"Okay, we're out of here. We'll be back before eight. I can't wait for the cinnamon rolls!" He waved and went to roust Doug.
Polly pulled the first batch of dough out of the machine and added ingredients for the next. This was going to be a bit of a process, but she had to do something to let people know how much she appreciated their work. She heard Doug yell, "See ya later!" and the door slam behind him.
She was rolling out her second batch of rolls when she heard the door open again. Looking up at the clock, she saw it was seven thirty. That was about right. Henry was nearly always here about this time and there were rolls and coffee sitting on the counter waiting for the early birds. She figured the smell of baking and cinnamon would draw people back to the kitchen, and wasn't paying attention. She slathered butter over the dough and began sprinkling the cinnamon mixture when she heard a familiar voice.
"Hi, Polly."
It was all she could do to not drop everything in her hands. She knew she had set her jaw, but she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and looked up.
Joey was standing in the window of the kitchen, watching her.
"Joey." She tried to keep all inflection out of her voice. "What are you doing here?"
"Polly. I've missed you. I had to see you."
"Why, Joey? We're finished."
"I don't think we are, Polly. I know I screwed up, but we had something great. I mean, you are amazing. How could any smart man let you go?"
She put her hands down on the workspace in front of her, bracing herself.
"When did you get in?" she asked.
"I flew in last night and stayed in Des Moines. I rented a car, got up early and here I am!"
"Joey," she said with all the patience she could muster, "how in the hell did you find me."
"Polly, can't you be glad to see me and tell me we can spend some time together talking things out."
"Oh, Joey," Polly sighed, "Why couldn't you have left well enough alone? I broke up with you and I left Boston! I'm done dealing with your stuff and with you. I don't have anything left inside for you."
She looked down at the work table and began rolling up the dough.
"Polly, I don't believe that,” he protested. “I can't believe that! Please tell me you'll at least give me a chance to show you things are better."
Polly looked up. Joey wasn't whining or crying at her. He seemed more like a normal person than he had when she left him earlier this year.
"Joey, I don't care if you stick around, but you're going to have to find a place to stay. You aren't staying here. You can get a hotel down in Boone or over in Ames. If we can find time to spend together, that's cool, but I've got a lot going on and I'm not changing my world around because you showed up. I didn't ask you to come and I don't want you here."
She sliced the rolls and put them on a pan, covering it and setting it near the oven so the dough could rise.
"That's great, Polly. I want you to see that we still have something great and we can be together."
"Good morning, Polly! Who's your friend?" Henry came up behind Joey and rested a hand on his shoulder. He reached out with his right hand to shake Joey's. "Hi! I'm Henry Sturtz, pretty much in charge of construction around here."
Releasing Joey's hand, he picked up a cinnamon roll in a napkin. Without waiting for an answer, he commented, "Wow, Pol. Homemade cinnamon rolls? What's the occasion?"
For the first time since Joey showed up, Polly’s heart felt like it belonged in her chest. The strain washed away and she smiled at Henry.
""Well, everyone has been working so hard this week, I thought I would do something a little special. So, breakfast it is!
"Oh,” she continued. “And this is Joey Delancy from Boston. He's decided to see what I'm up to out here in the middle of the country."
"Then, welcome to Iowa, Joey Delancy!" Henry said, clapping him on the back again. "Here, have a cinnamon roll! I hear our Polly is a terrific cook and it looks like I get to be the first to try her baking!" Henry took a bite from the cinnamon roll, licked his lips loudly, then put it down on the counter. While he was swallowing, he picked another up in a napkin and handed it to Joey.
"Wow,” he said. “Those are amazing. You wouldn't want to miss out on something this wonderful, would you Joey?"
Polly looked at Henry a little oddly. He'd never been quite so effusive, but then, she'd never seen him around people he didn't know.
"Polly girl, you're amazing. How long do those have to rise?" he asked, pointing at the rolls by the oven.
"I suppose about fifteen more minutes."
"Then, that's perfect! Can you come upstairs for a minute? I need to show you what we're working on today in case you want to make some changes."
Polly cocked her head to the side, trying to understand him. Neither his body language nor his eyes said anything was out of the ordinary, but his request certainly was.
"Sure," she said. "I'll be right there. Let me wash my hands."
He poured a cup of coffee and walked away. "Sure are great cinnamon rolls, Polly!"
"Joey.” Polly said, “This place is about to get busy. I've got workmen and some friends coming in. I'm not going to have time to talk to you today."
"That's alright, Polly.” He looked around. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Ummmm ... no," she said. "Look, why don't you head to Boone. There's plenty to do down there. I'll drive down and meet you at the Giggling Goat about seven tonight. You have all day to find it. I'll see you there."
"Uh. Okay." he hesitated as he spoke. "I was kind of hoping we could talk this morning, but if you're busy."
"Yep. I'm busy. You can see I've got a million things going on. So, you go to Boone and I'll see you this evening."
She walked out of the kitchen and waited for him to follow. He picked up the cinnamon roll Henry had given him and walked to the front door. She stopped at the steps, about to head up. Joey stopped as well and put his arm around her waist, trying to pull her in for a kiss.
"No, Joey. Just. No." She pulled away and moved up one step.
"Alright, Polly. I'm sorry. I've missed you so much and it is so good to see you." He walked to the door, then turned to look at her. "I guess I'll see you tonight."
"Goodbye Joey." She walked up the steps and heard the door shut behind her. She glanced around to make sure he was gone and then heard a car turn on and drive away.
Henry was waiting at the top of the stairs. "Is everything okay, Pol?" he asked.
"Oh," she said with a faked brightness, "Everything is fine! Now, what did you need to ask me?"
"Polly. You know better than that. I've got this covered up here. Who was that and why was he asking if you guys could still be together?"
"Oh, you heard that."
"Yes, I heard that. Who is the guy and why is he here?"
Polly backed up and stood straighter. "Look, Henry. I know this town has somehow decided I need to be taken care of and I love that everyone here is so friendly, but this is a little out of bounds, don't you think?"
"Polly. I'm sorry,” Henry said. “He was making you uncomfortable and it seemed as if you didn't want to talk to him. It also seems as if you two have a history and he's trying to reignite something. If you had wanted to make something happen with him, you might have stayed in Boston. But, you didn't. You came out here. If you're hiding out here to get away from him, you're spending a hell of a lot of money on it. And that seems stupid.”
Now Polly became infuriated.
"Look,” she spat. “It's none of your damned business how much money I spend or what I spend it on. I'm not a stupid young girl who needs a man to advise her about what to do with her life. I've been doing that all on my own for a long time. I don't need you or Sheriff Merritt or Lydia or anyone else thinking I can't manage my life. If I want your help in my life, I'll ask for it. Otherwise, I'm paying you to work on my building. So, if you don't have a question for me, I have things to do."
She st
rode back down the steps and realized the tension which had left her when Henry showed up in the window of her kitchen was now back in triple measure. She wanted to cry and scream and kick something. Instead, she went back into the kitchen and pulled the third batch of dough out of the machine. She punched it a couple of times on the work table, and then grabbed the rolling pin and hit it with some force before rolling it out.
"Whoa! Who are you trying to kill?" Doug picked up a cup and poured coffee into it.
"Anyone who gets in my way." She looked up, "Are you going to get in my way?"
"Oh, hell no!" he said. He put the cup down and raised his hands in mock surrender. "I know better than that by now. What in the heck is wrong? You were fine when we left and that was, what?" he glanced at the clock, "an hour ago? Not even that. What happened this early in the morning?"
"Nothing," she snapped. "I'm just tired of people thinking I can't take care of myself."
"Okay," he said. "I'm gonna take my coffee and a roll - they smell awesome, by the way - and go to work. Billy," he said as they passed in the hall, "don't even start with her. She'll deck you with her rolling pin."
"Whazzup, ummm, Polly?" Billy smiled at her until he saw the look on her face. "Oh, Doug wasn't kidding. Anything I can do to help?"
"No, take your food and go," she muttered and rolled out the dough.
"Okay. I'll do that. If you need us, you know where we are."
"Yep, you're in my world. Everyone is always up in my world. I don't even get to sleep in my own place anymore because everyone is all up in my damned world." She hit the dough with her hand as Billy grabbed his coffee and a roll and took off.
Batch number two had risen so she put them in the oven and turned the timer on. Then she took a breath. This wasn't going to do her any good. She'd learned long ago to not get physical when she was mad, it only broke things she loved and didn't actually help matters. She took another breath and then a third deep breath. Alright. That was better. The idiots weren't going to take her down. That was her mantra for the day. And holy smokes, she had a lot of idiots in her world. They were mostly male and she was mostly tired of them.
She slathered up this batch, sprinkled the topping on and rolled it. Then she cut the rolls out and put them in the pan and covering it, set it aside to rise. She ticked off numbers in her head and decided she'd put one more batch in the machine. Too many was better than too few. While everything settled around her, she sat back down at the table with a cup of coffee. Polly took a drink and looked out on to the back yard. She couldn't wait to get that playground out of there and get some color and beauty going, but for now, at least she could see beyond to the trees lining the creek.
Polly put her head into her hands and shut her eyes. How did her life get so weird? She took a few more deep breaths and tried to force herself to relax.
"Polly?" Her head snapped up. She hadn't heard anyone walk in. It was Henry.
"Polly, I'm sorry,” he said, contrition in his voice. “I didn't mean to push you so hard about your friend."
"Oh, it's alright. And I'm sorry for freaking out. My frustration blew all over everything." She laughed. "I suppose I should go and make sure Doug and Billy are okay. They both might be afraid of my rolling pin now."
"They'll be fine. I am sorry. I should not have pushed you. Your life is your life and I have no right in it. I know that."
"Henry. Stop. It's alright,” Polly said. “I've never had people in my life who gave a hoot what I did or what happened to me. And honestly, the last guy who did was Joey and he beat someone up because he was jealous the guy helped me up when I tripped. I had to bail him out of jail for that one."
"Were you guys dating?" Henry asked.
"Up until he threatened another guy simply because he thanked me for helping him find a book." She paused. "In the library where I worked!”
She continued, "We broke up. I don't know why he's here, but I can bet it isn't to tell me what a great idea he thinks I've had putting all of this together." She put her forehead back into her left hand, rested it, then pushed her hair back.
"I suppose I was mostly angry because you were right. I probably was hiding from him. I didn't tell him where I was going or give him my phone number. I just left. If he hadn't pulled all of that crap, I might have stayed in Boston a while longer, though. I always knew I was coming back to Iowa someday. As much as I loved it out there, it wasn't my home. Even with my family all gone, my home is still here."
Polly balled up her fist and rested her cheek on it, then opened the hand and rested her chin in the palm. "Everything was going so well. I was having fun meeting people and making decisions about this place. For the first time in my life I can’t wait for Monday mornings because I get to be with new people and do new things. Now it all seems so upside down."
Henry sat down beside her and said, "You know, Pol, when you moved into Bellingwood, you leaped into the hearts of a lot of people. If we get a little pushy, it's because we're crazy about you. When you’re upside down about something, the rest of us are upside down too because we like you. A lot. We tend to take care of the people we like."
She laughed. "Yeah. I'd forgotten what it was like to have so many people around who know you. In Boston, people stare at the ground and don't look you in the eyes when you're on the street. Out here? I drive down the road and complete strangers wave at me! If I tell people I live in Bellingwood, they ask me about the school that's being redone. When I tell them who I am, they want to know everything!
"It can be a little overwhelming, but I'll get used to it again." Polly sighed and then sat up straight.
"The rolls are going to be done any second. Thanks Henry, and I am sorry."
"You're one resilient girl, Polly. You'll be fine and I'm sorry too. So, now that we're a pair of sorry people, it's probably time to get back to work." He stood up and held out his hand. She took it and he gave her a little boost while she stood. They both looked at each other and then broke as they heard the front door open and workers begin to come in.
Henry walked out and said, "Hey guys! Polly made cinnamon rolls. You're going to want to get ‘em while they’re hot!"
The timer dinged and she pulled a batch out of the oven, while sliding the third batch in. She reset the timer, then slid fresh rolls onto a plate. After a few minutes, she glazed them and put them on the counter.
Chapter Fourteen
Not only were the cinnamon rolls a huge success, but the coffee maker was ready to be emptied again. It wasn't every day Polly stood around serving the people who were working, but it felt right today. She chuckled and thought to herself that it might be penance for throwing a tantrum first thing in the morning.
Over the last few weeks, several people had asked if they could help with the coffee and she gladly showed them where to find supplies. This meant things were always cleaned and set up for the next day. All she had to do was flip a switch in the morning. Coffee was an easy way to keep a building full of workers happy.
One of the older guys, Marvin, had taken control of the pot and its cleanup. He told her he liked having an opportunity to do things for people and he didn't get to do so often enough. Polly declared it was his territory.
At nine o'clock this morning he'd come into the kitchen to check the pot. "Have you been the one making coffee today, Miss Giller?" he asked.
"Yep, that was me, Marv. Sorry if I got in your way."
He laughed. "Oh, it's your kitchen. I was only trying to be helpful. Would it be alright if I went ahead and started another one?"
"You know better than I do what these guys will drink," she smiled. "Do your thing."
"So, Miss Giller," he commented as he rinsed the parts of the pot in the large sink, "Are you doing alright with everything that's been going on in your school house? This has to be pretty upsetting."
"It is, Marv. I'm still glad that I bought it and started this project, but sometimes I wonder what I thought I was getting in to!"
&nbs
p; "I was upstairs when Dave pulled down those skeletons. That had to freak you out. I'm sorry you had to see that. You've been good to all of us and a girl like you shouldn't ever have to see that stuff. Death is a terrible business, isn't it?"
Polly looked up at him. "Yes, it is, Marv. It really is."
He didn't say anything else, finished setting the coffee up and went back to work.
Polly glanced up at the clock. Her friends were showing up at any moment to work on the items in the crates. They'd worked Monday and Tuesday afternoon, but each of them had been busy the last couple of days with their own lives. Polly looked forward to digging back into the crates. This time capsule of pop culture dated back through the sixties. When she pulled something like a charm bracelet or a framed photograph out, she wondered about the original owner and what they'd been like and what they would think of their possessions now. Would they even remember owning those things?
The first day had been an exercise in patience as the database was designed and protocols set in place for recording all the data. She wasn't sure what was going to happen to everything once it was cleared for release, but they certainly were going to have detailed records of it all. Even when they weren't working in there, a guard was left in place. She supposed that made sense. There were so many people coming and going throughout the day, it would be easy for anyone to mess with it. Every night, the guard locked all the doors to the auditorium. He took the memory card from the camera and the external drive hooked into the computer. He unlocked the doors in the morning, inserted a new card into the camera and a new external drive into the computer. Polly thought it might be overkill, but Aaron Merritt had told them that until the murder was solved or they were absolutely certain neither had anything to do with the other, this procedure was in place. She just smiled and nodded.
All Roads Lead Home (Bellingwood) Page 14