Unexpectedly Home

by Emma Woods

  We came to the driveway to Bumblebee House, and I smiled at the friendly wrought iron bee who greeted us when we came home every day. It was funny to think of all the changes that had come about since we’d arrived here in Birch Springs and moved into Gate House. I was beginning to feel like a different person, and Gus certainly had come out of his shell quite a bit. Was this burst of independence one more way he was maturing? And was letting him go one more way that I was?

  When we got home, Gus took off his coat and shoes and flopped on the couch. Well, there’s no time like the present, I thought.

  “Okay, Gus, come into the kitchen and let’s get some laundry going before we head up to the big house.”

  “But I just got home from work! I need time to relax,” he protested.

  I put my hands on my hips. “I just got home from work, too, you know. And every day I come in and get some chores done before we go up for supper. Your laundry basket is overflowing. Go get it, and I’ll show you how to do your laundry.”

  My brother pushed to his feet with a groan and went off in search of his laundry basket. I resisted the urge to laugh out loud. He might want to become more independent, but we definitely had a long road ahead of us before Gus was actually ready. I didn’t need to worry about his abandoning me any time soon.

  That night, I was surprised to look up and see Matt striding through the dining room door just as we were about to sit down to eat. As Rosemarie’s brother, he came to supper at Bumblebee House from time to time. Tonight, Emily and Nate were absent and Jill was stuck at work late, so it was a smaller crowd than usual. There was plenty of room at the table for Matt, even though he dwarfed us all.

  “Have you decided on a decorating scheme for the Beanery yet?” Rosa asked him as we were passing dishes around.

  “Not yet. I know I want to redecorate; I just can’t find the time to get a plan underway.” Matt shrugged.

  “You should ask Corinne for help,” my aunt suggested and my head snapped up. What was Rosa doing? “She has wonderful taste.”

  My eyes found Matt’s, and he smiled at me in a knowing way. I blushed and then got angry with myself for doing so. What was he going to think if I kept lighting up every time I was around him? Why couldn’t my face stay cool and calm?

  “I’d really appreciate the help,” he wheedled. “Even just giving me some ideas would be great. I don’t spend a lot of time keeping up with what colors are ‘in’ and which are ‘out.’”

  That drew a laugh from all around the table. The idea of big, rugged Matt reading decorating magazines and worrying about trendy colors was just too hard to imagine.

  “Come on, Corinne, tell him you’ll help,” Gus urged.

  I glared at my brother and grudgingly said, “Sure, I can lend a hand with that.”

  “I like the color scheme the way it is,” piped up little Mae. “Why do you have to redecorate at all? Are you trying to get more high school girls to come in? Or do you have so much money you’re dying to throw it away?” She grinned at him, clearly teasing.

  Matt’s eyes sparkled and he gave some witty response.

  But I wasn’t listening. My stomach had given a horrible lurch when I’d seen the look passing between the two of them. What if Mae had feelings for Matt? She was adorable, tiny, and feisty. Mae was the sort of girl that I imagined men everywhere liked. Next to her, I was enormous and dull. What if Matt compared us and found me lacking and didn’t ask me out again?

  That thought nearly made me jump out of my seat with surprise. Where had it come from? I didn’t actually want this Goliath to ask me to go out with him again, did I?

  And I spent the rest of the meal trying to avoid thinking about that very question.

  11

  Since we weren’t actually spending the whole night with junior high kids, neither Gus nor I packed overnight bags. He did think we should wear our pajamas, but I flatly refused. I had no desire for anyone to see me in something so unflattering. Gus was allowed to wear a pair of athletic pants and a sweatshirt, but that was as far as I could bend.

  We arrived at the Beanery at nine, an hour before their usual closing time. Matt was working with Sophie behind the counter and they had their hands full with a constant stream of customers. I found it rather surprising that so many people were here purchasing caffeinated drinks at this hour of the evening.

  “You can start by opening up all the hot chocolate stuff I got,” Matt called to us over the counter. “It’s in my office.”

  Gus led the way back, and he and I got to work unwrapping peppermint sticks, pouring different kinds of marshmallows into bowls, and taking the protective plastic off jars of sprinkles. My brother kept licking his lips as he examined all the hot chocolate accoutrements.

  “Are you going to have a cup of cocoa, Gus?” I asked him.

  He nodded, eyes shining. “I want whipped cream and marshmallows and peppermint.”

  “You’re going to want a big drink of water after that, or else you’ll need an appointment with the dentist tomorrow. I don’t see any whipped cream here. Are you sure there’s going to be some?” I pointed out.

  But that didn’t faze my brother. “Matt won’t forget the whipped cream,” he told me with all confidence.

  We loaded everything onto a cart and wheeled it up to the front. Next, we made popcorn in the microwave, moved tables and chairs, swept the floor, and set up a movie projector and hung a sheet on the wall to serve as a screen. By ten o’clock, Sophie waved good-bye to us and Matt shooed the rest of the crowd out of the shop.

  “You two have done a great job,” he praised us. “Listen, I have some end-of-the-night stuff I have to do before the kids get here. Do you mind being left up here alone?”

  Gus reassured him, “We’ll be fine. We have to finish getting the hot chocolate ready.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I have a couple of tins of powdered mix behind the counter. I was thinking you could fill the hot water carafe, too.” Matt bustled around getting everything we might need. “I also have a box of decorations the girl from church brought by. I don’t know how much you can do with it, but you can give it a shot if you want.”

  We promised him we’d take care of everything, and he hurried off to the back office with a printout from the cash register and the money drawer.

  I was surprised and impressed when Gus got right to work behind the counter wiping everything down. He seemed so confident as he worked that I got a little choked up. After all we’d been through, it was such an answer to my prayers that Gus was working in a job where he was treated so well.

  Not wanting to make a scene, I went in search of the box of decorations. I pawed through it and was satisfied with what I found. Apparently there was a “follow the yellow brick road” theme for the evening. That made sense, since this was a traveling slumber party. With that in mind, I got to work.

  I must admit that I love decorating. There’s something deep inside me that enjoys making things pretty. For a lot of years, I struggled to wonder if that was somehow sinful. Was I just being prideful when I put together a beautiful outfit? Was I being competitive when I enjoyed making my house charming? And, sure, sometimes my motives left something to be desired. But I’d learned along the way that God himself was a creator, and part of my love of making things beautiful echoed my Father’s love of beautiful things. After all, he made flowers and sunsets, right?

  So, by the time Matt emerged from the back room, I’d transformed the front of the store. With Gus’s help, we’d strung a rainbow of crepe paper out from the coffee bar back towards the door. We’d taped yellow plastic tablecloths to the floor and cut them to resemble a winding yellow path. I’d twisted brown paper to resemble the trunks and branches of trees and put them across one wall. Then, I’d used green tissue paper to make puffballs, which I hung from the ceiling around the branches, making them look like giant trees.

  “Whoa,” the coffee shop owner said.

  I looked around with a critical eye. If I�
�d had more time, I could have done a lot more, but I was pleased with my work. “What do you think?” I couldn’t help asking, needing his approval more than I liked to admit.

  “This is amazing. How did you pull this off in an hour?” Matt asked, genuinely impressed.

  My heart swelled, and I grinned at him. “I’ve actually done most of these things at other places. It helps when you’ve done them all before.”

  “I just got a call from Gwen, the youth pastor. The kids will be here before long.”

  “Do we have an agenda for the evening, or are we just winging it?” I wondered.

  “We’re going to put the movie on the projector and show it on the screen. Gwen has a big bunch of board games, and the kids can choose one and scatter if they want. We have lots of booths, so this is a great place for that. They can eat popcorn and drink hot chocolate. Should be fun.” Matt crossed his burly arms and leaned toward me, bumping his elbow against mine, “Come on, this is far more fun than anything else you might have done.”

  He had me there. I was enjoying myself tremendously, and all we’d done was set up for the kids. But I was a bit too stubborn to give in that easily.

  “You forget that the kids aren’t here yet. That could change everything,” I pointed out.

  He guffawed and ran a hand over the chestnut-colored lock of hair that had slipped down his forehead.

  Less than five minutes later, a veritable wave of young teens surged through the door. I counted almost two dozen kids and seven adults. They were a laughing, chattering, hooting mass of pimples and hormones and awkwardness. Matt manned the popcorn station, making sure the kids didn’t take more than one bag at a time. I thought it would be wise to keep an eye on the hot chocolate cart and quickly took over the pouring of hot water. I also discouraged the kids from putting too much of any one ingredient into their drinks.

  Eventually, they settled down. Most of the kids flopped in front of the movie, lying on the floor on the pillows and sleeping bags they’d brought along. A few kids chose board games and spread out. I noticed that the ones sitting in booths playing games bore the distinct look of the less popular, while the sillier, giggling bunch by the projector were clearly cool.

  About that time, a girl came out of the ladies’ room with a splotchy face and the signs of someone who had been crying. I took in her chubby cheeks and unfortunate haircut. Her shirt was the wrong size and had a big stain on it. Her jeans were too tight. Instantly, my heart went out to her. This was exactly what I’d looked like at her age. And I’d certainly cried my share of tears in that time, too.

  She hovered, unsure of what to do, until I waved her over to the hot chocolate cart. I detected a small twinkle in her eye at being singled out, and she shuffled in my direction.

  “Hi, I’m Corinne. Would you like some hot chocolate?”

  She smiled up at me, and I noticed her bad skin and mouth full of braces with compassion. “I love hot chocolate,” she admitted.

  I smiled gently in return. “What’s your name?”

  “Kim,” she said. “Can I have some marshmallows?”

  “Of course. Help yourself.”

  Kim was then happily occupied for the next minute as she made her decisions and completed her drink. Then she turned and looked around the room, and I watched her shoulders droop. There was such a look of longing on her face as she eyed the group lounging in front of the movie screen.

  “Say, I was just going to sit over there and drink my hot chocolate,” I improvised. “Do you want to come with me?”

  Her head bobbed so hard, I was afraid cocoa would slosh out of her cup. It took me a minute to put together my own cup, but soon I was leading the way over to a quieter part of the shop. We slid into the booth across from each other. Kim smiled at me a little nervously and then sipped from her mug.

  “Is it good?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Although, I’m not sure coconut marshmallows and peppermint really go together,” she laughed.

  “I’ll be sure to remember that,” I smiled in return. “Are you having fun tonight?” I asked gently.

  Kim’s smile slipped and she looked down, embarrassed. “The bowling alley was fun. I got to bowl with Gwen. She’s the youth pastor. But we were at the Davises’ for supper and that wasn’t so good.”

  “What happened?” I pressed.

  Tears welled in her eyes. “We had to sit at certain tables. There were place cards with our names on them. I think they wanted us to get to know each other and not just sit with our friends.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “Well, I was seated next to the boy I like,” her voice dropped to a whisper. “But he ignored me the whole time, until I spilled Coke on myself. Then he laughed really hard.”

  My heart ached for Kim. Middle school was such a hard time of life. I reached my hand over the table and patted hers.

  “Do you want to hear about my most embarrassing moment?” I asked her.

  She nodded, a small smile on her lips even as her tears spilled over.

  “Well, when I was twelve, I decided I wanted a new haircut. I begged my mom to let me get it done. I even found exactly what I wanted in a magazine. My mom took me to the place where she got her hair done. The hairdresser was about seventy years old. My hair looked terrible when it was finished! It wasn’t at all like the picture. And when I got up to go to school the next morning, it was sticking up all over the place. I was so embarrassed.”

  Kim giggled, then covered her mouth with her hand. “Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh at you.”

  I smiled at her. “It’s okay. It was so humiliating at the time, but now that a lot of years have passed, it’s not embarrassing any more. Everyone has moments like that. Even the popular kids.”

  Kim sighed and looked over at the group again, yearning filling her face. “I just wish I could be like them.”

  I leaned forward, praying she could hear my words. “You know, their lives aren’t perfect either. In fact, some of them probably wish they were someone else, too.”

  “Really?” Kim’s brown eyes grew wide.

  “Definitely. I’ve known a lot of people in my life. Often times, the popular kids aren’t the ones who make good friends. Some popular people are nice, of course, but I’ve known a lot who aren’t at all kind. When I was in school, all my friends were very unpopular, but they were so kind and loyal that I didn’t care.”

  The young girl looked over to the group playing board games. “Greta’s over there playing Life. I bet she’d let me play. She’s really nice to everyone.”

  I grinned. “That sounds like the kind of girl I’d want for a friend.”

  “Do you mind if I go and play with them?” Kim asked, her eyes earnestly concerned about me.

  “Of course not. Have fun!” I watched her slide from the booth and escort her remaining hot chocolate to the board game table, my heart hopeful.

  Suddenly, a very large man in a Birch Springs Beanery t-shirt slid into the booth, taking her place. “How’s it going, Corinne?” Matt asked.

  “It’s good,” I replied and sipped from my mug. “Have you seen Gus lately?”

  “He’s playing Connect Four over there,” Matt said and pointed over my shoulder.

  I glanced back in time to see Gus slip a red disk into the holder and crow, “Connect Four!”

  “I heard what you said to Kim,” Matt said conspiratorially.

  I shrugged, rather pleased that he’d bothered to listen. “I see a lot of myself at that age in her.”

  “Junior high is a rough age,” Matt sighed.

  “I can’t picture you as a twelve-year-old,” I teased. “It must be the beard. What were you like?”

  “Scrawny,” he chuckled. “And I thought that nothing was funnier than farts.”

  “Ah, men. It’s a wonder that we can look at you and swoon,” I quipped.

  All joking left his face suddenly. Matt leaned forward and said in a low voice, “I wouldn’t mind if you swooned when you looked a
t me.”

  My eyes widened and my heart skipped a beat. Between his lovely gray eyes and all that intense goodness, he was surprisingly attractive. In fact, when you looked past the tattoos and beard, Matt Donovan was actually an appealing guy. A very appealing guy.

  12

  Once the movie was over, the kids were asked to lend a hand in cleaning up before heading off to the next stop on their sleepover tour. Then it took Matt, Gus, and me another hour to get the restaurant ready for the next morning. At home, Gus and I didn’t talk much as we readied for bed and finally went to sleep.

  I didn’t crawl out of bed until almost ten the next morning and, when I pressed an ear to my brother’s door, it was clear that he was still fast asleep. I took a long shower, dried and styled my hair, got dressed in jeggings and a tunic, put on the kettle for tea, and had turkey bacon sizzling in the pan before Gus emerged from his room, hair standing up.

  “Morning,” I chirped.

  “Morning.” Gus shuffled to the bathroom.

  We enjoyed a quiet breakfast. Gus had perked up some and regaled me with stories about the fun he’d had the previous night. Apparently, he’d played almost a dozen games of Connect Four and won his fair share of them. I was delighted that he’d not only found a game he could play successfully, but also played with several kids and adults who treated him as an equal.

  Gus was none too happy when I set him to dish duty. I had to remind him that this was at his request to learn how to care for himself. Even then, he slouched over to the sink to wash the two plates, two cups, two forks, and one pan.

  My phone rang, and I reached for it. The display announced that it was Emily.

  “Have you recovered from last night?” she asked with a laugh in her voice.

  “I think so. It was actually a lot of fun,” I replied.

  “I’m glad! The Beanery looks great. Were you working late into the night?”

  I gave her a few of the details of our evening, all the while wondering why it was that she was calling. Beautiful, willowy Emily was always friendly to me and a very kind boss to Gus, but we’d never talked much.