The Country Guesthouse

by Robyn Carr

  “Right, like you ever do that,” he said. He grabbed his crutches and headed inside. Then he turned. “Does she have to come back?”

  “We’ll see,” Cal said. “The judge wanted her to have a chance to meet you, get to know you. You didn’t like her?”

  He shrugged. “She’s okay. But she shouldn’t make up stories. My mom said that’s the same thing as lying.”

  “And what did she make up?” Cal asked.

  “My mom didn’t like scary movies at all. She didn’t like movies that much. Just the ones we watched together. When the commercial for a scary one was on she used to cover her eyes and say, ‘No way.’ She didn’t watch TV hardly ever and I was only allowed one hour, except when we watched a movie. She liked quiet. She loved her books. And my mom hates rides—she threw up on the teacups at Disney. And she’d never let me go on hardly anything cool. And what’s a corn dog?”

  “A hot dog on a stick, sort of.”

  He just made a face and shook his head. “I didn’t never get hot dogs till I came here,” he said. “My mom was a vegetable nut. She put spinach in everything—she said it was good for my muscles. I been to McDonald’s, like, once! Here is better for food, but for everything else I still want my mom.”

  “I want her, too,” Hannah said. “Thanks for doing that, Noah. I am very impressed by your manners.”

  “And we know what her favorite color is,” he added. He crutched his way into the house.

  Hannah sank into a chair, exhausted. “God, that was interminable.” Owen and Cal wandered into the house, leaving the women on the porch.

  “But he did all your work for you,” Sheila said. “He brought her out. She’s a fraud. She knows nothing about her daughter or her grandson.”

  “Erin had a dog—a little mutt, part Yorkie. While she was at school, living with us in our little duplex just off campus, her mother had him put to sleep. Victoria said he was old and sick, but she never even called. Erin went home to her mother’s house and the dog was just gone. I hope Noah doesn’t know about that. He’s just a little boy.”

  “That was a good first visit—you learned things in a safe setting,” Sheila said. “The judge will want to be told if the visit doesn’t go well. And it didn’t go well from the standpoint of making Noah quite sad because his mother was so erroneously remembered. What was her favorite color?”

  “Variations of purple or violet or lilac. She wore it constantly. She painted her bedroom pale purple. We teased her about it. It was so gaggy. But she didn’t force it on Noah... And Victoria read him baby books. What a trouper—he sat and listened. First time I pulled a little-kid book off the shelf in Owen’s house, Noah informed me that he already knew that one, that it was a baby book. I started reading him bigger stories—we’re working on Treasure Island. He can read a lot of it himself. He doesn’t know what all the words mean but he can sound them out.”

  “At five?” Sheila gasped.

  “He doesn’t play outside as much as the other kids...” Hannah said, repeating what Noah had told her.

  “He sure plays outside here. The three of them have been running wild.”

  “Since we’ve been here, he’s been very active.”

  A glass of wine appeared before Hannah and she looked up into Owen’s eyes. “What’s this?”

  “A little sedative,” Owen said. “Noah is already bouncing around, yelling and laughing with the girls, evidence he’s not at all traumatized. They’re playing Uno. And he’s eating all their pretzels. Want wine, Sheila?”

  “Of course. I’m on vacation.”

  “What did you think of the visit with Victoria?” Owen asked Sheila.

  “It doesn’t really matter what I think,” Sheila said. “But it matters what Noah thinks and what Hannah thought. I didn’t get a good feeling from Victoria. If she really wants a relationship with her grandson in spite of the fact that her daughter was opposed to that, then she’ll accept the judge’s decision and ask permission to phone him or text him or email him. She could get to know him a little and send appropriate gifts for his birthday and Christmas. Did you notice she seemed surprised by the crutches? It kind of looked like Victoria didn’t know about his CP or what it meant. Just another little piece of information.”

  Owen put a glass in front of Sheila and the other men joined them at the table.

  “I’m anxious to hear what you thought, Cal,” Hannah said.

  “Well, she didn’t do anything wrong or even suspicious,” he said. “I had a case a long time ago in which a young child’s mother died prematurely and the divorced father had returned to Mexico. The judge wasn’t going to send a small child to a country he didn’t know, to a language he didn’t speak, but the father wanted his son and was entitled to him. The judge set up a series of supervised visits between father and son over an extended period of time and eventually the boy and his father were well acquainted and returned to Mexico, where the man’s parents and siblings lived and were anxious to help out. A visitation schedule with his American grandparents was worked out. I don’t know how they’re doing now, but it was a very rational plan at the time.

  “But the circumstances are a little different in this case. Erin went to a great deal of trouble to select the guardian she preferred and in addition, went to a lot of trouble to be sure Noah wouldn’t go to his grandmother. She made her reasons clear; she explained in detail why it wasn’t a good idea. Clearly Hannah has been closer to Erin and Noah the past five years than Victoria was.”

  “Did you ever find out more about her?” Hannah asked.

  “I learned a few things, and not at all what I expected. First of all, she’s a cancer survivor...”

  “Wait. What?” Hannah asked.

  “She told a neighbor and a coworker she’d been cancer-free for seven years, but neither knew what kind of cancer.”

  “But Erin never... Erin would have known. Even though they didn’t have a good relationship, even though—Erin said she called her mother periodically, just to check on her, just to make sure she was okay. They didn’t see each other for years, but they were somewhat in touch. Erin made that dreaded phone call every now and then—I got the impression it was a couple of times a year or once a year—but said that her mother never called her. She once told me her mother hadn’t called her in four years. I’d known Erin for so long, I can’t remember how often she said she’d talked to her mother after Noah was born. Maybe never. She said every phone call ended in an argument—either Erin wasn’t doing enough for her mother or there was some issue with Roger, like he needed help or money. But if you’d known Erin... She was too tenderhearted to have ignored something like cancer. She would not have risked having her mother die without seeing her. And from what she said of Victoria, she would have asked Erin for some kind of help.” Hannah shook her head. “She couldn’t have known.”

  “But if they were estranged...”

  Hannah shook her head. “There were at least a few times Erin talked of being tempted to go see her mother or give her mother money after she moved to Madison. She said she had to be very careful. She said her mother wasn’t above using her.”

  “I guess that doesn’t matter much now. I’ll see if that matter comes up again. She’s currently unemployed,” Cal went on. “She’s had a variety of jobs, many of them in the human services area. Apparently she was known to be giving. Generous. She worked for a consulting business that provided seniors’ services—they offered health care options, financial services like reverse mortgage, financial planning, long-term care insurance, investment counseling. They went out of business about six months ago so follow-up there was impossible. She has also worked in nursing homes, as a volunteer and in hospital administration. A long time ago she was in property management, in sales for an extended care facility, in a rehab facility. If that didn’t tell me much, add to that her volunteerism—she obviously has accounting
skills because she’s worked for several nonprofits in that capacity. She’s also been a companion to a few elderly people. She’s dabbled in real estate, possibly for supplemental income. At first glance, it appears she enjoyed helping people.”

  “At first glance?” Hannah said.

  “We haven’t turned up many personal contacts. She’s moved a lot, renting places around Minneapolis and Saint Paul for a couple of years or less and it seems she either wasn’t close to her neighbors or they’ve moved just as much. There have been very few references—only a couple of coworkers who said she was very nice and well liked. She’s a single sixty-five-year-old woman and yet I can’t seem to find her friends. But a couple of neighbors from years past seem to know all about Roger. And while they didn’t know Victoria very well, they were sympathetic. She had a troubled adult son who took advantage of her.”

  “That’s a tad unsteady,” Sheila said. “No long-term commitments. Who does she shop with? Play canasta with? Go to water aerobics with?”

  “And she’s a liar,” Hannah said. “She told the judge she wasn’t contacted about Erin’s passing until the day before the funeral and that’s not true. Noah knows she doesn’t remember the true facts about her daughter.”

  “I did learn that Roger Addison is still in Minneapolis but there’s nothing to indicate he was staying in Victoria’s home, according to a neighbor. He hasn’t lived with her recently, though he has visited for a couple of hours occasionally. Apparently he cut her grass a couple of times. He has a noisy truck, distinguishable by dents and peeling paint,” Cal said. “I’ll do a little more research. Maybe I can file an injunction, bringing this visitation experiment to an end. On the other hand, we might want to ride it out, then meet with the judge again.”

  “Before you make a final decision, let me have a talk with Noah,” Hannah said. “If he’s upset, we might need to step in.”

  * * *

  In the early morning, Owen was holding Hannah closely. “It’s our last day with our extended family,” she said with a sigh. “How do you like the idea of establishing a commune? I think we could pull it off.”

  “What if I want you all to myself?” he countered.

  “Don’t look now but I think that ship has sailed. It’s you, me and Noah. What are we going to do on our last day together?”

  “You’ve already forgotten,” he said. “It’s going to be a warm, sunny day. There are fish to catch and swimming to do. And my sister is coming.”

  “That’s right! Do you know when?”

  “Before noon, I’m sure,” he said. “Sheila and my sister remained good friends.”

  “You were right,” she said. “I really like Sheila. I hope we can also keep in touch as friends.”

  He pulled her on top of him. “She’s remained friends with her ex-husband all these years so I like your chances. She’s obviously very tolerant. Let’s put the coffee on and see what kind of a day we have.”

  Owen got busy in the kitchen. Hannah and Sheila took their coffee to the front porch and let Romeo wander around the yard. The kids were soon making noise in the kitchen and Lucas escaped to the porch. He informed them Owen was making pancakes and eggs. “There’s food coloring involved,” he said.

  It was ten o’clock before everyone had eaten, showered, dressed and was ready to talk about the day ahead, but a car drove up and gave a horn a toot. Hannah just watched as Sheila recognized the occupants at once and let out a shriek of joy, covering her face with her hands. She ran to the vehicle as people started to emerge. An elderly lady, a woman about Sheila’s age, and three kids embraced Sheila, then raced toward Owen. They were sidetracked by the dog and hugged him instead. Then Sheila’s kids rushed to the kids from the car. Lots of hugging followed—it was clearly a reunion.

  Owen put an arm across Hannah’s shoulders. “The rest of the family,” he said. “My mom, Janet; my sister, Mary; nieces, Susanne and Korby; nephew, James. My brother-in-law wasn’t able to come, but you’ll meet him soon, I promise. They’re just here for the day. I wanted you to meet them and they all wanted to see Sheila, Lucas and the kids. We’re a very strange and large extended family.”

  She looked up into Owen’s eyes. “You’re magical, that’s what you are.”

  * * *

  It was a very full day of storytelling, eating, playing, getting acquainted and general catching up. For much of the day the women were either sitting on the porch talking or in the kitchen putting together potato salad, deviled eggs, a veggie platter and condiments while Owen and Lucas had the kids either fishing or in the lake swimming. It was still pretty early when Owen and Lucas lit the grill and a feast of hamburgers and hot dogs was served. Everyone crammed around the big dining table.

  The sun had barely begun its downward path when Mary rounded up her mother and kids to make the drive back to Denver. The day quieted quickly after that as the exhausted kids got showered and settled in front of a movie, Owen and Lucas sat at the dining table and played cribbage, and Hannah and Sheila sat outside in the deepening shadows.

  “Full disclosure, I suggested to Owen that we invite you to stay and we could form a commune,” Hannah said. “I’m really going to miss you. How crazy is that? My guy’s ex has become one of my favorite people?”

  Sheila laughed. “And you’re one of mine, but a commune is not in our future. Please don’t say anything in front of the kids, but we’re going to make a change. It could take as long as a year, but we’ll be relocating the foundation and the advocacy to DC. I’ve been asked to serve on a national council for children’s safety. It’ll give us a greater reach into the national network of child advocacy and it will make me a full-time activist. I’m ready. Plus, all the national lawmakers are there and I plan to be their worst nightmare.”

  “That’s so exciting! Are you looking forward to moving?” Hannah asked.

  “I am. Lucas has a lot of family around Southern California so he’s a little unsure, but he wants to grow the foundation and this is the most practical way to do it. I’m sure the girls will have trouble with the change but in the end it will be good for them. It will add experiences to their lives. But what about you, Hannah? What are you and Noah going to do?”

  “I’ve never been happier than I have been since we’ve been here and Noah is doing so well, but my work is in Minneapolis. And even though Owen wants us to stay and says he isn’t worried about whether I work, I don’t know what I’ll do without work. It’s not just the income, it’s the feeling that I’m doing something useful, that I’m contributing. Not that being Noah’s mother isn’t useful...”

  Sheila laughed. “You don’t have to explain to me of all people. Mothering is a blessing and rewarding, but you should have something to give yourself to. Something you’re not giving to someone else but filling your own well.”

  “Owen talks about his well a lot,” she said. “I’ve been helping him in the shop—transferring pictures onto other mediums. It’s fun but I don’t know if it would keep my interest over the long term.”

  “You know what Owen really needs? A business manager,” Sheila said. “Someone with PR experience who could set up shows for his work, keep the books, write press releases, make his travel arrangements, interact with his agent and publisher, help him sell his work. I bet his financial books are a wreck by now—I used to take care of all his billing and receivables. He used to keep everything in a leather binder, completely disorganized...”

  “He’s almost paperless now,” Hannah said. “I’m a little reluctant to get into his personal business.”

  “That’s not personal,” Sheila said. “It’s his business and it has many very bothersome details from his corporation to his taxes and pension. And he hates it. Owen was made to wander with a camera and dream. He’s not practical and he doesn’t like practicality. He’d be happiest if he could just take pictures.”

  Hannah was quiet for a moment. �
��I was in sales, then I was a sales manager, which put me in charge of several salesmen. But I would never presume...”

  “Maybe the subject will come up and you can let Owen know that you’re qualified, if he’s interested.” She smiled coyly. “You wouldn’t be the first family business on record.”

  “You are an amazing person,” Hannah said. “How did you do it? How did you divorce, keep a great relationship with Owen and build yourself a new life? I think you still love him and it seems perfectly natural.”

  “I will always love Owen,” she said quietly. “But we were bonded by tragedy and then, in order to survive, we moved in opposite directions. I threw myself into child advocacy, my role growing by the day. Owen just wanted to be out of the public view, to find his peace. His own peace. He’s great with people, he’s a fantastic neighbor and a good friend. He was a wonderful husband and father. But I went to one of his shows in Denver a few years ago and a lot of strangers looking and judging his work put red splotches on his neck. He’s not a hermit, but being the center of attention doesn’t really sit well. Me? I’m okay with being the center of attention! Ha!” She laughed. “I’ve testified before Congress, though I was terrified. The high I was on after doing a good job kept me afloat for days. Owen would have to sleep for a week just to recover after something like that.” She smiled. “We each have our own gifts. We’re better with people who understand and are a little like us. The secret is learning to accept people as they are, not as you wish them to be. You and Owen are good together. You seem to be a lot alike and just different enough to balance each other out.”

  I haven’t had the best of luck in relationships, she thought. But none of them were anything like Owen.

  * * *

  The next morning there was a lot of commotion getting Sheila, Lucas and the kids breakfast, the car loaded and on the road back to the airport. There was a lot of hugging and promises of future visits. And when they were gone, trundling off down the road in their leased van, Owen, Hannah, Noah and Romeo just stood in the yard watching them go. A bird tweeted and a fish jumped.