"It’s a keeper," her friend remarked, handing the heart back to her. "Just like Dave is."
"I know. I just wish I knew what was going on in his head..."
"You know, Theresa could be right. David might just be worrying about retiring in these economic times."
"It’s possible. Dave has always fretted about expenses. His grandfather drilled fiscal responsibility into his head since he was just a kid. ‘Waste not, want not,’ and all those platitudes. Dave’s always worried that our savings might not be enough." She stopped and suddenly smiled. "I’ll bet he is just afraid our traveling might jeopardize our future needs."
"Most likely," Lila agreed.
"Wow," Sylvia mused. "Now, I wish I hadn’t already retired. If I’d kept working, I could have started my own savings account and surprised Dave with the extra funds for some fun trips. That might have eased his mind a little bit about the cost of traveling. Poor Dave, he always frets about rainy days."
"Why don’t you look for another job? You’re still young enough to find a position. You probably wouldn’t even need to work full-time."
Sylvia clapped her hands in delight.
"Lila, I could kiss you! That might be the perfect solution. Dave can hardly object about spending the money for a vacation if I earn it myself.”
Chapter Six
Sylvia scowled at the newspaper’s Help Wanted section spread across her kitchen table as if her disapproval might change the ads on the pages. There had to be something that a woman with her education and career experience could do on a temporary basis.
For the last week, she’d combed the ads every night, looking for a position. Every morning, she called to inquire on the listings that looked the most promising. So far, nothing had panned out. It wasn’t like she was looking for some high-paid executive position; she was perfectly willing to do manual labor or fast food work. But even those positions were full time. The few temporary jobs she’d heard about required a lot more computer skills than she possessed, or else they were further away than she wanted to travel. Part of the problem was the time of year. Kids on summer break had snapped up most of the local part-time jobs. Several places she’d called had asked her to call back in the fall, when the students went back to school.
She sighed and folded up the paper. She’d look again tomorrow. Something was bound to come up. If not, she might have to check with a temp agency. Hopefully, they handled clients who weren’t computer savvy.
Now, it was time to get supper ready. She wanted to have it ready to put on the table when Dave got home, so she could get to The Stitching Post on time. Just as she rose from her chair, the phone rang. A glance at the caller ID told her it was Dave, calling from his office.
"Hi, honey. I wanted to call and let you know I’m going to be late coming home tonight."
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, just some reports to finish," he told her. "But I know it’s your quilting night, so I didn’t want you to wait for me. Go ahead without me. I’ll grab a bite on the way home."
"Okay. Maybe I’ll do the same. I lost track of time and was just starting to think about supper now."
"Did you get caught up in some soap?" Dave teased. "One General Restless Life to Turn?"
She laughed at his familiar joke. "Hardly. I was looking at the Help Wanted Ads and forgot about the time."
There was silence for a moment. "You’re looking for a job? You just retired."
"I know, honey. I’m just looking for something temporary. And part-time."
"Why?"
"For extras... like vacations."
"I see."
Sylvia winced at the icy disapproval the two words carried, but refused to let him deter her. "Since your main objection to us traveling seems to be the expense, I thought I could help out by earning the extra we need. That way, it wouldn’t take anything from our savings or affect the budget you set up with our pension checks. This would all be extra money, right?"
When he didn’t reply, she figured he was already processing the new idea and crunching the numbers.
"Thanks for letting me know about working late, honey. I’ll see you tonight after quilting."
****
Dave fought the urge to slam down the phone and set it down carefully instead. His team members might wonder why their normally unflappable manager was suddenly throwing a temper tantrum. That wouldn’t have been cool. His entire career he’d been Mr. Calm and Levelheaded. His management considered David Miller to be the go-to guy in any crisis. But right now, he felt neither calm nor levelheaded. In fact, his wife’s words made him want to throw something.
He couldn’t believe Sylvia was this determined to travel. He’d expected her to kick back and enjoy being retired. She would have the time to quilt, have coffee with friends, maybe even volunteer a little at that nursing home where she donated the lap quilts she and her friends made. He certainly hadn’t expected her to look for a job. What would he do if she found one? He could hardly dictate how she spent the money.
Blast it! How could he have forgotten the promises they’d made each other so long ago? When she used to talk about the places she wanted to visit someday, her face had lit up and her blue eyes had sparkled with excitement. He’d been so caught up in the magic of her fantasies that he’d forgotten his shame at being left a penniless orphan and his grandfather’s dire warnings about the frivolous expense and countless dangers inherent in travel.
Syl’s excitement had made him forget that he and his siblings would have been left at the mercy of the welfare system if his grandfather hadn’t stepped in. At least, he and Bill would have been; Muriel had already been a junior at Michigan State at the time. But she certainly wouldn’t have been able to graduate and go on for her master’s without grandfather’s support.
Grandfather had been good to them. Grandmother had died a year before his parents, so Grandfather had had to be both mother and father to Dave and his siblings. True, it had been Grandfather’s housekeeper who always saw to Dave’s needs, taking him to school, to doctor appointments, and to his sports practices. But Grandfather had been there at dinnertime, asking about his day, checking his report cards, and admonishing him for buying the latest record album.
"Popular artists change every week," he’d scolded. "It’s ridiculous to buy their records when you can listen to the same songs for free on the radio. Do you want to end up broke like your parents?"
It was odd, but Dave couldn’t remember his parents being poor. He remembered a rambling home in Grand Haven, lots of laughter, family skiing vacations in the winter and fishing with his dad in the summertime. He recalled noisy birthday parties, hours spent in the tree house his dad had built, and wonderful family dinners. Grandfather had later explained that those memories were nothing but illusions. His father’s careless spending had put the family in debt and left Dave and his siblings in dire straits.
When Dave had started dating Sylvia, it had been like finding sunlight at the end of a dark tunnel. He’d been attracted to her the moment he’d heard her laughter floating across the crowded cafeteria. But he’d been a senior, and the bubbly little sophomore hadn’t seemed interested. She’d never attended his games or any of the school dances. Of course, now he knew why, but he hadn’t had a clue back then. So he’d dated others and eventually had gone off to college.
When he’d heard that same laugh again, years later, in the bookstore at Grand Valley, he’d nearly fallen on his face hurrying over to say hello. They’d been together ever since. When she’d accepted his proposal and the modest engagement ring he’d been able to afford, it had been the happiest day of his life. Dave vowed to make a good life for her and whatever children they’d have.
He felt like he’d fulfilled his promise. He’d worked hard and had made a good living. They had a nice, mortgage-free home, the kids had good educations, and he and Sylvia had a healthy nest egg built up for a comfortable retirement. He hadn’t been as unbending as his grandfather about it ei
ther. The kids had had MP3 players, cell phones and clothes that were comparable to what their friends had. But they’d also been taught the value of a dollar. All of them had held down jobs during their high school and college years, and they’d learned to save part of every paycheck for a rainy day. After all, one never knew what was going to happen from one day to the next.
So why did Sylvia want to risk all that now? With so many travel programs available on video and TV, there was no need to visit those destinations. A person could sit in the safety and comfort of their home and enjoy a better tour than they’d probably get if they were there in person. After all, the media had access to places the average Dave and Sylvia Miller couldn’t go.
Why on earth couldn’t his wife realize that?
Chapter Seven
"I can’t tell you how thrilled Ethan’s summer school teacher is with his progress," Tee told the quilt group a couple of weeks later. "Just one hour with Sylvia, and fractions suddenly make sense to him."
Sylvia waved away the compliment. "Young boys quickly get the idea when you use their favorite pie to demonstrate the difference between one fourth and one eighth. I assure you, it works even faster with teenagers."
"You’re too modest, Sylvia. I don’t know what we would have done without you. Even with extra summer school classes, Ethan just wasn’t getting it. I was afraid I’d have to hold him back a year," Tee confided. "But now, he’s actually eager for school to start again."
"I’m glad I could help. It was fun, and it gave me something to do with my free time."
Ellen looked at her friend over the top of the magnifying glasses she wore whenever she quilted. "Still no luck on the job front?"
Sylvia shook her head and tacked a last bit of lace on Lynne’s scrapbook cover. "No, but the burger place on Wilson told me they would probably have a couple of openings when the kids go back to school."
"Good grief, Sylvia!" Tee exclaimed in horror. "Please tell me you are not seriously thinking about flipping burgers."
"Actually, I’m hoping to work the counter or the drive-thru. I’m not too proud to ask ‘do you want fries with that?’ if it means I can earn the money I want for my travel fund."
The younger woman’s beautifully-cut auburn hair fanned out around her then settled back perfectly in place when she shook her head. "You don’t need to push fries, Sylvia. You could easily be making four times as much an hour."
"I’m sure I could," Sylvia agreed then quirked an eyebrow. "But I don’t think Dave would like it if I started my own phone sex line."
Lila laughed so hard at the unexpected comment that she snorted. "Just be glad I wasn’t drinking tea, young lady," she scolded, "or you’d have been wearing it."
Tee laughed along with the others then grew serious again. "What I had in mind, Syl, is a bit less — um — adventurous than phone sex," she said. "You know, I’m head of the parent-teacher group at my kids’ school, and I’ve heard a lot of the parents — teachers, too — complain about the shortage of good tutors. If you wanted to offer your services, I could hook you up with as many students as you wanted with just a few phone calls."
"Are you kidding me?" Sylvia leaned forward eagerly. "You’d do that for me?
"Of course, I would, silly. Look how you helped me with Ethan. I can recommend you first hand. Just let me know what you’d charge, and I’ll start making calls."
"What a perfect idea!" Sylvia clapped her hands with delight. "I could tutor children after school and be finished before Dave came home for supper."
"Of course there is one condition," Tee said.
"What’s that?" Sylvia asked. "Do I need a background check or bonding or something?"
Her friend shrugged. "I’m not sure. Maybe. The school office can tell us for certain. My condition is that you have to agree to let me pay you for tutoring Ethan as your first student."
"Now you’re being silly. I was glad to do it. That’s what friends are for."
"Syl, honey, listen to me," the realtor instructed. "If you listed your house with me, and I sold it for you, you’d expect to pay me a commission, right?"
"Of course, I would."
"Well, this is the same thing. This is your business."
"No, I couldn’t—" Sylvia started to protest but stopped when Lila gave her a sharp nudge in the side.
"Don’t be stupid, my dear. This is perfect for you. Besides, where else are you going to find a job that won’t interfere with our quilt group?"
Chapter Eight
"I’m not going."
"What? Why not? This isn’t going to take a cent from our retirement account, Dave. It’s all extra money. Money we can spend to have fun or travel or do extra things! There’s more than enough to pay for our bus fares, hotel accommodations, and still have spending money on the island, too."
"It doesn’t matter how we pay for it. It’s still a waste of money. If you want to go, fine. Like you said, you earned it. But I won’t enjoy myself spending money on something so frivolous."
"Frivolous?" Sylvia hated the way her voice rose, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself from screeching. "How on earth can you call this trip frivolous? When you used to help the kids study, you would always point to places like this on the map and tell them all about it. About how important it was for a person to know their history, and—"
"And I was able to teach them all about American history without having to visit all those places, Sylvia. I didn’t need to go then, and I certainly don’t need to go now."
Knowing that arguing further was useless, she stuck the brochure for Mackinac Island into the pile she held. Leaning back in the chair, she took a deep breath to calm her racing heart, and let the August sunshine warm her face. What had happened to the travel plans they’d dreamed about? Why was Dave behaving like this?
He had his back to her, ignoring her as he carefully sanded the piece of wood in front of him. She watched how his muscles bunched then relaxed beneath his t-shirt as he worked. His shoulders were still as broad as they’d been back in his football days, she thought with a smile.
The smell of fresh-cut wood tickled her nose. Dave had always liked to work with wood, but this new project was far more ambitious than the small pieces he used to carve for relaxation. This time, he was making a set of chairs for the patio. He’d bought the wood the week before and had spent several days meticulously measuring and marking. The old adage warned to "measure twice and cut once," but Dave had probably measured every piece at least a dozen times before making the first cut. Now, they lay on the patio floor, waiting to be sanded then assembled.
Sylvia frowned. This new hobby of his was supposed to be relaxing not stressful. But her husband seemed tenser than ever as he worked on each piece. Of course, Dave never understood her passion for quilting, either. Maybe she should just be happy he’d found a new hobby to occupy his time. But he didn’t need to ignore her.
Irritated, she tapped the bundle of travel brochures against the arm of her lawn chair and pursed her lips, thinking. Dave had said he didn’t want to go on the trip and had almost dared her to go by herself. Time to put that idea to the test.
"I figured you wouldn’t want to go on the Mackinac Island trip," she said to his back. "So I called the travel agency this morning, and put a deposit down on a different excursion for myself. I’m all set for an extended trip to the South Pole,” she fibbed, waiting for his reaction. When none came, she continued. "I should get there just in time to see the migration of the penguins."
"Mmm-hmm."
"I’ll be downstairs getting out the luggage if you need me," she announced, heading back into the house. She detoured to her sewing room and tossed the brochures on the desk before going down to the basement.
The luggage set hid behind a pile of sports equipment like a naughty child avoiding an angry parent. The kids had used a piece or two for various school trips, but the family had never used the whole set since they’d never gone anywhere together. The last time Sylvia recalled
any of it being used was when Lynne had been a high school senior and had gone to a band competition in Indiana. She and Dave hadn’t been able to go since they’d both had to work. Now, as she moved aside three pairs of skis, two bowling balls, a tent, and assorted backpacks, Sylvia reminded herself that it was long past time for the kids to come and collect all their gear.
She tugged the dusty suitcases from their corner and looked them over. Luckily, they weren’t in too bad a shape. She examined the largest piece with a critical eye, rotating it to check for rips or damage. It looked okay. The zippers still worked; the wheels still rolled, and the handle mechanisms retracted only a bit stiffly. The case was basic black in a tight-woven fabric. It wasn’t very feminine, but it would serve the purpose once it was cleaned off. The smaller pieces, having been nested inside the largest case, were in almost new condition.
Sylvia selected a medium piece then zipped the others back inside the big case. This time, she stored the luggage against the wall near the washer and dryer so they’d be handy. She might not need more than one piece this time, but she didn’t want to have to dig them out the next time.
As she headed up the stairs with the case in one hand, an enraged bellow suddenly boomed from the direction of the back patio.
"The South Pole? What in the blazes do you mean you’re going to the South Pole?"
Chapter Nine
"Are you going to work on your travel quilt tonight?" Lila asked when Sylvia joined the group at The Stitching Post the next evening.
The older woman's question didn't surprise Sylvia. The previous week, she had shared with the group that she’d already managed to save more than enough money to pay for the first bus excursion for her and Dave. But she didn't want to talk about that just now.
The Calico Heart Page 4