Special Delivery

by Judi Lynn

  Chapter 8

  She wasn’t quite sure what to do the next day and decided to clean the living room. She needed to keep busy or Axel would drive her nuts. He didn’t want eggs for breakfast. He didn’t want cottage cheese or Ensure.

  “I could make you toast,” Karli offered.

  “I like French toast.”

  “If you come to the kitchen to eat, I’ll make it for you.”

  “Never mind.”

  She was determined not to give in this time. If she caved and took him breakfast every time he refused to get up, he’d never get up. That irritated him, so he turned up the volume on his TV.

  Fine. Let him. If she dusted and swept the living room, she’d have a room to relax in. There was so much dust she tied a handkerchief over her nose and mouth. She dug in the broom closet and found an old vacuum cleaner with attachments. She picked the closest corner and started sweeping. She got the cobwebs and walls first. Then she started on the sofa and overstuffed chairs. Two hours later, she still hadn’t gotten to the wooden floors.

  When she switched the vacuum off, Axel called, “There’s no TV in there. If you want to watch something, you’ll have to watch what I pick.”

  He really was a pain in the ass. She called back, “You’re behind the times, old coot. I brought my laptop and I can watch TV on that. Movies, too. And I brought a stack of books to read. I have plenty to entertain myself.”

  She heard him grumble. “Enjoy it while you can. Just wait till the kids hear that you’re snooping in my business. They’ll roar in here, ready to line their pockets.”

  “You talk too much.” She went to the refrigerator and grabbed one of the beers she’d bought. She carried it to the parlor and closed the door. While she sipped, she wondered: Would people come like Axel thought they would? If they did, she could get out of this place. Someone else could take care of him, and Axel could stir the pot all he wanted.

  Her thoughts settled, she went to finish cleaning the living room.

  “Hey, girl! Was that a beer in your hand? A beer would sure taste good right now.”

  She started to say Screw you, but changed her mind. If a beer would make him happy, why not? She’d hated the old man for as long as she could remember, but he wasn’t as bad as she’d remembered. Or else she was older and didn’t have to put up with his crap anymore. She wasn’t sure which.

  She opened a bottle and took it to him. “Only one. You’re on meds. You’re rotten enough sober. I sure don’t want to see you tipsy.”

  He grinned.

  “I’m happy I can entertain you.”

  “Cool your jets. You’re working yourself into a tizzy.”

  She plopped two pieces of cold fried chicken on a paper plate and took it to him. She grabbed two more for herself. She hated to admit it, but Ralph’s chicken was even good cold. Her mom would turn green with envy. She went to the long, wooden worktable in the kitchen to eat it.

  Ansel called: “Don’t nurses care if someone eats healthy? I could use some applesauce.”

  She took it to him, rolled her eyes, and stomped away. Okay, first impressions weren’t that off. The old man was a damn nuisance. After lunch, she started on the floors. She had to empty the sweeper bag twice before she could finish when it clogged with dirt. She swept the floor a second time, too, just in case, and then damp mopped it. The oak planks needed to be refinished, but they were in good shape. When she was done, the room was spotless, but it looked downright sad. The paint had faded to a colorless hue. The furniture’s cushions were long dead. But there were two oak rocking chairs drawn by the fireplace with floor lamps next to them. She could sit there.

  The sun dimmed outside, and she turned on lamps to brighten the room. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was six.

  “An old man could die of starvation with you as his nurse,” Axel called.

  “I should be so lucky!”

  Axel had managed by himself before. He could now, if he had to. But Karli was starving after all the cleaning she’d done.

  The kitchen was buried in shadows, so she flipped on the switch for the overhead light. She warmed up the tamale casserole that Keagan’s mother had sent and carried a dish out to Axel. Supper tonight finished it off.

  He sat in the dark, too. Maybe a good thing. Then she didn’t have to look at him. He didn’t care as long as his TV was on.

  Karli turned on the lamp by his hospital bed and arranged his plate on the TV tray. “Eat up.”

  He frowned at her. “Why don’t you ever eat out here with me?”

  She handed him two napkins. “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the spills on your shirt or the yolk smear in your beard.” She gave him a long look. “Or maybe it’s your crappy disposition. Who wants to spend time with you?”

  He squared his shoulders. “I told you I wasn’t dirty. Keagan gets me in the shower every week.”

  “Whether you need it or not.” She shook her head. “Lucky him. I won’t fight him for the honor.”

  Axel’s gray eyes sparkled. “You’ve got some mouth on you, girl.”

  “I’ve heard that before.”

  He laughed. “I bet you have. Well, shoo now. Let me eat in peace.”

  She turned and went to the dining room to eat her supper. They had plenty of leftovers, but she liked a little variety. She decided to run to the store tomorrow to buy a few things. Beef and vegetable soup sounded good.

  After she cleaned up their supper dishes, she went to her room and called her mom. She wasn’t doing this for Axel. She had nothing but bad memories of him. She was doing it for her mom, trying to spare her another unpleasant memory. She’d move heaven and earth for her parents. “No luck today,” she told her. “Axel vetoed everything I thought of. I have a nurse coming to do an assessment in a few days, but he won’t pay for Meals on Wheels or a cleaning service.”

  “There’s only so much you can do. He won’t trust anyone, even if you’re trying to help him.”

  Karli paused before asking, “He says once your brothers and sisters hear that I’ve come to Mill Pond, they’ll think I’m after their inheritance and come, too.”

  “Oh, God.” Her mom groaned. “I sure as hell hope not.”

  Her mom hardly ever cussed. Unfortunately, Karli was known for having a potty mouth. “How bad are they?”

  “Most of us turned out better than we deserved.” She could almost hear her mom counting on her fingers. “Jackson tried his best to protect the rest of us. He’s the oldest, sixty-three. He worked for the railroad and bought a small ranch in Oklahoma when he retired. He won’t care about Dad’s money.”

  “You don’t either, but that leaves ten more.” With that many kids, there had to be a few who were financially struggling.

  Her mom said, “Ronnie’s sixty. He works construction, walks on high, steel beams. He never married. I don’t think he’ll care either.”

  “Okay, that leaves nine.”

  Her mom took a deep breath. “Kurt’s sixty-two and as mean as Dad. Always went from job to job, always broke. If he comes . . .”

  “I might leave.”

  Her mom chuckled. “I wouldn’t blame you. Sylvie’s next, fifty-four. Meaner than Kurt. She’s been married and divorced three times.”

  “No one can live with her.” How did women like that keep attracting men?

  “Maureen’s next,” her mom said. “I feel sorry for her. Sylvie bullied her so much, she turned out like Mom—scared of her own shadow. She married a controlling husband and jumps when he says jump.”

  Karli played with a strand of her hair, wrapping it around her finger. “I don’t remember meeting her at your mom’s funeral.”

  “She didn’t come. She doesn’t do anything without her husband’s permission.” Her mom paused. “I sort of lost track of my middle brothers and sisters. That’s sad to say, isn’t it?
But I have no idea where they went and what they’re doing.”

  “Where are you in the pecking order?”

  “I’m kid number ten. Mom had a miscarriage after me, so Ida’s five years behind me. She was a whiner, moody and bossy. She always thinks she’s been wronged. We weren’t close.”

  “And then there was Charlie?” Karli had fond memories of Mom’s youngest brother. They drove down to Mill Pond every summer when school ended to pick him up and take him to their house for the summer. He was thirty-eight, only eleven years older than she was. He was sweet and funny, and Karli adored him. Eloise had miscarried three times between Ida and him. After Charlie, she went through her change, and her childbearing days were over. Karli was only seven when Charlie graduated from high school and moved away.

  Mom’s voice had a lilt in it. “He’s still teaching in Oregon, married with three kids. I’m so happy for him.”

  Mom had paid his way through college at a regional campus in Indianapolis. She and Charlie were still close. They talked to each other once a week. “I told him about Dad. He won’t come, doesn’t want anything to do with him.”

  Karli thought through the list. “So, if someone comes, who do you think it will be?”

  “The ones you don’t want to meet: Kurt, Sylvie, or Ida.”

  Wasn’t that the way it usually worked? “Oh, well, if it gets too messy around here, I’ll pack my things and come home.”

  “Hey, you gave it your best. Dad has a choice. If he doesn’t take it, that’s not your fault.”

  That’s the way Karli saw it. If he didn’t want her help, that was his problem.

  After their conversation, Karli grabbed her romance novel and headed to the living room. Axel’s TV still flickered in the back room, but she could hardly hear it. He’d turned it down so that she wouldn’t take his remote and punch mute. He was a fast learner. She yawned and opened her book to where she’d left off. It had been a long day, but she wouldn’t be able to sleep if she didn’t relax first. It was time for a little fantasy escape.

  Chapter 9

  When Keagan stopped at Axel’s place on Friday, he delivered the mail and a ham loaf that Betty, who worked at Ian’s inn, had made. Karli let him in and motioned him toward the kitchen. Her dark hair hung loose today, halfway down her back; she wore jeans and a thin, black sweater. As always, she looked good. Brown bags covered the worktable.

  “Just got back from the grocery. I’m putting a few things away. Thought I’d fix you guys something to eat tomorrow since you’re working here for free.”

  He glanced at a dozen cube steaks stacked to be put in the refrigerator. “Swiss steak?” he asked. Ralph made a mean version of that dish at his diner.

  She shook her head. “Thought I’d go for chicken-fried steak with gravy.”

  “Now you’re talking!” His mouth watered. When she opened the refrigerator, he saw stew beef and frozen vegetables on the top shelf. “Do you like to cook?”

  She got the impression this was a serious question. Food must matter to him. “Once in a while. When I’m in the mood. Not every day. You?”

  “I can manage the basics.” He set the ham loaf on the stove. His mom loved gardening and cooking. Some of his favorite memories were spending time in the kitchen with her.

  Karli stopped putting groceries away and turned to look at him. “I’ve never tasted ham loaf. Will you thank Betty for me? I have a thing for international food—Thai, Italian, and Mexican. Is there anywhere around here I can find those?”

  He frowned. “Not in Mill Pond.”

  “I love food, but I’m just as happy if I don’t have to cook it. Do small towns offer much variety? I’ve been spoiled in Indy. Ethnic restaurants are scattered everywhere.”

  “Tyne makes all kinds of international food, but only guests can eat at Ian’s inn. I’m guessing you could find them in Bloomington, and I know you can in Indy.” He thought a minute. “Tyne’s coming tomorrow. I bet he’d give you some easy recipes.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to cook the food. I want to pay for it.”

  When she looked disappointed, he said, “I’m not bad at Italian.”

  Her brown eyes glittered. “What’s your specialty?”

  “Chicken carbonara and spaghetti with meat sauce.”

  “You’ll have to invite me for supper some time or stop by to cook for us.” She said it casually, but he got the feeling she was going to hold him to that. Did he mind? Not really. It had to be more fun than cooking for Brad.

  He glanced at the clock. “Well, I’d better get going. I have to finish my route.”

  She gave him a quick wave goodbye, and he’d started for the door when Axel yelled for him.

  “Hey, boy, I need you. I could use a favor.”

  Keagan frowned. Did he still expect applesauce and cottage cheese when Karli was cooking for him?

  “A favor?” Karli shook her head. “He never words anything like that for me.”

  “You’re a blood relative. It’s different.” Keagan stalked toward the back room. “I’m only a neighbor. I can ignore him.”

  “So can I, when he gets too feisty.”

  Keagan went to see what Axel needed. He did a double take when he saw the old man. He’d actually tried to comb his hair. Not that it helped. It was too dirty with too many knots, but at least he’d made an effort. “How can I help you?” he asked.

  “I’m getting a little ripe. I could use a shower,” Axel told him.

  Keagan expected the floor to open up and swallow him. He usually had to bully his neighbor into washing up. “When?”

  “Tonight, if you have time.”

  Keagan narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “Is a social worker coming to the house and you want to trick her, pretend you keep clean and tidy?”

  Axel’s expression went sour. “Will you wash me or not?”

  “I’ll be here.” If the old man would soap himself up, Keagan would get him under some hot water. “What if I come by when I get off work?”

  “Fine.” Axel flicked at his beard. “Why don’t you find some scissors and trim this up, too?”

  “Do you have a hot date? Is something going on that I don’t know about?”

  Axel sniffed. “Don’t get too full of yourself, boy. I just need a little cleanup.”

  “No, you need a do-over, but I’ll be here. I washed all of your sweat pants and T-shirts two weekends ago. We’ll get you in some clean clothes, too.”

  “If you say so.”

  Keagan cocked an eyebrow. “You’re feeling all right, aren’t you?”

  “Don’t push it.” Axel turned back to his TV show, and Keagan started for the front door.

  Karli called, “Since you’re coming, why don’t you stay for supper? I’m making vegetable soup.”

  “With beef?”

  “I’m putting it in the pressure cooker now.”

  That’s what his mom did, too, to get it tender. “What if I buy a loaf of bread at Maxwell’s? And I’ll bring wine.”

  “Perfect.” She looked smug, but immediately turned to grab onions, potatoes, and carrots out of the refrigerator drawer.

  Once back in his truck, Keagan thought about the look she’d given him. He must have been mistaken. Why would she look smug? Maybe because he was going to scrub Axel, and she wouldn’t have to smell him anymore. A bowl of soup would be worth that.

  With a satisfied nod, he pulled away, reminding himself to stop at Maxwell’s when he got to town.

  The rest of the day went quickly, and he found himself driving back to Axel’s by five-thirty. The rich aroma of beef stock and simmering soup wafted through the house when he knocked and Karli called for him to come in. He handed her the long loaf of French bread and a bottle of red wine when he found her in the kitchen. He sniffed and was sure he caught the scent of apples, too.
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  She smiled and said, “The apple dumplings will be finished soon. Why don’t you clean Axel first, wash up, and then we’ll have supper?”

  That worked for him. He’d get the crappy job out of the way, and then he could enjoy the rest of the night. He helped Axel into his wheelchair and then pushed him into the bathroom. He rolled up his sleeves and supported him under his arms to scoot him from the wheelchair to the bath chair made for invalids. It sat in and out of the tub, so he helped Axel strip down, and then lifted his legs to scoot him across the seat to the side behind the shower curtain. He tinkered with the water until it was the right temperature, then hit the button for the shower and closed the curtain most of the way.

  When Axel’s hair was soaked, he squirted shampoo on it and scrubbed, then rinsed. Next, he soaped up the wash cloth and scrubbed Axel’s back and bottom. He shook his head. Yup, he’d seen more of Axel than he ever wanted to see, but the old man couldn’t reach behind himself. He soaped the cloth again and handed it to him. “Go to it. Don’t miss any spots.”

  He waited until Axel gave him a call, then gave him a quick once-over, turned off the water, and dried him with a thick towel. He dried his hair, too, and ran a comb through it. “You’re nothing to brag about, but you’re clean.”

  The old man snorted. “Don’t forget the beard.”

  Keagan draped the towel over him and trimmed the wiry whiskers as well as he could.

  He grabbed a clean, disposable diaper and slid it on him, followed by the clean sweatpants and shirt. He pulled slippers on Axel’s feet and started to roll him back to his room.

  “I want to eat in the dining room.”

  Keagan stared.

  “Karli said I could if I cleaned up.”

  Was that what this was all about? “We’re eating out there,” Keagan told him.

  “I know.”

  Keagan scowled. “One nasty comment, and I . . .”

  “I know. You’ll hike me back to bed.”

  He would, too, damn it. He and the old man had an understanding.

  Karli carried a giant tureen to the cherry table, along with a platter that held the sliced bread. She put a trivet on the table and carried out a nine-by-thirteen dish filled with apple dumplings.