“Yeah, and I was angry with them for allowing him to work himself sick in the cranberry bog. I saw the condition of the house he came home to every night. I was so mad at Grandmother for letting him live like that. It was pitiful.”
“Maybe you should have moved down from Eugene to help out.” Erin eyed Meg with a look that was more curiosity than accusation.
“Erin, I’ve struggled with that exact thought for years. I did blame myself. When I got down here, I couldn’t believe his house. Piles of filthy dirty dishes, and he’d been eating out of pots and pans. A laundry heap that had been there for weeks—there wasn’t a single clean piece of clothing left in his closet, and his sheets were brown. Erin, they were brown with ground-in grime. It was so sad and disgusting. I could have died when I thought of him coming home to that, day after day. But, Erin, I was only seventeen, just a kid. They were the grown-ups; shouldn’t they have done something?”
“Think about it, Meggie.” Erin took a sip of her soda. “In those days, they rarely thought of anyone other than themselves.”
“I’d just been down during the summer, and things hadn’t been like that. If only I’d known…” Meg swallowed hard. “The worst part is, during that time I never even wrote or called him. I didn’t even come for harvest. Grandmother said I broke his heart. Maybe I did.” It was too late; the tears were coming now.
The roar of a pickup truck sounded from the front, and a door slammed.
Erin touched Meg’s arm. “You’ve had a long day, Meg. Why don’t you give yourself a little break before dinner? I’ll show you the guest room, and you can lie down and relax a bit. You can meet Tom later.”
“Thanks, Erin. I’m really sorry I kept away all this time.”
She was sorry. Deeply sorry. Here all along had been this wonderful sister, yet she’d deprived herself of the friendship they could have had. She was the one who had sent the cold, brief letters, until Erin had finally kept her notes short and impersonal, too. Why had she been so stupid and stubborn? Where in the world had it gotten her?
FIVE
Like the rest of the house, the guest room was lovely, with sponge-painted walls in a soft shade of cream and a hand-painted border of ivy around the ceiling. Each ivy leaf was exquisite, with many shades of green blended to perfection. It looked like a real plant. It was obvious that Erin had poured her artistic nature into this home.
Once again, Meg felt an unwanted surge of envy. She had worked so hard putting herself through college, then throwing herself into her career. Now what did she have to show for it? A tiny apartment filled with odds and ends, a designer wardrobe suitable for the office, and, of course, her car. But what was that compared to this? She had no husband or children, and no real home.
She flopped across the bed and stared at the ceiling. Jerred and San Francisco seemed so very far away. Almost unreal. In her memory, Jerred seemed like some nondescript character from a movie that she could barely remember. Had she ever truly known him? What would life have been like if Tiffany hadn’t come along and they had gotten married after all? Not like this, surely. And how long would it have been until another “Tiffany” came along? No, it was best that she had escaped Jerred. But what about the rest of her life? Was there anything left in San Francisco worth clinging to? Had she ever really been happy? Her success had been somewhat fulfilling, but what did it mean once she left the office and went home?
She closed her eyes and tried to imagine what kind of a life she would want if she could start all over again. Would money be as important? Where would family fit in? Her life seemed so unsettled, and perhaps now, more than ever, she longed for some stability—something she could cling to, something that would give her roots. But what was it? And where was it? Questions continued to tumble through her mind as she fell asleep. In a half dream, the kind that she always remembered and where she seemed to have some control over the outcome, she found herself chasing several different things all at once and not catching any. In the end she didn’t even know what it was that she was chasing.
“Aunt Meggie?” Meg opened her eyes to a round little face peering at her. Chubby fingers touched her arm softly. “Mommy said to tell you it’s almost time for dinner.”
“Thank you, Ashley.” Meg sat up and rubbed her eyes in the semi-dark room. Ashley, highlighted by a long slat of light pouring in from the hallway, stood looking at her with a puzzled expression, but saying nothing.
“Is something wrong, Ashley?” asked Meg, turning on the small lamp next to the bed.
Ashley nodded. “Mommy says I look like you. But you’re all growed up. You’re not a girl like me.”
Meg laughed. “Your mommy’s probably remembering when I was little like you. You see, I was a little girl once, and I probably did look a lot like you.” She tousled the carrot red curls. She’d never spent much time with children. In fact, she couldn’t remember ever having had a real conversation with a child.
Ashley lowered her chin and said shyly, “I think you’re pretty, Aunt Meggie.”
Meg smiled. “I think you’re pretty too, Ashley.” Meg wondered if anyone had ever told her she was pretty as a child. She didn’t remember such a thing. Grandpa used to say she was a hard worker, a smart and sturdy girl, but never pretty. She hoped Ashley wouldn’t grow up hearing only those things.
Downstairs Meg was introduced to her brother-in-law, and instantly liked him. Tom seemed so down-to-earth, and it was plain to see he adored his wife and daughters. A big man with dark hair and beard and friendly blue eyes, he spoke with obvious enjoyment about his work as a contractor. After a pleasant dinner, Jennifer and Hannah began clearing the table, and Tom started a fire in the big rock fireplace. Erin excused herself to help Ashley get ready for bed.
“I’ve already told Erin at least ten times what a beautiful home this is,” said Meg, “but I haven’t told you, Tom. It’s really wonderful. Erin says you did most of the work yourself.”
“Yeah, it was quite a project. But Erin and I worked together, and, well, it turned out all right.” He threw a log on the fire and looked around the spacious living room. “There was a time in life I thought we’d never get ahead. I suppose you heard all about that crazy commune; then we lived in that awful trailer during the recession when I could hardly find work. It hasn’t always been like this.”
Meg laughed. “Yeah, I remember when Erin went to live in the commune. I thought she’d lost her mind.”
He scratched his beard and chuckled. “It does seem strange now, but you know, there’s something to be said about some of the values in the commune. Those people did believe in sharing. But unfortunately they started sharing drugs—and even spouses, come to think of it. We were real lucky to get out when we did. Then the girls came along, and we knew we wanted to provide them with something more. Erin never felt like she’d had much of a home. I suppose you know how that goes. She wanted more for our girls. Of course, I did, too.” He rubbed his hand over the hand-carved oak mantel. Erin had already explained how all the woodwork had been painstakingly done by Tom.
“Well, this is certainly more than we ever had as girls, Tom. I know Erin appreciates it.”
“Do you ever hear from your father, Meg? I know Erin doesn’t seem to care much about him. But sometimes I wonder…”
“I tried to track him down once when I was in college. I hoped maybe I could get him to help out financially. I sent a letter to the only address I’d ever had from him; it was off an old birthday card that I’d clung to for years. But my letter came back unopened and stamped ‘No Such Address.’”
“I asked Sunny about him once, and she said she thought he was somewhere on the East Coast. But you can never tell with Sunny.”
Meg sighed. “I see you know her pretty well.”
After Erin rejoined them, they visited on into the night, remembering old times, catching up, and laughing about anything and everything. Before long, Meg felt at home with both of them. They seemed to have the ingredients for what s
he would consider a pretty good marriage, although she’d never actually seen one up close before. She hadn’t even believed such a thing existed. Meg knew that if she had married Jerred, it would have been rocky at best, and probably nowhere near as good as what Erin and Tom had.
“How long have you two been married?” asked Meg.
“You mean legally married, with a license and all?” asked Tom with a twinkle in his eye. “You know me and my old lady had been shacked up quite a few years before she made me tie the knot.”
Erin chucked a pillow at him. “I was never your ‘old lady,’ and you know it! And if I remember right, you’re the one who decided it was time to get married.”
Tom turned to Meg and grinned. “We met on the commune about sixteen years ago. The first time I saw Erin, she had this long black braid down her back, and she was making a huge pot. I can still see her kicking that wheel with her bare feet, and the mud splattering off the wet clay, just coating her arms and face.” He looked at his wife with tenderness. “I always was a softy for girls that liked to play in the dirt. And that’s when I fell in love.”
Erin smiled at him and continued the story. “It wasn’t too long after Tom joined the commune that we both got pretty fed up with all the drugs that were taking over. That’s when we decided to leave. Then we lived together for a few years. Grandmother was absolutely livid. Such a scandal. She wouldn’t even speak to us. But Sunny was okay with it.”
Meg laughed. “Why does that not surprise me?”
“Sure, I was just following in her footsteps, right? Well, fortunately, Tom and I still loved each other by the time I became pregnant with Jenny. About that time we joined a church and started to see life differently. That’s when we made it official. Probably not the best way to start a marriage, with a baby on the way, and we’ve certainly had our tough times. But we both give God the credit for keeping us together and making our marriage great. We celebrated ten official years in December.”
“Seems like only yesterday,” Tom said sincerely. Then he stood and yawned. “Well, this working boy needs to hit the hay. I’m real glad you’ve come home, Meg. And you’re welcome to stay with us as long as you like.”
“That goes double for me, Meg,” said Erin. “We still have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Thanks, you two. I appreciate the hospitality. I’d really planned to stay in a hotel, but I must admit this is much nicer.”
That night, Meg lay in bed replaying Erin’s words about giving God the credit. When had Erin gotten acquainted with God? It was Meg who used to be what everyone else called religious. As a teenager, she’d gone to church with Grandpa every chance she got. God had seemed very real then, but somewhere—probably when Grandpa died—she had lost him. And she’d not been able to find him since.
SIX
The next morning, Meg woke to rain pelting against the window. She looked out to see the two older girls, in bright raincoats and rubber boots, scurrying down the driveway to climb aboard the waiting yellow bus that had already honked its horn twice. In a swoosh of mist and squeaking brakes, they were gone.
Meg looked at her watch. It was half past seven. Normally she’d be in the office by now, probably working on the Lindsey account. Well, that was no longer her problem. She quickly dressed, then sat down. What would she do today? Unaccustomed to leisure, she suddenly felt uneasy. Vacations were foreign to her, and an extended leave of absence was almost frightening. What was she doing to her life?
She took a deep breath and looked out the window again, telling herself it was okay to take it easy for a change. It was the same thing her therapist had been telling her for months, and at fifty bucks an hour. She had to admit, there was something soothing about this place: the yellow school bus, the big fir trees dripping on the black driveway, brightly colored blooms in the flower beds. Erin’s house was so provincial, so homey; it begged her to slow down. Yet she’d never managed to slow down in her entire adult life. Would it be possible?
Erin and Meg ate a pleasant breakfast and slowly sipped their second cup of coffee. They talked and talked. Meg mostly talked about Sunny and how frustrating it was to have her for a mother. Sunny, the perennial child, never taking responsibility for relationships, as flighty as a grasshopper, loud and brash, and hopelessly selfish. Suddenly, Meg grew aware of little Ashley sprawled on the floor at their feet, coloring a pair of tigers in a Noah’s ark coloring book. Erin did not shoo her away as she had the older girls yesterday when they had discussed sensitive subjects. Maybe Erin thought that younger ears heard less, but Meg knew from experience this wasn’t true. Finally, she steered her conversation away from Sunny. She didn’t want to be the one to blame for turning a little girl against her grandma. After all, she knew what that was like. Instead, she began to tell Erin about what she’d been doing for the past nineteen and a half years. She even mentioned Jerred and the reasons for her unexpected leave of absence.
“Wouldn’t it be hard to go back and work there after all that?” asked Erin as she wiped the countertop.
“I don’t know. It’s such a different life there. People come and go, and change, and it’s all just part of the process. I think I could fit back in if I really wanted to.”
“Do you want to?”
“I’m not sure that I do. But on the other hand, I don’t know that I’m ready to give it all up, either. Besides, I don’t really know what else I’d do. If I got a job in another agency, it probably wouldn’t be nearly so high up. Although it might not take too long to work up, if I worked hard…” She sighed. The thought of starting over was almost sickening. Suddenly, she felt as if she were an old woman, over-the-hill and rolling down the other side fast, her best years behind her.
“Enough talk of work,” announced Erin. “You’re on vacation right now. You don’t need to think about work. I have to take Ashley to a birthday party around eleven; you want to come along? We could look around town, get some lunch.”
“Sure. But I promised to go back to see Grandmother today. It was so different yesterday. For the first time, we almost seemed to hit it off. I couldn’t believe it. I don’t want to miss out on that while I still have the chance. What exactly is wrong with her, anyway? I know she’s old, but…”
“I think the only real thing wrong with her is our cousin Abner,” said Erin. “Ever since he got it into his head to sell off the bog, he’s treated her like an invalid or like she’s going senile. Oh sure, she’s always had that thing with her heart, even when we were kids. But up until last year she had been as healthy as a horse.” Erin glanced down at Ashley and lowered her voice. “Meggie, I actually think Abner wants her to die so he can have the place to do with as he likes. I know it’s horrible and suspicious, and not very Christian of me, but I just don’t trust him.” Erin’s eyes flashed the same way they used to when she was a teen getting all worked up over some new cause on the university campus.
“Really? Do you think Abner has something to do with her health?”
“Oh, I don’t know. It’s not like he’s putting arsenic in the well. But I have to admit that I’ve never really liked our cousin. He’s sort of slippery. Look around Grandmother’s house and try and remember how many antiques there used to be. Abner has confiscated most of them. I don’t know what he does, but my guess is that he sells them to buy his booze. I try and try not to judge him, Meggie. I do want to accept him, but he’s always involved in something. Even Sunny says he’s just like his dad.”
“You mean Bennie? I thought Bennie was supposed to have been such a great guy and all.”
“You’re still living in childhood memories. Ask some old-timers, and you may hear about a different Bennie. I guess he and Grandpa never got along too well. I think Bennie was sort of a mama’s boy, and maybe that’s what came between Grandmother and Grandpa. But then I’m sure that’s another story. There’s lots we don’t know, Meggie. Lots that we can only speculate about. But stick around, and maybe we can figure it all out.”
&n
bsp; “Aunt Meggie?” asked Ashley, tugging at Meg’s arm. “You wanna see my room? I made my bed all by myself.”
“What a great idea, Ash,” exclaimed Erin. “In fact, why don’t you give Aunt Meggie a tour of the whole house while I go take a shower. If she wants to, that is.”
“I’d love it,” said Meg. “I’ve been dying to see all the things you’ve done with this marvelous house, Erin.”
They started with Ashley’s room. It was yellow and blue, with rabbits and daisies stenciled along the wall right at a child’s eye level, obviously the careful handiwork of Erin again. A cozy, padded window seat invited a little girl to curl up with a picture book.
“Oh, Ashley, I love your room. It’s perfect.”
“This is Molly.” Ashley pulled a well-loved rag doll from inside her lumpily made bed and held her up proudly.
“Hello, Molly,” said Meg, shaking the little hand of the rag doll. “I certainly hope we didn’t wake you.”
Ashley giggled and laid Molly back down, this time on top of the pillow. She then took Meg by the hand and showed her the other girls’ rooms, much like her own, but each with a different color scheme and each with its own special personality. Hannah’s was lavender and green, and a bit messy, but more cluttered than sloppy. Jenny’s room was peach and aqua, and very tidy; even her shoes were lined up in the closet. A mural of a little English cottage and flower garden filled one wall. Meg marveled at how pretty the girls’ rooms were—they looked like something from a magazine. At the end of the hallway was a nice, roomy bathroom shared by all three girls. Ashley explained that they each had their own special color for towels, washcloths, and toothbrushes.
“One time, I got mixed up and I used Jenny’s toothbrush instead of mine,” Ashley said sheepishly. “But I never told Jenny.”
They walked past the guest room where Meg was staying, with its own private bath. Meg knew she could be comfortable here for a while, but she didn’t plan to impose on their hospitality.
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