All Roads Lead Home (Bellingwood)

by Diane Greenwood Muir

  "Mine too, just in case you were wondering," Polly laughed. "Alright, let's get this over with. I'll drive. I know the way to their house."

  Chapter Six

  As they drove down the road, Lydia lamented, "I wish we had some snow. A white Christmas is so much more festive."

  "Snowstorms in the northeast can get pretty wild," Polly remarked. "But, if we get crazy snow in Boston, at least I don't have to drive. It's been so long since I've driven on county roads in the winter, I'll probably turn into a wimp."

  "I know, I know," Lydia said. "I do hate having Aaron out in the stuff and he's always the first one to go. But, when he's home and the fire is roaring and I know where all my friends and family are, I love it."

  She looked sideways at Polly, "That means you have to stay put, you know. I don't want to be worried about you this year. Got it?"

  "Got it," Polly giggled. "I promise to stay put." She pointed at a cornfield to the south where cattle were grazing on the leftover stalks. "I'd forgotten about the beauty of Iowa fields. Whether I'm looking at little green seedlings in the spring, or row after row of corn waving in a summer breeze or fields recently harvested, it’s amazing. I can't wait to start experiencing the farm cycle again. I had no idea I would miss it and honestly, I didn't know I was missing it until I got back." Polly lifted her left palm off the steering wheel and waved at an oncoming pickup truck.

  "I can see you didn't forget how to be neighborly," Lydia remarked.

  "I know, right!" Polly laughed. "The one thing I noticed first off out east was that people walked around with their heads down, barely acknowledging anyone else on earth. Out here, you are expected to pay attention, and to say hello. I don't know any of these people and it's like they simply want to tell me it's good I'm alive. Pretty wonderful, eh?"

  Lydia smiled, then reached over and patted her arm. "It is good you are alive. And yes, it's pretty wonderful." They rode in silence, then she asked, "So, how long would it have taken you to come back to Iowa if things hadn't fallen apart with Joey last spring?"

  "I don't know. For a while after Dad died, it seemed like there was no reason for me to ever come back. I was building a life. I guess back then I figured I’d finally meet someone and end up in Massachusetts for the rest of my life. The family I have here doesn't care if I'm around, so there was no reason to visit for holidays or vacations.

  "But, then all of a sudden, I felt claustrophobic in the city. There were people everywhere. Not just in my space, but everywhere. The only place I ever found real solitude was in my apartment and even then, I had to listen to stomping upstairs and music from downstairs and I could hear people walking in the halls and fighting and screaming next door. Sirens wailed down the street and cars crashed outside my windows. It was noise all the time.

  "The day I got out of the truck in front of the old school, I breathed in fresh air and heard birds and insects and nothing else. It actually took a few moments for me to hear a car drive by. I felt every muscle in my shoulders relax and I didn't have any more questions. I was going to live here forever.

  "We don't know what we've got, do we?" Lydia commented.

  "When I was in high school," Polly said, "I told Dad I would never marry a farmer. I didn't want all of the hassle involved in running a farm. The early hours; worrying about corn prices and fretting over the weather. It seemed like the worst life in the world. Dad made it easy on me, but I saw what he did and I didn't want to live like that. I wanted something exciting! I didn't want to stay in my little town and see the same people day after day. I wanted to experience what I thought would be a great big life, meeting new people all the time, going to museums and galleries. I wanted the hustle and bustle of a big city. Well, I got it and for a lot of years, I loved it.

  "But, I don't want that any more. I've had my fill," she finished.

  "You know we have museums and galleries around here," Lydia smirked.

  "Yes, and an amazingly talented artist right there in town!" Polly exclaimed. "It's such snobbery to think that Iowa doesn't have everything necessary to make a great big life. I'm glad I'm home."

  "I'm glad you are, too," Lydia said. "So, do you know where we're going?"

  "Well, it is weird, coming back here without planning to stay with Dad. I feel like a tourist driving into what used to be my home town." Polly stopped talking, then said. "And in answer to your question, I know where we're going. I'm taking the direct route and staying on good roads, rather than driving around the back way. It’s been long enough that I'm sure I would make a wrong turn and we'd end up driving in circles."

  "You know, you could get GPS," Lydia said.

  "Uh huh. I don’t think so. If I can't figure my way around Iowa roads, I will give up my navigator's badge," Polly retorted.

  "Really? You're that stubborn about it?" Lydia asked.

  "I'm really that stubborn. Give me a map and some time. I hate GPS systems. That woman is always yelling at me and she gets so mean when I make a wrong turn. 'Recalculating, recalculating' sounds more like. 'Stupid girl, you should have listened to me.' I gave my last GPS to Drea because I nearly tossed it out the window on the interstate one day."

  "You could have turned it off."

  "Right. Well, it found a new home and I'm perfectly happy without it," Polly laughed. "Alright, their home is that big white house over there on the hill. Are you ready for this?"

  "Not really," Lydia breathed, "but let's get it over with. Then I vote we go get ice cream."

  "It's a deal!" Polly said. She took a deep breath and pulled into the lane.

  "Damn it," she said.

  "What?" Lydia asked.

  "I'm worrying about it again. Do I go to the front door or the back door?" Polly turned to Lydia with a pout.

  "Figure out where the cars are. Go to that door," Lydia said and pointed to the back door.

  "You're knocking first, then," Polly said and parked the truck.

  They got out of the truck and Lydia walked up to the door. As she raised her hand to knock, Polly recognized Mrs. McKenzie already walking toward them. Lydia stayed her hand and waited until the door was opened.

  "Mrs. McKenzie?" Polly said, "I don't know if you remember me, but I'm ..."

  "Polly Giller!" she said. "What are you doing here today? I heard you were back in Iowa and bought the old school over in Bellingwood."

  "I am back," Polly said. "And yes, I did buy the old school. I've been having a lot of fun renovating it."

  "What can I do for you today?" she asked Polly and Lydia.

  "May we come in? We'd like to talk to you about a few things. Oh, and this is Lydia Merritt, a friend of mine from Bellingwood."

  "Sure! Where are my manners? Come on in." They followed her in through the mud porch, up three steps and into the kitchen.

  "Oh, this is lovely!" exclaimed Lydia. "What a beautiful view you have!"

  "Thank you," beamed Shirley McKenzie. "We renovated the kitchen three years ago and I like to spend mornings in here." She pointed at the table. "Go ahead and have a seat. Can I pour some coffee for you?"

  Lydia nodded at Polly, "I'd love some," Polly said.

  Then Lydia asked, "Mrs. McKenzie, I'd like to speak with your husband. Is he here this morning?"

  Shirley McKenzie's face took on a look of concern. "Is there something wrong? I guess I don't understand why you're here?"

  Lydia assured her, "There's nothing wrong. I'd like to speak with your husband and Polly here wants to tell you a story."

  "Well, alright. He's out in the shed working on the old mower." She poured coffee into two cups, setting one down in front of Polly and holding on to the other. "That's what he likes to do when harvest is finished. I keep trying to talk him into taking a vacation, but he won't hear of it. Tells me there will be plenty of time for that in the future."

  She set her coffee cup down on the table, pulled her cellphone out of her pants pocket and said, "Here, let me call him. He'll be on the lookout for you."

&nb
sp; "No that's alright," Lydia stopped her with a hand upraised. "I can find him." Polly knew that she didn't want the man to know what freight train might be coming at him."

  Shirley McKenzie looked a little dazed and slipped the phone back into her pocket. Lydia walked back outside and headed for the shed.

  "What's going on, Polly? Tell me why you are here today?" the woman asked.

  "Sit down, Mrs. McKenzie. I feel a little silly sitting here all by myself."

  After they were both seated, Polly asked, "When was the last time Bruce called you?"

  "Is he alright? Has something happened? What about Hannah and the children? Are they okay?" Worry filled the woman's voice.

  "He's fine. Hannah and the children are fine. So, you know about them?" Polly asked.

  Mrs. McKenzie nodded. "I do. He called me when they got married and then when they had that adorable little baby. We exchange emails, so I've seen pictures of them. Lyle doesn't know that I talk to him. It just breaks my heart, but that husband of mine has a stubborn streak a mile long and when Bruce walked away from him, he hurt his dad pretty badly. It was one of those things I could never fix."

  "Bruce needs you right now, Mrs. McKenzie …" Polly started.

  "Oh, please call me Shirley. We're way past the Mrs. McKenzie age, I think," Shirley McKenzie interrupted.

  "Alright ... Shirley. What I was trying to say was that Bruce and his family need you. He has nowhere else to go and nobody else he can turn to. He's been trying to make it alone and I think they are finally at the end of their rope," Polly said.

  "What do you mean? I thought he had a good job out in Colorado!"

  "Well, he did and Hannah had a job too, but the economy finally got to them and they've sold everything and packed their entire lives into a car and were on their way back to ask your husband for a job on the farm."

  "Oh." Shirley's shoulders drooped and she let out a sigh. "I don't know what my husband will do. This wasn't a great year on the farm either."

  "Mrs. Mck ... Shirley. They are at my place right now," Polly said.

  "What? They're in Iowa and they didn't come here?"

  "Well, there was some trouble and they ended up at my school. Neither of us knew the other was there until we recognized each other."

  "What kind of trouble? You said the children were alright?"

  "Everyone is fine. They are all staying together in an extra room I have there. Hannah is a wonderful person and Bruce seems to love all of those children a lot."

  "Oh, I know he does. He talks about Sammy and Emma like they were his own." Shirley said. "But, you said there was trouble. What kind of trouble?"

  "I should probably let Bruce tell you himself, but while he was stopped for speeding through Bellingwood, a dog found drugs hidden in his car." Polly stopped as the poor woman gasped. "He says they aren't his drugs and Hannah assures me he would never do anything like that. I tend to believe her, but right now, the sheriff is investigating. They arrested both him and Hannah and both are out on bail right now and staying with me until the sheriff can figure out what is going on."

  "Arrested? Bail?" Shirley McKenzie put her elbows on the table and dropped her head into her hands. "What is happening?"

  "What is happening is that your son needs help from his parents and you are going to have to figure out how to get your husband to come down off his self-centered high horse and think about someone else." Polly took a breath and realized she might have pushed too far.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "That was a little extreme. I shouldn't have said that."

  "No, that's alright. You didn't say anything I haven't said to him over and over again throughout the years. He let my boy go and wouldn't budge because of his pride. I hoped one day he would finally mellow out about all of this, but obviously I can't wait any longer. I don't know what I'm going to do, though."

  She thought for a moment. "I need to talk to Kevin, I suppose. He's never said much about Bruce leaving, but I know it’s been hard on him having to be the only one responsible for everything around here."

  "Is there anything they need right now?" she asked Polly.

  "Nothing other than a place to live, a job and a family to help them get through this. I think that's enough," Polly said. It occurred to her to wonder when she had gotten that snippy with people. Lydia must be rubbing off on her.

  "Is this what your friend is talking to Lyle about?" Shirley asked.

  "Yes it is. Her husband is Aaron Merritt, the Sheriff. He's gone out of his way to keep the family together while all of this is going on and she has fallen in love with those little kids," Polly responded.

  "I hope she has more luck than I do with him. He usually just walks away and keeps walking until I can't follow him any longer. By the time he gets home in the evening, we're both too tired to talk about it and neither one of us wants to fight at that point, so it's been easier to let it slip aside."

  Polly opened up her mouth to speak again, but stopped when she heard the back door slam open and Lydia stomp her feet up the steps. "Come on, Polly, we're not welcome here any longer. I think we need to go."

  "But, wait!" Shirley McKenzie said. "What happened?"

  "Your husband," Lydia spat, "is a mean, nasty man who doesn't deserve to have small children around to tell him that he is a good grandpa." She took Polly's arm and pulled her up out of the chair. "I'm sorry for being rude right now, but foul words are going to come out of my mouth and it's not fair for me to do that to you."

  She propelled Polly down the steps and out the door with Shirley following close behind, who said, "I'm so sorry he was rude to you. I'll try to talk to him and get him to see reason. I think it's about time I exercised a few rude behaviors of my own."

  "I do apologize," Lydia said. "I'm generally not like this, but that man is one angry old cuss and when he treats a woman like he treated me, my mouth comes unglued and gets me in trouble. I hope to meet you under better circumstances another time, so you can find out that I'm not quite such a bitch."

  She got in the passenger side of Polly's truck and slammed the door. Polly looked at Mrs. McKenzie and raised her eyes, "I've never seen her like this and I'm sorry that we've upset your family here. We're having a big Christmas party at the school tomorrow night for the whole town if you'd like to come over and see Bruce and Hannah and the children. You're more than welcome and we'll keep trying to figure something out, alright?"

  "Alright, dear. Thank you for stopping by to tell me what's going on." Shirley McKenzie pulled Polly into a hug. "I'm so sorry this has happened. Tell your friend she doesn't have to apologize to me. I know Lyle can be insensitive."

  Polly got in the truck and backed out of the lane. When they got on the road, Lydia threw her hands up in the air. "Polly I'm so angry right now, the only words I can think to say are mean and ugly and well ... filled with curses. That man has his ass so tightly bound up, he can't see for all the shit filling his body. I want to curse everything about him. And then I want to do it some more."

  Polly tried not to giggle. Listening to prim and proper Lydia curse was more than she could handle with a straight face, so she kept quiet.

  "Well, aren't you going to ask me what happened?" Lydia demanded.

  "Would you like me to go to Dairy Queen for some ice cream?" Polly asked.

  "Hell no. I'm too angry to eat ice cream," Lydia responded. "But, go there anyway. I might change my mind."

  Polly chuckled and turned east and drove into Story City. "Okay, what happened out there? I was having a perfectly pleasant and, shall we say, polite conversation with his wife."

  "That jackass told me I had no business bothering him about a son he had written off years ago. If said son couldn't be bothered to let him know that he was even still alive, there was no way he was going to offer any assistance or help. He didn't care if Bruce had a family. He was so wrapped up in starting his own life without his parents, he could damned well live out there on his own and make it with or without them. He, t
he old man, had made it on his own, there wasn't any way he was going to take that from a self-centered son who thought he could do it without him.

  "I might have reminded him that he was farming a family farm and hadn't ever done it on his own, he'd had a good solid start, when that set him off on another tear about how he'd been responsible to his family and had stayed here to work when everyone else took off and then he decided to tell me about his wonderful son, Kevin, who chose to stay and help with the farm.

  "That is one bitter old man and all I wanted to do was kick him in the balls just to watch him groan on the floor while I stood over him and spat. However, I restrained myself and asked about grandchildren. He told me that his perfect son, Kevin, had three children and those were enough in his life and he didn't need any more draws on his finances. If Bruce had gone out and gotten a woman pregnant and couldn't support her, that was his problem, not his father's problem.

  "Oh Polly, it was awful. It was like he couldn't see any reason at all. All he could see was that he had been betrayed by his son. It was almost as if he had wanted to leave when he was Bruce's age and because the kid actually did it, the dad can't forgive him.

  Lydia took a breath. "Wow, I never get that angry. I'm usually the mediator in these situations. That man worked me up. I couldn't find anything in him anywhere that would give his son a break. I kept trying and trying to find a soft place and it just wasn't there." Lydia rolled her shoulders and neck, and then slumped back in the seat. "I have probably made it worse and that wasn't my intention. And then, I was mean to his poor wife. How does she live with a jackass like that?

  "And you know what he said before I walked away from him? He told me I was a nosy old woman who probably had better things to do than try to fix his life. Old? I am NOT old. I might be nosy, but he was rude!"

  Polly glanced at her friend, "Are you done?"

  Lydia shook her head. "Oh, I'm done, alright. I should never have started this morning."