by Risner, Fay
She found Henie in the living room. She was sitting in the ugly green chair that went with the couch. Her chin rested on her chest just like any other old person in the middle of an after supper nap.
“Henie, what you doing?”
The robot opened her eyes and made a face like she hated to be bothered. “Just waiting until bedtime. If your next question was do I have all my work done. The answer is yes.”
Karen plopped down on the couch and felt the springs give. “That never entered my mind. I just wanted tell you something. While you were resting I visited the cemetery.”
“I know. I watched you from my bedroom window. Find anything interesting?” Henie asked, straightening in the chair as she livened up.
“Yes, that family tree you talked about is a little clearer to me now,” Karen told her, watching for a reaction.
“That's good to know, dear,” Henie said, giving away nothing. Instead, she sighed.
“What are you thinking about?” Karen hoped Henie would have shared something enlightening.
Henie smoothed the wrinkles out of her apron. “This would have been a perfect night to sit on the porch if we had rockers to sit in.”
Anywhere had to be more comfortable to sit than this old couch. “I forgot to do that, didn't I? All right, I'll bring the rockers down right now. You hold the door open for me when I get back.” Karen rushed upstairs to the attic and hurried back with the rocker Henie sat in by the trunk. “I didn't see any other rocker. Is there another one?”
“Look in the far west corner. There are some of Clell's boxes on it and around it so the rocker is hard to see,” Henie recalled.
When Karen made it to the door with the second rocker, Henie was waiting with a rag in her hand. In a few minutes, she had the rockers dusted. “Now we can try them out. Have a seat, dear.”
They rocked as they watched the sun sink and turn the field across the road as red as the horizon.
“You have good ideas,” Karen complimented.
Henie chuckled. “Sure I do. It's another app Amy programmed in me. Karen, do you ever take the time to see what is around you when you relax?” Henie asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I think your mind swirls with thoughts about your writing. You never take the time to see nature. When you have the opportunity to live in the country you should take advantage of it. Life shouldn't be all work.
Have you noticed the sparrows flitting from fence post to fence post? See how busy they are? They dart down and pick up a piece of dead grass to put in their nest.” Henie pointed across the road. “Hear the trill of the redwing blackbirds while they balance on those electric wires.
A wren has been warbling up a storm in that elm tree by the road ever since we sat down. I'll bet a noisy as that tiny bird has been, you haven't heard it.
The robins are hopping about, looking for a bug in the grass to feed their babies. A couple of squirrels have darted down in the road ditch and back up the tree.
That's just a few of the things going on around here that make this place a nice house to live in,” Henie declared. “Plenty of action going on.”
Her attention changed from nature to traffic as she watched a white pickup with a tool box in the back slow down.
The pickup pulled in the driveway and stopped. A handsome man climbed out. Definitely, a farmer from the way he was dressed in a plaid shirt and jeans.
“Who is he?” Henie whispered behind her hand.
“I have no way of knowing,” Karen replied softly.
The man, with sun browned skin, approached and took off his feed store cap to reveal his disorderly brown hair. He gave them a friendly smile. “Evening, ladies. I'm Chris Sorensen. My farm is on the far side the cemetery. I noticed someone had moved into the Crane house. Thought I'd just say welcome to the neighborhood.” He climbed the steps and sat on the floor with his back against the post.
“I'm Karen Warwick, and this is Henie,” Karen introduced as she noted the scent of dust on him. Clearly, he had been doing field work.
Chris shook his hat toward them. “I'm glad to see you're living in this old house. It was meant to be lived in. Is it just you two?”
“Yes, just the two of us,” Karen answered.
“Not always easy for two women living alone in the country. If you ever need help with anything, just give me a call. I'm not always in the house, but I have an answering machine. I'm sort of handy so if you ever need anything fixed. I'd be glad to help out,” Chris said.
“Isn't that nice,” gushed Henie.
“Thank you, Mr. Sorensen. We'll keep that in mind,” Karen said evenly.
“Young man, it's a warm evening. Could I get you a glass of ice tea?” Henie asked.
“Aw, no need to bother on my account, ma'am,” Chris drawled shyly.
“No bother. I was just going to go in and get us tea. I'll bring you a glass while I'm at it. You look dry,” Henie said, getting up.
“Guess I am dry. It warmed up nice today and got dusty out in the field,” he said.
Karen agreed, “Really nice day though. I guess we can safely say this is spring for sure. Do you farm many acres, Mr. Sorensen?”
“Stick with Chris. Mr. Sorensen was my dad. I rent farm land a mile away, and I have three hundred acres on my farm. I just finished planting the last field of beans. Glad to get done before a rain comes.”
Henie came out carrying three glasses. One in each hand and her arm wrapped around one. She handed one to Chris then gave Karen hers.
“Much obliged, ma'am,” the farmer said politely.
Henie sit down and rested her glass on the rocker arm before she asked, “Are the cattle in the pasture yours?”
“They are. I've got forty three head of black Angus,” he told her. Karen noted Henie's see I was right look as Chris asked, “What do you do for a living, Karen?”
“I'm an author. It makes me a nice living so I don't have to join the rat race in town,” she replied. “I'm a city girl so Henie is acquainting me with country life, and I find I like living here very much.”
Chris nodded. “That's mighty nice. I've always liked living on my farm, but then this is the only life I've ever known.”
“Your mother, Gracie, still living?” Henie asked, holding tightly to the sweating tea glass on the arm of her rocker.
Chris said, “She's in a nursing home now. You know my mom?”
Karen gave her a somber look. How was Henie going to answer?
“No, I just remembered hearing the name somewhere,” Henie said offhandedly.
Chris set his empty glass on the porch floor. “I best keep moving. I still have to fix me some supper. You ladies have a nice evening now.” He put his cap on as he headed for the pickup.
“What a nice young man?” Henie purred.
“I suppose. He seemed polite enough. Hope he doesn't make a nuisance out of himself,” Karen stated.
Henie frowned. “It wouldn't hurt to find something that needs fixing once in awhile so you could invited that nice young man over. I repeat there is more to life than work.”
“I'm not about to call that farmer for help. We can handle anything that needs done around here,” Karen declared.
“Sure we can,” quipped Henie. “That isn't the point. You need to give that cute farmer a reason to come visit.”
“What did you bring that glass of tea out here for? It's sweating all over your rocker arm,” Karen said to change the subject.
“I couldn't very well not have a glass in my hand while the farmer was here. How would that have looked?”
“Oh.” Karen started her rocker squeaking again as she stared into the dusk. “Oh, look! The fireflies are out. Isn't that a pretty sight?”
“Sure is. That's always a fun thing to do for kids in the country. Remember when you used to catch lightning bugs when you were a kid?” Henie asked.
Karen shook her head. “No, Mom wouldn't let me.”
Henie slapped her rocker arm w
ith her free hand. “Just like her mother. I knew it. Why wouldn't Helen let you catch lightning bugs?”
“She said the next thing I'd do was bring the nasty things in the house and let the lid get off the jar. She'd find insects crawling on everything. She couldn't have that,” Karen related as she stared into the darkness.
Henie stood up. “Stay put while I put this glass of tea in the refrigerator. I'll be right back.”
Chapter 9
“In a few minutes, Henie was back. She handed Karen a jelly jar.
“What is this for?” Karen asked.
“A jar for you and one for me. We're going to catch lightning bugs. Get out in the yard and see how many you can snatch out of the air,” ordered Henie.
So for the next hour, the two of them laughed and encouraged each other as they grabbed at the air. When they succeeded in catching a lightening bug, they held closed fists over the jelly jars to release the bugs and slipped on the lid.
Finally, Karen held her jar up so it caught the living room window light. “Think we have enough, Henie. My jar looks almost full.”
“So is mine. Now let's take them in the house and put them on our bedroom dressers. It's always fun to watch them light in the dark after we go to bed,” Henie said. She paused. “You do want to take the jars in, don't you?”
“Sure I do,” Karen said, taking Henie's jar so Henie could hold the railing to step up to the porch.
Karen rushed to her room and set her jar on her lamp table. She went across the hall and set Henie's jar on her dresser.
In the mirror, Karen watched Henie wiggle into her white, cotton night gown by the bed. Karen looked at her image in the mirror and then at Henie. The robot was taking the pins out of her hair and running her fingers through it. The bun spilled wavy hair down to her shoulders.
“Henie, do you think I'm anything like my mother?” Karen asked.
Henie picked up her white night cap on the foot of the bed, stuck it on her head and pushed the ruffle out of her eyes. She came to the dresser, laid her handful of hair pins in a pile and met Karen's eyes in the mirror.
Henie smiled at her. “I was afraid you were headed that way at one time, but lately you've loosened up enough that you're plumb likable.”
Karen turned and gave Henie a hug. “If I have loosened up as you put it, it's all your fault you know.”
“In that case, I'll gladly take the blame for something that's turning out right in your world,” Henie said, patting Karen's back.
The next afternoon, Karen stopped typing, thinking she needed to take a coffee break and rest her fingers. A car rumbled into the driveway, stopped. A door slammed. “Who could that be?”
She was almost across the living room when the front door burst open. “Mom!”
“Hello, Karen,” her mother said cheerfully. Slung over her right arm was the handle of a tote box full of bottles and rags. Over her left arm hung a large black purse full of pockets.
Karen pointed at the box. “What have you got there?”
“My cleaning supplies. I thought as long as I was coming I might as well bring them along just in case,” Helen said offhandedly. “I know I was taking a chance not bringing a broom with me, but I thought surely you have one of those.”
“I told you the house is in good shape. You shouldn't have bothered to come all the way out here,” Karen defended.
“I know you did. How about fixing me a cup of coffee for go power while I look around just to make sure.” Her mother wasn't used to taking no for an answer. She made a swipe across the lamp table with her finger. “Well, I'll be. That's not dusty.”
“I told you,” Karen said quietly. She glanced upstairs and didn't see Henie. If she was lucky, the robot would stay in her bedroom until her mother left. She headed for the kitchen. “Let's go make that coffee. As long as you're here, you might as well have a cup with me. I'm ready for a coffee break.”
“Why are you talking so low? Do you have a sore throat?” Helen said as she felt Karen's forehead.
“No, Mom. I'm fine. Stop that,” Karen replied as she grabbed her mother by the elbow and headed her to the kitchen. Helen set her cleaning supplies on the counter along side the purse and slid into a chair at the table. She folded her hands together and watched her daughter start the coffee maker.
Karen sit down by her. “It doesn't take long. We'll have coffee in no time.”
“Good. That's just enough time to tell me what's going on out here. Spill the beans. I can see you're nervous about something,” Helen ordered.
“Now what makes you say something like that. I'm fine and enjoying every minute of country living,” Karen defended.
“Uh huh, but you didn't sound like everything was all right when I talked to you on the phone. You asked questions I never thought I'd hear from you. Something or someone put you up to it. A mother knows such things.” Helen looked down her nose at Karen.
Henie appeared on the back step and opened the screen door just as Karen opened her mouth to protest. “The kittens are really growing. They are so much fun to play with now.” She stopped talking as she eyed Helen. “Gracious sakes, why didn't you let me know we have company. How about serving your guest a cup of coffee?” She shuffled over to the coffee maker. “Oh, I see you started it already, dear. All right, I'll get the cups and serve.”
Helen was wide eyed, watching Henie's every movement. She whispered, “Who is she?”
“Henie, this is my mother, Helen Warwick. Henie works for me, Mom. She cooks and cleans,” Karen introduced and added, “That's why the living room was well dusted.”
Helen's eyes narrowed as Henie carried two steaming cups of coffee to the table. “Didn't I tell you, dear, you would have company one of these days so I needed to keep the parlor clean?”
“You did tell me that,” Karen said, smiling at Henie. She glanced at her mother for a reaction. The woman's face paled as she studied Henie's blue cotton dress with the pink wild roses on it.
Helen asked, “Do you carry a flowered hanky in that pink apron's pocket by any chance?”
“Of course, I do. I wouldn't go anywhere without one of my hankies,” Henie said, clasping her hands together in front of her apron. “Will you be staying for supper, Mrs. Warwick?”
“No, my husband is expecting me home by then,” Helen answered.
“Sid wouldn't want his supper to be late if I'm any guess. I bet he eats at six o'clock every night. Right?” Henie asked.
“Th – that's right,” stuttered Helen. She narrowed her eyes at Karen.
“If there isn't anything else I can do for you I think I'll go to my room,” Henie said to Karen.
“That will be fine. I can check with you later on if you aren't downstairs before then,” Karen told her.
After Henie left, Helen took a sip of her hot coffee as she pondered.
“Mom, everything okay?”
“You know it's not. How did that woman know when we eat dinner?”
“It probably came up some time or other when we were talking about what time she should fix my evening meal,” Karen said.
“Where did that woman come from? You didn't tell me you had a woman staying here with you.” Helen's hands trembled on the coffee cup.
“Sorry about that. I guess it slipped my mind. She hasn't been here very long. Actually, my friend, Amy Brown, loaned Henie to me. She thought it might be a good help for someone to cook and clean while I wrote my book,” Karen explained. “Why? You look upset.”
“Something doesn't feel right about that woman. I think you should get out of the house with me right away and call Amy. Tell her to come get that woman out of here,” Helen said urgently.
“Calm down, Mom. Give me a reason why I should. Henie is doing a good job, and I like her,” Karen defended.
“You will think I'm crazy if I tell you what went through my head when I saw that woman,” Helen hissed.
“Maybe not. Just tell me,” Karen insisted.
“All right. D
oes this Henie have anything to do with why you were asking questions about my grandparents?”
Karen shrugged. “Sort of. Henie made a remark that everyone should find out about their family tree before it's too late. That made me curious about mine.”
Helen got up and went for her purse. “I hunted up some old family pictures to bring you. I thought you might appreciate seeing what my parents and grandparents looked like.” Helen rifled through a stack of black and white photos. “You better take a look at this picture of your great grandmother and great grandfather, Henrietta and Clell Crane.”
Helen laid the picture in front of Karen. She set her cup down and picked the picture up for a closer look.
“What do you see?” Helen demanded.
“I don't know for sure. I never met my great grandparents as you know,” Karen said. She laid the picture back on the table.
“Let me introduce you. This is Henrietta. Most of the time she was known as Henie. I was a child when the picture was taken on their sixty second wedding anniversary. Grandpa died shortly after that. Grandma Henie wore a blue dress with pink wild roses on it. Just before the picture was taken she took off her pink apron. Does that dress look familiar?” Helen tapped the dress with her finger.
“Is that all? Mom, that is the dress Henie has on, and I can see the resemblance in this picture to the picture of the young couple I found in the attic.
Mom, I can explain about the dress. Henie didn't come here with enough clothes. We went through the trunks in the attic and found that dress and several others she liked so I gave them to her. They must have belonged to your grandmother.” Karen hoped that was close enough to the truth to seem believable. “Is that all?”
“No, not quite. Explain to me how that woman looks so much like my dead grandma in this picture.” Helen tapped the picture with her finger again.
“Coincidence?” Karen guessed.
Helen raised an eyebrow. She wasn't buying it. “What is her last name?”
Karen's eyes shifted one way then the other before she confessed, “I don't know.”
“You're letting a stranger stay here with you, and you don't know her last name. I thought I taught you better about stranger danger,” Helen complained.