I looked at the swings, but the urge to use them had waned. I was right the first time: you can’t go back. Swinging had been a nice interlude, but I wasn’t a child anymore, and it would take more than youthful pastimes to help me with problems looming on the horizon like thunderheads.
Sighing, I got up and walked back to my car.
My faith in miracles was restored around one when the plumber arrived at Aunt Beth’s house. By midafternoon, a new fifty-gallon hot water heater sat in the closet, and every sink in the house had either stopped dripping or had a new faucet.
Overhead, a new roof sheltered the old house; brown ceiling stains were spackled and painted. So impressed was I by the sudden whirlwind of repairs all coming together at the same time, that I phoned the realtor and then invited Ingrid over for supper. To my surprise, she accepted. It would be the first time Ingrid had stepped foot in her sister’s house since she and Eugene parted, but it was time for celebration.
Tracey Haskins of Four Star Realty showed up as Ingrid and I were sitting down to eat.
“I’m sorry. I’ve caught you at a bad time.”
“No, really, I’ll show you the house. Let me check on Ingrid first.” I returned to the kitchen and ran a quick glance over the table, making sure my aunt had everything she needed.
“If I’d wanted to eat alone, I could have stayed home,” Ingrid stated.
I pushed her water glass closer. “This won’t take long.”
Tracey and I stepped outside and she took a few steps down the walk and looked back. Tracey sighed. “I’ve always loved this house. It would be beautiful painted a soft gray with white trim and charcoal accents.”
I looked at the house, trying to catch her vision. Tall, two-story, with a wraparound porch, it had clean, elegant lines I’d never noticed before. It had always just been Aunt Beth’s house, the place where I lived. For a moment, my heart ached at the thought of selling, and a deep longing swept over me.
I wanted to stay in Parnass. To live here, in this house.
The desire held me captive for one poignant moment before I regained my senses. I couldn’t live here! I had a job, and Columbia was the closest hospital around. I’d been told by Beth’s attorney that my inheritance would be sizable, but until properties were sold and the estate settled, I wouldn’t know the full amount. It would be large, but how large? Large enough for me to retire, to quit my job? Or large enough to live comfortably but frugally? Enough to buy a yacht? Or enough to put the money in tax-free bonds for Sara’s and the children’s futures?
Besides, Sara would have something to say about where I lived. Or she would if she ever got over the sulks. My continuing absence would be driving her into a conniption fit. She still hadn’t called, and I was starting to worry. I’d wanted to break her dependence on me, but it was altogether possible I’d broken more than I had intended.
I led the way into the house and Tracy stopped in her tracks, staring at the rocks in the living room. “Uh, those are rocks.”
“They are indeed. Beth collected them.”
Tracey shook her head. “Most people keep them outside.”
“Beth wasn’t like most people.”
Tracy giggled. “Neither is Ingrid. How come you’re so sensible?”
I didn’t take offense. “Someone had to be. I got elected.”
She bent over and picked up a fair-sized stone. “You could build a wall.”
I stared at her. “Why would I do that?”
Color filled her cheeks. “Well, no, I don’t suppose you’d want to do that, but if you did want to, you surely could.”
I sighed. “I’ll show you the rest of the house.”
She whipped out her notebook. “Sorry, the rocks sort of threw me. They go with the house?”
“Absolutely, I’ll even throw in additional ones if the buyer wants them.” I figured the offer was safe. Who in their right mind wanted a house full of rocks?
She shot another look around the cluttered room. “Right. A whole lot of rocks. Well, I’ll advertise the house as adventurous! Fun!” Her eyes focused on the rocks. “Perfect for the nature lover!”
We wandered through the house, with me pointing out the good points—high ceilings, which would be cool in the summer; oak woodwork; and a wide front porch. I pointed out the new roof, new faucets, and the repainted ceilings. Back in the living room, she raised her eyebrows again at the rocks.
“I’ll get rid of those as soon as I can.”
She nodded, apparently still at a loss for words.
We sat down in the living room, pushing sofa pillows aside, and took care of the necessary papers to list the house—a task I thought would be easy but proved to bring an unexpected surge of sentimentality. The house was part of my history, a past I would leave and never revisit. Closing doors to never be opened again was difficult—even for a rigid heart like mine.
Tracey filled out the listing form. “Old houses like these are easy to sell. Everyone wants to live in a piece of history.” She jotted down a few notes. “Let’s see, what was that asking price again?”
I gave her the amount Aunt Ingrid and I had agreed upon. She wrote it down. “Pity you can’t move back here and live. This would be a beautiful home if it were fixed up.”
That wasn’t an option. I had responsibilities at home, Sara and my grandchildren. Besides, there was no place for me in Parnass anymore.
Tracey drove a For Sale sign in the front yard and then left, promising to stay in touch. Not that I expected too much. I didn’t know the housing market, but surely there wasn’t much demand for old rock-filled houses in this town.
I wandered back to the living room and sat down on the sofa. Rocks covered the floor, piled in the corners, reposed on the furniture. What was I going to do about them? I couldn’t carry them all outside, and where would I put them if I could? No one would want to buy a house with a resident rock pile, whether the rocks were inside or out. Just one more problem on top of all the others. I leaned against the cushioned seatback, staring at the ceiling. Painters, roofers, plumbers, Ingrid, Sara, Vic—all my troubles had names.
God, I’m going under here. Could you send a boat? Maybe an oil tanker?
If he did, with my sins, it would probably have a hole in it. Meanwhile, Ingrid was probably expiring from curiosity, and I hadn’t had my dinner. I got to my feet and plodded back to the kitchen.
Ingrid steadily spooned carrots into her mouth. “Going to be odd to see strangers occupy this house.”
“It’s been vacant two years.” I poured a glass of milk, then closed the refrigerator door with my hip. “I thought you might want to buy Aunt Beth’s share of the property.”
“Don’t want anything that belonged to Beth. Good Lord knows we shared enough.”
Bitterness. It never stopped.
I’d stacked the last dinner dish in the drainer when the phone rang. I lifted the receiver with soapy fingers. Tracey Haskins’s excited voice came over the line. “We have a contract.”
Blank, I stared at the mouthpiece. “Isn’t that wonderful!”
“An offer? Already?” Great day in the morning!
“No, ma’am, we have a signed contract with no addendums. Full offer. Once you sign, the house is sold. Will you be home for a few minutes?”
“Yes…I’ll be here.” I hung up. That had taken what? An hour? Property wasn’t that scarce in Parnass, was it?
Marlene, your luck is beginning to turn. The Lord is shining on you. Don’t question good fortune.
Idiot! You sold too cheap!
Still. An hour? It seemed sacrilegious to dissolve my past so quickly. What could I say? I’d asked for a boat and God had sent the Queen Mary.
Tracey showed up with contract in hand. I glanced down the page to the signature. Vic Brewster? Vic was buying Aunt Beth’s house? I placed the contract flat on the table and fixed Tracey with a stern eye. “Why is Vic buying this house?”
She blinked. “He didn’t say. Does it matter? He
saw the sign when he turned into his drive and called me.”
I thought about that. Did it matter? I wasn’t sure, but I intended to find out. I hesitated to sign. Did I really want to do this? Then reason took over. I would inherit all of Aunt Beth’s estate, but not until I sold this house. My bank balance hovered just short of empty, and I had the plumber and the roofer yet to pay.
A frown formed on Tracy’s youthful features. “You are going to sign, aren’t you?”
“Why?”
“Because I could use the commission. Business has been slow lately.”
I could understand that. Without further hesitation, I picked up the pen and signed on the dotted line. The die had been cast. Beth’s house was sold, and gone with it my only reason to remain in Parnass. Aside from Aunt Ingrid and the wretched battle over Herman’s statue.
Tracey released a pent-up breath and got to her feet, gathering up her contracts. “We’ll get this closed as soon as possible. Thanks, Marlene. I’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you, Tracey. I never expected to sell it this fast.”
“Me, neither, but some things are meant to be, don’t you think?”
“Yes, I do.” Whether this was one of them, I wasn’t sure.
After Tracey left, I took Aunt Ingrid home and then walked across the street to Joe’s house. Usually he greeted me like a long lost friend, but tonight he wore a wary expression.
“Come into the kitchen. I’m working on this dratted robot. There’s got to be a better way to control it.”
Well, one could only hope. I sat down at the table and accepted the cup of filtered coffee he handed me from the only one of his inventions that really seemed to work. I had a feeling he knew what I wanted to discuss with him.
“Joe, why did Vic buy Beth’s house?”
He concentrated on his robot. “You wanted to sell, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but you never mentioned he was interested. Had I known, I could have sold it to him directly and bypassed a realtor’s fee.”
He examined the switch, giving it his full attention. “Vic and me, we’re sort of particular about our neighbors. Figure he can rent the place out to good people if he wants. Make a nice little investment, and he kind of likes Tracey—wants to see that she does well in her business.”
I nodded. That made sense, I guessed. Still, it left me with a disturbing feeling that something wasn’t quite right, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
Joe screwed another piece of plastic onto his robot. “Vic could get married again. He’s a fairly young man. Hard to tell what that boy’s got in mind.”
Vic was anything but a boy. My heart thumped erratically, reluctant to think of him married. The carnival came to mind, with Lana hanging on his arm. Perfect Lana. She’d be a good wife, but it broke my heart to think about it. Joe flipped the switch and the robot scooted across the table toward me. I flinched, and Joe caught the thing before it fell off the edge. He shut it off and blessed silence descended.
“You need to work on that noise. A woman wouldn’t think of buying anything that noisy.”
“I’m working on it—thinking I’ll have to put in a smaller motor.” He spoke absently, as if his mind was on something else. “You talked to Vic yet?”
I shook my head. “Not yet.”
“What’s stopping you? Longer you put it off, the harder it will be.”
Exactly the comforting words I needed to hear. The situation was bad enough. “I haven’t had a chance, with Ingrid and selling the house and all.” A lame excuse, and I knew it, but all I had at the moment.
“What are you going to do about Beth’s rock collection?”
“I’ll put it out back, make a rock garden.”
“You’ve got enough to build a good one.”
“I’ll start carrying them out tomorrow.”
He shook his head. “You leave them alone. I’ll hire a couple of high-school boys to do it. They’re always looking for extra money.”
“Good, I didn’t know how I could manage it alone.” What would I do without this man? Soon, too soon, I’d find out.
“What are you going to do about Ingrid?”
Yes, indeed. What was I going to do about Ingrid? I shrugged. “I don’t know. I make plans, and then look at her and know she’d never go along with them. Ingrid has a mind of her own, set in concrete hard enough to discourage a jackhammer.”
He laughed. “Always has been that way.”
“Not shy about speaking it either. It’s going to be a fight over that statue, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “Afraid so. Ann Parish is just as protective as Ingrid in her own way.”
“No one is as stubborn as Ingrid. They broke the mold when they made her.”
Joe set the robot over onto the kitchen counter. “She’s one of a kind, all right. Beth was too. Haven’t heard you mention Sara much since you’ve been back. She doing okay?”
I was grateful for the note of concern in his voice. “All right, I guess. I haven’t heard from her for a couple of days.”
His brow lifted. “You two have a falling out?”
“Something like that.” I didn’t want to talk about Sara. The list of things I didn’t want to talk about was getting longer all the time.
“They’ll let you know if they need anything.”
I hoped he was right. “I feel like I’m being pulled a dozen different directions. There’s Ingrid and Sara, and the statue. I don’t know what to address first.”
Joe slapped a scratch pad down in front of me. “Make a list, putting top priorities first, and Marlene, don’t leave God off. He’ll help you if you give him a chance.”
“Joe, I’m not a heathen.” I’d drifted—snapped an anchor—but I still talked to God, still prayed, and I knew he’d been with me from the day Noel left. If anyone had stepped away or fallen aside, it was me. Forgive me, Father…don’t give up on me. I’m slow, but surely learning I can’t live without you. I got up and set my cup down on the drain board. “I need to go. Talk to you later.”
I left, still not sure why Vic had bought Aunt Beth’s house, and wondering what Ingrid would have to say about it. I crossed the street, got my purse, and told Ingrid that Beth’s house was sold to Vic, and then drove downtown. A light glowed in the vet clinic. Vic was working late tonight. He always put in long, hard hours; I hoped Lana would be tolerant of his schedule. The thought of Vic and Lana together, forever, stung like alcohol on an open wound.
This time I was determined to talk to him. My mind was made up, and I wanted to, but how could I face him and what could I say? A flick of anger brushed me. Vic had to know how hard this was for me. Why didn’t he speak up? Irrational thoughts, I knew, but sometimes it was as if a demon invaded my mind, and until I kicked him, he refused to leave. I sat in the car for a long time, trying to get up enough nerve to go inside. God help me…God help me.
Joe’s voice sounded in my head: “Longer you put it off, the harder it will be.”
I loved Vic. I knew that without a doubt, but could I face his anger, his disappointment in me? Would he forgive me? Could we begin anew, work toward a future together—Vic and Marly, the way it should have been.
I weighed the choices, good and bad. If I went inside, it could be the final curtain on our relationship. If I left now, I might still have a few days with him…Just a few more days…
Dropping my head, I breathed, “I’m hopeless, Lord.” But was I? Or was I a woman trying to control my life, pushing God aside when his help wasn’t invited. I had a sinking feeling the answer was the latter, and I think at that moment, I sank to a new low.
Twelve
Chad Hargrave in the meat department beamed at me on Thursday. “Marlene. I heard you were in town.”
Like he could have missed that little tidbit. The CIA should study the way news circulated in small towns. Parnass Springs could have given them some real pointers.
“I’m here, Chad, but not for long. As soon as I get Ingrid settled,
I’m headed back to Glen Ellyn.”
He sobered. “Hear you’re planning to put up a statue of Herman. Good idea. Man was a blessing to the town. We wouldn’t have that dandy animal shelter if it hadn’t been for him.”
Mrs. Finney sidled up beside me. “Nonsense. You put up statues of important people. Herman never did anything important in his life.”
Linda Scofford joined in. “What are you talking about? He loved this town and loved us. That should count for something.”
Sadie Burton added her comments. “Granted, he loved the town, but do we need a statue? I mean, Herman wasn’t the prettiest thing around. Seems to me we could find something nicer to look at.”
The crowd gathered, and in a show of cowardice, I grabbed my package of ground beef and faded away. Joe was right—-this town was divided worse than the North and the South in the Civil War. Brother against brother, and all that. I pushed my cart down the aisles, jerking things off the shelves and dumping them into my cart as if I were in a race for my life. I unloaded them onto the conveyor belt at the register. Sounds of upraised voices and unfriendly words drifted from the meat department.
Malinda Adams smiled. “Hear you’re going to build a statue of Herman.”
I rolled my eyes. “And you object?”
She popped her gum. “No, really don’t care one way or another. Long as I’m not expected to pay for it, you can do anything you like.”
“I believe the plan has private donors.”
She shook her head. “Don’t that beat all? People will pay for the strangest things. Ask them to pay for something sensible like new storm sewers, and they can’t afford it. Something like this, and they have deep pockets.”
Malinda gave me the total, and I paid my bill and departed. The squabble at the meat department was still going on, louder with every passing minute.
I drove by the post office to mail a card to Sara. I knew she would get over her snit, but in the meantime, she could learn independence.
Liddy Hunt was dropping her mail in the slot as I walked in. “Just the person I wanted to see.”
“Liddy, if this is about that statue, I don’t want to talk about it.”
Simple Gifts Page 20
