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Through the Storm (Bellingwood Book 8)

Page 15

by Diane Greenwood Muir


  Polly nodded. She wasn't sucking Henry into that. One dinner at a time. "Are you sure that I can't bring anything?"

  "No, not a thing. Just come over and wear comfortable clothing. You don't need to dress up for us," Jean said.

  "We'll be here. Thanks again."

  The two waved as she and Obiwan started back down the street toward Sycamore House. She turned around at the highway and waved back, then crossed and jogged to the front steps.

  "Well, that was interesting," she said to the dog. "Those poor people must not have anyone else around to talk to." They always had something to say to her when she walked by. More often than not, she stopped for a few minutes in front of their house to discuss something they had heard on the news or maybe the weather. How lonely it would be to live like that.

  She sat down on the cold concrete step and took her phone back out of her pocket, swiped it and waited.

  "Hey sweet stuff," Henry said. "Everything still okay over there?"

  "If you're asking if Anthony Donovan has shown up, the answer is no, so things are okay. But it's been a morning."

  "Anything you need help with?"

  "Nope. But I hope you aren't mad at me, I just agreed to go over to this old couple's house for dinner tomorrow night."

  "You what?"

  "It's an old couple I see on Pierce Street whenever Obiwan and I walk that way. They came off their porch today and asked if we would come to dinner. She's making apple pie and he's buying ice cream. Are you mad that I said yes without asking you?"

  He laughed, "Of course not. That should be interesting. Do you even know who they are?"

  "It's Sam and Jean something. Oh, and we're playing cards after dinner."

  "We are, are we?"

  "And they want to do this often."

  "What did you say to that?"

  "Not a word. I just let it float away. I thought I should talk to you before agreeing to a lifetime of dinner and cards."

  "Well, thanks for that."

  "Do you know what their last name is?" Polly asked, giggling a little.

  "No. I have no idea who this is. I'll ask Mom when I get back to the shop. You said they're on Pierce?"

  "Yeah. I didn't look at the house number, though. I can walk right to it."

  "I love you, Polly Giller."

  "Well, thank you for not getting mad at me. I think maybe they really need friends or something."

  "Now you're rescuing old people. At least this time there's a good meal in it for me."

  "I can't guarantee the good meal, but he guaranteed pie and ice cream."

  "That will do. I love you and I'll be home later."

  "Rebecca and I are going to Boone, but we'll be back for dinner."

  "I'll make something."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah. I can do that."

  "I love you."

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Relaxing on the sofa with her legs tucked underneath her, Polly waited for Henry to get out of the shower. He'd called his mother and learned that they were planning to visit Sam and Jean Gardner this evening. Polly felt much better about having a last name to go with the couple she'd grown to know this last year. She wasn't sure how she possibly could have rectified that oversight without embarrassing herself or them.

  After visiting her mother in the hospital in Boone, Rebecca went out to Eliseo's with Sylvie and Andrew for the night. Polly gave a slight smile. She really did enjoy being alone with Henry. Hopefully they wouldn't stay out too late tonight and have some time to themselves.

  The last two days had flown by. Anthony Donovan hadn't shown up yet and it was driving Sylvie nuts. She jumped out of her skin every time someone startled her and looked up at every sound. After his short conversation with Andrew Monday night, there hadn't been another peep out of the man.

  The conversation with Sylvie and Eliseo had been uncomfortable to say the least, but it was over and both of them had a better understanding of what had happened to Jason. Sylvie had scheduled a meeting with the school counselor ... once she calmed down. She wasn't sure what good it would do, but she would insist that documentation be entered into his file regarding the harassment he had suffered. Polly had no idea what was going to happen between Eliseo and Sylvie, but at least Sylvie wasn't fleeing from his home. That had to be positive. Either that, or she weighed the fear of her ex-husband against the fear of starting a new relationship and made a decision based on the lesser of two evils.

  Polly sent a text and one more Facebook message to Jessie, wanting the girl to know that she was concerned. No response to any of it yet. That frustrated Polly to no end. If you're going to run away, just be up front about it and admit that you want something different than what you have. The other stuff was just idiocy.

  "Dress up nice or dress up casual?" Henry asked.

  Polly turned around. He was framed in the door in just his shorts.

  "Um, skip the whole dressing thing completely and I'll call in sick?" she said.

  He ducked behind the door and poked his head out. "You just want me for my body. I feel so objectified."

  "Whatever. Dress nice casual. Your black jeans look good with a casual shirt."

  "So you're not helping."

  "Did you lose your head when we got married? I have to dress you now?" Polly shook her head. Sometimes men were just dopes.

  "Should we take something with us?" he called out from the bedroom.

  "Don't worry. I've got it covered."

  "Wine?"

  "I don't know if they drink or not. No, I'm taking a couple of Sycamore House t-shirts and a mason jar candle."

  Henry walked out, fully dressed except for his shoes and socks and sat down on the couch. "Those mason jars have been used a couple of times, isn't that a little tacky?"

  "The jar is clean and I re-made the candle. It's pretty and she'll like it, so there."

  He grinned up at her. "I'm just poking at ya. That sounds nice. Are we walking over?"

  "It's only a couple of blocks and it's a nice evening. Don't you think?"

  "Sure." He slid his foot into a shoe. "This feels weird."

  "Maybe it's on the wrong foot."

  "No, you dope, going to someone's house I don't know. Whenever we go out, it's with our friends."

  "It looks like we're making new friends. Are you nervous?"

  "That's not it. It just feels ... different." He stood up and shook out his pant legs. "Well, shall we? Do you think we need jackets?"

  "Who are you?" Polly asked, laughing. "Why would we need jackets? It's in the seventies outside."

  "I don't know. We always take the truck whenever we go places. I feel ..."

  "Weird, I know. It's a good thing you're taking me with you."

  Henry kissed her nose. "You always make things easier."

  Polly laughed and snorted through her nose. "Yeah. Uh huh. That sounds like me. I have never made life easier for you."

  "You're right. I was exaggerating. But it is a lot more fun when you're around."

  "I'll buy that." She turned around to check the animals. The cats were on the cat tree in the bedroom and Obiwan was curled up where she'd left him on the sofa. "We'll be back in a while. Hold down the fort," she said to him. He thumped his tail.

  The front door of the Gardner home opened as they walked up the sidewalk and Sam came out onto the porch. "Welcome, welcome!" he said. "I was just telling Sebastian that we should be seeing you come down the street any minute now. Come in and make yourselves at home."

  "Who's Sebastian?" Henry whispered.

  "The dog. Be good."

  The basset hound harrumphed a couple of times and Sam shushed him, but smiled proudly as Sebastian wagged his tail nearly off his body, waiting for someone to pat his head. "He's very friendly. We just don't let him loose or he might never come home. Especially if he started chasing a dog the likes of your Obiwan."

  "I'm sure Sebastian wouldn't stay away very long. It looks as if he has a good thing going here," Po
lly said, pointing to a corner of the living room that was obviously where the dog resided. A large beanbag chair was covered with a couple of blankets, there was a basket of dog toys and the shades on the corner windows were pulled up just enough so the dog had a clear view of the world outside.

  "He likes to greet the mailman. Well, the mail woman. She always has a treat for him and he loves her."

  "Smart mail person," Henry acknowledged.

  "Get in your bed, Sebastian," Sam ordered and pointed to the beanbag. The dog finally waddled over and clambered into it, rustling around until he had made himself completely comfortable.

  "Come on into the dining room. Jean is nearly ready. Can I get you a beer, Henry? A soda or juice, Polly?"

  "I'll just have water," Polly said.

  "That sounds great." Henry sat down beside Polly.

  Jean stuck her head out of the kitchen door. "We'll be right there. Don't move. Just be comfortable. We don't have guests very often and I've had a wonderful day making dinner. I'm so glad you're here."

  "They just want water, Jean. Let me in and I'll pour that for them."

  When he was out of earshot, Polly turned to Henry. "How come he didn't offer me a beer?"

  "Because you're a delicate flower and delicate flowers don't drink things as common as beer," Henry replied, laughing. "Here, let me take the gift. I'll put it under my chair."

  "Seriously. I can do that, too. I feel like you all are desperately trying to remind me that I'm a girl. I can take care of myself." She swatted his leg. "You be good."

  Sam returned with the glasses of water and took a seat across from Polly. "How was your day?" he asked.

  "It was a good day. How about you?" Polly responded.

  "Jean had me running around all day cleaning. I put my foot down and made her do the vacuuming. I'm not very good at that."

  His wife carried in two covered platters and put them in the middle of the table, then returned to the kitchen, to return with another dish. When she left the room again, Henry jumped up.

  "I'll help you, Mrs. Gardner."

  "Oh leave her to it. She loves to serve," Sam said, shaking out his napkin and placing it in his lap.

  Henry ignored him and followed Jean into the kitchen, returning with a basket of rolls and a bowl filled with salad. They made two more trips and Jean patted him on the back.

  "You are such a good helper, Henry. Thank you."

  He held her chair for her and then took a seat.

  "Henry enjoys cooking," Polly said. "He's better about finding time to do that than I am. I'm much more apt to order a pizza. And he is so much better at cleaning up than me. I'd let the dishes sit for a day, but he cleans all the time."

  "I can't let Sam clean. He is forever putting the dishes in the wrong rack in the dishwasher."

  "After all these years, I'll bet he puts them in the wrong place just so he won't have to help," Polly said and winked at Sam.

  He looked at her in shock, recognizing that he'd just been called out, but asked, "What did you make for us tonight, mother?"

  Jean began uncovering dishes and placing the lids on a dresser beside her. There was chicken noodle soup, a tossed salad, bread and rolls, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, a squash casserole, sliced ham and an orangey fluffy salad.

  "You're going to kill me," Henry said.

  "Be sure to save room for dessert. I've made apple pie and rhubarb cobbler."

  Polly started to chuckle and pretty soon she was laughing out loud.

  "What is it, dear?" Jean asked.

  "You're amazing. I haven't had a meal like this in years, except for those that Sylvie cooks at Sycamore House." She turned to Sam. "Do you eat like this all the time?"

  "No, not all the time. It's just the two of us, but she never fails to put out a good meal."

  "Eat up," Jean said. "Don't let it get cold."

  They dug in and listened as Sam told stories of his days teaching at Iowa State. Polly gulped back surprise upon learning that he had quite a few articles published in horticulture and ecology. Retirement had been difficult for him, but after ten years, he was content to let that part of his life be in the past.

  "What do you think of the garden at Sycamore House?" Polly asked.

  "The ladies have done a nice job with it. It's very attractive," he said.

  "I'm surprised you weren't involved."

  "No one asked and I don't like to horn in. They did just fine."

  "Are you involved with the garden club or anything?"

  "No. It's not something I'm interested in. There's more to a garden than pretty flowers."

  Polly started to open her mouth and Henry gently laid his hand on her knee. She brushed it aside and went on. "Have you met Eliseo Aquila?"

  "The man who cares for your grounds? No, I haven't."

  "I'll bet he would love your input. Did you see the garden he has behind Sycamore House?"

  "We walked past it once or twice."

  "He wants to expand it. You know he uses a horse to pull the plow. Next year he's thinking of putting more into that rough pasture land we bought on the other side of the creek."

  "You bought that?" Sam perked up. "I'd be glad to talk to him. You really should do some things to help stop erosion of those creek walls. I could draw up some plans."

  "Let me talk to him and we'll set up a time for the two of you to meet. I'm sure he'd love input."

  Jean interrupted. "We were very sorry to hear of your uncle's death, Henry. He was a good man."

  "You knew Uncle Loren?"

  "Of course we did," she said. "And that poor Jim Todd."

  "Wait. You knew both of those men?" Polly asked.

  "Certainly. They were part of a card club we belong to."

  "Uncle Loren played cards?" Henry sat back. "In a club?"

  "Twice a month on Friday nights."

  "Uncle Loren played cards with people? That just doesn't sound like him."

  "Sometimes you kids don't know everything there is to know about your elders."

  "I don't think Mom and Dad or Aunt Betty even know about this."

  "He was there every week."

  "Where did you play?" Polly asked.

  "We meet in different places. It's all on a schedule. Community halls, churches, restaurants. None of us want to admit we're senior citizens, but we all like to do the same things. Not everyone comes every time, but it gives us a good opportunity to get to know people from around the area"

  "I had no idea," Henry muttered.

  Polly patted his hand. "Can you think of any reason why Loren and Jim were killed? It seems strange that both of them were involved in the same activity."

  Sam and Jean Gardner looked at each other, trying to imagine any dark purpose behind their deaths. Sam spoke first, "I can't think of anything right offhand. How long ago was that?"

  Jean responded. "It was during the tornado, wasn't it?"

  Henry and Polly both nodded.

  "We played that Friday night. Where was that?" Jean asked her husband. "Never mind. Let me get the schedule. I can tell you for sure."

  She went into the front room and when she sat down at her desk, Sebastian slid off his chair and thumped his tail on the floor, looking for attention.

  "Yes, old man, I will put you outside. Give me a minute." She spoke loudly to those in the dining room. "I have the schedule memorized for the rest of the year, and that means I've tucked this away somewhere so I won't lose it." She continued to riffle the papers and sort through stacks on top of the desk.

  "Here it is. Come on, Sebastian. I'll give you a cookie before you go. Outside?"

  He ran his big old body across the floor to the kitchen.

  "He'll do anything for a cookie."

  "He's why I don't have a garden out back," Sam grumped. "He digs everything up."

  Jean put the schedule down in front of Polly. "I'll be right back," she said.

  When she returned to the table, Sam passed the dishes of food around again.
Polly tried not to groan. She hurt by this point. How she was ever going to get through dessert was beyond her.

  "It looks as if you were in Stanhope that night," Polly said, passing the paper back to Jean.

  Sam intercepted it and scanned through the listing. "That's right, remember? That was the night the group from Ames joined us. We had a big bridge club battle."

  "A battle?"

  "It was just a large tournament," Jean said. "They promoted it as the Big Bridge Battle. There were prizes and everything."

  "Did Loren and Jim Todd play on the same team?" Polly asked.

  The two looked at each other again, trying to remember details of that evening.

  "I can't say for sure," Jean finally said. "They weren't a regular team, but everything was out of kilter that evening and so many people were there, it was hard to pay attention to everyone. We came home with a basket of fruit and a gift certificate to Hickory Park. Each person's entrance fee was a door prize. There were some pretty nice prizes, too. We took a certificate for a live tree from ISU's tree farm and I gave a lap blanket that I quilted. There were computers and televisions, some jewelry and other gift certificates. It was quite a lively event."

  "It sounds like it," Polly said. "Oh, I almost forgot. I have something for you."

  "We told you not to bring anything," Jean said.

  "It's not much, but I thought you might like something from Sycamore House." She handed the box over to Jean, who opened it.

  "These are wonderful," she exclaimed. "Sam, will you look at this. We'll fit right in with the kids now."

  Henry chuckled. "I'm guessing you could fit in with the kids no matter what you wore."

  "Oh you, you're such a smooth talker. Now how about some dessert?"

  Polly groaned and put her hand on her belly. "I don't know how I can eat anything else. This was all so wonderful."

  "Surely there's room for a little piece of pie or maybe some cobbler?"

  She looked at Henry and he smiled back at her, and then said, "I was more careful than you. I'd love pie and maybe a bite of the cobbler."

  "I like this one, Sam. He knows how to make a woman happy. Does he make you happy, Polly?"

  "All the time. Even when he drives me crazy."

 

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