The Second Half

by Lauraine Snelling

  Jakey climbed up in Ken’s lap. “I want to see Daddy.” His forlorn little voice made Mona fight back the tears. She looked at Ken, and he half shrugged, his eyes as sad as she knew hers must be.

  Ken cuddled the little boy into his chest. “He would if he could. I know he is even more sad than we are.”

  Mona laid her cheek on the top of Mellie’s head. How to make two children understand something adults had a hard time with? She wished she were in the rocking chair. Cuddling was more comforting in the rocker. Her mind flipped back to when her own two were little kids. Marit loved to cuddle in the rocking chair and be read to. Steig had a harder time sitting still, even when he was so tired his eyelids fluttered. He was so afraid he might miss out on something.

  “How about we skip baths tonight and get into our jammies for Grampy to read to us?”

  Jakey scrambled off Grampy’s lap. “Whoo-hoo, no bath. ’Mon, Mellie. Hurry up!” He headed for the stairs.

  “You need help?” Ken asked.

  “Grrrrr-aaaaaam-pyyyyyy.” Three syllables said in unison.

  Mona and Ken rolled their eyes and shrugged at each other. “We better get ours on.”

  A few minutes later, they were gathered back on the leather sofa, animals at their feet as if ready to listen, too. Mona looked from Hyacinth to Jakey, who was snuggled under Ken’s arm, totally oblivious to the cat.

  Jakey pointed to the bookmark. “Grammy marked it.”

  “Well, I’ll be flummoxed; she did, didn’t she?”

  Mellie jerked upright and stared at his face. “What does fl-fl- mean?”

  “Flummoxed means, ah…” He looked at Mona. “You’re the word person.”

  “You’re the one with the PhD. But it means, ah, surprised, shocked, amazed, overwhelmed.” She almost shook her head, her grin inviting one in return.

  “See, Grammy is right. All of those things.”

  “Then why didn’t you say so?”

  “Because flummoxed is a fun word. Say it.”

  Dutifully the children did as he asked. Jakey giggled. “There’s an ox in it.”

  “You’re right! Smart kid.” Grampy and Jakey high-fived.

  “Can we read the story now?”

  “We most certainly can.” Ken flipped open the book. Mona picked up her crocheting, and they all lost themselves in the spider and the pig story, as Mellie called it.

  Later, after the children were tucked in bed and prayers said, Mellie clung to Mona’s hand. “If Daddy Skypes or calls, you will wake me up, won’t you? Please? Anytime, not just on Thursday.”

  “Me, too,” Jakey said sleepily.

  “Of course.” Mona and Ken both nodded and gently closed the door, leaving it open a crack, guiding the animals with them.

  At the breakfast table in the morning, after a cereal discussion, Mona looked at Mellie and asked, “Since your birthday is coming up soon…”

  “Friday.”

  “I know. What I want to know is what you would like to do for your birthday.”

  “See my daddy.”

  “Oh, honey, I know that, but we have no control…”

  “I know, but Grammy, I want to see him so bad.”

  “Me, too.”

  Ken raised his hands in a time-out T. “Okay, before we have a big crying time, let’s think of party ideas. Is there something special you would like to do?”

  “Ride a pony.”

  “Our friends had ponies and horses, and we got to go see them lots of times.” Jakey held up all ten fingers.

  “Half of Texas has horses, but here in Wisconsin, it’s a bit different.” Ken looked at Mona. “Didn’t you plan a children’s party once, and someone brought in a pony for the kids to ride?”

  Mona nodded. “I did and I will most certainly look into that. At that party, the farm owner brought the pony to the party, but usually the party has to go to the farm. Seems to me that the farmer raised ponies, and it’s spring, so perhaps they might even have a colt or two.”

  Mellie’s eyes shone. “Baby ponies are so cute.” She flew off her chair and threw herself at Mona. “Oh, Grammy. That would be fantastical.”

  Mona hugged her back, her heart twanging from this little girl using a word her daddy had adopted when he was this age. “Okay, I’ll see about Saturday so your cousins can come, too. But your birthday is on Friday, and you get to choose the menu for supper. Anything you want.”

  Mellie stared up at her, obviously thinking hard. Index finger on her chin, she chewed on her bottom lip. “Cake, chocolate cake and ice cream.”

  “What kind?” Ken asked, fishing his singing phone off his belt.

  Mellie decided. “Strawberry, that’s good with chocolate cake.”

  “Okay, that’s the dessert, what for the meal?”

  “Hot dogs!” Jakey jumped in.

  “No! This is my birthday. You can choose hot dogs for your own.”

  Ken dropped his napkin on the table as he stood up. “That was Sandy; she needs some help again.”

  “Oh, rats, I was hoping you and the kids could work outside so I could get some of my work done.”

  “We can watch a movie,” Mellie suggested.

  “Nemo! We want Nemo!” Jakey beat a tattoo on the chair legs with his shoes.

  “No! Not Nemo,” Mellie snapped. “I want Frozen. You can be the monster.”

  “I am the shark!” He bared his teeth and growled.

  Ken dropped a kiss on Mona’s forehead. “I’ll call you as soon as I have an ETA for home. Come on, you two, give Grampy a kiss. And you do what Grammy asks.” He looked directly at Jakey. “Without arguing.” The kids followed him to the door, tailed by the dog and cat. They waved him good-bye and returned to the table, where Mona was making a list.

  “How about you clear the table, Jake? Mellie, you put the food away, while I get something out for supper. Any suggestions?” Cooking was not the problem. Always trying to decide what to make—now that was the struggle.

  “Hot dogs.”

  Mellie poked her brother and shook her head.

  “For dinner then?” He looked at Mona with puppy dog eyes, as if he would just die for hot dogs.

  “Why not?”

  “He always wants hot dogs,” Mellie said with a long-suffering sigh.

  “He can have hot dogs, and you and I can have something else, you know.”

  “Really? We had hot dogs lots with Daddy.”

  “I know, your daddy has always loved hot dogs. Come on, Jake, let’s get the table cleared. What is that cereal bowl doing on the floor?”

  Ambrose sat down, tail feathering the floor, and licked his chops.

  Jake picked up the bowl. “See, it’s all clean now.”

  “Ah, sorry, Jake, Ambrose and Hyacinth do not eat from our dishes.”

  “But he was hungry.”

  “Ambrose had his breakfast earlier. He will always eat whatever we give him, but people food is not always good for dogs.”

  Jake stared at the bowl. “Not even milk and cereal?”

  “Dog food is best.”

  “Dog food is icky.” He set the bowl on the counter.

  Mellie turned from putting the jam and the milk in the refrigerator to ask, “How do you know?”

  “I ate one.”

  “Jakey!” Mother Mellie barked.

  “Only one, it was icky.”

  Oh, good grief, how do I keep up with him? “Don’t eat any more, you got that?”

  “I won’t.” He dropped the last of the silverware into the sink. “Can we watch the movie now?”

  “Beds first and pick up your room. Any toys out in the family room? I’ll wipe the table off while you get started.”

  A couple of minutes later, she peeked in their room. Mellie was at the head of her upper bunk bed, pulling up the covers; Jake was sitting on the floor putting a Lego man of some sort together, bed all rumpled.

  “Okay, Jake boy, I’ll help you one more time. You have to fix your bed.”

  “I d
id.”

  “Let’s try again, a little bit harder. Pick up the Legos and…”

  “Don’t wanna do the bed. It’s too hard.”

  Mona sighed. “Well, you must try.”

  He got up, tugged on the blanket, and sat down again with his Legos. “Can’t.”

  Making a bunk bed was not easy, Mona would agree. If only there was space in the room so he could get on the other side. Could they make do for a full year? Mellie should have a room of her own. That meant moving out of her office; that used to be Marit’s room. For short-time stays, the one bedroom was fine, but long term, like this?

  “I’ll help you, baby.” Mellie used her big sister tone.

  “Not a baby,” Jakey yelled back at her.

  “Are, too, baby, baby.” The singsong would make anyone yell.

  Mona barked, “Mellie, that’s enough.”

  “Well, he is, can’t even fix his own bed.”

  “He has to learn how.”

  “Andy always fixed my bed. I like Andy.” Jakey tugged at a corner of his blanket.

  “Who is Andy?” Mona helped him pull the sheet up. “Now you do the comforter.”

  “Our babysitter most of the time.”

  “Oh, Andrea?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, beds are made. Now finish putting your toys away.”

  Jakey growled, “Don’t want to put them away,” his lip sticking out.

  Mellie shoved her books onto the shelf. “The rest are Jake’s.”

  “You have until I get my bed made to get them put away.” Mona left the room. She continued ruminating on the room situation as she did her bed and picked up the bathroom. She had told Steig to put the kids’ beds into storage because they had the bunk beds here. Good thing that bed could be taken apart for two singles. She and Mellie could go pick out new bedding. Or was there some in those black garbage bags waiting in the corner of the closet?

  Jakey was still sitting there, surrounded by Legos, when she returned.

  “I told him to, but he wouldn’t listen to me.” Mellie had taken a chapter book up to the bed and lay on her stomach reading.

  “You two want Nemo on now?”

  Mellie shook her head. “I’d rather read.”

  “I want Nemo.” Jakey hopped up.

  “But you can’t come down and watch movies until the Legos are put away.”

  “Don’t wanna put them away!” There was that lip again.

  “Your choice. Come downstairs when they’re back in their bin.”

  Mona went to her office. Could she get anything done? Maybe.

  A few minutes later she heard music in the living room and went down there. Jakey had Nemo up and running. Mona silently envied the ease with which small children could adapt to electronics. Mona was not adapting gracefully. “Oh, good. So the Legos are put away.”

  Jakey, on his tummy on the floor, was obviously too wrapped up in the opening credits to respond.

  Mona jogged upstairs and checked; she came back down. “Go put your Legos away, Jakey.”

  “I don’t wanna.”

  Mona desperately needed Ken now, but he was busy at the university. So much for retirement, she thought. Very well. Punishing the punching bag surely made her strong enough for this. She knelt beside Jakey, scooped her arms around him, and stood up, hanging on to him.

  He squirmed and shrieked, “No! I don’t wanna!”

  She hauled him upstairs, afraid that any second he would pull her off-balance, even though she gripped the handrail, and they both would tumble. She put him down in the middle of his Legos.

  He twisted to his feet and started to bolt for the door, but she caught him by an arm. She gripped it like King Kong gripped Fay Wray. “Don’t. Even. Think. About it. When the Legos are put away, you can come down. I’ll leave Nemo on for you.”

  “I hate you! You’re mean!”

  Mona kept her voice soft and even, although his words pierced her right to the soul. “Hate me if you want. But you must learn to cooperate. I love you, Jakey.” She left, his mournful wail ripping her heart apart.

  The door opened; she poised to grab, but it was Mellie. “I can’t read with all that howling. Can I lay on your bed?”

  “You may. I’m going to work in my office for a while.”

  “’Kay.”

  Mona started at the top of the calls list. The first was from Carole Bergstrund regarding the preschool project. Ken’s words nagged in her mind. He’d not made comments about the projects she’d been hired to do before. But then, as he said, they’d not had two small children in the house before, and this one would take up a lot of time, more so the closer to the opening date. Lord, what would You have me do? No answer, no indication.

  Shouldn’t she be cutting poor Jakey some slack? The child had been through so much, and she was just making his situation worse. Was there some other way she could resolve the issue? And she should do it herself rather than hand it to Ken. She had never been a just-wait-until-your-father-gets-home kind of mother.

  Look, her worrying was already interfering with her business. Cut it out, Mona! Get your mind back on your work! She dialed Carole’s number.

  Carole answered on the first ring. “Oh, good! I got hold of you just in time. We have an emergency meeting this afternoon that you really ought to be part of. It concerns financing. Try to get to the Stoughton Library at one.”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t do that.” She could not expect Ken home for several hours yet.

  “But we need your input. Whatever else you’re doing can wait.”

  “No, I cannot leave the house for several hours yet. I’m sorry.”

  “We’ll pay you, of course.”

  “It is not a matter of money. I cannot.”

  “Very well. Have a good day.” She hung up. She sounded kind of huffy.

  Why could Mona not bear to say, “I have my grandkids here and cannot come?” But she couldn’t. Just when she thought she knew herself, some new quirk showed up.

  On the one hand, she deeply regretted that this might make her lose the account. On the other hand, it really irked her that Carole assumed she could just drop everything and go. If that was the way the whole account was going to go, she didn’t want it. Even without Jakey and Mellie, she could not always simply drop what she was doing and run.

  Lord, I’m feeling so torn and buried. Please help me make sense of this strange new life I fell into. And I beg You, don’t let me fall into depression again.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ken finished shaving and toweled his face. Monday morning. Except for keeping two lost little children from fighting and/or killing each other, he didn’t have much to do today. A day to himself, more or less? How novel. He slipped into a pocket tee and headed downstairs.

  The phone rang as he entered the kitchen. He saw Mona at the stove doing breakfast sorts of things. “I’ll get it.” He picked up the receiver. “Sorenson residence.”

  “Ken, Sandy. John just called a finance meeting, and Dale has a big sheaf of papers. I feel trouble brewing.”

  “I agree. I’m leaving right now.” He replaced the receiver. “Mona, there’s an emergency at the university. I have to run; I’ll get something later.”

  “Oh, dear!” She wheeled. “Anything dangerous, did anyone get hurt?”

  “Not physically. Financially, very dangerous.”

  “Financially…” She looked just plain peeved. “Again? You’re supposed to be retired, remember? Breakfast is almost ready. You can at least eat first.”

  “No. I’m sorry. I’ll call later.” He hustled out the door as she was shouting his name, spreading it into two syllables—“Ke-en”—like the kids. She was not pleased.

  Neither was he. Sandy hadn’t said so specifically, but it was obvious that she, the dean of students, had not been invited to this meeting. Not only was it a major breach of etiquette, but also it was a breach of ethics.

  Traffic was heavy already today. It was as bad as living i
n a city. Well, probably not, but it was irritating. He could drive only as fast as the car in front of him, and that was five miles under the limit. The traffic was getting on his nerves big-time. Ken, you can’t think quickly unless your nerves are settled; you know that. He must get himself under complete control now.

  Breach of ethics. Hm. That might be a good weapon to use if they did anything underhanded with the budget. All the deans were supposed to be participating, and if they left Sandy out of it, that might be cause for protest, perhaps even a suit. The first suit Ken filed made them sit up and take notice.

  Here was another possibility. If they excluded Sandy, he might put Gerald Leach, their lawyer, on permanent retainer, and he could represent the dean of students. They might not think Sandy should be there, but they didn’t dare exclude her lawyer.

  That would cost a pretty penny, but…

  Traffic ground to a standstill. Of all the times…

  Where was the closest place to get off this road and onto back roads? Ken knew them all; in fact, at this time of morning, he probably should have gotten off I-39 to start with. He mentally kicked himself for not doing so. He was going to have to get his brain back into university mode and fast. Traffic began moving again, inching along, a lethargic caterpillar on tranquilizers. He finally reached an exit and scooted off, one in a long line of cars who had the same idea in mind. He arrived in the visitor parking lot forty-five minutes later than normal traffic would have allowed.

  He was frustrated, angry, and that would not do. Get hold of yourself, Ken! He parked in one of the very few slots left and laid his permanent parking pass on the dash.

  Where was the meeting? He had no idea, so he headed for Sandy’s office. It was locked.

  Should he wait, or should he prowl until he found the meeting place?

  It was probably the Stone Room upstairs. Barge in; that would be a nice surprise.

  He couldn’t see the elevator from here, but he knew the long, heavy sigh when the doors slid open. A moment later, Sandy came around the corner.

  She said nothing. He said nothing. She unlocked the door, and he followed her inside, closing it behind him. She flopped into the desk chair, so he took the side chair; the wingback was just as comfortable as his desk chair. Former desk chair.