The Second Half

by Lauraine Snelling

  “We’ll leave the day after a lesson.” Mona returned Mellie’s high five.

  “Can Brit and the boys come?” Mellie asked.

  “Let me think about it.”

  “That means no.” Jake’s pouty lip appeared again.

  Ken stared at him. “Why do you say that?”

  “Mommy always—”

  “Jakey!” Mellie glared at him.

  “Enough,” Ken barked. “Remember, we talk about things here. Your mommy was part of your life, and we can’t pretend it didn’t happen. So Mellie, let it be. Jake, here in our house, ‘Let me think about it’ means just that. It probably means Grammy and Grampy need to talk about the idea before making a decision. That’s how we try to do things here.”

  Mona nodded slightly, along with a lip rolling. She knew how hard the try was at times. Dreams of her own business still appeared, not only at night. But right now she appreciated not having extra pressure. How come a getting-well child took up so much time, for both her and Ken?

  Ken got up and started clearing the table with Mellie helping—without being asked. “Your lesson is at three?”

  She nodded, her eyes sparkling. “And Grammy is going to ride, too.”

  “And Grammy is really excited, too, huh?” Ken sent her a teasing look. All because she’d mentioned she was more than a bit uptight about it.

  Mellie studied her. “Grammy can do anything.”

  Mona reached for her with a big hug. “Thank you, honey. You make me feel mighty good. How about right after we clean up the kitchen, we go through your clothes to see what you need most for school. Jake, you after.”

  “I got lots of clothes.” He slumped in his chair. “I don’t wanna.”

  “We’re just making lists today.”

  “I hate lists, too.” He peeped from under his lashes and whispered, “Let’s go ride bikes, Grampy.”

  “Not until the doctor says that’s okay. Now get rid of that pouty lip, and after we finish here, we’ll go down to the woodshop.”

  Mona patted him on the head after she stood. “I’ll get the sun tea started.”

  Upstairs in Mellie’s room, they laid all her clothes out on the bed and began sorting. School keepers, play keepers, summer, winter. Most of her pants were too short, as were the sleeves on shirts and sweaters. They tossed her winter jacket on the giveaway pile with the comment, “You need warmer gear here. We get lots of snow and cold.”

  When Mellie’s lists were done, they attacked Jake’s room and did the same, then called him up to try a few things on. He did so with a grump and charged back down the stairs.

  Mona had listed all the sizes, too.

  “I never did it like this before.” Mellie motioned around the room, then picked up a blue sweater. “Daddy really likes this one. He called me Princess sometimes.” She smoothed the sweater down her front. “I know this is small, but can I keep it?”

  “Of course you may.” Mona tipped up Mellie’s chin with one finger and looked directly into her eyes. “You keep whatever you want that reminds you of him, okay?” They both looked at the framed picture of Steig in his dress uniform that sat on her chest of drawers, along with one of the three of them. Mona felt the sting of tears and heard a sniff from the girl at her side. “We’re going to get through this, honey, we are.”

  Together they put back the keeper things and took their lists downstairs to tack on the cork message board on the door to the garage, right next to the calendar.

  Mona studied the calendar. “Since we are riding today, how about we go shopping tomorrow? Get this done quick. What do you think?”

  “The next day is the doctor. Do I have to go?”

  “Nope. And I suggest that we swing by the library on our way home from riding. Sorry we didn’t get to that before.”

  Being on a horse felt far better than Mona ever dreamed it would, not that she’d dreamed of riding. She leaned forward and stroked the golden neck of Bruna, the only Fjord horse she had ever ridden.

  “Okay?” Miss Dixie asked.

  “I most certainly am. This saddle…” She shook her head. “When I was a child, we sometimes rode the horses at my uncle’s farm. We would pretend we were in horse shows, and I used to want to ride English, but Uncle Frazier didn’t have an English saddle. So thank you.” She squirmed around to settle deeper into this English hunt seat.

  “We’ll get your leg grip strengthened as we go. She responds well to legs. She is also voice trained. Remember to hold the reins separately, not like you were used to.” Miss Dixie adjusted the reins slightly. “Sit up straight, and keep your weight on your heels. You will need to buy boots with a heel if you decide to keep this up. We can switch Mellie to English, too, if you’d like.”

  “We’ll see.”

  With a young man working with Mellie in another round pen, Mona and her teacher worked in a larger corral. By the end of her lesson when she dismounted, her legs were shaking.

  “I thought I was in pretty good shape after all we walk and bike ride.”

  “This uses your muscles in a different way. So how do you feel about it?”

  “Pure delight. Any suggestions on where to buy boots and helmets?”

  Miss Dixie gave her the business card of a store in Madison. “They’ll take good care of you and not try to sell you the store. For Mellie, we might have some boots in the office that will fit her. We have a boot swap for families—well, actually, other gear, too, but this is what you need right now.”

  On the way home, they stopped at the library and got Mellie a card of her own. They left an hour later with both of them carrying books. Mona had found one titled Riding English. Mellie had one on caring for a horse and several other horse stories.

  “Thanks, Grammy.” She hugged the books to her chest. “Maybe tonight we can do a lesson on drawing?”

  “I’m sure we can.”

  “Can I come with you to the doctor?” Mellie asked when Mona tucked her into bed that night.

  “Certainly, if you want, but you said you didn’t want to.”

  “I changed my mind. I can read and draw all the way there and in the waiting room and back.” She sucked in a deep breath and let it out with a smile. “That might make Jake feel good, too.” She closed her eyes and clasped her hands. “Dear Jesus, thank You for Grammy and Grampy and riding and drawing and reading and Jakey and my cousins. Most of all, please take care of my daddy and bring him home safe. And soon. Amen.”

  “Amen, indeed,” Mona whispered. And thank You for these children.

  School shopping took Mona back in time, making her realize she’d missed this part of family life. Even though she’d gone sometimes with Marit and the kids, this was different. She’d printed out the shopping lists and gave one to Mellie, too.

  “I’m glad Jakey didn’t come. He really can be a pain.”

  Mona smiled at her granddaughter. “Boys can be like that at times. He will have to try on the shoes, though, but not until we get back from the cabin.”

  “Good thing.”

  Jake was easy to shop for, all but the shoes. While they got most of the school supplies and his clothes at Target, they’d combed three stores to find cute things for Mellie. Mona had forgotten that a ten-year-old girl might have a hard time making decisions, especially when she would be going to a new school and didn’t know anyone there—yet. She and Jake would be attending a different school than their cousins because of where they lived. At least the kids were registered. Ken had taken care of that while she stayed at the hospital with Jake.

  They chose a sandwich shop in the mall and were seated by the window. Sitting. What a joy plain old sitting could be.

  “Daddy hates shopping about as much as Jake.” Mellie twirled her straw in her milk shake.

  “Maybe that’s where Jake got it from.” Mona felt like she’d been run over by a Mack truck. How could shopping be so exhausting? She didn’t remember being this tired. You were younger then. And depression does that to you for months.
You should know that by now. That nagging voice inside didn’t help. And she usually hadn’t tried to cram all the activity into one day.

  “Are we really going to buy riding boots?”

  “Not today.”

  Mellie giggled. “I know that. Did you know that Brit found a summer horse camp on the Internet?”

  “Really?”

  “Uh-huh, actually Aunt Marit found it when Brit asked if she could go looking. They don’t let her search the Internet for stuff, either.”

  Steig had asked them to keep the kids off the Internet without supervision and they totally concurred. She was glad Marit and Magnus felt the same.

  The waitress set their hamburgers on the table. “Anything else I can get you?”

  “Not now, thanks.” She turned back to Mellie. “Let’s say grace and have at it.”

  “I’m starved.” She shut her eyes. “Thank you, Lord, for good food and nice clothes and for making Jake better again, amen.”

  “Good girl.”

  Eating out with her granddaughter promised to be a good memory. After she recovered.

  “Wouldn’t it be perfect if when we got home, the officer had called to say Daddy was on his way home?”

  “That it would be.” The comment caught Mona by surprise. Did Mellie think about her daddy all the time?

  Chapter Thirty

  I don’t wanna get putty.” In the backseat, Jake had that lip out again.

  “Too bad, sport. I’m not going to leave you out here in the car alone. Come along inside.” Ken unlatched the child seat restraints and swung Jake to the ground. “Besides, shopping in clothing stores is boring, but hardware stores are fun.”

  Jake followed him into Cramer’s Hardware, still pouting. “They’re not fun. I don’t wanna.” He raised his head. “I smell popcorn.”

  “Yep. The store has a carnival-style popper, and they offer their customers free popcorn. I suppose they figure if you spend longer in the store eating popcorn, you’ll buy more.”

  Rather than search all the aisles with little grumpy-pants, Ken just asked an employee. Smiling, she led him directly to a shelf of various kinds of putty and wood fillers. He never ceased to be amazed at the arcane knowledge these salespeople had of every item in their store. Millions of items, if you count nails and screws.

  Brian was right, overkill of choice. Ken was carving basswood, and here was basswood-colored repair putty, along with oak, maple, cedar, and mahogany putty, as well as a couple exotic wood names he didn’t recognize. He got the small can, thought again, and got the larger one. If his life was going to go as it had been, he’d need a lot.

  “Okay, Jake, let’s get your aunt’s furnace filters and…”

  “Don’t wanna get furnace filters!”

  “…and then get a couple bags of popcorn.”

  “Don’t wanna get pop—” Jake paused and closed his mouth.

  Ken already knew where the filters were; he bought many. He grabbed four one-inch twenty-by-twenties—two for Marit and two for him—tossed them in the shopping cart, and continued on to the gaudily painted popcorn maker. From inside the glass cabinet, Ken retrieved a bag and handed it to Jake, then got himself one. “Over here.” He led the way to the display of patio furniture and sat down in a surprisingly comfortable wrought iron patio chair.

  Jake sat down in the chair beside his. “This is good.”

  “I agree. They salt it well, and I think they put that artificial butter-flavored stuff on it. We just won’t tell your aunt.” He waited a few moments. “Okay, Jake. What’s this business about ‘I don’t wanna’ all the time? You don’t even think before you say it.”

  Jake glanced up at him, looking a little guilty, and shrugged. “I dunno.”

  Ken figured he would say that, and no doubt it was the truth. A five-year-old has trouble articulating thoughts. “So what do you think about when you’re not thinking about anything? For instance, when you’re building with Legos, you’re thinking about what you’re doing and what you’re going to do next. But like when you’re riding along in the car, and there’s not much going on?”

  That shrug again. Jake carefully concentrated on his popcorn, so Ken gave him the time. Finally, “I guess mostly about Mommy and Daddy. I’m scared Mommy won’t ever come home again. I’m hoping she’ll miss us so much she’ll come home and quit fighting with Daddy, and she won’t yell at us anymore. But if she comes home, she’ll go to the wrong house, in Texas where we don’t live anymore.”

  “Jake, that’s pretty deep stuff. Think about anything else?”

  “Daddy. Mostly Daddy. I’m scared Mellie’s right. She thinks he’s dead and he’s never gonna come back. She’s just saying she thinks he’s alive because that’s what you and Grammy want to think. She doesn’t want to make you quit hoping, you know?”

  “That’s very thoughtful of her.”

  “She loves you muchly.” Jakey looked up at Ken. “So do I.”

  “And you already know Grammy and I love you as much as a kid can be loved.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He had most of his popcorn gone already. “Can we stop for ice cream?”

  “Isn’t your tummy full?”

  “The ice cream will melt down around the edges so it doesn’t take up any space.”

  This kid was going to be an engineer. Ken better start saving up for the tuition to MIT. It wasn’t cheap.

  They did indeed stop at the ice cream parlor for a single dip each. Ken ruminated on their conversation as they ate their ice cream and then drove home. No doubt Marit would say that Jake was handling the situation age appropriately, acting out his fear and anger. Ken would say the kid was wise beyond his years. Probably they both were right.

  He would relate the whole afternoon to Mona tonight when the kids were in bed, so that she would know about Mellie’s little subterfuge.

  His shirt pocket began beeping. He pulled into a drugstore parking lot, checked the screen, and answered. “Hey, Sandy.”

  “Gerald wants us to meet with his firm’s attorneys. He just called. Tomorrow, eleven at their office.”

  “Probably wants to give us the final bill. All right, see you there.” What more could happen now? From the tone of Sandy’s voice, he felt this did not bode well.

  The next morning in the conference room of the eminent law firm Ross, Vorstein, and Schumacher, Ken could not feel lower if he were lying facedown in the basement. Beside him, Sandy looked just as low. Across from them at the huge mahogany table sat Gerald and the senior partner in their law firm, Henning Ross.

  Mr. Ross raised his hands in a gesture of helplessness and let them flop. “Since I’m mentoring Gerry, he brought your problem to me. I worked on it; the whole board ended up working on it. You might say it became a challenge for us, to find a way to reverse the university’s executive board decisions. We could not find a remedy of any sort. Your university lawyers covered all the possible loopholes.”

  “And my department—my former department—is now without any funding at all.”

  “Save for a nickel here, a dime there, yes. Basically, it’s dead. I begrudgingly give the devil his due; the university’s legal staff is top-notch.”

  “But they acted illegally!” Sandy exploded. “Surely we can sue or something.”

  Mr. Ross drew a deep breath. “They acted clandestinely, but no closed meetings. They acted unethically but short of actually breaking any laws.”

  Ken knew well that unethical and illegal are two different things. And if the whole board of Ross, Vorstein, and Schumacher, attorneys-at-law, could not find a way to change the situation, there almost certainly was no way. The bean counters and profit people had won. The department Ken had worked so hard his whole career to build was toppled. Permanently.

  And there was nothing he could do to save it.

  “I’m sorry, Ken. I am so sorry.” Sandy blew her nose.

  “Don’t be. You did everything humanly possible. Never apologize for doing your best.”

&nb
sp; A faint smile whisked across Gerald’s face. “How many times did I hear that!”

  Ken smiled slightly himself. “It worked, didn’t it?” He looked at Ross. “How much do we owe you?”

  “Postage. Four dollars and eighty-seven cents.”

  “No, I mean the whole bill. All of you did your best for us; those were billable hours.”

  Mr. Ross dropped forward, elbows on the gorgeous table. “Dr. Sorenson, we hired Gerry here provisionally because he seemed, well, rather timid. Mild mannered. When you’re defending in court, you cannot appear meek. But his education at Stone was the very best we’ve seen in a new hiree. He knows his stuff, and he can think quickly, inside or outside the box. And when he has to be forceful, he steps right up to the plate—excellent self-confidence, good presence. He attributes all that to you. You helped him get financing, you encouraged him, you built his self-esteem, you pushed him. This firm has a crackerjack employee who will soon become a junior partner, and it is because of your efforts.” Mr. Ross sat up straight. “It’s the least this firm could do. I’m just sorry we couldn’t do more.”

  What could he say? “I’m grateful. Immensely grateful for all you did.”

  Sandy spoke up. “You may not realize the gift you just gave us, Mr. Ross. The legal expenses were coming out of Ken’s pocket, not the university’s; naturally they would not financially support his crusade. I was going to try to help him with that. I thank you, too.”

  The man smiled. “We rather thought that. Gerry told us the kind of person you are.” He stood up and extended his hand. “God’s blessings on your retirement, Dr. Sorenson.”

  Ken stood and shook. The man’s hand was warm and firm. “Thank you. Blessings on you as well.” He reached for Gerald’s hand. “You make me proud, young man. Thank you for all you did. Blessings on your career.”

  Mr. Ross looked at his watch. “Eleven forty-five. Gerry, you might as well take these two to lunch. Put it on the company card.”

  “Thank you, sir. My pleasure.” Gerald led the way out.