Patchwork Family

by Bonnie Tharp

  “Why do you think Dad hasn’t called this week?” Peggy wiped the crumbs from the table. “I’d like to talk to him first, before Tad and Megan. Okay?”

  “Sure, honey. Your grandmother will support whatever you want to do regarding your father.” Holding the cabinet door open, Peggy wiped her hands over the trashcan.

  “You know, I think Gram’s doing much better. She’s not sleeping so much. Not even naps.”

  “That’s a good sign.” Rinsing the sauce from the plates before putting them in the dishwasher seemed stupid to Regina, but she knew if she didn’t there would be food stuck on them.

  Rubbing her arched back, Regina smiled at the cat. “I think Sugar and Ms. Pickles have reached an understanding about who eats out of what bowl. It seems the cat wins all contests.”

  “I think I’ll go upstairs and listen to some music.” Peggy examined her fingers and frowned. “It’s time to do my nails, too.”

  When Regina scanned the tidy kitchen, she decided to have a talk with Sam, joining him outside on the front steps, enjoying the summer evening. Ms. Pickles followed then curled up between Megan and Annabelle on the porch swing.

  Regina sat down beside Sam. “How about we go home?”

  “Things do seem to be settling down around here. It’s almost boring.” Sam winked at Megan and Annabelle.

  “Thank you both for all you’ve done.” Annabelle paused, her crochet needle above the afghan she had started.

  “Thanks for staying with us.” Megan absently stroked the cat.

  Nodding, Sam smiled. “You’re most welcome.”

  The chains on the porch swing creaked as Annabelle and her youngest grandchild moved back and forth. Tad had come around the side of the house and joined the family.

  “Can Sugar stay?” Tad asked. “She’s a lot more fun than a silly cat.”

  Sam smiled and watched to see how Megan would react.

  Megan giggled. “Sugar can stay, but you’ve got to go.”

  “Yes, things are pretty much back to normal around here.” Sam slapped his thigh and cleared his throat to hide a laugh. “Who will round out the household if Tad comes home with us?”

  Annabelle stopped her crochet hook once again. “I think I’d like for him to stick around a little longer. Wouldn’t you, Megan?”

  “I suppose, but don’t call me squirt anymore. I don’t like it.” Megan threw a broken twig at her brother. “If my legs were longer, and I didn’t have this cast, I’d be able to run just as fast as you.”

  “In your dreams, little sister.”

  Regina felt grateful for their banter.

  “By the way,” The swing paused again as Annabelle spoke. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, Regina, why did you cut your hair?”

  “I felt compelled to do it and I’m glad. It feels better with that weight off my shoulders.” Regina shook her head for emphasis.

  “I like the way it swings,” Megan said.

  “It is very flattering.” Annabelle resumed her crocheting. “I think it makes you look younger.”

  Sam ran his hand through Regina’s loose waves. “I have to admit it’s growing on me.”

  “I don’t like it.” Tad crossed his arms over his chest. “I can’t tell when you’re mad anymore.”

  Regina turned a puzzled frown toward the young man. “What?”

  “You can’t do that flip thing with your braid anymore. So I don’t have any warning.”

  Sam started laughing. “You know what? You’re right! I hadn’t thought of that.”

  Stroking the purring cat, Megan smiled at Regina. “Peggy tosses her hair like you used to. I think it’s nice.”

  “I think it’s funny.” Tad mimed taking his hair and throwing it over his shoulder.

  “I guess I didn’t realize . . . it was purely reflex.” Feeling her cheeks warm, Regina looked down the quiet street.

  “Well, it was a sure sign that you were going after someone.” Gesturing with his hands, Tad continued. “Like when you stood up to Mom under the bridge. I knew you were ready for anything when that braid went flying.”

  Sugar’s low growl interrupted their laughter. Ms. Pickles’ head came up. Regina watched a beat-up silver sedan crawling down the street. It practically stopped in front of the walk then continued on when all eyes turned to see what had the animal’s attention. Megan sucked in her breath. The driver wore a black baseball cap, his face in shadow.

  “Who’s that?” she asked.

  Sam stood and walked toward Tad and the Labrador Retriever standing at the bottom of the steps.

  “Do you know who that was?” He rested a hand on Tad’s shoulder.

  “I didn’t get a good look at his face, but Sugar didn’t like him much.”

  “What do you think? Should Regina and I stick around a while longer?” Removing his hand, he stood beside the growing young man. “We can if we need to.”

  Tad looked up at Sam, steel in his eyes. “We’ll be fine. Honest.”

  Sam gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Then we’ll leave in the morning.”

  Straining to see where to car went, Regina sighed. “I couldn’t see his face. Could you, Annabelle?”

  “Not really.”

  Megan sat very still.

  “The mosquitoes will be hungry as soon as the sun goes down. Let’s go inside.” Annabelle stood, the back of her legs stopping the swing.

  “We have packing to do if we’re going to go home tomorrow. I can take Sugar and our bags home while you’re at work.”

  “Thanks, love.” Kissing Regina’s cheek, Sam gave her a hand up.

  “How do you feel about having a dog around here, Annabelle?” Regina asked.

  “I have to admit, I like it.”

  “Maybe Sam and I can come up with a substitute for Sugar.”

  “I don’t want a puppy. They’re just like having babies.”

  “True. Maybe Tad and I can go to the Humane Society and rescue an adult dog.” Sam watched the grinning boy bound up the stairs.

  “That would be way cool.”

  “I’d like that,” Megan said.

  “Then it’s settled. We’ll go dog hunting this coming weekend.”

  Folding the yarn project, Annabelle stood and stretched her back then tugged at her blouse. “He has to get along with the other animals.”

  “We’ll make sure of that,” Sam said.

  “And make sure it’s a breed that will guard and protect.”

  Tad turned his back to her and bent his knees so Megan could climb on. “Let’s see if Joe will let us research dogs on their computer and see what breeds are good for that. Come on, kiddo, you can help.”

  Annabelle handed Megan her crutches, which she held in the crook of her arm.

  “Okay, but I like all dogs, even the really big ones.”

  “Keep it under a hundred pounds,” Sam said. “No bigger than Sugar.”

  “How much does she weigh?” Tad asked.

  “She used to weigh seventy-five pounds, but I think you guys have made her fatter since we’ve been here.”

  Tad looked at Megan and they said in unison, “She likes Gram’s oatmeal cookies.”

  Sam rolled his eyes. “As if she wasn’t spoiled enough.”

  Chapter 19

  PUSHING A POT of swollen beans to the back burner of the stove, Annabelle spoke over her shoulder. “Tillie and Joe are coming for dinner. I’m making ham, beans and cornbread.”

  “Not very gourmet, Gram.” Peggy picked up her cereal bowl and put it in the sink.

  “Tillie’s the gourmet, honey, not me.”

  “I know. Just teasing. I like your beans and cornbread. Especially with a little honey and butter on the cornbread.”

  Tad wrinkled his
nose. “Don’t forget the bean stuff.”

  “We don’t need ‘gas be gone.’ The secret is soaking the beans overnight. It helps with the gas.”

  “I’m a guy. Soak or not, beans plus guys equals gas.” He drank the remaining milk from his cereal bowl.

  Annabelle’s eyes widened. “Hurry up, now. Finish your breakfast and get, so you don’t miss your buses.”

  “I’m going to Malissa’s after school, but I’ll be home by six.” Peggy put the strap of her backpack over her narrow shoulder and smoothed her ponytail.

  Tad grabbed his gym bag. “I’ve got basketball. See you around five-thirty or six.”

  “Will you meet me at the bus stop, Gram?” Megan tucked her crutches under her arms.

  “I’ll be happy to, honey.”

  “Will Tillie bring dessert tonight?” Tad’s sweet tooth surpassed even Annabelle’s and Megan’s.

  “As a matter of fact, she said she had a new recipe to try out on us.”

  “Guinea pigs, huh?” Tad didn’t appear concerned.

  “What’s wrong with that?” Peggy asked.

  “Nothing. Even her flops are fantastic.” The young man licked his lips.

  “Tillie doesn’t make flops,” Peggy reminded him.

  “Good point.”

  Annabelle put her hand on his shoulder. “Be good today. No fighting.”

  “Promise.” He crossed his heart with his finger.

  “Hurry up now, or you’ll miss the bus.” Annabelle poured another cup of coffee and listened to the kids’ voices grow softer as they proceeded down the block. The house creaked, settling after the chaos the kids created on their way out the door. Ms. Pickles had re-emerged and was enjoying her own breakfast in peace.

  Regina and Sam had been gone for a couple of days. Annabelle was happy to have the house to the four of them again. It would’ve been nice if Sugar stayed, but she could tell the dog missed being able to run outdoors. Chasing a three-legged cat created no challenge.

  The morning passed quickly. Annabelle took a short nap after lunch and woke when the alarm went off.

  “There’s something to be said for a twenty minute nap.”

  She waited on the porch at three, crocheting and watching every car that drove down the street. She studied the drivers, afraid one might be Tom.

  What if he comes? What should I do?

  “Offer him some tea, I suppose.” She laughed at herself and checked the street corner again. No sign of the bus, but she knew it would be there any minute. She decided to walk down to meet it. Annabelle needed the exercise, and it was a beautiful day.

  Ms. Pickles meowed from behind the screen.

  “Sorry, girl. No walk for you. Maybe Peggy can take you later.”

  Whoever heard of walking a cat?

  Annabelle went down the steps to the sidewalk.

  The days were warming up quickly. School would be out soon, and the Kansas summer heat would kick in full force. There’d be no official basketball, but she knew Tad would practice all summer. Annabelle hated the really hot days. Her body looked much better covered in layers.

  The girls looked cute in their shorts and flip-flops. When she and Regina were children, they wore cotton dresses. Annabelle loved going barefoot, but she couldn’t remember a single time when Regina hadn’t worn shoes. The poor thing never knew the joy of cool mud between her toes or wading in the pond. Regina wasn’t even allowed to get dirty.

  In some ways, I had it better than Regina growing up. No money, but few rules.

  The squeaking brakes brought her back as the school bus pulled up to the corner where she stood. Peggy and Megan got off together, laughing.

  “Hey, there. Malissa’s grounded, so I just came home on the bus with Megan.”

  “Hi, Gram.” Megan gave her grandmother a one-armed hug, balancing on her crutches. “You should’ve seen Bradley today at school. He got his hair shaved off and looked weird. He let me touch it. I thought it would be scratchy, but it’s soft.”

  “Probably his summer do.” Peggy tightened her ponytail.

  “I guess. Only two and a half more days. I’m going to miss my teacher. Mrs. Rose is so nice.”

  “I’ll have three months to work on my tan and drivers education.” Peggy swung her purse by her side.

  “Oh.” Annabelle put her hand over her heart.

  “Come on, Gram. I’m almost sixteen. I can get a learner’s permit and drive with you.”

  Annabelle stumbled. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Megan giggled. “Maybe we should have Tillie or Joe teach you to drive. They have bigger cars.”

  Patting her chest with her hand, Annabelle took a deep breath. “It’s not the car that’s the problem. It’s the thought of my grandchild driving it that makes my heart skip a beat.”

  Peggy put her hands on her narrow hips. “I’m growing up, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.”

  “True, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to relish these last few moments before you’re racing down Amidon or dragging Douglas.”

  “Gram, they don’t drag Douglas anymore. That was at least a hundred years ago.” Peggy paused to wait for Megan. “We talked about old timey stuff like that in American History. You know, drive-in movies, ice cube trays, eight-track tapes, skates with keys, stuff like that.”

  “There’s still a drive-in theater left in town. We’ll have to go there. You can’t really understand what it’s like if you haven’t seen a movie from your car.” Annabelle smiled remembering her teen days, the steamy windows and the heavy kissing going on in the front seat.

  “I really like stadium seating, surround sound and 3D. I can’t imagine sitting in the car with a giant hot dog dancing on the screen.”

  Megan paused, her nose wrinkled in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  Peggy and Annabelle laughed. “We’ll show you this summer.”

  When they got to the house they went single file up the walk to the porch, Peggy in the lead and Annabelle bringing up the rear.

  When Peggy got to the top step, she froze to the spot. “Gram.”

  “Yes, dear.” Annabelle’s smile fell when she followed Peggy up the steps. “What is it?”

  “Dad?” Peggy said.

  On the porch sat Tom Malone. He rose from the swing, a tentative smile on his face.

  “Oh, my.” Annabelle felt a major power surge through her body. Her son-in-law hadn’t changed much, still lanky, but his hair was thinner and as she studied him she realized he seemed softer somehow.

  Peggy’s tears choked her voice. “What are you doing here?”

  Megan stood mute beside her grandmother.

  “I wanted to see you. Looks like you’re getting along good, Meg.”

  “Her name is Megan. Why didn’t you call first?” The teenager’s face was red with anger.

  “Megan, go on in the house.” Annabelle gave her a careful nudge toward the door.

  “But . . . Gram . . .”

  “Now.”

  “Bye.” She wiggled a couple of fingers at Tom before she turned and went inside.

  “Bye, Megan.” Tom called to his youngest daughter.

  Annabelle watched her hobble inside then turned her attention to the unexpected visitor. Peggy took deep uneven breaths but seemed to be gaining some control over her emotions.

  Okay, no door mats today. Make sure he understands they’re just kids and to go easy.

  “Tom, you have no right to just show up.” With him seated on the swing, Annabelle towered above his head.

  “I tried calling, but no one would listen.”

  Still struggling to breathe normally, Peggy’s cheeks were flushed. Was it fear? Annabelle wanted the kids to feel safe and her eldest grandd
aughter was obviously in distress.

  Straightening to her full five-foot-six inches, Annabelle said, “For how long, Tom? A week? A month? And will you leave again, taking another ten-year vacation from fatherhood?”

  Putting her hand on her grandmother’s arm, Peggy stood up straighter. “I’ll be okay out here with the door open. I have some questions that need answers. Just keep Megan inside. Please, Gram.”

  Annabelle’s face burned while sweat began to trickle down her back. “I’ll be right inside.” She turned daggers toward Tom. “You’d better not hurt these children, inside or outside.”

  “I won’t.” The old Tom Malone smirk was thankfully absent, so Annabelle nodded.

  The phone rang several times before Annabelle could get inside to answer it.

  “Hello.”

  “Belle, this is Joe. I see you have a visitor. Is everyone okay?”

  “We’re fine. I’ll call you when he’s left.”

  “Is that the kids’ dad? Are you sure you’re all right?”

  She sighed. “We’ll be fine, but could you just watch . . . to make sure he doesn’t try to take her somewhere?”

  “No problem. I’ll go one better. I’ll sit on the porch and make sure he sees that he has an audience.”

  “Thanks, Joe.” She hung up the receiver and wiped her damp upper lip with her index finger, but just as Annabelle turned to leave the parlor, the phone rang again.

  “Hello.”

  “Annabelle, this is Regina.”

  “What is it Regina? My hands are kind of full right now.”

  “I’ll make it quick. Tom’s been in jail the past five years.”

  “What? How do you know that?” She pulled the phone cord as far as it could reach so she could see out front. Her heart thudded in her ears.

  “Sam made the discovery.”

  Looking over her shoulder, Annabelle covered her mouth and the receiver with her cupped hand. “Why was he in jail?”

  “Vehicular manslaughter and driving while under the influence.”

  Sinking into the rocker, Annabelle expelled her breath.

  “Oh, my.”