me you don’t know how to use jumper cables,” David said.
“Oh! Battery terminals. Yes, I’ve done that! My roommate and I had to jumpstart her car when she left the lights on. We found a YouTube video.”
“A YouTube video. Well, that was resourceful.”
“That’s the real thing we need to teach people,” she informed him loftily. “How to find the information they need to know. Always start with Google.”
“It’s a good place to start.” He tossed his tool bag in the back of his truck. “Where can I wash up?”
“Inside. We can eat at the conference table.” She chuckled. “That’s what Uncle Gary calls it, but it’s really just one of those collapsible white plastic tables. We keep it in the closet and bring it out for special occasions.”
“Like lunch with your favorite mechanic.” David gave a little bow and held up his greasy hands. “Where’s the washroom?”
“So, is it going to be expensive?” Eleanor opened a container of grapes and set it between them. “Please tell
me it won’t be expensive.”
“I don’t think it will be expensive. It looks like your fan belt’s loose. I can put a new one on for you. If that doesn’t fix it, it might be one of the other belts.
So, it’s something that can be changed at home?”
“If it’s a belt.” He took a sandwich and peeked under the top slice of bread. “Crunchy or creamy?”
“Crunchy, of course,” Eleanor said.
“Of course. It’s awfully nice of you to make lunch for me,” David said.
“It’s more nice of you to look at my car. I really appreciate it. I’m always asking Uncle Gary to do favors for me. He says he doesn’t mind, but… I don’t like being indebted to people.”
“Well, this makes us even.” David held up the sandwich. “Thank you.”
“You’re a cheap date.” Eleanor bit into her sandwich, wishing she’d not said that.
“I like peanut butter sandwiches. They remind me of youth and college.”
She rolled her eyes. “You aren’t exactly middle-aged.” Ugh. They had to get off the topics related to the matchmaking agency. “Aunt Violet and I are still learning how to handle meals. She’s never lived on her own before. She grew up in the farmhouse and lived there with the entire family—about 15 people—until she retired, then she moved into a house in town with her brother, and then she moved in with my Grandma, and when Grandma moved to Florida, Aunt Violet moved in with Uncle Carl. Now she’s nearly 90, and she’s living alone, back in the farmhouse. In the annex, anyhow. Penny lives upstairs in the farmhouse, but they both have separate entrances.”
“But you’re living with her,” David pointed out, “so she’s still not really living alone.”
“She says she is, because it’s her house. She invited me as a guest. A temporary guest.” She laughed at the expression on his face. “Yes, that’s what she said: a temporary guest. I wonder what she’ll really think of living alone, when she does it.
“She never married and had kids of her own?”
“No, never.” Eleanor folded up her paper napkin. “But she’s always had nieces and nephews—and grand-nieces and grand-nephews—living with her, and she was like another grandma to them. I never knew her very well, of course. I’d only met her a few times.”
“And here you are, living with her.”
“She seems to think it’s normal,” Eleanor said, “and my options are pretty limited right now. I needed something in a hurry, when Uncle Gary went in the hospital, and she took me in. I need to find a place of my own soon.”
“Does that mean you’re staying here?
“Yes,” Eleanor said. “I am. I’m going to take a permanent job with Uncle Gary. I like it here.”
He smiled, creases forming at the corners of his brown-green eyes. “I’m glad.”
When she said it was the original family farmhouse, he’d assumed it looked like most midwestern farmhouses: two-story frame houses with shabby white paint and a peeling porch with overgrown shrubbery and a rutted driveway leading around back to a pole barn twice the size of the house.
This was bigger and looked more like a business than a home. The Penny Anderson Designs sign hung from a wrought iron frame. A bridal shop. David stepped from his truck onto smooth blacktop. Two other cars sat at the end of the little parking lot. Brides? He grimaced, glad he wouldn’t have to go inside. Eleanor said it was an annex, with a separate entrance.
The back yard was friendlier, with a patio and fire pit. Trees and piles of frozen leaves edged the lawn, still bare and muddy in February.
“Can I help you?”
David turned to see a blond woman in a blue and white plaid coat. “I’m looking for Eleanor Nielson. Is she here?”
“No, she’s out of town. Can I help you with something?” Her expression conveyed annoyance rather than any desire to be helpful.
“Are you Penny?”
The girl shook her head. “Brittany Green. I’m a friend of Eleanor’s.”
“She’s mentioned you.” David took a step forward, hand outstretched. “I’m David Reid.”
“Oh.” She walked forward slowly and shook his hand. Eleanor’s gone to Minneapolis for her parents’ anniversary.”
“Already? I’d hoped to catch her before she left.”
“Were you going to go?” Brittany tipped her head and regarded him with interest. “She said you weren’t.”
He shook his head. “I ran into her uncle at a job site, and he said she was going alone. He’s worried about her car and asked me to drop off a charging kit.”
“Drop it off? Don’t you live in St. Cloud?”
He rubbed his jaw. “Gary’s busy, after being out of work for so long. I had some spare time.” He’d offered to do it, pretending to believe that Gary’s thinly-disguised attempt at matchmaking was a genuine request for a favor. He wasn’t as sure of his own motives or feelings. Now he’d wished he’d come yesterday, just in case she really did have car trouble.
“You missed her.”
He did miss her. Even with their brief acquaintance, with few conversations and the issues between them, he missed her. “Can I leave the charging kit here? It’s in my truck.”
“Sure.” Brittany gestured for him to precede her. “You never know… she might really have a need for it.” Her tone indicated skepticism.
“I’ve never been here before,” he said over his shoulder. “It’s not what I expected from an old family farmhouse.”
“It’s mostly the bridal salon, and Penny’s family can do anything. Gary has the construction business, and Penny’s dad is a landscaper. Her fiancé is an electrical engineer and all-around handyman,” Brittany said. “The inside is beautiful. Would you like to see it?”
He shook his head. “I’d probably better get back to work.”
“Oh, come on. You drove all the way out here. You might as well come inside for a few minutes.” She grabbed his elbow and tugged. “There aren’t any brides in there—just Penny and Violet. We were eating lunch and saw you come in the yard. Violet wanted to point a shotgun at you for trespassing.”
Brittany, Penny and Violet. He’d rather face the shotgun. “I don’t think so.”
“They don’t know about the online dating. They think you and Eleanor know each other through Gary and her work there.” She smiled. “You’re just friends.”
Well, that was what Eleanor had wanted: friends. No, she’d wanted a date for a party, as if Betwixt Two Hearts was an escort service. He’d been mad, hurt, humiliated, and disappointed. And the next time he saw her, in that ridiculous hard hat, all of those things melted away.
She tugged again. “Come on. Look—there’s Violet, peeking out from behind that lace curtain.” She waved at the old woman, who beckoned in response.
He gave up. “Okay, but just for a few minutes. I don’t think Eleanor would like it.” The word ‘stalker’ occurred to him, but he was on a semi-legitimate errand for her uncle, after all, and he’d met Violet in the hospital. It would be rude to ignore her.
That hadn’t taken long. The old lady’s interrogation techniques should earn her a place in the FBI. The younger women sipped their coffee politely and murmured encouragement as he told Violet about his family, his faith, his goals, and everything else she wanted to know. So far, she hadn’t asked about Eleanor.
He shot a harried glance at Brittany, who smiled blandly and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You know, you’re lucky to have such a supportive family. I’m feeling bad for Eleanor right now.” Her limpid blue eyes met his. “Those people will eat her alive.”
“Nonsense!” Violet set her cup on the table, missing the saucer. “They’re a fine family. You’ve never even met them.”
“I know what Eleanor tells me,” Brittany retorted.
David admired her courage and hoped she survived the discussion. Her desire to throw barbs at him—totally unjustified—had led Brittany to disparage Violet’s family. He resisted the urge to smirk at her.
Brittany continued. “She keeps saying, ‘I know they love me’, ‘I know they want what’s best for me’, ‘they’re really nice people’, and so on, over and over, but they don’t understand her or respect her.”
Violet frowned. “What do you mean, they don’t respect her? Of course, they respect her. They love her.”
“They call her all the time,” Brittany said, “and they send her emails with job openings—teaching jobs, in the cities. She’s told them she doesn’t want to be a teacher, and they treat her like an obstinate child, humoring her for a little while and then dragging her back into good behavior.”
“They are kind of pushy,” Penny said. “Aunt Kathy used to quiz us, as if she thought we might be behind in school. I ran away and hid whenever she was here. Lisa always got stuck with her, because she was too nice to avoid it.”
“Kathy was a nice girl,” Violet said. “She was.”
“Mom finally told her to leave us alone. She said we weren’t trained seals.” Penny chuckled. “Later, Aunt Kathy sent her a list of private schools in the area, ‘just in case.’”
“And this,” Brittany put in, “is where Eleanor would say ‘I know they just want the best for me.’”
They seemed to have forgotten him. He took a drink of his coffee and kept quiet.
“I know she was upset with Laurie about this party,” Penny said. “She said she was praying for a blizzard.”
“So, she wouldn’t have to go. Laurie’s the worst of the bunch. She’s one of those super-achiever, perfect people who make everyone else look bad.” Brittany snorted. “She insisted on having this big party with expensive gifts for a 35th wedding anniversary, and she called Eleanor every other day, telling her all the details.”
“That girl has a whole nest of issues,” Aunt Violet said. “She’s the most insecure person I’ve ever met.”
