The Country Guesthouse

by Robyn Carr

  Owen explained his trip had been canceled but he was glad of that because he now had a fishing buddy. Anyone who stopped by the booth to say hello to Owen was introduced to Hannah and Noah.

  Noah had barely put a dent in his burger when it was time for ice-cream sundaes. When they came to the table, Noah actually sighed, making Hannah and Owen laugh.

  On the way home, the sunset still an hour away, Noah was nodding off in the back seat.

  “Someone had a big day,” Hannah said.

  “Need me to carry him in for you?”

  “Nah,” she said. “I’m getting some pretty good upper body muscles.”

  “I’m going to let Romeo out for his evening romp. If you’re not too tired, would you like to sit on the porch for a while?”

  “I’m not the tired one,” she said, giving a grunt as she hoisted Noah into her arms.

  When she got him inside, he flopped back on the bed, his arms and legs totally limp. She got rid of those heavy shoes first, then the braces, the socks, then tried to sit him up to pull his shirt over his head. He put his head on her shoulder and didn’t help a bit. “Give me a hand here, buddy. We’ll get your pants off and you can just wear your T-shirt and some flannel bottoms, in case you get cold in the night.”

  “Hannah,” he said in his tiny voice. “I knew we were having a vacation. But I didn’t know I was gonna like it.”

  “We’re just getting started, honey.” She kissed his brow. “Snuggle under, snug as a bug. I love you, Noah.”

  “Love you, too, Mama.”

  For just a moment, Hannah nearly crumbled in tears. And quickly, Noah began to snore softly. He’d been with her for just a moment, his mother. She found herself hoping he would remember that in the morning. “Hold him tight, Erin,” she whispered.

  * * *

  Owen leaned back and put his feet up on the porch rail, admiring the moon glistening on the lake. When Hannah stepped onto the porch, she was looking somehow bedraggled. He should have insisted on carrying Noah.

  She sat down with a sniff.

  “Uh-oh,” he said. “Something’s wrong.”

  “It’s just one of those things that I suppose could happen a lot. He just said, ‘I love you, too, Mama.’” She inhaled a jagged breath. “Poor guy. And I miss her so much, too.”

  “Of course you do,” he said. “You know what would be good? We should raid the landlord’s liquor closet and wine cellar.” He stood.

  “Oh, that’s locked,” she said absently. He tilted his head and gave her a sly smile. “Oh, right, you probably have the key.”

  “What’s your pleasure? Wine? Cocktail? Brandy? Liqueur?”

  “A glass of wine. Any red would be lovely, thank you.”

  He went slowly, giving her a chance to cry a little if that was what she wanted or needed. He returned with a bottle, a corkscrew and two glasses. He showed her the label and she said, “Whoa. I don’t know much about wine but whoever bought that does. Bordeaux ’82.”

  “Let’s see if it lives up to its reputation. There are a lot of counterfeits running around and I’m no expert.” He pulled the cork and smelled it. “I think we’ll be okay.”

  Romeo came to the porch and lay down right beside Hannah. She casually gave that big head a massage. “Good old boy, you did a good deed today. You made a little boy happy. We’ll work on your gracefulness.”

  Owen poured a small amount in a glass for Hannah to taste. She swirled and sniffed and tasted. “Oh, Owen,” she said. “This is so nice.”

  He smiled and added to her glass. Then he poured his and put the bottle on the deck. “You know, the melancholy way the day came to an end notwithstanding, we all had a very nice day. Noah had some big fun!” Then he brought the wine to his lips. “Damn, that’s actually wonderful. And I didn’t even let it breathe.”

  “Owen, I really don’t know what to say. You’ve been so generous with your time, your house, spoiling us. I know you have to work and this is so unexpected.”

  “Looked like the two of you could use a little spoiling. You’ve both been through quite an upheaval. And selfishly, I had a great time, except for about three seconds when I was really hoping I could grab Noah before he went under.” He laughed. “I didn’t want to go in—that lake is cold. I think we need wet suits. There’s an idea. That might be my best idea yet.”

  “You know I’m not expecting you to entertain us while we’re here...”

  “Make your own plans,” he said. “I’m flexible. If you two have time, maybe we’ll knock around. If not, I know how to keep busy. I like my own company, dim-witted as I am. But I also like kids. And you could use some adult company.”

  “It’s a shame you and your wife didn’t have kids. You’re so good with them.”

  “It’s pretty easy to be good with a kid like Noah. He’s dealing with what can be a disabling medical condition and just suffered an enormous loss, and yet...” He shook his head. “He’s a bright spot.”

  “I guess we’re going to have to get a dog,” she said weakly. “I’ve always traveled so much for work, I couldn’t manage a dog even though I love them.”

  “I travel all the time but I have a sister in Denver. On my way to the airport, Romeo goes to play with his cousins—two nephews, a niece and two canines—a golden and a poodle.”

  “Well, that’s convenient. Kudos to you for thinking ahead.”

  “I wasn’t thinking ahead,” he said with a laugh. “I saw some jackass dump a dog by the side of the road. Chained him to a tree, left a bowl of water and sped away. It was all I could do to keep from chasing him down and punching him in the face, but instead I loaded this hair bag into the back seat. I wondered what kind of dog this was—I thought he was full grown. The vet pronounced him a five-month-old Great Dane who would double in size. He probably ate his first owner’s house. He tried to eat mine! But it took me about two days to know I’d never give him up. Romeo has a good soul. He’s talked me through many a rough patch.”

  “He’s so sweet,” she said, her hand on his big head.

  “So, your job...?”

  “It seems so long ago already. I’m in sales for a medical equipment and supply company. It’s highly competitive and fast-paced and I was getting a little burned-out. The last time I was at your house it was with a few salesmen. It was a team-building retreat that went south fast. We failed at team building and I defected. I went home to a breakup with my fiancé. I had barely cleared him out of my house and canceled all the wedding plans when we lost Erin. Inheriting a five-year-old involves a lot of reorganizing, moving, legal paperwork...”

  “And you’ve been off work this whole time?”

  “I took family leave. It was my only option. I may not have given birth but I did become a mother.”

  “How much time do you get?”

  “Up to three months paid, up to three more months without pay. If I need it, I can push that to six months. Our other two best friends have offered to keep Noah when I have to leave town, but there’s a lot of other stuff to figure out. They’re working mothers. A vacation is one thing but we have to get established with a new medical team and physical therapists. And school will be a challenge—I want to be available for him if I’m needed. Am I going to have to go the private school route? So, I’m thinking about what kind of career adjustment I can make so I don’t travel as often. The future still looks pretty foggy.”

  Owen leaned forward. “I have a feeling you’re the kind of person who can figure things like that out pretty easily. Efficiently.”

  She laughed. “Efficiency—the bane of my existence. I find myself thinking things like ‘I better eat something now so I don’t forget later.’ Or ‘I should hurry and fall asleep so I can get up and start working again. That would be efficient.’”

  “You never leave work on your desk?” he asked.

  “And you
know what that usually gets you? More work. They give it to the person who can get it done. And that’s not always synonymous with who gets the promotion.”

  “That’s old news,” he said. “It’s always been that way.”

  “Do you have a boss, Owen?” she asked.

  “I have obligations,” he said. “I’ve signed contracts for which I have to produce work on a schedule. But I’m a lot like you—I do the work that has to be done. I’m not driven but I’m motivated. And my only boss is me, if you don’t count Romeo. He has needs.” Romeo, relaxed, had sprawled on the deck, rolled onto his back, feet in the air. A huff of laughter came out of Owen. “He leads a very stressful life.”

  “I bet when you have your room, he sleeps on the bed with you.”

  Owen stiffened. “Was your comforter dirty or hairy?”

  “No,” she laughed. “Everything is perfectly clean. Sterile.”

  “That’s Mrs. Bourne. She and her daughter and daughter-in-law do the cleaning. They’re amazing. Except they have no concept of time zones. Even though I tell them where I’ll be, it isn’t unusual for Mrs. Bourne to call me at three in the morning to ask me if I’m ready to have the duvet washed or the refrigerator emptied out for the next round of guests. They could call the Realtor who manages the rental schedule, but no.”

  “They sure do a great job on the house. Do you ever live in it?”

  “Oh, yes, for weeks or months at a time. I only rent it out about twelve weeks a year, when I’m away. Mrs. Bourne takes care of the barn, too. I have become an extremely lazy man.”

  “I bet you’re not,” she said. “Tell me what you’re working on now.”

  “I’ll show you tomorrow if you have time.”

  “If I have time?” she asked with a laugh. “I’m here to do nothing and I’m already exhausted. Tell me about it.”

  “I’m working on a few things. I love collections. Sometimes they become books with accompanying essays. I did one on trees. Who cares about trees? It turns out a lot of people. And in chasing them down, I’ve learned of cultural regard for trees, mystical beliefs, spiritual relationships with trees, trees that covered ten generations with their branches, trees that were murdered for money and the land beneath them died and went fallow. There are places in Mexico where maidens marry trees to fight back deforestation and to protest illegal logging. Who knew?

  “Right now I’m collecting pictures of homecomings—military homecomings, refugee reunions, people returning home after incarceration, even people reunited with their pets. I think it’s going to be a wonderful collection. It will make people cry, and have you noticed people love to cry? As long as they’re not in pain. If they cry at reunions, those are happy tears. And every reunion has a story.” He laughed. “I hated every writing assignment I ever got in school because I wanted to see pictures! And now the writing that accompanies the picture is so much fun for me.”

  “Do you cry while you’re finding the pictures and writing the essays?” she asked.

  He laughed quietly. “I’m a softie. I’ll cry at the drop of a hat. It’s embarrassing.”

  “I think it’s wonderful,” she said. Then she lifted her empty glass toward him. “Just half,” she said.

  They talked through the entire bottle of wine. Owen told her about beginning to take pictures in junior high and high school, studying photography and other things in college before quitting so he could concentrate on pictures, then taking any job that included a camera, until about ten years ago, finding surprising success in the mountains of Colorado, shooting his travels, his collections, writing his essays.

  She started to tell him about her college days and ended up telling him about breaking up with two fiancés, both apparently in need of more than one partner. One when she was thirty, the next at thirty-five.

  “Was your heart badly broken?” he asked.

  “It was bruised. My pride was broken. But before I could wallow, Erin died and there was a little boy with a broken heart, putting all my problems in their proper place. He had a good life in Madison and I had to take him away. The one bright spot is that Noah knows us—me, Sharon and Kate—and we’re all in the Minneapolis area. Kate’s kids are a little older and they’re very sweet to Noah. That will help. And I pray I can find a babysitter or nanny half as good as his Linda was. Linda was like a grandmother to him. Her whole family embraced Noah.”

  “You said Noah’s mother’s family is not good,” Owen said. “I’m trying not to think about what that might mean...”

  “One of the things that made Erin and me close was our similar family situations. We had kind of hard childhoods. Not hungry or homeless hard, but emotionally difficult. We were both abandoned by our fathers and were left with mothers who seemed to resent us. In my case, I was adopted. I’m told I was a terrible baby, cried all the time. Or maybe I had a mother who wanted a baby but was unprepared for what that meant. My father left, my mother remarried and had two daughters in that marriage. And I knew that I was not the favorite child. There was even a time in my teenage years when one of my sisters pointed out that they weren’t really related to me in any way. When I went to college, I didn’t get any help from my family and it was obvious they didn’t miss me. The only time they called was when they wanted something. I made a new family with my friends.

  “Erin’s situation was worse. She never knew her father. Her mother remarried after being deserted by Erin’s father and immediately had a son, who she worshipped. He was five years younger than Erin but he was a terrible brat. He was constantly in trouble and eventually served time for robbery, theft, assault, and he was accused of far more that he wasn’t convicted of. Erin stopped speaking to her mother years ago and it was over her brother. Erin had loaned him money that, of course, he didn’t repay. Then Erin’s mother wanted Erin to come up with bail money and when Erin refused, that was last straw. They were estranged long before Noah came along. In fact, Victoria didn’t even come to Erin’s celebration of life. I was relieved, to tell the truth. All of Erin’s friends and especially Linda, the babysitter, knew that Noah was to be protected from the Addisons at all cost, probably because of her brother. Erin’s will is very clear about that. Erin was a paralegal and her boss was also her lawyer—he knew the facts. And not only do I have a lawyer representing me in this matter, Noah has an attorney ad litem. Roger Addison is a bad seed and his mother has a blind eye. Roger has had problems with addiction and crime. Erin didn’t trust her mother to keep Noah and his estate safe. It’s going to take a while to settle everything, from the sale of Erin’s house and other estate matters, but I’ve been granted legal guardianship. When Noah’s had a little breathing room and has had time to grieve, I’ll talk to him about adoption.”

  The information about Roger made the hairs on the back of Owen’s neck stand up. He hated hearing that. “Where do they live?”

  “I have no idea where Roger is but his mother is in Minneapolis. I’ve met her exactly once, for maybe ten minutes. We all grew up there but didn’t know each other until college.”

  “You have to be diligent, Hannah. It sounds terrible.”

  “I know. But it’s not just me—Kate and Sharon are also on high alert. We’ll keep Noah safe. Whatever that takes.”

  “Your friend was smart to put him in your hands.”

  She laughed. “I hope I’m up to your praise. What about your childhood, Owen? Was it tainted by trouble like ours?”

  “My childhood,” he said with a sigh. “My childhood was perfect. Ideal. My parents were happy people who not only loved each other, they liked each other. They were courteous to each other, helpful and funny and kind. We laughed. My younger sister and I had those days we were horrid and it didn’t throw them at all. I remember having a tantrum and trying to destroy my room and I overheard my mother say to my father, ‘He’s going to have so much to clean up—try not to laugh.’ Even in the worst crises
of my young life, they were calm and encouraging. I’m sure if not for them, I’d be destitute and miserable now. I mean, what kind of parents encourage their son’s love for photography when he’s quitting college to pursue it?”

  “They must be so proud of you,” she said.

  “My mother is. She brags. I hope she’s not giving out my address. She always has someone who needs to talk to me about professional photography and publishing. But...I lost my father about ten years ago. I really miss him. He passed too young. He was sixty. He’d never had any retirement. My mom is now seventy, living on her own, driving herself everywhere, is in fantastic health, active in the community. After my father died, she moved to Denver to be close to my sister.” He thought for a minute. “I better visit her pretty soon.”

  “Do you stay in touch?”

  “Oh, sure. We call and text and FaceTime. She hates that, but I want to see her when we talk, as if it will tell me something about how she’s getting along. My sister sees her every week. Sometimes more often.”

  They talked until it was pitch-dark.

  “You should get some sleep,” Owen said. “Noah’s going to be recharged by morning.”

  “I know,” she said with a laugh. “I’m thinking of trying to find horses. He so loves animals. He’d be so thrilled to have a ride.”

  “I’ll help you find horses,” Owen said.

  “My God, I think you are my prince! Don’t get any ideas, Owen,” she teased. “I’m not planning any more weddings! It’s just me and Noah now.”

  * * *

  Owen puttered around the barn for a little while before going to bed. He would have company tomorrow, of that he had no doubt. He tidied up, not that it needed much. He put things that had run astray in neat piles or in their proper places. He put his few dishes and cups in the dishwasher, clothes he had dropped or draped in the laundry basket. He gave the bathroom a quick wipe. It didn’t take him long. He was by nature tidy. But he could get a little distracted sometimes...