“Do you mean Steig or God?”
“Either. This is not a situation to any of our likings, but this is where we are and we go on from here. It won’t be like this is for the rest of our lives, you know.”
“But what if something happens to Steig?”
Mona closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath before puffing it out again. “We could play ‘what-if’ until Jesus comes again, but that only gets you a headache.” She should know; she woke up with one this very morning, feeling like she’d not really slept. The what-ifs attacked from all sides. A dose of ibuprofen had only dulled, not eradicated, the pounding behind her eyes. “Do you see any alternatives?”
“Angela?”
“Would you want to send your children to a woman who ran off and left them?”
“No, but…” Marit leaned her elbows on the table. “I guess I’m just concerned about you and Dad. This is so unfair.”
“Fair, unfair. This isn’t a ball game with an umpire or a scorekeeper. We make this as easy for Melinda and Jakey as we can. And for Steig. I know this is tearing him apart. After all, we at least don’t have to go to some far-off country where people want to kill you.”
“He should never have re-upped.”
“Easy for you to say. That’s his career you’re talking about.” Mona could feel her vocal cords tightening. The urge to blast her daughter struck like a rattler. She raised her hands, palms out. “Enough. This is going nowhere. If you have helpful suggestions, I’m all ears. Otherwise, enough. My big concern right now is how to pull off that surprise party for your father; or should we just cancel it and…?”
“No, I say go ahead with your plans; it’s too good a party to cancel. Did you make the reservations yet for that surprise trip you were going to give Dad in July; you know, the Nordic Fest in Decorah, Iowa?”
“Of course. You have to reserve at least a year in advance for that one.”
Marit was silent a moment. “I’m thinking if you have the kids…Look at it from their point of view, Mom. Their mommy and daddy just disappeared, and now the grandparents go waltzing away. I mean, do you think it’s good to leave them so soon after they get here?”
“I really hate to have to cancel Decorah. I understand it’s a glorious time. Your father could unwind, and…you know.”
“So make it a year from this summer. You’ll both be free then.”
Mona sighed. “I’ll think about it. I know you’re right, but…But.”
Marit slung her purse over her shoulder. “Dad and Steig are taking Brit and Arne fishing Saturday morning as we planned, right?”
“Far as I know.” Mona glanced down at her list for the day. “And the party is still on track. If we pull this surprise party off, it won’t be just one miracle, but a whole trainload. If he suspects anything, he’s not let on to me.”
“Maybe that mess at the college is a good thing. Dad’s not had time to be nosy.” She grinned at her mother. “You always say look for the good in everything.”
And sometimes that takes a whole lot of looking. Or waiting.
Chapter Five
You’re going in mighty early.” Mona blinked to see the actual time.
“I know. Whatever it takes.” Ken shrugged into his blue pin-striped shirt. “This is my last shirt.”
“I’ll pick up at the cleaners.” She glared at the clock again. “Six a.m., the coffeepot hasn’t even gone to work yet.”
“I reset it. Not sure what time I’ll be home tonight.” He pulled a tie from the rack in the closet.
“No, not that one. The navy would look better with that shirt.”
His glare made her flinch. She should have kept her mouth shut, but he did need to look his best, and the navy was more forceful.
He threw the offending red one on the bed and ripped the other off the rack. For a change, he got it knotted on the first try and emptied the tray on top of the dresser into his pockets. “Call me after you talk to Steig. He said they would leave early.” He almost missed her cheek with his kiss, but she wasn’t about to mention that. “Are you getting up now?”
“Soon.” She puffed pillows behind her back and, once sitting, reached for her Bible and devotional book. “I love you,” she called to his disappearing back.
“Thanks.” His shoes thunked down the stairs, Ambrose right behind him, she was sure. Hyacinth eyed the door, then changed her mind and walked up Mona’s leg to sit on her sort-of lap and chirp.
“I know, you think it is breakfast time, but not for an hour yet. Some of us need to keep on schedule.” She flipped to the devotion for the day but before reading, closed her eyes. Lord God, only You can straighten all this out. Ken at the office and all that mess, safe travel for Steig and the kids, good weather for the party on Saturday, the weather report isn’t looking too promising. Please, I want this party to be extra special; he’s worked so hard and so long that we all want to celebrate him, as he says, his freedom. Father, You know what You will make happen, please help me keep a lid on the no-fretting kettle. And please, don’t let my depression get out of hand. Sometimes I feel like our lives are being shaken in a basket and about to be dumped out in ways we don’t expect. All I know for sure is that You know Your plan. And You have promised Your plans for us are for good and not for evil. Please help me hang on to that. She heaved a sigh and said aloud, “Trust. I know.” A song from her childhood floated through her mind. “Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in His wonderful face…” She hummed the tune as she paged through her Bible to locate the verses for the day. She’d read the verses and was halfway through the devotional when her phone chimed Steig’s song.
She clicked on. “Good morning.”
“I hope so. We’re loaded and driving down the street to the first stop sign. I’d rather come straight on through, but I’m not sure how the kids will do. They’re both back to sleep right now. Who knows how many stops we’ll have to make, and there is weather between here and there too.”
“How bad? I’ve not checked anything yet. Your dad just left for work, says he’ll do whatever it takes to get everything done that he has to do. All these years of building the quality of his department and now all they talk about is cutting the budget.”
“It won’t be his problem.”
“You know your dad. Those kids, students, whatever the age, mean more to him than the budget. And you can’t put a dollar value on caring, even though the dropout percentages show how well he has done.”
“Some people can. Just check with Congress.”
“I know.” Oh, how she wanted to ask him if this wasn’t the time to leave the military, but she knew his answer. He had chosen to stay in and being deployed was just part of the package. But then when he re-upped, he’d had a wife to take care of his children. “I’ll be praying for you. Call me with progress reports?”
“I will.” He clicked off.
Mona tried to focus on her devotions and journal, but all she could think was, Father, please take care of my two men and their kids. Both Ken and Steig were caught in a web not of their own choosing. “Lord, I trust You with all of this.” She wrote the words large in her journal. Trust—such a small word for so much meaning.
Ambrose’s nails clicked on the hardwood floor, and he flopped down on the rug by her side of the bed with a sigh and a tail thumping.
“Did he feed you?” When the dog’s ears went up and his tail thumped faster at the words, she knew Ken had not taken the time. She stacked her three books on the nightstand and swung her feet to the floor, taking a moment to rub Ambrose with one foot and stroke the cat with one hand. Sighing, she shoved her feet into her flip-flops and headed for the bathroom, where her robe hung on the back of the door. She tied the belt as she headed for the stairs, her animals right beside her. At least the coffee was brewed, the fragrance floating up the stairs.
With the animals fed and her plate of two soft-boiled eggs and buttered toast in hand, along with a refilled mug of coffee, she headed for the three-
season porch so she could look out over the river. Mist feathered up from the surface flirting with the sun’s rays, shielding the opposite bank but not the houses set back higher. Walkers were already moving along the riverside, some jogging, some walking smartly, most strolling peacefully. She had her cell beside her, but since it was too early to start returning phone calls, she hit the button for Pandora and let the music of her favorite stations fill the room. Hopefully the music would keep her mind focused on something other than Steig and the kids in the car or Ken at his desk at the university. Surely no one else would be in the office yet.
After mopping the last of her eggs with toast, she set the plate aside and picked up her calendar. Marit kept trying to get her to use the calendar on her iPhone so that it would show up on her computer and iPad, but she still preferred to lay her day out on paper first so she could move things around more easily; at least, that was her excuse. All the techno stuff that was supposed to simplify her life often didn’t. She wanted her hands to be able to feel her life, to manipulate it, ideally, control it somehow. Swiping a phone simply didn’t cut it.
Reading down the to-do list, she checked off a couple she’d already done, added a prayer for Steig’s travel, and…“Ouch! Do you have to use your claws?” Hyacinth turned around a couple of times, kneading with claws only partially sheathed, and settled on her lap. Mona held her leather-bound desk calendar higher and clicked on her phone to make sure the phone numbers matched.
An hour later, dressed for the day and in her office, she reminded herself to breathe, thanks to the poster on the wall by the window overlooking their garden and the fruit orchard. Standing in front of the window, she took three deep breaths, letting her air all out and then rolling her shoulders. Tight was one way to describe her chest and shoulders—well, really her entire body, let alone her mind. “Breathe!” This time she focused on breathing and relaxing, stared down at the garden, wishing she had time to go hoe for a while or deadhead flowers. Ambrose looked up from standing beside her.
“No, we’re not going for a walk.” She shook her head as she spoke and he sank to the floor, his sigh equaling her own. Resolutely, she pulled out her desk chair, sat herself down, and dialed for messages. Focus had to be her word for today. Might as well start with the worst first. She pulled down the Hedstrom account and tapped in the number. “Good morning, Mrs. Hedstrom. This is Mona Sorenson returning your call.”
“Yes, I was going over the statement you sent me, and it is a hundred dollars over the quote you gave me.”
“That is correct. The original quote was for those services listed above the inset subheading ‘additional services.’ Those services were fully rendered. The services below the subheading are the ones you requested later. The extra hundred dollars covers the envelopes and postage for that list you had me send the flier to, as well as one additional hour preparing the mailing.” Even though it actually took me over two. Mona kept herself from adding any excuses or offering to cut her bill. “The letter of agreement with my original quote says clearly that additional services will be billed accordingly.”
“No, but a quote is a quote.”
“I remind you we went over the contract item by item before you signed. In fact I pointed out the clause, as I always do. You agreed to the conditions. You added more after we signed.”
“Well, I didn’t think it applied to a little thing like that. I certainly won’t be using your services again.” The line went dead.
Mona cradled the phone. “Well, that’s a great way to start the day. Just pay your bill, ma’am, and don’t go bad-mouthing me to all your friends. You got more than your money’s worth.”
Marit’s song. No greeting, no preliminaries. “Have you heard from Steig?”
“Good morning to you, too.”
“Sorry, but he’s been on my mind.”
“They left their house at six fifteen, and he said eighteen hours, but you know it will be more with potty, etc., stops. You can’t make two little kids sit still that long.”
“Tell me about it. I sure hope he has a TV for them. Might keep his sanity.”
Exactly what Mona thought, too. “I have no idea. But they usually have travel bags with toys, coloring books, etc. Jakey will be fine, but Melinda…”
“I had the weather channel on. Looks like it might be bad through Kansas. Heavy rain, possibly tornadoes.”
“I hope he stops for the night and comes in tomorrow.”
Marit snorted. “He always likes driving at night. The kids go to sleep, and he drinks more coffee.”
A beep indicated another caller. “Oops. I gotta go.” Mona switched to the other caller and pulled her yellow pad in place for notes when she realized this was a new client call.
By the end of an hour, she’d finally gotten calls returned. Now it was time to start work. She pulled out the file for a two-day conference for the local senior assistance association. While the speakers and venue were in place, she had plenty else to do. Playing phone tag was one of the necessary trials of her business. She left messages with three caterers, a printing company, and a graphic artist for the advertising and mailing. Was no one else in their office this crazy day? Her last day before she’d be working around children, too.
That thought made her stomach clench, with burning soon added. She should have had tea for breakfast, or at least not the third cup of coffee. Digging the antacid out of her drawer, she popped two in her mouth and chewed. If her stomach was bothering her, what about Ken? She hit messages on her phone and texted Ken. Hope yr day is going better than y feared. Steig left same time y did. Bad weather in KS. I Love you!!!
When she refiled the conference file, she pulled out the next. A meet and greet for a new business to open up mid-June. Venue set, caterer in place, mailing had gone out but more advertising needed. How to make this newsworthy? She ran down the list she’d already done. The normal stuff. But her motto danced before her eyes. “Deliver more than you promised.” A sign on her desk read, IT TAKES SO LITTLE TO BE ABOVE AVERAGE. What in this case would be above average with only three weeks left before the event? They were already doing a silent auction to benefit a local pet rescue. Perusing that list, she pondered. At the same time, her right hand with pencil went into doodle mode. Where was Steig in relation to the storms? She needed to check the weather channel. Her mind took off and left her sitting there, no longer seeing the list. Her hand continued to doodle, only now it was drawing horrid black clouds. She started to stand, to go check the television, but her phone chimed a text.
Weather front moved east, should be ok.
She sank back down and, elbows propped on her desk, scrubbed her hands through her hair. One thing off the fret list.
Three files to go. There would be no seeking new clients today. Perhaps that was best. But the remainder of June would be pretty slim if some things didn’t come in. While she was making her goal in May, June would be dismal. And what about July? She had the big Horticulture Society end-of-season convention in late August, so that would possibly suffice.
Here she was helping build other businesses up and letting her own slide. As a friend who was also a business owner said, “Feast or famine.” Farmers understand that better than anyone. So far the fields were looking good, but that could change in an instant. She thought back to the Syttende Mai last spring. They’d made it through the festival with all the visitors to Stoughton, and the business it brought in. Everyone enjoyed the celebration of all things Norwegian for which they were famous. She glanced at her calendar. She was on the board and the meeting was next week. She would have children to tend.
Scrubbing her scalp was not sufficient; would hair pulling be any better? Coffee, she needed coffee. But then she’d need more antacids. Somehow herb tea did not sound sufficient. Downstairs she let the animals out; poured herself a glass of lemon and mint-infused water from the jug in the refrigerator door; and, while sipping, started pulling out the Rice Krispies, butter, and marshmallow crème. Steig’
s favorite cookie.
What would they have for supper? Just she and Ken, no kids yet. You forgot to take the hamburger out! Good thing for microwaves. They were having spaghetti tomorrow and the sauce needed to cook all day. Another of Steig’s favorites. So little time to fix special things for her son. Monday he would be gone, and only God and his superiors knew exactly where. But someplace where there was shooting going on. She propped her stiff arms on the counter. Oh Lord, I don’t want him to go! Can’t You do something about this? Which burned worse, the tears or the stomach? She slammed the door to the microwave and stabbed the numbers for defrost.
By the time the pan of Rice Krispies cookies was cooling in the fridge, the spaghetti sauce was simmering on the stove, and the kitchen put back to order, she had let the cat and dog in; answered six texts from her family other than Ken, but who was counting; and it was already after noon. What was happening at the college? Should she call his assistant, Sandy, and ask? Or was she better off not knowing?
She fixed herself a salad with chopped chicken on greens and poured a glass of iced tea. Then with the animals padding beside her, she started up the stairs to her office. Halfway up, she turned around and headed for the porch instead. But she didn’t have her desk calendar in case someone called. They followed her upstairs to retrieve the calendar and followed her back down to the porch. She started to sit down when I need sun sent her out to the deck. Gathering all her necessities took two trips, but when she sank into the lounger after setting the food, etc., on the low table, she leaned back and closed her eyes in relief.
Breathe! She did as ordered. Three times. As ordered.
Hyacinth jumped up and made a nest between her ankles. Ambrose laid his head on her thigh, eyes and wagging tail pleading for attention. She stroked his head and ruffled his ears. “Sorry, no walk today.” He flopped down beside her, a deep sigh causing a niggle of guilt. “Tonight, we’ll walk when Dad gets home.”
While eating her salad, she checked down her to-do list, crossing off what she’d accomplished. What else had to be done? The kids’ room was ready. She still needed to run to the store. The fragrance of cooking spaghetti sauce reminded her to add French bread to the grocery list, along with Popsicles, eggs, and their favorite cereal. (Had Steig allowed the sugary kind? She added one just for good measure.) He’d have boxes from the kitchen most likely and a cooler full of food, too. It wasn’t like they were just coming for the week. He’d said he was pulling a trailer. How big a trailer? They’d have to store stuff in the garage probably. What stuff besides the bikes and kid toys?
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