Marley made a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, but I don’t.”
“Oh.” Hunter looked down at her lap and sighed.
“But I have a friend who has a TV,” Marley said. “She doesn’t live far from here, and I’ll bet she has some movies you’d like too.” Marley called Abby’s number and quickly explained the situation.
“Sure, come on over,” Abby said cheerfully. “Paul’s just napping, and I’m baking cookies.”
“Cookies?” Marley winked at Hunter. “We’re on our way.”
“What’s your friend’s name?” Hunter asked as Marley drove.
“Abby. She has a granddaughter who’s probably a little younger than you. I think she’s five.”
“I’m seven,” Hunter said proudly. “That’s a lot older than five.”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Is the granddaughter there?” Hunter looked hopeful.
“I don’t think so. She lives a ways away.”
Now Hunter looked disappointed.
“But I’ll bet Abby’s got toys and things. She’s a good grandma. And, as you heard, she’s making cookies.”
“What kind of cookies?”
“I’m not sure, but knowing Abby, they’ll be good.”
A few minutes later, they were walking into Abby’s beautiful home, and Hunter was taking it all in with wide eyes. Before long, Hunter was seated at the breakfast bar with a warm snickerdoodle and a glass of milk, The Little Mermaid playing quietly on the kitchen TV.
“You are a godsend,” Marley quietly told Abby as they went into the living area to sit down. “Disney movies and cookies. Why, you should win some kind of a grandmother award.”
“I was baking to keep my mind off of the house-buying business.”
“Do you think you’ll hear tomorrow?”
“I hope so. One way or another, I’m tired of waiting on pins and needles. I think Paul’s getting a little impatient too.”
“But he’s still supportive?”
“Supportive might be an overstatement. But for Paul, I suppose he is. Mostly I think his work is wearing him down. He just doesn’t seem to have his same energy.” She shrugged. “Or else we’re just both getting old.”
“Like it or not, age does slow us down.” Marley glanced over to where Hunter was still happily munching, her eyes riveted on the small flat screen.
“It doesn’t slow everyone down.” Abby launched into a slightly unbelievable retelling of how Caroline had been entertaining three guys in her renovated backyard yesterday.
“Three guys?” Marley was skeptical. “Seriously?”
Abby filled her in on Caroline’s surprising social life, then glanced over to Hunter. “What’s the story here?”
Marley quietly explained. “After I picked her up, she didn’t want to be stuck in the gallery. Said it was boring.”
“It probably is, for a child.”
Marley frowned. “I just don’t understand a mother doing that, running off and leaving her child alone for so long.”
Abby shook her head. “Some parents.”
“Jasmine seems like a nice person. And I do like her. Plus she’s a talented artist.”
“That doesn’t mean she’s a good mother … or responsible.”
Marley sighed. “I guess not. Speaking of responsible, I should let Jack know we’re here.” Marley took out her cell and called, filling him in on the details and reassuring him that having Hunter with her was no problem.
“He still hasn’t heard from Jasmine,” Marley told Abby after she hung up.
“You don’t think anything happened to her?” Abby whispered. “I mean … foul play?”
Marley shrugged. “Jack sounded pretty nonchalant, like this happens sometimes.”
“Too bad. How about if I make us some tea?”
“Sounds lovely.”
Abby was just filling the teapot when Paul came into the kitchen. “Who have we here?” he asked with a puzzled expression.
“This is Hunter,” Marley explained.
“Hello, Hunter,” Paul said in what seemed a slightly grumpy tone.
“Sorry to crash on you like this,” Marley apologized. “But Abby had cookies.”
He nodded without a trace of a smile then picked up a couple of cookies and trudged away.
“Maybe Hunter and I should go,” Marley said quietly to Abby.
“Oh, Paul’s just in one of his growly bear moods.” Abby made what looked like a forced smile. “Don’t let him scare you off.”
Marley looked at the kitchen clock. “It’s still three hours until closing time at the gallery. That’s a long time to put up with us. Maybe I should take Hunter over to my house, although I don’t have a TV.”
“I know,” Abby said. “I have this little DVD player that I use for Lucy in the car sometimes. Maybe you could take that with you and a couple of movies, too.”
“Sure, if you don’t mind.”
“And some cookies.”
Abby scurried about gathering up things, and soon Marley and Hunter were back in the car and driving again.
“They didn’t want us there, did they?” Hunter asked as Marley drove.
“Oh, that’s not it,” Marley said. “I think Abby’s husband was just in a grumpy mood. Besides, we’ll have fun at my house.” Of course, Marley wasn’t too sure about this. Really, what did she have that was fun besides the tiny movie player? Still, she decided to give it her best shot.
Which is just what she did. And three hours later, Hunter did not want to leave.
After painting, shell sorting, playing slapjack, doing a puzzle, and watching only half of a movie, Hunter was not happy when it was time to go. “I’ll tell you what,” Marley said as they loaded Hunter’s things into the car. “Maybe we can do this on a regular basis.”
“What do you mean?” Hunter sounded suspicious.
“Like, where do you go after school when your mom’s working at the gallery?”
Hunter made a scowl. “The babysitter.”
“Well, maybe you could visit me—say, once a week—instead of being at the babysitter.”
“Really?” Hunter’s eyes grew big.
“If your mom’s okay with it.”
Hunter nodded slowly. “I think she’ll be okay with it.”
“Great. We’ll figure out a day that’s good for everyone. Maybe Wednesdays. Does that sound good?”
“Yeah.” Hunter smiled now. “That sounds real good.”
“It sounds real good to me too.” Marley smiled to imagine all the things she and Hunter could do on Wednesday afternoons: arts and crafts and exploring and games and whatever they wanted. This would be almost as good as being a grandma!
Chapter 26
Janie
Sunday evening, Janie’s online research revealed the symbolism of her father’s military medals. The one with the eagle was for prisoners of war, the Purple Heart for serious injury. Most impressive was the Medal of Honor, the most elite military award, given only to those who risked life beyond the call of duty in the midst of conflict. Janie’s father had been a real war hero.
She’d been tempted to mention her interesting discoveries to Victor several times while they’d been up at parents’ weekend with Ben. But something in her made her want to keep this information close to her chest, to figure this mystery out as best she could and to savor it. For whatever reasons, her father had kept this part of his life secret.
She reread the letters and V-mail, this time picking up a few more clues in regard to her father’s valiant efforts on the battlefield after being shot down. From what she could tell, he was responsible for the fact that most of his surviving air crew had escaped capture. Why he’d been captured was unclear. Apparently, that was
how her father had wanted it to remain.
Janie paced the house, trying to unravel the mystery of why her dad had been so tight-lipped about this whole thing. While other veterans rehashed their war stories and went to the veterans’ hall for dances and celebrations, her father remained quietly at home, acting as if the war had never happened.
Except for one thing: The war had changed him. She could tell by his early letters that before going to war, her dad enjoyed life, had friends, and loved her mother dearly. It seemed that being shot down and captured—and who knew what else—had changed him for the worse.
Janie stood in the living room trying to recall the many evenings when her parents sat quietly in here, reading or occasionally watching a TV program. Her father, who rarely engaged in conversation, couldn’t tolerate much noise or “silliness.” Their home, which always had a place for everything (and everything always stayed in its place), had felt stiff to Janie. Stifling and cold. Most of the time, Janie believed the emotional climate was her fault. Whether she’d left her shoes on the porch or an open book on the coffee table or her bike in the driveway, she was often on the receiving end of her dad’s chastisement.
But now Janie realized she hadn’t really been responsible for her dad’s short fuse. In all likelihood the war, or rather the casualties of war, was to blame. Her mother was probably just as hurt by all this as Janie. She’d married a delightful man, enjoyed a few weeks of marriage, and then her love had left her … only to return as someone else. It was no wonder that Janie’s mom ran such a tight ship. It was her way to avoid conflict, to survive.
The fact that Janie had been born about ten years after her dad’s return from the war seemed more like a miracle than a coincidence. She’d rarely seen her parents exchange any actual physical affection. Certainly, they loved each other. But it seemed that romance, for them, died during the war. If only she’d known these things while her parents were still alive. Instead, she had made her own assumptions, and with only her childlike memories to draw from, arrived at her own conclusions—all of which, it seemed, were in error.
Janie boxed up all the correspondence and the war medals and, unsure of what to do with them, placed them in the attic for the time being. She decided to keep her father’s desk. Maybe it wasn’t exactly her style … but maybe her style was changing.
The next morning Janie went to the florist and bought two dozen red roses, which she took to the cemetery, laying halves of the bouquet on each of her parents’ side-by-side graves. Then she sat down on a nearby bench and wept. Her tears were for her parents, for their lost love and lost lives, as much as they were for all the losses she had suffered as a result. She cried for all three of them. When she was done, she stood and dried her eyes and blew her nose, and then she apologized.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t understand,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry I judged and misjudged you. I never knew what you’d been through—both of you—I never appreciated the sacrifices you’d made. Please, forgive me. And, please, help me to remember you in a new light from here on out—and to respect you. I’m thankful for the gift you gave to me by bringing me into this world despite how badly this world wounded you both. Thank you.” She looked at the dates on their headstones, then remembered something. “Happy anniversary,” she said quietly. “I know if you were here, you’d probably wish me happy birthday, too. Thanks.”
As Janie was driving away from the cemetery, her cell phone rang and so she pulled over to answer it.
“Oh, Janie,” Abby exclaimed. “They accepted our offer.”
“Oh … really … that’s good.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m fine. I’m just, well, at the cemetery.”
“At the cemetery?”
“It’s a long story.” Janie sighed. “Just remembering my parents. You know it was their anniversary yesterday.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet you remembered.”
“Yes.” Janie took in a deep breath. “I remembered it because it was also my birthday.” The confession was a step toward healing.
“Well, we’re going to have to do something about that!” Suddenly Abby was conjuring up plans for them to celebrate in all sorts of ways, and Janie wasn’t even resisting. “I’ll see if Marley and Caroline can come,” Abby said as their conversation wore down. “Let’s meet at my house at eleven thirty so that Caroline can make it during her respite time. Maybe we can coax Darlene into an extra hour.”
“Sounds good.”
“If you have time, can you swing by the bank and sign off on the final papers?” Abby asked. “I’m about to head over there myself. Leslie said she’ll have it all ready for us by ten.”
“Not a problem. But I have to get Mario and his wife started on unloading my storage unit first.” Janie glanced at her watch. “We’re supposed to meet in a few minutes. But once I get them going, I think they’ll be good for several hours.”
“Hey, I should talk to those two about working for me on the bed-and-breakfast,” Abby told her. “I’ll need all sorts of help getting that up and running.”
“I’ll mention that,” Janie promised. “I know they’re both looking for more steady employment. And I’ll vouch for them. They’re really good people and hard workers.”
“This is so exciting,” Abby gushed. “Leslie said that we should have occupancy of the house by the end of the month. Can you believe it?”
“That’s great.” Janie smiled, remembering her dad’s desk. “I already have my first piece of furniture to go into my law office downstairs.”
“Great! If I don’t see you at the bank, I’ll see you at my house at eleven thirty.”
“It’s a date.” As Janie hung up she tried to remember when she’d heard Abby so happy and upbeat. Not since they were kids. Ironically, Abby was the most optimistic of the bunch back then. She’d been the instigator of some of their craziest stunts. “Fearless Leader” is how Janie would’ve described Abby in those days.
Of course, Janie had probably chalked that up to Abby’s parents. Fun and full of life, they had seemed a sharp contrast to Janie’s. But now Janie was viewing life from a different angle. Abby’s dad hadn’t been in the war or the military, but in some ways, looking back through hindsight, he’d been almost shallow. He never took anything terribly seriously. At the time Janie thought he was simply happy-go-lucky. Wasn’t it odd that his daughter had turned out to be comparatively unhappy in her own life? Well, at least until now. Things were changing for Abby, and Janie was glad to be a part of it.
The timing of getting the house couldn’t be more perfect for Janie. With her other things coming from New York in a week or so, she would now have another place to put them. As she drove toward the mini warehouse company, she imagined how she would set up her law offices in the basement of the B and B.
Ever organized, Janie had brought two sets of Post-it Notes with her. Green stickers meant the item or crate was to be moved to the house. She even wrote which room on some of the larger pieces. The orange sticky notes meant those things would remain in the unit. After less than an hour, she had placed the notes, and Mario and Rosa were already loading her things into the back of Mario’s pickup.
“Go ahead and unpack the kitchen things,” Janie told Rosa, with Mario acting as interpreter. “Wash them and put them away as best you can.” Janie knew that she’d probably have to rearrange some things later, but at least they’d be in the house. “I’ll be home around two.”
They both nodded, assuring her that they would handle it. Then, as Janie was driving away, she felt a fleeting doubt. Was she a fool to trust them with her things, her house, and her storage unit code numbers? After all, she hardly knew them. But so far, Mario had not disappointed her—not once. Really, what was there to worry about?
Abby had already come and gone at the bank, but Janie took her time going over
the last of the paperwork.
“Not all short sales are this smooth,” Leslie told her as she signed the last paper. “But because there were no liens and nothing out of the ordinary, it’s been pretty slick.”
“Well, you’ve certainly made Abby happy.”
Leslie grinned. “I’ll say. She was practically walking on air when she sailed in here to sign. Of course, she assured me that you’d be going over the papers more carefully.”
Janie handed Leslie back her pen. “Yes, I’ve always been a bit on the meticulous side.” She wanted to add that she hoped that would be changing—that it would feel good to lighten up some. Instead she just smiled and thanked Leslie for her help.
Then, wanting to clean up a bit for Abby’s celebration-birthday party, Janie swung by her house and was relieved to see that Mario and Rosa were already there. Mario’s brother was there as well, helping him to unload things. Feeling guilty for her unwarranted suspicions, Janie went inside to make some quick notes about what could go where, then quickly cleaned up and changed her clothes.
“You have my number if you need me,” she called out to Mario.
Feeling like everything was under control, Janie headed over to Abby’s and didn’t even feel bad for being a few minutes late.
“Surprise!” her friends yelled when she walked in.
Janie laughed. “Like I didn’t know.” But she thanked and hugged them, and Abby handed her a margarita.
“You told me you didn’t believe in birthdays,” Caroline teased.
“People change,” Janie told her. “Hey, is this Chuck?” She bent down to pat the head of a pretty golden retriever.
“Yes, meet the newest man in my life.” Caroline chuckled.
“She’s not kidding,” Abby told her. “This weekend, sweet Caroline was inundated with males.”
“Really?” Janie peered curiously.
Caroline waved her hand. “Don’t ask. Trust me, it was a mess. I’m still working it out. Chuck’s my main male at the moment.”
They all laughed.
“How was parents’ weekend?” Caroline asked Janie.
Hometown Ties Page 24
