He nodded and lurched erect. “I’m going to fix coffee. You want some?”
“Too late, I’d never sleep.” She paused in her busyness to gnaw on a cuticle.
Ken turned toward the kitchen, then turned back. “You know, I’ve noticed that when you chew your cuticles, it’s usually a sign of you feeling overloaded. That concerns me because it’s opening the doors for depression to sneak back in.”
“I’ve been doing better since the antidepressants kicked in.”
“True, but sometimes you’ll go gung ho on a big project like this and then collapse when it’s done. You know, post-project letdown. I get it all the time.”
“I’ll keep an eye on it, all right?” She tried to sound cheerful, but his comments irritated her. She knew all about it. A couple times the big D, as they called it, had blindsided her. No one could figure out what triggered it, and that was the fear.
He left. He returned. He snickered. “I was going to ask you from out in the kitchen, but as I opened my mouth, I remembered the children. I suppose they are sleeping. Would you like herb tea?”
She smiled. Let sleeping dogs lie. He had a point; this continual childcare was going to take getting used to in ways she’d never thought of. “Yes, please, that would be lovely. How about the peach? Oh, and I think I will move out to the family room.” She scooped up her work and went out to the three-season room, settled into the papasan chair, and went back to making notes on one of those yellow pads that she bought by the case.
He disappeared into the kitchen. Back he came. “I’m having ice cream; you want some?”
“Make it a small bowl, please, not your normal size.”
“Chocolate syrup?”
She leaned her head back against the padding, feeling weary. “Yes, but I better not. The last few days have not been good to my diet. Oh, go ahead. Thank you.”
She could almost read his mind when he glanced down his front. No paunch, but since the gym he usually went to was near the university, he wouldn’t be going there anymore. He should probably be a bit careful, too. “I’ll think about diet tomorrow.”
“Or next week, Scarlett?”
She returned to her notes, hoping he would get the hint and let her work. She could go back to her office, but she liked his company and the songs of the crickets and frogs. Especially now that the children were in bed, hopefully to sleep all night, the house was quiet. The teasing made her want to see Gone with the Wind again. She closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair. How many years since she had read the book? She remembered that she had read it at least three times, maybe more. They would definitely have to watch the movie again. She looked up with a smile as Ken set her sundae on the table beside her. “Thank you.”
He settled into his chair with a sigh. Hyacinth jumped up in his lap and Ambrose settled down beside him. “Thanks, guys; I know you think you’ll get some, but not until I’m done.”
“This is good. Thanks.” Fudge syrup over peppermint chip ice cream. “Good idea.” She studied her notes for the preschool presentation while she ate. Surely she could handle it all; the trick would be to not take on other jobs until this was completed. She picked up her Day-Timer calendar and flipped through the months ahead, counting her other jobs first. Four for sure and two maybes. One was a yearly thing she’d been doing for the last three years. Piece of cake. She set her ice cream bowl on her lap, and Hyacinth immediately changed allegiances, landing on her extended legs with perfectly sheathed claws. “Good girl. Have at it.” She had really cleaned up the chocolate syrup so it would be safe for the critters.
“We didn’t go for a walk today, either.” Ken paused his spoon. “I was planning on it.” Ambrose perked his ears at the word walk. “Nope, sorry, fella, not tonight.”
“Mellie’s birthday is next week. Shall we do her party here or at the park?”
“Here, I’m into easy right now. It’ll just be us and Marit’s bunch, right?”
“What do you think of hiring a blow-up jumping thing?”
“I think that is a totally unnecessary expense. Remember, I’m not getting a paycheck anymore, and it’ll take a bit for my retirement to kick in and I won’t get Social Security for another year and a half.”
“The thought of going on a budget is not exciting.”
“I know, but you agreed.” Ken had always been the money manager in their house, and while he was not stingy or tight, he referred to himself as inordinately frugal. “I’ll get one together, and we’ll go over it. I sort of had one, but things like groceries and gas will probably change, along with the electric bill.”
“Steig said to use part of his money for food and living expenses, remember?”
“I know, but…”
Mona waited before asking, “But what?” She pretty much figured what he would say, saving for an emergency.
“I want to put part of that income into a savings account for them, and we have to keep a backup plan for emergencies.”
“There is already an account started with automatic deductions, did you forget that?”
“That’s for their school expenses.”
“Since most of his wages are going into the bank, with no other expenses like house and car and such, I don’t see what the concern is.”
“He’ll need money saved up for when he gets home for housing and all the rest of daily life. I’ve been thinking of putting his SUV into storage.”
“Really? Why? We can park it in the garage.”
“For now, but when winter comes, we are going to want both our cars in there.”
“True. You sure are thinking ahead, not that I’m surprised.” She stroked the cat, the purr motor starting immediately. “My big concern right now is getting Jakey to accept the cat. Not fair to her to banish her outside or in the garage so much.”
“I figure he’ll relax just by having her around. Mellie is working on this, too. After all, it’s only been two days since Steig left.” He stood and picked up their bowls. “I forgot to make the tea.”
“That’s okay.” Mona tried to stifle a yawn but failed. “I’m ready for bed.”
“I think I’ll work on the books for a while. You go ahead. Perhaps I could sleep in tomorrow. That was one of the things on my list to do in retirement.”
Mona snorted. “Longtime habits are hard to break.”
She gathered her things, left them on the desk, and slogged upstairs. One of the signs of depression is excessive weariness, and here she was, so weary she couldn’t think. That worried her a lot. Worry. Give it to God and quit worrying! But she worried anyway. She couldn’t help it.
She prepared for bed and crawled under the covers. And lay there. She was weary and yet not sleepy. That was mighty dumb. But…
Mellie was yelling, “Jakey, no! Stop it!” Jakey was yelling, “You stop it! I want Daddy! Stop it!”
Mona leaped up and ran out into the hall just as Ken came bounding up the stairs. Together they rushed into the children’s room.
Mellie had grabbed Jakey by two handfuls of pajamas and was shaking him violently as she screamed, “Stop! Stop!” And Jakey was yelling just as uncontrollably. Ken wrapped his arms around Mellie and dragged her backward. She started to pull Jakey out of the bed, but Mona grabbed him and drew him in against her, breaking Mellie’s grip. Shocked beyond words, Mona flopped to sitting on the foot of Jakey’s bed, pulled him into her lap, and wrapped her arms around him. He sobbed wildly, loudly. “I want my daddy!”
Ken was just as tightly wrapped around Mellie. He turned around and sat at the head of Jakey’s bed, pulling her in against him, pressing her head to his chest with his free hand. She was vibrating, shaking. Mona watched her contorted face for some clue; she could see none. Mona rocked gently back and forth, trying to soothe Jakey and feeling so totally helpless.
It took long minutes for the children to quiet down to simple sobbing.
Ken drew a deep breath. “Mellie? What was going on? What happened?”
She
hiccuped and sobbed. “I don’t know how to say it.”
“Okay.” Ken sounded so calm. “Can you tell me what you’re thinking?”
Another shuddering sob. “It’s Jakey’s fault. He ruined everything. Now he’s gonna ruin it again.”
“How so?” Ken’s voice was so gentle, quiet.
Mellie just sat there a moment. “He made Mommy leave, and he doesn’t understand. Now he’s going to make you leave.”
“Whoa. I’m the one who doesn’t understand. Can you explain it?”
A few more sobs and a sigh. She licked her lips. “Mommy told us she couldn’t stand us little kids anymore and she was leaving. When I asked her why, she said that; she can’t stand us. But Grampy, I was being really, really perfect. I tried very hard, and I was really perfect. Jakey was the naughty one. Jakey made her leave by being naughty.”
Mona gaped. What mother could ever tell her children that?
Ken purred, “I see. And you are afraid that Grammy and I might leave.”
“Mommy left. Daddy left. We don’t have anyone, and when you can’t stand us anymore, you’ll leave.”
Ken nodded slowly. “Perfectly logical.” He unwrapped his arms from around Mellie, sat her upright, and took the sides of her head in both hands. He aimed her face straight at his and looked her right in the eye. “It’s logical; it’s a pretty good deduction, in fact. But Mellie, it’s completely wrong. Your daddy has to do what the army tells him to do. It’s called military discipline. But Grammy and I will not leave you. Do you hear me?”
Mellie shuddered another elephant-sized sob, but she was looking at him.
Ken repeated, separating each word, “We will not abandon you. We love you and Jakey, and we will not leave you or let you come to harm. You are safe here until your father returns.”
“But Jakey…”
“Jakey is a very small boy being a very small boy, just like his father when he was growing up. There will never be a day we can’t stand him or you, and you are safe here.” He took his hands away from her head. “Do you understand?”
“Mommy said…” Another sigh. “Never?”
“Never. Now. Why were you yelling at Jakey and shaking him?”
“He was crying and saying he wanted his daddy, and he didn’t like this bed, he wanted his own bed, and I was afraid he’d wake you up and you’d be mad.”
“Ah.” Ken drew her into another hug. “Thank you for thinking of us, but from now on, remember, when you or Jakey need something, we don’t mind waking up. In fact, come get us. And please don’t shake him anymore. That’s as bad as hitting.”
“But he won’t behave.”
“That’s our problem. And we will never leave you or stop loving you.”
Mona felt completely drained. Sick. Actually sick. Horrified. Would these children be warped forever by their mother’s cruelty?
Jakey twisted around to look at her. “Is it Thursday yet?”
Finally, finally, Thursday evening arrived. Ken, Mona, and the children waited eagerly for Steig to call. Marit came over at nine, leaving Magnus and the kids at home.
They sat. And waited.
“How did that meeting with the school people go today?” Ken asked.
“Very well. I think I have the project. And they seem very cooperative. Eager.”
Marit frowned. “Is this Carole Bergstrund’s board?”
“You know about that project?”
“I teach special-needs kids, remember? Everyone in the school knows about it. Mom, are you going to handle that okay with two little ones?”
“Your father asked the same thing. Why? Are you worried?”
“Just asking.”
They sat. And waited.
“Can we have ice cream afterward?” Jakey asked.
Mona smiled. “I think that can be arranged. We’ll celebrate.”
They sat. And waited.
Marit finally said, “It’s past ten. I’d better go home. Let me know, will you?”
“Of course.”
“Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring” began to play, Ken’s cell. “Hello? Oh, hi Bert. No, why?” He frowned and sat back to listen, grunting now and then.
“Maybe we can have ice cream tomorrow night. Time for bed.” Mona stood up and motioned to the children. She herded them upstairs to the bathroom. She slipped Jakey’s clothes off and shook out a fresh night diaper.
“Don’t want to wear those anymore!” Jake pushed them away.
“I don’t blame you, but…” Mona paused. “I know. When you wake up dry three mornings in a row, we can put them away. But you have to be good about putting them on between now and then.”
“Why didn’t Daddy Skype tonight?” Mellie looked up at her grandmother with sad eyes about to brim over.
“Wherever he is, he is in a different time zone than we are, and that might be causing problems.”
“A time zone? Like when it’s later at Virginia Beach than it is here, so we can’t call Daddy’s friend Edward?”
“Yes, military people go all over the world. Tomorrow we’ll have to get a world map out and talk about time zones. Perhaps we should go shopping for a globe.”
Usually the idea of shopping perked Mellie right up. Not tonight.
“I hate the military,” she muttered.
“I understand, darling girl, but your daddy is proud to serve our country in the military, and we are proud of him. That is what he has chosen for a career, and he is very, very good at what he does. We just need to pray that God will keep him safe. Perhaps he’ll be able to Skype tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow can we write him a letter?”
“We most certainly will.” Mona wrapped an arm around her granddaughter and rested her cheek on her head.
“If he Skypes after I go to sleep, will you wake me up?”
“Of course we will, and we’ll keep the laptop right by the bed—just in case”
Ken was off the phone when Mona came back downstairs. “Lodge troubles?”
“Yes. Bert wants a meeting tomorrow evening to work out some financial problems.”
“You want a cup of tea or coffee or iced tea?”
“I guess.” He scrubbed both hands over his head. “I think I want out of this job, too.”
“Lodge elections won’t be until fall. You’ve been the lodge treasurer for how many years?”
“More than I care to count.”
“You could probably ask to be released, but why?”
“I guess I’m feeling the pressure here. I’ll be fine in the morning.”
From upstairs came that now-familiar wail.
Ken sighed as he stood. “I can’t wait till he grows up.”
Friday at noon, Mona got out of the car as the children tumbled out and ran into the kitchen. She lifted their parcels out of the trunk and followed them in. “The shoppers return!”
Smiling, Ken met them at the kitchen table. “What treasures do you bring?”
Mellie dug into a bag. “I got a new bathing suit. The one from last year is too short.”
“Look, Grampy. Look. Look.” Jakey found his package, a set of Legos with which to build an airplane. “Look.”
“That’s going to be a lot of fun, Jakey.”
“And we got this.” Mona set a twelve-inch globe on the counter.
“This is excellent! It has a time indicator up at the top here, where the Arctic is. Look, Mellie, now we can find out what time it is where your daddy is stationed.”
She scowled at the globe.
Ken gave it a twirl. “Here is North America, and here is the United States. Wisconsin is right here, see? So we’ll follow this longitude line up until we can set the time indicator to nine at night. Now we find Pakistan, which is…” He turned it to the Indian subcontinent. “…Right here. What does the time indicator say?”
Mellie climbed up on a stool to read it better. “Seven. No, eight. In between.”
“Seven thirty. And the indicator is white, meaning daytime.”
>
She sat back. “So if he calls at seven thirty in the morning, he talks to us at nine, bedtime?”
“Exactly.”
“Maybe he doesn’t know that, and he calls at the wrong time.”
“That’s possible, but I’m pretty sure he knows. He’s traveled a lot.”
“Grammy, did you know that?”
“I knew there’s a big time difference; he’s almost halfway around the world.”
Mellie laid a finger on Pakistan and rotated the globe slowly, seeking Wisconsin. She found it, too. Steig’s daughter was one smart girl. Her face melted into a sad, sad look. “That’s so far.” She murmured, “So far,” and slogged off upstairs.
Friday night passed with no word, as did Saturday. Marit took all the kids to the community swimming pool, and the first thing Mellie asked when she came through the door: “Have we heard from Daddy?”
“No, but I don’t expect to during the day. Maybe tonight.”
“Oh.”
“You want to help me make supper?”
She shook her head and made her way upstairs, as if climbing them took all her strength.
Jake clambered up on a kitchen stool. “Can I help?”
“Maybe you and Grampy can set the table.” She glanced at Ken to see him shrug.
“You need us right away? I was hoping to set up the watering in the garden. If we don’t get some rain pretty soon…” He tousled Jake’s hair. “Come on, buddy, we need to find some stuff in the garage.”
“We could go find worms and go fishing.”
“I think maybe we could do that; how about off the dock?”
Jakey grinned, near to splitting his face. “Maybe Mellie wants to go fishing, too.”
“Maybe she would. Come on, let’s dig out the sprinklers first.”
As Mona slid the homemade macaroni and cheese in the oven, she heard a door slam upstairs. Mellie did not slam doors. Mona made her way up the stairs. When she stepped into the room, she sucked in a breath of shock. Every game piece from all the games on the shelf were strewn about the room. Oh Lord, give me wisdom. Had she been younger, she might have been furious, but now all she could do was try to stop the tears.
The Second Half Page 14