by RS Anthony
“Hello, Aunt Magda. How are you?” They hugged.
“I’m fine. I’m so sorry about your mother.”
“Yeah.”
“Look at me, keeping you out in the yard. Come on, come inside.” Aunt Magda waved them in, and Andy and Paul followed her into the small cozy cottage with a thatched roof, chimney, and fireplace. She pointed at the couch, motioning for them to sit. “Can I get you two a drink?”
“I can’t stay for long, Mag. I have to drop Andy off at the farmhouse before I head back to the city,” Paul said.
“You’re leaving right away?”
“Yes. I have an early flight to San Francisco tomorrow.”
Aunt Magda’s jaw dropped and her eyes went round. She glanced at Andy and then back at her brother.
“Can’t you postpone your trip, Paulie? This boy just lost his mother.”
“I can’t. I already canceled three important meetings when Pat died. My business is in trouble. I have to go this time.” He paused. “I was hoping you could keep an eye on things while Andy stays at the farmhouse for a month.”
“You’re going to leave him alone at the farmhouse for a month?” Paul nodded. “Nonsense! Andy, you’ll stay here with us.”
“It’s okay, Aunt Magda. I’ll be all right at the farmhouse. I want to spend some time doing the things my mom used to do. Tending to her garden and stuff.”
“Of course,” Aunt Magda said, nodding.
“But I promise I’ll come and visit you every day.”
“You’ll have to. I’ll cook for you and get some meat on those bones,” she said, tapping on his arm.
“You don’t have to trouble yourself, Mag. Don’t we have a cook and housekeeper at the farmhouse? Karl something?”
“Oh, I had to fire Karl Maine when I caught him carting away some of the silverware in the kitchen. Gave him an earful, too, but not before getting back every piece he stole.”
“So we don’t have a housekeeper anymore?”
“I hired Piffy Dawson. She does a terrific job.”
“Great. So she can take care of things while Andy’s there.” Paul smiled. “Where’s Matt and Corrine?”
“Matt’s still out. Corrine, well, I don’t know where she is. She’s hardly home. Leaves in the morning and comes back really late. She dropped out of school three years ago.” Aunt Magda sighed. It seemed Corrine hadn’t changed.
Paul nodded, a blank expression on his face. “Well, maybe she’ll be home more now that Andy’s in town.”
“Yeah. Maybe he can talk some sense into her for wasting time wandering about.”
Paul nodded again. A second later, he looked at his watch and said, “I should get going. I have to take Andy over and it’s getting late.”
“You should come another time and stay for dinner. Both of you. You never stay long enough for coffee to get cold.”
Paul laughed and rose. “I will, Mag. Another time. I just have to settle some things in San Francisco.”
“Good,” Aunt Magda said. “Kids grow up real fast, Paulie. You should make the best of the years you have with your boy.” Aunt Magda touched Andy’s cheek. “Don’t make the same mistake you did with Pat.”
Paul’s eyebrows came together in a wrinkle. For once, his chilly disposition was chipped by Aunt Magda’s wise words. Seconds later, he hugged his sister and kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Bye, Aunt Magda. I’ll come by tomorrow.” Andy rose and hugged the stocky woman again.
“I can send a bowl of porridge later if you like.”
“That’s okay. I just ate on the way here. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed early.”
“Poor child. You must be tired. I stocked up the refrigerator, so if you get hungry, you can have some milk and cake. If you need anything else, ask Piffy. She’ll be there when you arrive.”
“I will. Thanks.”
Father and son exited the cottage and headed for the car, followed by two cackling geese on their heels. Aunt Magda was right behind them.
“Andy, can you please wait in the car while I speak to your Aunt Magda for a minute?” Paul said.
“Sure.” Andy got in the car, closed the door, and watched the exchange between the two.
His father said something to Aunt Magda, and she shook her head with eyes closed. Paul spread his hands before him, trying to reason with her about something, but it seemed like she wouldn’t hear of it. She looked defiant, but in a gentle, motherly way. The disappointment on his father’s face was plain. Finally, he slipped his hand into his coat and removed a thick envelope. Aunt Magda shook her head insistently, refusing the envelope, but Andy’s father clamped it in her hands with a stern look. Moments later, he hugged his sister one more time, kissed her forehead, and headed for the car as Aunt Magda watched.
Although Andy couldn’t hear a single word, he knew exactly what had transpired. He had been listening to bits of gossip about Uncle Matt for a while now, so it wasn’t difficult to make a reasonably accurate assumption. Based on what Andy had gathered so far, his father had been pleading with Aunt Magda to leave Uncle Matt for years, but she always refused. He even offered to get her a divorce lawyer at his own expense, but Aunt Magda chided him, saying, “We Catholics don’t get divorced.” She explained things away with, “Every marriage has its problems,” and “It was my fault,” and “I have to make sure Corrine has a father figure.”
Paul had heard it all before, but there was nothing he could do. She was adamant about staying with Matt. In the end, all he could do was give her money so that she and Corrine could at least take care of themselves.
The Porsche pulled out of Aunt Magda’s yard and snaked along dirt roads again. The sun was heading for the horizon, and both of them were clearly exhausted by the long drive. Paul didn’t slip his sunglasses back on this time, exposing the crease on his forehead. He kept a knuckle close to his lips, deep in thought until they reached the farmhouse five minutes later. Andy grabbed his bag and got out of the car with his father.
“Are you coming in?”
“No. It’s getting late. I should go.”
“Goodbye then.” Andy turned and headed for the farmhouse.
“Andy,” his father called, and Andy glanced back. Paul stood with his hands tucked in his pockets, rocking on his heels as he cleared his throat. “If you like, we can go on a holiday somewhere when I get back.”
“Yeah, sure,” Andy said without a trace of excitement. He had stopped taking his father’s proposals and promises seriously a long time ago.
“Okay.” Paul cleared his throat again. “Maybe you can look online and make a list of places that interest you.”
“Sure.”
“Good. If you need anything, call me. Stay out of trouble, and please look out for your Aunt Magda.”
“I will.”
Andy watched the car until the taillights disappeared. Then he turned around, headed up the stairs, and pressed the doorbell.
A woman opened the door. “Hello, Andy,” she said.
“You must be Piffy.”
“That’s right.”
Piffy Dawson was a widow in her fifties, looking every last day of her age with wide hips and grey hair hoisted up in a neat bun. She looked matronly in a short white dress that had seen better days. “You look tired. Can I get you anything?” she asked as soon as Andy entered the house.
“No, thanks,” he said. The house was exactly the way it had been when his mother was around. Warm lights filled the front hall, and roses and lilies stood in pretty vases on the coffee tables and main table, releasing a wonderful aroma. Aunt Magda and Piffy had done a wonderful job of keeping the place clean and tidy in the three years since the Monaghans last visited.
“Your Aunt Magda told me a lot about your mother, God bless her soul. I tried to keep the place as your mother liked it. But I never knew her, so I don’t really know if it matches,” Piffy said. “Do you like it?”
“It looks perfect. Just how it was
when she was around.”
The woman smiled. “Would you like something to eat? I made some stew and kept it in the fridge just in case. See, I live down the road about five minutes from here. So it’s real easy for me to pop over.”
“No thanks, Piffy. I’m going to take a shower and go straight to bed. You can go home if you want to.”
“Here, let me take you to your room.”
Andy grabbed his bag and followed her. His bedroom hadn’t changed much either. The floor had been polished and there were wild orchids in a vase by the window. Andy smiled as Piffy closed the door and left. Alone at last, he removed the jacket he’d been wearing since morning and sat on the bed. Through the window he watched the branches dance in the warm summer breeze and listened to the howling wind for a moment before dropping his head into his hands. Seconds later, his shoulders shook and he wept.
- Get your copy from Amazon on 13 June 2016 -
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
About the Author
Coming Soon