An Allegheny Homecoming

by T. R. McClure

  “Delete? Are you kidding? That was great.” He made to pack up his equipment. “Let’s go inside and grab a cup of coffee before we take off. You know, maybe you should consider staying here tonight. Aren’t your folks out of town and isn’t your house pretty far out in the country?”

  Wendy laughed. “A cup of coffee I’ll do. But no way am I sleeping on a cot tonight.”

  * * *

  “JOSH? JOSHUA ORION HUNTER. Is that really you?”

  Great. His own mother didn’t recognize him. Josh wiped a hand over his face, as if by doing so he would erase the dark beard and longish hair. “Mom, what are you doing—” he waved one hand in the direction of the candles on the table “—here?”

  Suzanna Campbell Hunter threw back the quilt. She wore a pair of khakis and a white cotton blouse. “We got locked in.” She glanced to her left.

  Only then did Josh notice the man on the couch under a wool blanket.

  His mother continued. “This is Joe Kowalsky. He owns the tea shop.” She paused, took a few hesitant steps in Josh’s direction, and then raced forward. “What am I thinking? Oh, Joshua, I’m so glad to see you.” She threw her arms around his neck.

  With a hard look at the man on the bed, Josh wrapped his arms around his mother and squeezed. He was shocked. What had happened to the soft, plump woman he remembered her being his whole life? This woman was slight and small. The mop of hair under his chin was almost white. He eased out of her tight hold and touched an errant curl. “What happened to your blond hair?”

  Sue’s mouth tightened, and she let out a sigh. “This is my natural color. I stopped dyeing my hair.” She lifted her chin. “I only did it to please your father, and now I just have to please myself.”

  When Josh’s gaze dropped from the almost white hair to the pale blue eyes, she stopped talking. Although Josh knew why they separated, neither of his parents had talked to him about it. He still couldn’t believe his mother lived above the bakery. “How are you, Mom?”

  The defiant look in her eyes dropped, and she smiled. “I’m fine, honey.” There was his mother. She had one of the prettiest smiles he had ever seen. He remembered the stranger on the couch. He strode across the room, hand outstretched. “I’m Josh Hunter.”

  Throwing back the dark blanket, the man stood and reached for Josh’s hand. He was tall and thin, with brown hair and hazel eyes. He wore a pair of rectangular black glasses. Although he didn’t appear muscular, his grip was strong. “Joe Kowalsky. Your mother came down to help me carry up some supplies, and the branch broke off that silver maple in the parking lot. We were stuck. All we did was play a couple of games of checkers. Neither of us had a phone and—”

  Josh held up his hand. “Why don’t we hold the explanations until later? That snow out there is coming down hard. Let me get you to shelter. My truck’s parked across the street.”

  His mother gripped his arm. “But, Josh, what are you—”

  “Later, Mom.” He looked around. “Do either of you have a coat?”

  With a shy glance at the tall man, his mother chuckled. “I don’t usually need a coat.”

  Josh puzzled over the faint pink flush on his mother’s cheeks. He shrugged. “Let’s lock up and find out where there’s shelter set up.”

  “Probably the church basement. They have a generator.”

  He blew out two of the votive candles. “Does Dad still have one at the house?” When he didn’t hear a reply, he turned around.

  Her mouth tight, his mother folded the quilt. He dismissed any possibility of going home. He glanced in Joe’s direction. “I guess you don’t have a coat, either, then.”

  “Upstairs. I just came down here for a minute.”

  “Let’s make sure all these candles are out, get packed up and lock the doors.” He glanced around at the stacks of sealed boxes. “I wonder if they’ll have food at the church.”

  Joe and his mother looked at each other before Joe reached for one of the boxes. “Good point, Josh. You say you have a truck?”

  “I have a cake that the Foxes ordered for an anniversary party. We’ll take that, too.” Sue started toward the back door.

  “Wait for me, Mom, I have a light.” He opened the door, and a gust of cold air blew into the basement. “Oh, by the way, I think I let a cat into your bakery.”

  His mother shrugged. “That’s just Mister Cee.” She started up the steps.

  “Excuse me?”

  She turned. “Cappuccino Cat. We call him Mister Cee.” She disappeared up the steps into the darkness.

  Josh shook his head. As if his parents’ separation weren’t enough of a surprise, now he discovered that his animal-avoiding mother had no problem with a cat living in the bakery. He shook his head. What else had happened in the time he had been gone?

  * * *

  PHIL HAD PRACTICALLY gulped down his hot coffee and had one arm in his monogrammed station jacket before Wendy could say much. She lifted her own cardboard cup of steaming coffee. “How did you finish your coffee so fast, Phil?”

  He shrugged. “Working father of two. I do everything fast. See ya later, champ.” Empty jacket sleeve trailing behind him, Phil disappeared out the door.

  “Wendy, would you like a ham sandwich?” Holly’s mother came up to the table with a tray.

  Wendy remembered Holly’s mom was meant to be on her way to the hospital. “Sure. But can I help you out, Mrs. Hoffman?”

  The petite woman smiled, lifted the tray and said, “Have your sandwich first, dear.”

  Wendy quickly bit into the sandwich, relishing the fresh bread and spicy mustard. The church basement was warm and smelled of fresh coffee. She had two bites to go when Mrs. Hoffman returned with an empty tray and sat opposite her. “Don’t you have to get to the hospital?”

  “I do.” Mrs. Hoffman nodded toward the kitchen. “But Fritz is helping with a clogged sink.” She gestured to where a pair of jean-clad legs stuck out from the cabinet below the sink. “We have plenty of time.” Lowering her voice, she leaned across the table. “I was in labor with Holly for nine hours. I doubt anything’ll happen before morning.”

  Wendy was so focused on her career, she couldn’t imagine having a baby now and settling down. She finished her sandwich. “Thanks for the snack. Apart from some yogurt and my dad’s snacks, I think the fridge is empty at home.”

  “You should stay the night. I hope somebody picks up Vera Hershberger. She’s all by herself. That little house will get cold quickly.”

  Wendy realized if anybody knew the former teacher’s history it would be Rose Hoffman, who had lived in Bear Meadows all her life. “Has she been a widow a long time?”

  Mrs. Hoffman’s green eyes caught her gaze and then slid away. “You should stay here tonight, Wendy. Your road probably hasn’t been plowed.”

  Studying the older woman, Wendy could see where Holly and her three older brothers got their black hair. Mrs. Hoffman was as thin as Holly, although not as tall. Wendy tried another tack. “I was talking with Mrs. Hershberger the other day. Did you two go to school together?”

  “Heavens, no. She’s years older than I am.” Mrs. Hoffman pressed her lips together. “But Vera is a lovely woman. And she’s been through so much.” She fixed her gaze on something over Wendy’s shoulder. “There’s Fritz. I’ve got to go, dear.”

  Wendy zipped her coat and followed the Hoffman couple and Riley through the kitchen, into the parking lot. Someone had left a broom by the door. She grabbed it and carried it to her car, which was covered with two inches of snow in the hour she had been inside. Maybe she should consider the job in Burbank. At least she wouldn’t be freezing to death. Ten minutes later most of the snow had been removed from the windshield. She returned the broom, got into the car and put on her seat belt.

  She stopped at the end of the driveway and chec
ked both directions. A looming truck idled in the street, its signal indicating it was turning into the church parking lot. She waved and pulled out. Time to go home.

  * * *

  AFTER WAITING FOR a small car to exit, Josh pulled into the crowded church parking lot. The massive stone structure with its high bell tower loomed over the neighborhood. The front of the church was dark, but bright lights came from the back door. A generator ran noisily by the side of the building.

  “Are you coming in?” With an anxious look, his mother placed a hand on his arm.

  “No, Mom.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll stay at the cabin tonight. The key still over the door?”

  “Oh, Josh, it’s too cold—”

  “I’ll be fine, Mom.”

  Sue reached into a paper bag on her lap and slipped a package into his jacket pocket. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow then.”

  He was about to get out and help his mother from the truck, but Joe was already assisting Sue. He would leave his mother safe at the church, but he had no intention of walking into the brightly lit crowded place. Bad enough that he was home at all. He saw a burly patrolman approach his mother and glance in his direction. It was time to make a quick exit.

  He shifted into first gear and was about to take his foot off the brake when he saw the man standing in front of his truck. How did a guy that big move that quickly? Holding up a gloved hand, the officer rounded the truck. He tapped on the driver’s window. “Sergeant Hunter?”

  Josh sighed. The last thing he wanted was attention from the local police. He rolled down the window. “Yes, sir?”

  “Your mom said you’re home on leave from the army.”

  Josh didn’t see the need to say otherwise. He would be gone soon. What did it matter if people thought he was still in the military? “What can I do for you, Officer?” Up close, the policeman was much younger than he had appeared at a distance. His face was round and the reddened cheeks appeared smooth. Not a whisker to be seen, as if he had shaved just minutes earlier.

  “I’ve kind of got my hands full.” One eyebrow raised with an unspoken question.

  Josh knew what was coming. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stay.” Josh moved his hand to the gearshift lever.

  The young man stuck his hand through the window. “I’m Bob Williams. Most folks call me Moose.”

  Removing his hand from the gearshift, Josh gripped the other man’s hand. He resisted wincing. “Is Stone still the chief of police?”

  “No. He died two years ago come January. Mac McAndrews is chief now. Good man.”

  Josh didn’t recognize the name. “Well, good luck but—”

  “Mac’s wife went into labor tonight.” His broad shoulders lifted in a massive shrug as he grinned. “Figures, huh? And I just heard about an accident on the interstate. The plow trucks can’t keep up with the snow.”

  Josh suppressed a groan as he felt himself getting pulled into the town’s crisis. His mother’s empty cabin beckoned. A quiet place in the woods. A fire in the fireplace. A shot of whiskey. A single shot.

  “Look, all I need is for someone to pick up Mrs. Hershberger and bring her back to the church. She lives a block from your mom’s bakery. Has a Go Cubs sign in the yard. She doesn’t have family so...” His words trailed off.

  Josh drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and pictured snow falling around the cabin, the stack of logs waiting by the door.

  Moose’s grin faded. “Look, man, just forget it. I’ve got to keep moving.” He backed away.

  The disappointed look on the young man’s face convinced Josh he was being a heel. “Sure, Moose. I know where she lives. I’ll take care of her. Don’t worry.” He hesitated, and then thought if he was in for a dime he was in for a dollar. “Anything else?”

  “Looks like this truck of yours can go anywhere. Maybe you could check on the Smith brothers. They’re two old guys—”

  “Yeah, I remember. They still live on the farm on the other side of Little Bear Creek? That all?”

  “I don’t suppose you’re familiar with Last Chance Farm. Two elderly people there, too.”

  Josh felt his breath catch in his chest. “I’ve heard of it. Anyone else?”

  Moose shook his head, but his gaze was on a caravan of cars turning into the parking lot. “Thanks, man.” His last words were shouted as he moved toward the new arrivals. “Your mom said I could count on you.”

  Josh peered out the passenger window and saw his mother outlined in the open door of the church basement. He knew she had a lot of questions for him, but then, he had a lot for her, too. Though with the man from the tea shop in the cab with them, the questions, and the answers, would have to wait. He pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward his mother’s bakery. He hoped the retired teacher wouldn’t recognize him, that she would be so concerned with getting to the church she wouldn’t pay attention to the driver.

  No such luck.

  “Joshua Hunter, what are you doing here?” Mrs. Hershberger stood in the doorway of her small ranch house. Wearing a pink tracksuit, she clutched a heavy shawl draped over her shoulders.

  His own mother had barely recognized him, how had the teacher? “Taking you to the church, ma’am. The power’s out.”

  “I’ll be fine here. Besides, I’m not presentable.” Leaving the door open, she walked into her living room.

  Hesitating, Josh looked down at the threshold. He really shouldn’t be here. He stepped into the hall and closed the door. “This blizzard’s forecast to continue through the night, Mrs. Hershberger. Are you sure you don’t want to go over to the church for a while? If you don’t like it, I’ll bring you back home.” Officer Williams had made a simple request, and if there was one thing Josh knew how to do, it was to follow orders.

  She stood at the window, holding back the curtain so she could see. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll need a few minutes to get ready.”

  Waiting for the older woman as she gathered her belongings, he looked around the living room. The retired teacher lived comfortably, but she certainly wasn’t well-to-do. The matching couch and chair were of a style at least twenty years old. An upright piano stood in one corner of the room. He walked over to look at the pictures on top. Multiple class pictures. First graders. Individual pictures of toothless children were stuck along the edges of the frames. A wedding photo. Josh picked it up. Mrs. Hershberger had been a beautiful woman, her curly hair short and dark. She wore a long white dress. Next to her stood a barrel-chested, muscular man, his hair cut in the buzz-cut style of the sixties.

  “My wedding photo.”

  Josh jumped. He hadn’t heard the woman return. Putting the picture back in its place, he turned. “Do you need a hand with anything?”

  She passed him an overnight bag. “I’m ready.”

  Two hours later he was finally on his way to the cabin, wondering if he would be as stubborn as Mrs. Hershberger and the Smith brothers when he got old. He grinned. With his mother’s and father’s genes? Probably.

  The Smith brothers had been fine, a generator rumbling outside the rear kitchen door. Although they would soon be snowed in, they wouldn’t have a problem once the snowplows hit the back county roads probably in the morning. The elderly couple at Last Chance Farm had been fine as well, comfortable in the kitchen with a fire in the cookstove. They refused to go with him.

  He was glad in a sense that they had the blizzard to talk about. It took the pressure off them possibly asking more questions about why he was in town.

  He slowed as he approached the turn onto the suspension bridge over Little Bear Creek. The water ran dark between the snow-covered banks, the temperature not yet having been cold enough for freezing. As he crossed the bridge, the wooden boards rumbled under his tires.

  At the end of the bridge, he turned right onto t
he unplowed road that passed in front of the cabin. As his headlights swung in a circle, a movement caught his eye. He slammed on the brakes. The truck skidded and came to a stop.

  Josh peered into the curtain of falling snow. He must have imagined it. Or maybe he had seen a deer. But no deer in its right mind would be out on a night like this. No other wildlife, either.

  Still...

  Leaving the truck running, he stepped out into the darkness. “Hello?” The cold wind took the word and spun it into the sky.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  WITH THE FLASHLIGHT app on, he pointed his cell phone in the direction he had seen movement. The combination of the heavy snow and the high winds rendered the light practically useless. He tromped to the opposite side of the bank and saw her.

  She was crouching by the left rear tire, removing snow with a large broken stick, so engrossed in her task she didn’t even notice his light. “Hey.”

  Her head jerked up. At the same time her feet went out from under her and she slipped under the bumper. Josh lunged forward and pulled her out from under the still-running car. Exhaust swirled around them. They landed in a pile of snow.

  They managed to stand. She was shivering violently, but not so much that she couldn’t bat at his hands as he attempted to brush snow off her shoulders. His gaze swept over her attire. Nice boots, but more suited for the runway than snowbanks. He grasped her elbow. Her boot must’ve caught on some obscured object because as she tried to gain her balance, she was impeded and fell forward. He swept her up into his arms.

  “Whoa, there, mis...mister, I can walk.” Her teeth chattering, she could barely utter the words. She elbowed his chest.

  “I’m sure you can. But I don’t particularly want to be out in this blizzard waiting while you take baby steps. Hang on.” He hiked up the bank double-time, causing her to throw her arms around his neck. Depositing her in his truck, he returned to shut off her car.

  “My family’s cabin is not far from here. Do for now, okay?”

  She looked like she was about to argue, but then she gave a quick nod. He couldn’t leave her out here to freeze, could he?