Joy in the Journey

by Diane Greenwood Muir

  "You're doing that pragmatism thing again."

  Sal stuck her head in the kitchen. "Are you coming out anytime soon? For God’s sake, Polly, people are here. It's a party. I can’t believe that you think it’s okay to hide in here with your husband. Some friend you are." She was still acting snotty and snide.

  Polly pushed Henry. "You go. I'm done."

  He frowned. "With what?"

  "Putting up with it."

  "Really? Now?"

  "Uh huh." She looked at Sal. "You. Stay. Henry's leaving. I need to speak with you."

  "Oh, goodie," Sal said, sneering at her. "Am I in trouble?"

  Henry lifted his eyebrows and scooted past her.

  "What in the world is up with you?" Polly asked. "What have I done to make you so snippy and pissy with me?"

  "I’m not acting like that."

  "Uh huh. Let’s start with you telling me whose idea it was to get Tab to invite me to coffee yesterday."

  Sal furrowed her brow. "I don't know what you mean."

  "Like hell you don't. That little trick had Sal Kahane written all over it. Better yet," Polly snapped, "it had Lila Kahane written all over it. If you have a problem with me, you talk to me straight out. Don't you set up our friends to do an intervention."

  "We're worried about you."

  "No they aren’t. You made that whole thing up to get me in a place where you could swipe at me. You’re the one who talked them into being worried about me." Polly made air quotes around worried. "Then tonight you got snippy about Cassidy. You know full well that I have exactly five months to get that little girl socialized and semi-normal before she goes to Kindergarten. She didn't have good parents like you and Mark to start her life out in a healthy way. She had hell. So why exactly is it such a problem for you that I choose to keep her close so she feels safe and loved?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about. This is ridiculous." Sal spun and started out of the kitchen.

  Polly rushed over, grabbed her arm and stopped her. "Why are you so mad at me?"

  "I'm not mad at you. We're just worried about you. You aren't the same Polly that we've known for the last few years."

  "I hope not. My life is different."

  "I haven't changed." Sal's eyes flashed.

  "Yeah, Sal, you have. You and Mark don't go out all the time. When's the last time you had sex in the back yard?"

  "It's been too cold."

  Polly scowled. "Whatever. When's the last time you had crazy sex?"

  "I don't know."

  "Because the boys are in your life. You think of them first. It won't always be that way, but it's what you have right now. When's the last time you and Mark just picked up and went out to dinner without having a plan in place?"

  "We can't."

  "I know," Polly said. "None of us can. I'm the same Polly, I just have responsibilities that require I react to the world differently. They won't always be there. My responsibilities change all the time; but wow, my friends should be the people who understand that. I can't believe you set those other three up to question whether I can be their friend and live my life at the same time. That was so totally unfair."

  "You haven't had time for any of us. That's what’s not fair."

  "There it is," Polly said. "I haven't had time. What in the world, Sal? When was the last time you and the boys came to my house?"

  "You haven't invited us."

  "Oh, come on. You know better than that. The thing is, I wasn't going to say a word to you about what happened yesterday. I was just going to let the whole thing go. And then tonight, you got snotty about Cassidy." She breathed out loud. "At a party at Joss's house. Why would you do that to me? I hadn't even told Henry about it yet, but you broke my damned heart and all I could do was hold onto him for a minute in the kitchen. Then you came out and continued to be a snot. If I want to hide with my husband while he tells me that I'm okay, I get to do that without you shaming me into doing something different."

  Tears bubbled out of Sal's eyes. "I needed you and you weren't there."

  "What do you mean? When wasn't I there?"

  "Last Monday. I really needed you and you were busy with that whole dead body thing and I knew you had a million things going on. Marnie told Mark about how busy everybody has been. Her daughter was complaining because she never saw Heath. I just couldn't bother you."

  "What happened?" Polly pulled Sal deeper into the kitchen and then out onto Joss’s back porch. "Talk to me."

  "I had a miscarriage."

  Polly’s stomach dropped and she sagged against the washing machine. "You had a what? I didn't even know you were trying."

  "We weren't. I'm not on the pill and we know we want more children, so we don't use any protection. It just happened. I wasn't very far along, but still. I needed you and didn't feel like I could reach out because you're always so busy."

  "I am never too busy for you, Sal. My lord, especially for something like that. I would have moved heaven and earth to be there if I'd known. I am so sorry, honey." Polly had to reach up to pull Sal's head to her, but she managed, and then Sal was sobbing into her shoulder. "Did you tell anyone?"

  "Just Mark. Well, he told his mom and she offered to come down, but she's busy with the dance studio and it's a long drive for her. I needed you."

  Joss came into the kitchen and peered at the two of them on the back porch. Polly gave her a quick shake of the head, still holding Sal close.

  Sal stood up straight and brushed at Polly's shoulder. "I messed up your sweater."

  "It'll wash. Honey, I am so, so sorry that you didn't feel as if you could reach out to me. Trust me when I tell you that there is nowhere I would rather be than with you when things are falling apart. I will always make it work."

  "See, that's the thing. You always make it work and sometimes I feel guilty that I ask you to work that hard for me."

  "You're my friend," Polly said. "I love you. Why wouldn't I?"

  "Because I don't deserve it."

  Polly chuckled. "That might be true."

  "What's up with my makeup?" Sal asked, seeing Joss standing there.

  "Truth or a lie?"

  "Oh, damn, that bad?" She shook her head and said to Joss, "I'm fine. I'm a bitch and a terrible friend, but I'm fine. Is there a bathroom I can sneak into to fix this face?"

  "What's going on?" Joss asked. "Do I want to know?"

  Sal looked at Polly, then at Joss. "I need to apologize to you and Sylvie and Tab. But not tonight. I'll tell you all later this week. That thing I did to Polly yesterday?"

  "We did," Joss said.

  "Well, it's my fault, but I need to put my party face back on. Mark's probably wondering what happened to me."

  "This way," Joss said. "Do you need me to find your purse?"

  Polly pushed past her. "I'll get it."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  "As you can imagine, we got really busy last week after that man’s body was found at the new salon," Mina said when Polly called Monday morning about making appointments.

  "I’m not surprised. Are you still busy this week?" She should have known better than to expect them to have time for her.

  "For a couple of manicures? We have time."

  "What if I wanted you to put color in my hair?"

  "I'd love to. Are you thinking highlights or something wild?"

  Polly lowered her voice, not that anyone was around to hear her. "Maybe something wild."

  "Red," Mina said.

  "And purple."

  "No way. We get to go crazy with you?"

  Polly chuckled. "Let's not get too crazy, but yeah. Summer is coming and I'm feeling sassy." Then she laughed again. "That, by the way, is the very last thing I want to hear anyone say about me after I turn sixty. I heard someone make a comment about an elderly woman at church yesterday and they called her sassy because she gets out and does stuff."

  "Stuff that for anyone else would be normal?"

  "And probably still is for her. Go
od heavens, we’re uncomfortable when women get grey hair and still want to live their normal, wonderful lives. Enough, I say."

  "You aren't even forty yet," Mina said. "I think you have a few years."

  "I'm just getting everyone on board now so that I don't have to fight this fight with them when I'm old and worn out."

  Mina laughed at her. "I can't imagine anyone wanting to pick a fight with you. Let's set you up for Wednesday morning for the hair. Will you bring Cassidy?"

  "No, I have help at home this week."

  "Nonni will miss her, but I understand. That's a long time for anyone to sit still. We'll see you tomorrow with your daughter and then again Wednesday morning. Are you telling your family about the new color?"

  "Not beforehand."

  "Got it. Mum's the word. See ya, Ms. Giller."

  "Mina, you know better."

  "It's so hard for me to remember. Thanks, Polly."

  Polly put her phone down on the desk and smiled. She did it. She really did it. And no, she wasn't telling anyone. If it didn't work out and all she got were some highlights, they'd still be impressed.

  Most everyone from Sunday night's pizza group had been at Nate’s birthday party and decided that since it was spring break and they were already together, they'd wait one more week. It was probably just as well. Sal wouldn't want to talk about her miscarriage with everyone, though other than Polly, they were the closest friends she had. When she was ready, she'd talk about it. And if she never was, no one else needed to know a thing.

  Polly couldn't imagine what Sal had gone through last week. Mark was a wonderfully supportive husband and he would have set aside his own ache to care for her. She knew better than to feel guilty. Had she known, there was no question that she'd have been with Sal.

  Sal's ridiculous attacks on Polly were also understandable. She’d never learned how to address her pain. They'd had some incredible arguments when they lived together during college. Some simply revolved around whenever one or the other was menstruating, others came after Sal had been emotionally brutalized by her mother or set aside by a boy. She couldn't verbalize what was happening, so she found other ways to get attention from Polly. It generally began with a small irritation, but before long, Sal had blown it into an immense fight, leaving Polly in shock before she realized what had happened. There was often a confrontation like the one Saturday evening, but back then, it took longer for Sal to be ready to listen. At least that had changed over the years. There was a lot of passion in that gorgeous body and sometimes it was explosive.

  After church yesterday, everyone except Rebecca was ready to relax and play at home. She was always ready to spend time with her friends. Cilla had family duties at her grandparent's house and Kayla was busy with Stephanie and Skylar, so she'd been stuck — her words — in the house with the boring people. She'd ended up playing in Cassidy's room with her sister while the boys had the run of the basement tunnel. The weather just hadn't been good enough to play outside.

  Polly and Henry had moved from the sofas in the kitchen to the sofas in the living room to their bedroom for a nap and back to the living room. After dinner they ended up back in their room together with the door wide open for dogs, kids, cats, and whatever else came along. Henry watched television; Polly read, and it had been a wonderfully calm day with no interruptions.

  She'd finally remembered to ask Henry if he knew Agnes Hill. He didn't, and made a quick call to his mother to see if she knew her. Marie hadn't met her either, surprising both of them. He assumed his parents knew everyone in town. Agnes didn't go to the Methodist Church and she'd moved into town later in life, so she hadn't ever been active in any of the same groups that Marie was involved with. Bill Sturtz remembered the buffet that she'd owned in Boone, but otherwise, he had no more information.

  That actually delighted Polly. She had the opportunity to get to know someone whose only exposure to Polly Giller was Sycamore House and all that had happened since she arrived in town.

  She picked up her phone and called before she could talk herself out of it.

  "This is Agnes Hill," the woman said. "May I help you?"

  "Hi, Mrs. Hill, this is Polly Giller."

  "Ms. Giller, how are you! Don't tell me you found my ghost hovering around broken-down hedges and think you need to return it to me. If so, I've been doing just fine without it. Tell it to move on without me. Then, maybe, I'll find immortality."

  "What?" Polly asked with a laugh.

  "My ghost. I named it Aggie, just in case it needed its own personality. I haven't seen it for a few days, so I thought maybe it got lost when you and your little girl drove me around town. I usually move slow enough for it to keep up."

  "I haven't seen Aggie anywhere," Polly said, "but I've been busy. If it shows up, do you really want me to send it on its way?"

  "No," the woman said, dejected. "It would miss me and I'd probably miss it too. Who knows how much of my personality is tied up in the silly thing. Send it home."

  Polly laughed. "Are you busy this morning?"

  "Of course I am. There isn't a single hour of the day that I'm not busy."

  "I see, then I'll let you get back to whatever it is that you're doing. I apologize for interrupting you."

  A few moments passed, enough that Polly wondered if Agnes had hung up. She looked at her phone and saw that they were still connected. "Did I lose you?"

  "What? Who is this? Why are you bothering me when I'm doing my level best to be busy?"

  She didn't know Agnes well enough to know whether she should be concerned about Alzheimer's or something else, and Polly frowned. "Tell me you're kidding."

  "What? You think I'm living in my own home with my own ghost and don't have full mental capacity?"

  "I'm not sure?"

  Agnes cackled. "Oh, you're going to be a fun one, I can tell that right now. In answer to your query, I have a few free moments this morning. I've gotten myself out of bed with relatively few moans and groans, traipsed to the bathroom, the kitchen, and collapsed in a dining room chair on the way to the living room where I find that I'm sprawled out on my recliner. I should probably sit like a lady. Mother always scolded me if I sat down and spread my legs. A hell of a lot of good that did me. I met my husband after I'd learned to sit like a lady. Figures, doesn't it?"

  "Ahhhh," Polly laughed so hard she snorted. "I want you to meet my neighbor, Andrea. The two of you would have a brilliant time together, but this morning she's busy, so you'd just be stuck with me. I'd love to take you up to Sweet Beans for coffee."

  "And your little girl?"

  "You want me to bring Cassidy along?"

  "Unless you have another little girl, that's the one."

  "Well, I do have another daughter, but she's in high school."

  "Oh, the hell-years. Or so I've heard. You know, since I never had any children of my own. Well, I guess since I didn't, it isn't fair of me to judge. Your daughter might be a perfectly lovely young lady. Is she?"

  "Most of the time. She's gotten better with age."

  "Don't we all. I used to be a foul-mouthed, fool of a woman. I'm much less a fool, though the foul mouth hasn't really changed."

  "In fact, Rebecca and her mother used to live down the street from you. After her mother died, Henry and I adopted her."

  "Oh, I know that story. I never met them, but the woman seemed like a very nice person. Her daughter was awfully shy. I tried to speak with her a couple of times. Is she still shy?"

  "Not at all."

  "Uh oh. You did that to her, didn't you. Are you sorry?"

  "No," Polly said, still laughing. "I'm kind of proud of the young woman she's become."

  "That's horse crap speak for 'she's doing what she wants and I couldn't stop her if I wanted.' Am I right?"

  "She cleans a lot of bathrooms."

  "What?" Agnes demanded. "Bathrooms? Do you people operate a prison facility there or something?"

  "Not quite that bad, but sass and mouthy rebellious ch
ildren require creative punishments."

  "When you're bad, who makes you clean bathrooms?"

  "My life makes me clean bathrooms," Polly said with a sigh.

  "How many commodes are there in that monstrosity you call a home?"

  "Seven."

  "Seven bathrooms? Well, la-di-dah, aren't you the fancy folk."

  "I suppose."

  "I went too far, didn't I. You don't know me well enough to tell me to shut my mouth. The thing is, Ms. Giller? I don't have enough people to talk to and it seems that once I begin, I have a difficult time reining it in."

  "Please call me Polly."

  "We'll see. What time would you like to meet me at the coffee shop?"

  "Can Cassidy and I pick you up?"

  "That's a great idea. Maybe Aggie has been stuck in your big ole vehicle and didn't know how to get out. You can bring her home and I'll try to hook up with her before you whisk me off on another adventure."

  "Speaking of adventures. I'd love to take you anywhere that you need to go."

  "Today or any day?"

  "Both," Polly said.

  "Because I was thinking that I'd like to travel to Saskatchewan early next week for a day or two. Would you be up for the road trip?"

  "Let me check my calendar."

  "Good girl. I will see you in a bit."

  Polly put the phone down and stretched. This woman was hard work, but she was as entertaining as they came. And she wanted to spend time with Cassidy. That was unexpected. How many women her age who had never been around small children asked for that?

  She wandered out into the hallway and listened for the sounds of her family. There were running feet on the floor above her and sounds in the foyer. Rebecca was still in bed, as she would be every day this week. Why not? It was a holiday.

  Polly opened the door to the foyer and drooped at the sound of Cassidy's crying. She'd hoped for a good day today. Yesterday had been wonderful, but then Cassidy responded well to having her entire family around. Cat was trying to cajole the little girl when Polly came into the main part of the foyer.

  "What's up?" Polly asked.

  "I don't know. She got mad and started throwing things."