The Second Half

by Lauraine Snelling

  Mona asked, “How many more to go?”

  He counted from one to six carefully out loud. “Six.”

  “Good job.” She glanced over to Ken in the doorway. “Mellie just flew through here out to the garage, saying something about a bike ride. Care to fill me in?”

  He explained the conversation.

  Jake let out a whoop and his half-peeled potato splashed more water on the floor. “I want to go!”

  Mona shook her head. “We have to finish peeling the potatoes first, so I can put them in with the roast.”

  His brow turned black. “But…”

  “I’m ready, Grampy,” Mellie called from outside.

  Mona called back, “If you can wait long enough for me to put the vegetables in with the pot roast, we can all go.”

  “You can help me peel the potatoes.” Jake looked up at Ken with a pleading smile. He held out a potato helpfully, in case Ken hadn’t noticed the jacketed potatoes on the counter between them.

  Mona dug in the drawer and handed Ken a peeler. “Are the bike tires up?”

  “Maybe I should go check them.” He sat down on a chair next to Jake. “All right, buddy, let’s peel fast.”

  Mellie stopped in the door to the garage. “Can Ambrose go?”

  “Not if we’re all on bikes.” Mona dumped carrot peelings in the compost bag. “Would you please get us each a water bottle, Mellie, and put them in the bottle brackets on the bikes?”

  “Okay.” Mellie snapped crossly, “Hurry up, Jake. You get to ride in your kiddie seat on Grampy’s bike.”

  “I want my own bike!”

  “You’re too slow. We’re going on a real bike ride.” She headed back out to the garage where they kept the bottles of water in the other refrigerator.

  A pout formed, and Jake stared at his grampa. “I want my bike. I’m a big boy!”

  He shrugged. “I know you are. You can always stay home, you know.”

  “Don’t want to stay home!”

  “Then be glad you can ride with me.” He got an idea. “How tall is the wheel on your bike?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Say, this high?” Ken held his hands fifteen inches or so apart. “And Grammy and Mellie and I ride bikes with wheels this high.” He spread his hands wider; it was probably twenty-eight or thirty inches instead of twenty-six, but he needed the emphasis. “With bigger bikes, we can go faster. See? Now, peel your potato or we’ll never get to go.”

  With the animals left in the house and staring out the big window as if they might cry, and all the cyclists helmeted, they finally pedaled out the driveway and, at Ken’s instructions, turned left on the street that bordered their land.

  “Where we going?” Mona asked.

  “It’s a surprise,” Mellie answered.

  Ken shot his wife a shoulder-shrugging look, which made her chuckle. “Okay, single file here until we get to the bike path.”

  She frowned suspiciously. “How come we’re not down by the river?”

  “Decided to do something different.” Ken glanced over his shoulder. “How you doing back there, Jakey boy?”

  “Faster, Grampy, let’s go faster.”

  They rode the city streets until they could turn to the city park that had a playground at one end. Ken parked his bike by a picnic table and lifted Jake to the ground. “Okay, go run off some of your energy. Grammy and I are going to sit right here and watch you.” The two kids ran to the swings and Ken glugged from his water bottle, then leaned back against the table edge and rested his elbows on the wooden table. “It’s warmer than I thought.”

  “We’re not used to pedaling bikes yet this year.” Mona copied his actions. “I’d planned to work in the garden for a while.”

  “We can do that after supper. All of us.”

  She licked her lips. “The kids start Vacation Bible School tomorrow.”

  Between Sandy’s problems at the university and keeping these two occupied, Ken had forgotten all about VBS. “Are you going to help?”

  “I’ve baked cookies, and I will deliver the kids, but then I want to come home. I need to get some work done in my office. You have anything else planned?”

  “Not during the day, but I start the carving class tomorrow night, five to eight. Thought I’d spend the morning sharpening my tools and getting ready.”

  “You could deliver the kids on Tuesday?”

  “I guess.” Why did he have the feeling she was leading up to something? “Okay, what?”

  “Just that Marit would really like you to help, for a couple of days, anyway. It lasts for two weeks.”

  “I thought I could go fishing. Lars asked me at church today if we could go Tuesday morning, early.”

  “And?”

  “And I said I would. Then I’d like to spend the rest of Tuesday in my shop.”

  “But after you take the kids?”

  “All right.” He took another swig of his water. “But I’m not staying to help.”

  She shrugged and cocked an eyebrow.

  He found himself getting angry. “No matter what Marit promised anyone. She volunteered for the job, but that didn’t include grandparents helping. You want to go, you go.”

  “Grandparents day is next Monday. I promised we’d both be there for that.”

  “Fine.” He got up and meandered over to where Mellie was calling, “Push me higher, Grampy.” Grumpy Grampy is what he felt like at the moment. And why not? He had waited years for retirement, when he could do something for Ken Sorenson for a change, instead of for everyone else in the world. So far he hadn’t been able to do a single thing that he actually wanted.

  He gave Mellie a shove. He pushed Jakey. At least he was making someone else happy. The giggles of his swingers tickled his ears. He remembered pleading the same thing when he was a kid. But his grandfather was not the swing-pushing kind. Besides, he was always working on his farm. His grandfather had built a tire swing that entertained the visitors—young kids and sometimes the older ones. Maybe he should rig up a tire swing at the house. The lower limb on the big elm should work. He’d stop at the hardware store for rope tomorrow. And old Coffee at the tire store always had a couple beat-up tires for cheap, maybe even a big farm truck tire. He’d have to put up two; this pair would never peacefully take turns on one. Suddenly his tire swing project was looming huger and huger, just like everything else he tackled lately. On the other hand, tire swings were a good place to daydream away the summer hours.

  He turned when Mona called, “Time to head home so the roast doesn’t burn.”

  “Already?” Mellie quit pumping. “But we haven’t played on the jungle gym yet.”

  “Or the sandbox,” Jake chimed in.

  “Too bad. The boss has spoken, and I don’t want burned roast, do you?” He grabbed Jake around the middle and brought him to a stop. “Come on, buddy, we’ll come back here another day.” Hand in hand, the two headed for the table and the bikes. When he looked back, Mellie was twisting her swing around, her lower lip out beyond her nose.

  He paused. “Come on, Mell, we’ll be back.”

  She left the swing but dragged her feet all the way back to the bikes, giving her grandmother a resentful look.

  Mona looked from her glaring granddaughter to her husband, who gave her a shrugging, raised-eyebrow look. “Okay, kiddo, what’s the pout for?”

  “I don’t want to go home yet. We just got here.” When Mellie whined, it was a world-class nasal, moaning whine. You had to give her her due; she had it perfected to a T. Ken was going to have to consider carefully whether to call Mellie on her instant whine whenever she didn’t get her way or just blow it off. After all, the kids’ home was shattered.

  “I’d rather stay, too, but I’m hungry, and we have to get everything ready for tomorrow tonight, meaning baths, reading time, and…” Mona swung her leg over her bike. “Packing the cookies.”

  “They’re already packed, and I didn’t get dirty today and…”

  Ken
firmed up his voice. “That’s enough, Mell. Get on your bike and let’s get going.” While the girl did as told, her face shouted what she thought of the whole thing.

  Back at the house, they parked the bikes in the brand-new rack by the back door and followed their noses to the tantalizing fragrance wafting from the oven. Mona washed her hands and gave orders as she dried them. “You two kids wash your hands first, then set the table. I’ll make the gravy, and Ken, you put that bag of rolls in the oven when I take the roaster out, then turn it off. Then you can fill the glasses, milk for the kids and iced tea for us.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Ken grinned at her as he saluted.

  Jake copied him precisely, then looked at his grandpa. “Why’d you call her ma’am? Her name’s Mona.”

  “He was being funny, or trying to.” Mona opened the oven door and waited to let the heat out a bit. She set the roaster on the stove and lifted the lid. “Ah, perfection.”

  With the food all on the table, they took their places and Ken said, “Mellie, I think it is your turn to say grace.”

  “Dear Lord, thank You for this food and please keep my daddy safe, amen.”

  When the food had been passed around, Mellie looked at Mona. “Daddy always said his mom made the best pot roast anywhere. You think they have pot roast where he is, wherever he is?” Her voice trembled on the last.

  “I don’t know, sweetie, but this was the first supper he always asked for when he came home.”

  “Even better than hot dogs?” Jake looked up from mashing his potatoes.

  “’Fraid so, buddy.” Ken smiled at his grandson. “But he used to think hot dogs were the best, just like you do.”

  “He liked peanut butter sandwich with pickles on it.” Mellie made a face.

  “Funny, but he always liked that, dill pickles rather than jam.” Mona made a face like Mellie’s. “Not for me.”

  Later, after all was done and the kids were in bed and prayers said, Ken and Mona kissed them each good night.

  “Do you think Daddy will Skype tonight or maybe call?” Mellie’s usual whine was now a melancholy, wistful moan.

  “I don’t know, honey,” Ken answered her.

  “If he does, you’ll come and get me, won’t you?”

  “I will for sure.”

  “Can I read for a while?”

  “Not tonight. You have to get up early tomorrow.”

  She rolled over to face the wall, her grumble muffled in the actions.

  As always, they shut out the light and left the door partway open. They always had a night-light in the hall for bathroom runs. As they made their way downstairs, Mona trailed her hand along the rail. “I wish I knew what to answer her.”

  “That’s the problem, there is no answer.”

  The next morning, Ken handed Mona a cup of coffee and asked her, “What are you working on that is keeping you from helping at VBS?”

  “A few things for the preschool project.” Mona put down the coffee to pour water in a kettle to make the oatmeal.

  “I thought you changed your mind.”

  “No. I’ve prayed about it, and God does not seem to be saying no, so I will go ahead with it.” She measured the oatmeal into the hot water, added salt and Craisins, and set it carefully on the burner, before turning to him. “I know you are not happy about my decision, but my company is important to me and I want to give it my best shot.”

  “I don’t think you—”

  “Grammy, what are we having for breakfast?” Dragging his blankie, Jake stopped in the doorway, as if sensing something was wrong.

  Mona scooped him up, and after a big hug, she set him in Ken’s lap. “I think we are about due for a celebration. This makes three days that Jake has gotten up dry. What did I say we would do when you reached three days?”

  “Don’t need diapers anymore.”

  “Right!” She crossed to the calendar on the refrigerator door and put a star on today. “See, there.”

  “Good boy, Jake.” Ken hugged him close. “Where’s Mellie?”

  “Reading.”

  “Figures. Now, I am going to put you down, and you are going to go up the stairs and tell her she has five minutes before breakfast, okay?”

  “Do I gotta get dressed first?”

  He looked at Mona. “What time do you have to leave?”

  “Starts at nine. Eat first, then dress.”

  Jake slid to the floor and charged up the stairs.

  Ken got up and fetched the cereal bowls from the cupboard to set on the table. “Should I make toast?”

  “Please.”

  The slight feeling of frost in the kitchen didn’t melt until she left with the children at 8:40 a.m.

  Ken poured himself another cup of coffee and sat down, dog and cat beside him. “Why is she being so stubborn?”

  Ambrose cocked his head, tail sweeping the floor. Hyacinth wound around his ankles. Elbows on the table, Ken finished his coffee. He was glad for her work under normal circumstances. In fact, he encouraged it. It was a benefit to the community, pleased her and kept her occupied, and possibly it even kept depression at bay. But these circumstances were not normal. Like a huge storm cloud, the threat of her depression loomed over him.

  He really had a bad feeling about this.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I am going ahead with this because I believe this is what I am supposed to do. Take the next right step.” Mona said the words aloud and firmly, not sure whom she was trying to convince. What if God was talking through Ken? Now that was a new thought, although she knew right away she should probably have thought of it earlier. She parked the SUV in front of the garage.

  A touch of self-pity made her pause. “I so want to do this project and do it well. I’ve dreamed of leading a campaign for something major, and this is right up my alley.” She slapped the palm of her hand on the steering wheel and grabbed her purse. Go ahead until she felt God stopping her. After greeting the animals, she headed upstairs to her office. She needed to edit the packets she had prepared for each of the committee members that included a proposed calendar from August until two months past the grand opening. She’d already circled January 5 on her calendar for the grand opening. November 4 was also circled as the beginning of registration.

  She could hear a grinding or something down in Ken’s workshop. Slowly but surely, he’d been collecting tools over the years so he could have his dream of woodworking. He’d been fixing and building simple things like shelves for the toy baskets through the years, but now he would start a carving class.

  Ken’s getting his retirement dream. Why can’t I use these years to build this business? I’m not putting blocks in his way. This is my dream.

  Whoa, girl, that sounds more like “Woe is me.”

  Well, it is woe is me. I want my dreams, too.

  Ignoring her dueling inner conversation, she sat down at her computer to read through the materials again. Finally she printed them out and took the pages to her chair with a footstool, the place where she usually did her best thinking. Red pen in hand, she prayed first to find every mistake and after that to read aloud to hear how it sounded.

  Ambrose barked as a car drove up to the door. Already? Oh no! She hadn’t printed out the materials yet. Mona stared at the clock. The kids were home from VBS, and no lunch was ready. They would be famished. She’d have to finish later. All five kids burst through the door as she cleared the last stairstep and headed into the kitchen.

  “Grammy, see what we did!” All five were giggling and shouting at once. Ambrose barked to help them out.

  She raised her hands, eyes wide. “Help, I’m being attacked.”

  “Better you than me.” Marit set her purse on the table. “Do you have something for lunch or…?”

  Mona oohed and aahed over all their treasures. “Looks like you had a great time.”

  “We did,” Brit answered for all of them. “Our class is making a play. You and Grampy will come, won’t you?”

  �
��Of course we will. Now how about all five of you go run around the outside of the house five times, and by then we should have lunch ready.”

  The boys headed out, laughing and shouting. Mellie looked at her. “We’re not having hot dogs, are we?”

  “Nope, grilled tuna fish sandwiches. Why don’t you two go down to the basement and tell Grampy we’re making lunch; then you can run out the doors down there?”

  “Okay.” She and Brit charged off.

  Marit sank into a chair and blew out a cheek-rounding breath. “What a morning.”

  “All went well?” As she talked, Mona poured her daughter a glass of iced tea, then hit the pantry for tuna and pickles, grabbing a bag of chips as she went by. She plunked the cans of tuna and the can opener in front of her daughter. “Here, surely you can handle that.”

  “Jakey doesn’t seem to like VBS much and needed a little redirection. A theme this year is ‘what pets can teach us,’ and today was cats. Not the best topic for our cat hater.”

  “I was hoping he would get used to cats by now.” Mona chopped sweet pickles and onions for the tuna salad. “Grilled or not?”

  “Grilled sounds mighty good. We’ve not had that for a long time.”

  Mona dug out the big circular electric grill that she used to make lefse and set it on the counter. “Faster than the stove for this many.” They could hear the kids shouting as they ran. “That should wear them down a bit.”

  “Genius idea. How did you do on the project? I assume you’re going ahead with it, Dad’s approval or no?”

  “I am. I feel so strongly this is a gift with a trail I need to follow. I’m praying that if I am off track, God will stop me.”

  “I thought you and Dad had a deal that if one strongly disagreed…”

  “We’d stop and rethink.”

  She looked up and closed her eyes. “It just seems to be such a perfect opportunity, one I’ve dreamed of.” She heard Ken on the stairs and shrugged. “What do you want to drink, Ken?”

  “Iced tea. You want to eat outside?” He smiled at his daughter. “So how did the morning go?”