When the majority was finished eating, only Torin being a slow eater, Marit pushed back her chair and raised her arms. “Okay, enough! We will now have thirty seconds of silence.” Someone snickered, someone else snorted back, and laughter burst all around the table. Even Jakey smiled, almost.
“So much for order.” Magnus had become an expert eye roller since he met Marit.
Mona leaned back in her chair. “Can I get anybody anything?”
“Ice cream?”
Arne’s request spread through the ranks to become an instant chant.
Steig adopted his military voice. “No ice cream until the table is cleared and food put away.” He turned to his mother. “There is ice cream, isn’t there? Otherwise we’ll have to go find some.”
“Is this house ever without ice cream?” Mona smiled at her son, who at times could be the biggest kid of all. Or at least he used to be. Had he lost his exuberant youth in the last year?
“And cookies.” Torin was the quiet one of the bunch, at least so far, but at four he could still do a lot of changing.
Steig stood, Jake still on his arm. “Okay, kids clear the table, dishes in the sink for Grampy to rinse and put in the dishwasher. Moms put the food away, Magnus and Steig go for a walk.”
An instant of silence, and laughter broke out again. “Not fair.”
Steig looked at Magnus. “Sounded like a good idea to me.”
“The dads dish up the ice cream after you heat the hot fudge sauce. And you can’t do that until we have counter space, so…” Mona wiggled her eyebrows at her husband. “Oh and Magnus, please get the ice cream out of the outside freezer so it can soften a bit.”
Ken stood with a groan. “Come on, kiddo.” He prodded Brit on his right. “Now!”
Brit picked up her plate and silverware.
By the time they were ready to dish the ice cream, only one glass had spilled and one plate with food hit the floor. Ambrose leaped to take care of that before Marit could get through the congestion to pick it up.
“Okay, we are eating ice cream either outside or on the porch, take your pick.” Marit held her ice cream scoop like a baton.
Arne, first in line, piped up. “Outside.”
Ken pleaded, “Porch.”
“Okay, kids outside, adults in the porch room.” She and Mona dug into the ice cream, and Ken manned the hot fudge dispensing.
Seated in comfort on the three-season porch, Mona looked at her son, whose shadow had decided to go outside with his sister, Mellie, taking care of him. Steig relaxed into his papasan chair. “Thanks, Mom, Marit, for such a fine meal. Been a while since we had all the fixings.”
“One-dish meals?” Mona asked.
“Yeah, or takeout. Thank God for their sitter, who cooks for us at times.”
“Being a single parent must be the pits.”
“On one hand, but there is no more dissension. That’s worth some nonhealthy meals, not that Angela liked to cook much.”
“You are sure she cannot come after the kids?” Marit asked.
“She can try, but legally she signed herself out. My army lawyer made certain it’s airtight. She doesn’t want them; she made that clear, and that creep of hers made sure of that. She had the choice of him or us, and she chose him.”
“The kids seem content.”
“Mellie never mentions her out loud, and poor little Jakey reverted to babyhood, like needing diapers at night again.” He turned to his mother. “There are night pads in one of the bags so the bed stays dry. The counselor said this was normal; he’d grow out of it soon.”
“So you’ve been working with a counselor?” Ken set his bowl on the coffee table.
“My chaplain. He’s become a good friend and, of course, understands the military. He says to tell you hello and thank you for agreeing to take the kids. I knew I was facing deployment again, but I figured down the road, and if we were all settled up here, the transition wouldn’t be as rough.” He raised and dropped his hands. “World affairs don’t cater to families, that’s for sure.”
“Have you thought of leaving the military?”
“I plan on going the whole route. I love what I do and I’m good at it. And basically, the military has been good to me.”
Just your wife that wasn’t. Mona and Ken exchanged one of their glances. She knew he felt the same way she did. How to keep from hating a woman who would walk off and leave her kids was taking more than she thought it would. God help them if that woman tried to get back into their lives.
“Sometimes forgiveness is an ongoing sacrifice, but I am too aware of how not doing so can destroy your life. I saw it in action.”
“Meaning Angela?” Marit asked.
Steig nodded. “That’s one of the things Roy has been hammering into my head.”
“Roy.” Mona frowned.
“My chaplain. He doesn’t like honorifics like pastor or reverend because not all faiths use them. And he has to serve everybody. He says, ‘Do not let bitterness take root, and not forgiving leads right into bitterness.’” He glanced sideways at his mother. “She hurt my kids.”
“Physically?” Ken asked.
“No, emotionally. Far worse.”
Mona heard the door to the garage open and Ambrose’s nails ticking on the tile. “They’re coming in.”
“Mom?” Brit called. “Torin’s all wet.”
Marit rolled her eyes. “They’re probably all wet.”
Jakey clung to Mellie’s hand. “Daddy, I got wet.”
“What happened?”
“I was filling Ambrose’s water bucket and the hose…”
“Leaped out of your hand and splashed everyone?” Marit stood. “Come on, Magnus, let’s take these three home.”
Jakey whined, “I didn’t mean to.”
“Right. Is the hose still running?” Magnus asked.
“I turned it off.” Arne grinned at his dad, as if he’d saved the day.
Mellie handed her little brother to their father. “He likes the dog now.”
Ambrose shook, splattering water everywhere.
The kids shrieked, the adults laughed, and Steig bent down to pick up his now smiling son.
“I need to warn you, this guy is a water baby, never happier than when he is soaking wet. Mud pies are his specialty.” He poked Jake in the belly. “You like mud, huh?”
Jake nodded. “I am wet.”
“On that note…” Magnus motioned his family toward the garage door and out to the cars parked in the driveway.
“See you tomorrow.” Marit grabbed her purse and the bag with her now clean bowl. “If you need me, call.”
“We’ll be working on all the paperwork in the morning.”
“You want me to come pick up the kids?”
“I’ll call you if need be. I hate…” Steig scrubbed the back of his neck with one hand and sighed. “Time is so short.”
Mona knew he meant his time with his children. “I know. But the official retirement hoopla this Friday won’t last too long. The banquet starts at seven, but we have to be there for the cocktail party before. There’s a table reserved for our family even though Ken has to be at the head table. I thought we could drop the kids off at your house earlier. Let them settle in.”
“Brit thinks she is old enough to attend Grampy’s party.”
Ken chuckled. “I wish she could. I wish they all could. Well, what I really wish is that none of us have to go.”
“You got your tux?” Marit arched her brows.
“Yes.”
Mona smiled at her daughter with a slight nod. They all knew how Ken despised formal anything. She patted her husband’s arm. “You look really handsome all dressed up.”
“I look like an emperor penguin. Feel about as stiff as one.”
“Come on, kids, out.” Magnus herded them out the door.
They waved them off outside the garage and returned to the house, Jake back in his father’s arms. “I’ll get them down, and then we can at least start
.” He headed for the stairs. “Come on, rug rats. Bedtime.” He poked Jakey. “Get you dry.”
“Bath?”
“Not tonight. Looks like you already had one.”
Mona watched them go upstairs. Too soon putting kids to bed would be the grandparents’ job. She should go up, too, so she learned the secrets that would make this easier. Tomorrow. We’ll do that tomorrow night. No, Saturday night. Two nights to get all the details down. The thought of Steig actually leaving hit her in the solar plexus, nearly dropping her to her knees. How would they manage?
Chapter Ten
Dear God, how will we manage without him?
Ken stared at his son, who was pointing out something on the stack of paperwork in answer to Mona’s question. Deployed again. They had thought his last tour in Afghanistan would be his last overseas tour ever. Ken grabbed his mind back from wandering to pay attention to this process that was changing all their lives.
A friend from church had reminded him that God was giving them a chance to make a real difference in the lives of their grandchildren and their son, too. While his head knew that, his mind did not really understand and his heart wanted to scream, Stop, you can’t do this, we can’t do this…Lean not unto your own understanding. He’d been leaning on that verse a lot lately.
Marit, bless her heart, had come and taken the kids back to her house, so quiet reigned in this one. Only on day two and he’d already realized quiet went into hiding when the kids woke up. So much for sleeping in as part of the beginning of his retirement. He’d not planned on that for every day, but some healing time right now would be in good order.
“Okay, Dad, your turn.” Steig pushed the file of papers over to him. “Sign all the places Mom did. Those green flags help.”
“I feel like we’re signing our life away.” He looked up at his son. “I know this is not forever, but…”
“Yeah, the but does us all in. I wish there were some other way, but short of bailing on the army right now, this seems to be it.”
“I know. Life doesn’t always go the way we want. Or plan.” Or dream. Ken signed the first page and flipped on through. Why was it he seemed more concerned about problems with Angela rather than Steig in a land of flying bullets and exploding shells and bombs? Not that he’d voiced either. Steig had no other answers, nor did Mona.
“Iced tea anyone?” Mona pushed her chair back from the kitchen table.
“I’ll take coffee if it’s made,” Steig said.
“Ken?”
“Iced tea.” At least the stack was diminishing. “We have to get all this notarized?”
“Yes, so we all need to go.” Steig checked his watch. “What time do you need to be all gigged out and at the college?”
“Five. For the cocktail party.” He rolled his eyes. If he had his way, he’d leave for the North Shore tonight. “I need to be at a staff lunch at twelve thirty.”
“Then we better hustle. I’ll explain the medical stuff later.”
They took two cars so Ken could drive to Madison for the celebratory lunch. “Like I want to do this,” he muttered as he backed into the turnaround.
“Just get through it is my motto for the day.” Mona leaned her head against the seat. “One step at a time.” She reached over and patted his thigh. “Try to enjoy all the festivities. After all, they are honoring you and all your years of helping thousands of students get into and out of college with degrees in hand and a better future. Ken, you have made such a difference in so many lives. Keep that in mind rather than all this garbage of the last week.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know you are. It’ll all work out.”
He flashed her the best smile he could generate at the moment. It wasn’t much.
Ken was surprised that notarization did not take long. The bank manager, Emma, laid out all the papers on a long table behind the bank counter and mass notarized them, pointing to where their signatures went and using a stamp instead of the old embosser Ken remembered. She recorded them by hand in a logbook. Done.
As they left the notary, Steig said, “I promised the kids we’d go up to the park this afternoon, so I’ll drop you off at home, Mom.” He gave his father a surprise hug. “You’re going to do fine tonight.”
Ken hugged his son back. “I’d rather be fishing.”
Steig grinned. “I know. I’m just glad the rest of us are not required to wear a monkey suit to this gig tonight.”
“No worse than a full-dress uniform.”
“True.” Steig smirked. “Not! You don’t look like a penguin in class As.”
Perhaps all the mayhem of getting ready kept him from worrying about the evening, but once he and Mona were in the car driving north, he felt like he was halfway through a marathon, not that he had ever been a marathon runner, but he’d talked with a lot who were. Soon he would be in the homestretch.
Put the last week behind you, he ordered himself as they entered the VIP party. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. Tonight he would celebrate. He patted Mona’s hand on his arm and squeezed it against his side.
“We’ll get through,” she whispered. “I’m praying for you.”
He smiled. “You know me all too well. These people think this is the end. But thanks to that injunction, I’ll be back at it Monday, the last hurrah.”
“Slaying dragons?”
“Perhaps. There are some dragons out there just begging to be slain.”
Other than wanting to wipe his hand on his pant leg after shaking John’s and Dale’s, he still had his smile in place by the time the crowd began to thin. Wallaver in physics left early; he always left early, but at least he showed up. There was Merril Stark from geology. He had to be nearing retirement. Smartest man in Wisconsin and deaf as a post. Harlan Norlun, professor of linguistics, was surely close to retirement, too. He stood in the corner with a cocktail in his hand, schmoozing a woman. Some people never change.
Ken’s eyes got hot after a few comments, and he realized he would indeed miss some of these people—Harlan, Merril, Chet, Jonah. People he worked with, tussled with, helped out over the years. Thirty years was a long time of friend building. Not that he’d never see them again, but everyone knew it would not be the same.
“We should have worn our bunads,” Mona said as they followed the crowd from the cocktail party to the banquet room for dinner.
He chuckled. “Yes, that would have been fun. But warm as it is tonight…”
“Your bunad would not have been hotter than a tux.”
“But yours would have, all those petticoats and the heavy woolen waistcoat.”
They had both purchased their Norwegian bunads when they visited Norway ten years earlier, went whole hog, and got the especially fancy festival outfits. Each different area of Norway had its own color and design of festal wear. Of course, Ken had carefully worked out exactly where his branch of the Sorensons came from, so that they might have properly authentic bunads.
The truth be told, in the beginning he had fought the idea of getting one, but Mona insisted, and she had been right, as usual. Since Stoughton had such a plethora of Norwegian celebrations, they wore them much more than he had thought they would. As active as they were in the Sons of Norway lodge and on the various boards for celebrations, Mona had sewn simplified bunads for Marit and Steig when they were growing up, and now she was outfitting the grandchildren as well.
“We need to get a picture of our whole family in bunads.” She didn’t add before Steig leaves, but the phrase was glaringly there. It ended so many things said these last few days.
He pulled into valet parking, and the young man gave Mona a hand out of the car.
“Congratulations, Mr. Sorenson, I hope you have a grand evening.” The young man paused. “Thank you again for helping me get through that freshman year.” Most of those on the valet parking staffs throughout the area were university students earning pocket money.
“You are welcome, Jeb.” Good thing the lad was we
aring a name tag. While Ken recognized the face, names were not so easy. “Keep up the good work.” Ken held his arm out for Mona.
“See, I told you,” she whispered as they traversed the walk to the entrance.
A threefold collage with pictures of his years at the school greeted them when they entered, with Sandy on hand inviting people to sign the guest register. “Looks like it’s going to be standing room only,” she said with a wide smile.
Ken nodded toward the collage. “You did that?”
“Well, a lot of us worked together. I got as many students and former students in on it as I could. You’d be surprised how many of them couldn’t come because they’re in the field collecting data for their doctoral dissertations. No, I guess you wouldn’t be surprised.”
A curved-top wooden chest on the table in front of the collage said CARDS.
Ken smiled and gently ran his fingers across the lid. Smooth, perfectly shaped. “Who made the chest?”
“Head of the art department—what’s his name, Brian Vigness,” Sandy replied. “He’s a woodworker, too, you know. I know you always dreamed of taking up woodworking when you retired. Old Mrs. Lund from home ec did the rosemaling. She’s in a nursing home now, but she insisted she was going to do this for you. And she’s obviously still the best there is. We wanted something that would last for you and have meaning.”
“It certainly does.” Ken turned to Mona. “Did you know about this?”
“The collage, but not the chest. That is really beautiful.”
“Enjoy your evening, sir,” Sandy said as she greeted another couple. Her grin took any sarcasm out of the sir.
A six-piece string ensemble played light classical music. A few were seated already, and the room was rapidly filling. He heard someone mention they would open the doors to the extensions when the program began, as there had been too many requests for dinner tickets to fill them all. Someone was beckoning him toward the front, but everyone wanted to shake his hand and share some memory, so it took a while. He left Mona at the family table right in front of the head table, stepped up onto a low dais, and slowly made his way around to the step. When he looked back, Steig, Marit, and Magnus had joined some friends with Mona.
The Second Half Page 9