To Be Where You Are

by Jan Karon

  • • •

  Nine-fifteen. He banked the fire, drank a glass of water.

  Historically, it was the most information ever quarried from the Harley Welch/Helene Pringle mines. He was a hero with his wife.

  He checked his email.

  From: snickersbar37@aol.com

  To: whitefieldtim@gmail.com

  Today at 1:08 p.m.

  Dear Father,

  I am thrilled you would ask!

  Unusual requests are my specialty!

  I promise to cross every i and dot every t.

  Tell me more!

  Emma

  On October 27 at 7:15 a.m., Tim Kavanagh wrote:

  From: whitefieldtim@gmail.com

  To: Emma Newland
  Emma,

  Are your services still for hire?

  I have an unusual request.

  Fr Tim

  14

  MEADOWGATE

  WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 28

  Lace sat at the table with Lily and Jack; Dooley paged through one of the vet books he kept at the house.

  ‘You an’ Dooley an’ Jack an’ Sammy an’ Pooh an’ Jessie, that’s six,’ said Lily, making notes. ‘An’ Willie an’ Harley an’ Cynthia an’ Father Tim an’ Doc Harper an’ Miss Olivia an’ Puny an’ her bunch—that’s six at one whack—an’ Tommy an’ Beth and Father Brad an’ Mary Ellen an’ Doc Owen an’ Miz Owen an’ Rebecca Jane, that’s twenty-five, an’ Blake an’ Amanda, that’s twenty-seven. With these numbers, most people would go potluck in a heartbeat, but you don’t want nothin’ to do with that. Any time you’re tempted, think back to your weddin’ dinner.’

  They had a laugh.

  ‘But you’ve got a while to figure it out,’ said Lily. ‘It’s not till December.’

  ‘I like to get it fixed in my mind.’

  ‘Who did we leave out?’

  ‘We need to count Dooley’s mom and stepdad,’ said Lace. ‘That’s twenty-nine. And we need to count you, too, Lily, and Violet if she comes. You have to sit down with us, it’s Name Day!’

  ‘I don’t set down.’

  ‘You have to this time. So what can we cook that will feed that many?’

  ‘You know I like to cook for crowds, so not to worry. Chicken potpie, you’d need three. Lasagna, oven kabobs, shrimp an’ grits. Or I could do my apricot-glazed turkey with roasted onion an’ shallot gravy.’

  ‘You’re showing off.’

  ‘I have to keep up, honey, it’s dog eat dog in th’ caterin’ world. Plus you’ll definitely want my breakfast casserole for people sleepin’ over.’

  ‘I vote for cherry pie,’ said Dooley, thumbing through the index.

  ‘Beth will have the junk room finished in time. We’ll put in two cots and start calling it the guest room.’ Goose bumps along her legs; she was excited.

  ‘An’ you’ve got those two sleepin’ bags,’ said Lily. ‘You could poke some poor soul down in them.’

  ‘Mom, I need more money to buy my helmet.’ Jack showed her his piggy bank. ‘Look at th’ counter; it’s not a three an’ a oh.’

  ‘You’re eight dollars away from your helmet. You still have six weeks before you get your bike, okay? So there’s plenty of time to find the rest of the money.’

  ‘But there’s no more in th’ driveway. I searched.’

  ‘You’re using your new big word. Very good! Remember the plumbers gave you two dollars—in your pajama drawer. That means you’re only six dollars away from a helmet.’

  ‘I could call Granpa Tim. He would give me six dollars—it could be a five an’ a one an’ you could put it in change.’

  ‘He would love to hear from you. Can you dial?’

  ‘No, I can’t dial! I jus’ learned Dad’s surprise! I can’t do everything, I’m a little kid!’ He heaved a sigh and dropped his forehead onto the table.

  She and Lily exchanged a look.

  Dooley was half listening. When he had the nerve to talk to Lace again about adopting—maybe the first of the year—he would suggest a girl. A little sister. Yes. Definitely.

  OCTOBER~ don’t know the date, maybe 30th?

  I never get to write here anymore. Stealing this time just for me. Beth taking an active role in Jack’s teaching . . . He used his new big word, search, in the past tense! He is quick to learn and loves to learn. He occasionally wets the bed and is terribly regretful and apologetic. I hide the pad under the sheet because he is sensitive about it. I read that it is okay if they sometimes wet the bed at four years~ it isn’t the end of the world!

  It’s hard to teach him good grammar with Willie and Harley as models, but I love Willie and Harley just as they are.

  I am trying to keep a record here because he will grow up so fast. Dooley did an iPad video the other night and I have tons of photos on my phone.

  J loves to be read to and loves to play like he can read. He goes into long narratives inspired by a book and does it at the top of his lungs~ he just devours books. At bathtime he washes his feet over and over. I don’t know why. I kiss them good night when I tuck him in after his story. I love his feet and his toes~ everything about him.

  Sometimes I think it would be wonderful to give him a brother or sister, but I don’t think Dooley is ready. There are so many hoops to jump through I don’t know how we could make it happen any time soon. And maybe I don’t really want to share my love~ I’d rather give it all to Jack, who had no love for four whole years of his life.

  When I talked with the social worker, I asked again how he could be so bright and loving and funny to have come from such a background. She said, ‘It happens more often than you would think.’

  Beth and I are doing a crazy thing~ because we need to get our junk out of the junk room and make it a guest room and because it is cold weather, we’re going to have the yard sale in the living room! We will start with a preview sale for our neighbors and put a sign at the co-op for what’s left and Beth will handle that on a Saturday. If we make any money we will buy a sofa. Yay! And maybe a chair!

  Thank you Lord for Beth!!!

  • • •

  Mom, when comes Christmas?’

  ‘Christmas comes two weeks after Name Day. It’s when we celebrate the birth of our Lord Jesus.’

  ‘With th’ cows an’ sheep?’

  ‘Yes, lying next to the manger, in a kind of barn.’

  ‘What’s a manger?’

  ‘It’s a trough that animals ate from back then. It was their dinner plate. There’s an old manger in our barn; we’ll go look soon.’

  There were times she loved his chatter as she worked, and times when it made her crazy.

  Today the sound of his voice helped ease her mind. She was mixing acrylics to capture the sun-baked, unpainted timbers of their barn. She preferred oils, but acrylics dried faster—too fast, really, for her work habits, but when the final moment came to roll up the canvas and ship it across the country, the acrylics would be dry and ready to travel. Not so with oils.

  ‘Will there be presents?’

  ‘You’ll get presents on Name Day. At Christmas, there won’t be so many presents.’

  ‘Could I tell my presents now?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The presents to get from Santa, I could tell you?’

  ‘Well, sure, but there’s no way to know what you’ll actually get. Where Santa is involved, that’s always a big secret.’

  ‘I could get a pony because I would already have a bike.’

  She smiled. No comment.

  ‘I could get a police car with pedals, with a siren like made Dad stop in th’ rain after th’ baby angel’s house.’

  No comment.

  ‘Or! Or!’ He tugged on her shirt. ‘This would be my favorite thing in th’ whole wide world.’

  Her s
on was a charmer. Totally.

  ‘Come down an’ listen, Mom, please!’

  She stooped; he whispered. ‘Forty books!’

  ‘Forty books!’ she said. She liked the idea of forty books, but it was way too expensive.

  She looked down into his brown eyes. He tugged again, for emphasis. ‘Don’t please say it so people could hear or it might not come true.’

  • • •

  Doc and Marge Owen had taken Dooley in every summer for years, and Father Tim used to come out all the time when he was a bachelor. Meadowgate had a history of hospitality.

  So she and Dooley had offered to have Thanksgiving at Meadowgate, but Cynthia wanted to do it at their place. ‘You have enough to do,’ Cynthia said.

  She was relieved. The mural somehow filled up the farmhouse; there was no getting away from it or from the reality of the deadline. Though her work was upstairs and out of sight, it was almost never out of her head. She was happy to go to somebody else’s house.

  She was giving thanks, for sure, that her dad would be home for Thanksgiving and then forever. Cynthia had invited her mom and dad and Mary Ellen and Father Brad and Beth and the Owens. Father Tim was baking a ham, no surprise, and Cynthia would make yeast rolls and buy an OMC.

  It wasn’t a potluck in the true sense, but some insisted on pitching in. Mary Ellen, who would be staying with Father Tim and Cynthia, was doing smashed potatoes with garlic and cheese, and roasted Brussels sprouts, which Dooley totally would not eat. Father Brad was bringing cranberry relish made by one of his daughters, and four bottles of Argentinean wine. Her mom was bringing two cherry pies, and Beth, who was not ‘versatile in the kitchen,’ was contributing a Valley-made pumpkin pie from the Local. As for yours truly, she was making the proverbial green bean casserole in a completely updated version. ‘How updated?’ said Dooley, who was dubious about ‘messing with a classic.’

  She loved getting ready for the holidays. But Thanksgiving, Finish-the-Mural-and-Ship-It Day, Name Day, and Christmas Day all in a row?

  • • •

  Rebecca Jane had come over to say hello and walk home with Doc Owen. She plopped herself down in the surgery where Dooley was prepping the table for tomorrow.

  When he was a kid coming out to Meadowgate every summer, Rebecca Jane had followed him around like a pup. Word was, she had a crush on Uncle Dools. He kind of liked that, as nobody had ever had a crush on him before.

  As she got older, he had a chance to watch her help around the clinic. She took it seriously, doing whatever she was asked, plus she could watch her dad in surgery and not flinch. The kid was as at home in a vet clinic as anybody he’d ever seen.

  But she didn’t come around much these days. A tough sophomore year, plus her mom was working at the college and Rebecca Jane had responsibilities at home.

  ‘So, how did the Danny Hershell scheme play out?’

  ‘It took four dimes, three quarters, five nickels, a half dollar, and fifteen pennies. I robbed my savings drawer an’ totally hated lettin’ th’ half dollar go, but it was worth it because Danny loves findin’ money. So I swept th’ concrete floor in that old building where he keeps his arrowheads an’ scattered th’ money around and glued all down. Th’ glue was industrial. I mean, he cannot get up a single penny without a jackhammer! Because he would never ruin th’ floor, it will torment him forever.’

  ‘Ah, Beck,’ he said. ‘I want to stay on your good side.’

  ‘I’m gettin’ even, I just am. It will be worth th’ investment of two dollars and five cents.’

  ‘What else is goin’ on?’

  ‘I finish my homework and check Facebook and Instagram and do stuff around th’ house till Mom gets home from college, and then what else is there to do?’

  ‘How are your grades?’

  ‘You know I always make straight As. An’ I have not been to the principal’s office one time this whole entire year.’

  ‘It’s only October,’ he said. ‘You need a job.’

  ‘What kind of job?’

  ‘Fill in for us at the clinic next summer. You grew up helping your dad—turn some of that experience my way. You know how to answer the phone and take care of clients; Amanda can walk you through what else you’ll need to do. I’ll talk to your mom and dad, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Deal?’

  She was beaming. ‘Uncle Dools! I thought you’d never ask!’

  • • •

  I didn’t know about your grandmother,’ said Beth, ‘until Lace told me. I’m so sorry. I wish I’d known.’

  Tommy was strapping his guitar around his neck. ‘When we texted, you said you were going through a tough time at work. I didn’t want to bother you.’

  ‘It wouldn’t have bothered me.’

  ‘You didn’t talk about what was going on with you. I didn’t want to cross any lines and spill my stuff.’

  ‘I hardly ever talk about what’s going on with me. I guess I can be pretty closed about my feelings.’

  ‘Your feelings aren’t closed when you sing.’

  ‘Yes.’ She caught her breath. ‘That’s true. That’s when I feel . . . that anything is possible.’

  ‘Do you think it would be possible to . . . ’

  To give you a hug right now? She had never really wanted to comfort Freddie, she felt he had all the comfort he needed from his mother and eight sisters. But Tommy . . .

  ‘. . . possible to maybe listen to a couple of my songs?’

  ‘Yes!’ she said. ‘I’d like that a lot.’

  • • •

  Lace could hear them singing in the living room, then cracking up and singing again.

  So, okay, the living room was shabby, but it had the best acoustics in the house. She was starting to sort of like it, if only a little. Music—and laughter, too—were making it a space she enjoyed passing through to answer the door or run to the mailbox.

  You’re the CEO of my true affections

  You’re my heart’s top-dollar VP

  But listen to me, honey,

  I’m tellin’ you good

  You’re not the boss of me . . .

  In the eight years she’d been best friends with Beth, she had never seen her so happy. Transitioning from Manhattan to a farm in North Carolina could be a serious adjustment for most people, but Beth seemed to belong here. She had seamlessly picked up the lessons with Jack and cleaned out the garden with Willie and started on the junk room. Best of all, with the junk-room project, she seemed to know what could go and what truly had to stay.

  Now Tommy doing the vocals.

  What can I say

  That hasn’t been said

  About livin’ alone

  With hungry thoughts in my head

  Dreamin’ of you walkin’

  In through my door

  A stranger I’d never seen before

  Yes, you were the one in my dreams, all right

  Now here you are in my song tonight.

  What did I do to deserve you?

  I’d never been the man I could be

  Till you walked into my life . . . [Word garbled, Tommy and Beth laughing]

  An’ started dreamin’ with me . . .

  She went to the living room and stood in the doorway, listening. Beth’s back was to her, but she could see Tommy and the way he raised one eyebrow as he sang, as if he had questions that weren’t yet answered and maybe never would be.

  • • •

  He was beat as he came in from a long day and checking his cattle. Somebody else’s cow had given him a kick in the groin this morning; he was hobbling like an old guy. And two dog poisonings in the neighborhood in four days. He hated this, he especially hated this.

  Charley licked his hand; he gave her a head scratch.

  ‘Jack has a wonderful surprise for you.’ Lace handed him his favorite all-seas
on libation—sweet tea with lemon.

  ‘I need a surprise,’ he said.

  ‘You’ll like it to th’ moon, Dad! It will be a big huge jelly-belly monster surprise!’

  ‘Come here, buddy.’ He sat in his chair by the fire and opened his arms. He wanted to hold his boy and tease him and make him laugh, he wanted the chunk of him close; the little guy would be in college before they knew it.

  ‘To do th’ su’prise, I have to see your watch, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’ He took off the watch Lace gave him when he cycled from UGA to State.

  Jack studied the watch face for a long moment, then threw back his head and shouted. ‘Seventeen minutes till seven!’

  ‘What? No way do you know how to tell time. But it’s seventeen minutes till seven on th’ dot. How did you do that?’

  Jack looked again at the watch, took his time, moving his lips.

  ‘Sixteen minutes till seven!’ he yelled.

  ‘We’ve been working hard on this the last few days,’ said Lace. ‘He’s amazingly fast, and great at keeping a secret.’

  ‘See, Dad. Th’ little hand’s at th’ seven an’ th’ big hand’s at th’ nine. Fifteen minutes til seven!’

  ‘Good job!’ He pulled Jack close. ‘Proud of you. This is big. Why don’t I take you fishin’ Saturday? Deal?’

  ‘I’ll catch a whole bejoobie of fishes. Can Charley go?’

  ‘Charley can go.’

  ‘What if it’s a snake out there?’

  ‘There will always be a snake out there. Wear your boots and keep an eye on Charley.’

  So here was something his dad and Cynthia or Doc and Olivia could give Jack for his Name Day; they’d all been asking. A watch! He was oddly moved.

  ‘You know what?’ said Dooley.

  ‘What?’ said Jack.

  ‘I love you big.’

  ‘I love you bigger, bigger, booger, booger!’ More laughing. General hilarity.

  ‘You’re the best,’ Dooley said to Lace. He needed her, the feel of her skin, a Tylenol, something. She came and stooped to him and kissed him. ‘Supper in ten minutes.’

  What did I do to deserve you?