The Return

by Margaret Guthrie

  #

  Margie heard Mr. Lambert ask Jake how his father was and Jake answered that he was about the same. Penny volunteered that he had his 84th birthday last week and they had a little party at the nursing home where he lives. “But he didn’t know why they were putting this paper hat on him, and he got angry and fought them off, wouldn’t let them put it on.” She laughed a little, but Jake frowned at her and she stopped.

  “And how’s your mother?” Mr. Lambert asked.

  “All right. She’s slowing down.”

  “She moved over near to the nursing home?” Mr. Lambert asked.

  “Yeah. It’s a short walk over.” Jake sipped coffee and chewed on a cookie, looking away as if uncomfortable with the questions.

  “Jake’s sister came for a few days. His father didn’t know her. It makes us all sad.” Penny smiled at the Lamberts. Not many people inquired about the elder Jacksons. “Alzheimer’s is no fun.”

  “Does your mother get out? We miss her at church,” said Mrs. Lambert. “She was so active on the Fellowship Committee. But we have younger ones taking over now.” Her voice was a little melancholy, or regretful.

  Margie stepped over with more cookies and Jake helped himself. “I’m so glad you came, Penny. I really appreciate that Jake set us up with food, had the furnace going and the house in order back in March when we first came. But for some reason, we’ve never met.”

  Penny laughed. “I work, that’s why. I have a job at the nursing home where Jake’s dad lives. So I’m gone early and often get home late. Sometimes I help Mom out. She’s so crippled with arthritis, she can’t get around very well. Uses a cane and all that. She doesn’t drive anymore.” Penny sighed. “We have to take her if she wants to go anywhere.”

  “I’m sorry,” Margie said.

  “I see you’ve cleaned up the back yard,” Jake said.

  “Oh, yeah. Lydia did that.”

  “Well, when you need that big pile of trash dealt with, let me know. We can burn it, with the proper permit.” Jake seemed enthusiastic with this idea.

  Lydia nodded. Sure, she was going to do just that, but why was he so enthusiastic? It occurred to her that he might just like to burn the old shed with all the papers she was discovering about that time in which he was involved so long ago.

  “Jake’s good with a chainsaw, too,” Bertha volunteered. The Stevensons had drifted over as this conversation continued. “He’s done a lot with that stand of pine trees on the northwest section of the school grounds. The children like to play there, and he’s cut off the low branches so they don’t get their hair tangled up in them.”

  “I remember that windbreak,” Lydia chimed in. “It used to be off limits, didn’t it?” She remembered seeing older children out under those trees doing something suspicious, something not quite right. At least that was the feeling she remembered.

  “From time to time,” Bertha confirmed. “It was a tempting place to hide out when children didn’t want teachers to know what they were up to.”

  “A place for sneaking a smoke?” Lydia volunteered. Bertha nodded. Or flirting and playing around, Lydia thought.

  “But your house is very close to one end of the windbreak,” Margie observed. “Isn’t it?” She had not yet walked over that way, past the school bus barn, on the other side of the school house and the play equipment, swings, slides, etc.

  “Yes,” Mr. Stevenson said. “But with Jake keeping it trimmed up, we haven’t had much trouble. Thankfully, we just haven’t had the drug problem some schools have. But if they go to Delora, that might change.” He finished his cup of lemonade, having switched from coffee. “You know, Bertha, we’ve got that appointment. Good luck, girls, with your new venture.” He nodded to Lydia and Margie, then stepped back from the little group. He stuffed his napkin into the lemonade cup and looked around for a place to put it.

  “Oh, here,” Margie said, reaching out for it and taking it from him. “Thanks for coming.”

  Jake and Penny decided to leave as well, and soon Lydia, Margie and Peter were the only ones left. Together they began picking up stray sticky cups and napkins.

  “Thanks for coming, Peter,” Margie said.

  “No problem.” He smiled broadly and picked off a stray bit of paper out of her hair. “I’d say you’re going to be a great success in New Hope.”

  “You think?” Margie looked flushed, yet happy. Lydia saw that this had been a good day.

  Chapter 20