“I guess she does have an obligation…”
Aggie passed the cup of piping hot coffee to William and turned to make herself a cup. “I love this thing. Luke couldn’t have bought me a more perfect gift.”
“Does she have any idea when she’ll be back?”
“Hey, why don’t you ask her that? Don’t you think she’d like to hear that you miss her?”
“I never said—”
“Oh, come on, William. You come in, ask about my trip, want to know about her dad, when she’ll be back… you miss her. That’s a good thing.”
“I think miss might be strong, but I did hope she might be home soon.”
“Um, dear William. She is home. Yorktown is her home. She was just here because she wanted to help me.”
“Well, I think she considers here home. She had mentioned getting an apartment when you and Luke got married.”
Aggie knew that Tina had looked at a few places, but she had no idea that her friend had shared this information. “I think you need to make a trip up there. Say hi. Take her out to dinner.”
“Seems a bit… serious.”
“Well, then don’t. Let her wonder if she should bother coming back at all. Let her father introduce her to interns and every other unmarried man under forty in his company until one of them shows her the attention she deserves.”
“I’ll think about it, but…”
“Or,” Aggie added with playfulness she hadn’t felt in ages, “Or you could go over and make up to Murphy instead. She wouldn’t mind.”
William glanced at his watch and set his cup on the counter. “I’ve got to get going. Megan was supposed to be working, but she’s got that flu going around.”
“And it’s a convenient excuse to get away before I convince you that Tina’s worth a trip north.”
“Oh, I know she’s worth it, but…”
“G’night, William. Go work out your troubles. I think I hear kids out of bed.”
~*~*~*~
Laird overheard Aggie talking in the living room and crept down the first few stairs to see if he could see who else was there, but she was obviously talking on her cell to someone—probably Luke. The first clear words he heard were, “…considering enrolling them.”
Her next words, emphasizing that he and Vannie would certainly go, unnerved him. I’ve got to talk to the others, he thought. We might not like having to do school all day here, but it’s better than when we had to be gone all day with homework when we got home, and it wasn’t too bad before Christmas. His feet hurried up the stairs, and at the top, he heard a car in the drive. He passed Vannie’s room and went straight for the window at the end of the hall. The sheriff’s car. What could that mean?
He hurried to Vannie’s room and let himself in the door. “Vannie!” he hissed.
“What? I’m trying to sleep here, and you’re going to get us into more trouble.”
“Aunt Aggie was talking to Luke—well, I think it was Luke—and she was talking about enrolling us in school again.”
She sat up, pulling her robe around her shoulders. “What? How do you know that?”
“I heard her say it. Oh, and William—Deputy Markenson—is down there. What if she called him about us?”
“If you got us in trouble with your stupid idea—”
“You liked it well enough when it got you out of algebra,” Laird growled.
Curled in the corner of the daybed, Vannie shook her head. “I thought I would, but I was miserable all day. I don’t know anything that happened in my book after I refused to do my math.”
“I know what you mean. I think we need to apologize and just do our work. We’d have to do it at school anyway—and homework besides.” He stood at the end of the bed, his arms crossed over his chest, but this time they were crossed to keep him warm rather than in the defiance he’d felt for so long. “I can’t believe I got that upset over a dumb book.”
“It wasn’t the book, Laird. It’s everything else. I was looking up grief on Google. In teens and pre-teens it often comes out as anger and rebellion. In wives, it sometimes manifests in a makeover or decorating or buying things her husband wouldn’t have liked. Aunt Aggie is kind of doing that in reverse. She’s trying to be Mommy when it’s not her. Aunt Aggie is carefree and spontaneous and Mommy was—”
“A bit uptight about things.”
“Yeah, but she loved us,” Vannie seemed compelled to add.
“Who said she didn’t? She was the best mom in the world.”
“And Aunt Aggie is the best aunt. We could at least show her the courtesy of acting like we know it.”
Laird dropped his arms. “Agreed.” He turned to leave, but at the door, her voice stopped him.
“Laird?”
“Hmm?”
“It’s ok to miss them.”
“I know.”
She stopped him once more. “It’s also ok to like our life here too. It’s ok to enjoy spending time with Luke and be grateful that he’s going to be our uncle.”
“I know,” Laird said again. But this time he added, “It just doesn’t feel ok.”
Mibs says: Guess what William wanted?
Luke says: To beg you to reconsider and marry him after all.
Mibs says: You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Nope, but he sure is missing Tina…
Luke says: Well, that’s obvious.
Mibs says: Yeah, but it wasn’t obvious to him until tonight.
Luke says: Oh?
Mibs says: Yep.
Mibs says: More good news.
Luke says: Oh?
Mibs says: I’m not enrolling the kids.
Luke says: I didn’t think you would.
Mibs says: Then you were wrong. I was ninety-eight percent decided until about five minutes ago.
Luke says: What changed your mind?
Mibs says: Laird.
Luke says: What about him?
Mibs says: He came downstairs a little while ago. That’s what took so long for me to get on. He apologized.
Luke says: I thought you said you apologized and he apologized too.
Mibs says: Yes, but he wanted to confess I guess. You know—get it off his chest.
Luke says: Did he explain himself?
Mibs says: From what I got out of him, he is missing his parents, feeling guilty about liking to spend time with you, and part of him likes how I’m not as persnickety about things as Allie was and then he said he resents that too.
Luke says: Complex thinking for a kid.
Mibs says: He’d been talking with Vannie before he came down.
He said he just wanted to feel miserable.
Luke says: I remember that feeling.
Mibs says: What did your mom do?
Luke says: She put me to work and spoke truth constantly to help
drown out the lies I filled my mind with.
Mibs says: Why do you think you did that? I can only stand to think of never seeing Allie again by remembering all the things she’d want me to do and trying to do them.
Luke says: And you’re killing yourself in the process.
Mibs says: But Allie gave me the responsibility.
Luke says: To raise them. She didn’t give you the responsibility of molding yourself into her image.
Mibs says: But consistency. Don’t you think they need it?
Luke says: They need you to be the person GOD chose for you to be, Mibs. Anything else is shortchanging them. God didn’t create you in Allie’s image but in His own. He knitted you in your mother’s womb to be Aggie.
Mibs says: I’ll have to think about that.
Luke says: I proposed to and plan to marry Aggie Milliken. I would be very disappointed to wake up in five years’ time to discover that she has given herself an Allie makeover—inside and out.
Mibs says: And what if I fail?
Luke says: Fail in what? Being Aggie? Not possible.
Mibs says: No, what if I fail in being just Aggie?
Luk
e says: Then I’ll get to know Allie better, won’t I?
Mibs says: I’m glad you told me.
Luke says: Told you what?
Mibs says: That you didn’t want me to lose who I am. I might not have even considered whether it was good or not.
Luke says: I have to be honest even if it’s not what you want to hear.
Mibs says: Even if I don’t like it, I do need and want to hear it.
Luke says: I should go to bed. Inspector is coming early in the morning and then I can call Amber and have her get it back on the market. She says she thinks she’s got a couple of interested parties.
Mibs says: Is it really all done?
Luke says: And better than ever. Thanks to the insurance paying for the damage, I was able to add the built-ins and now it’ll likely sell for more. That might make up for the loss and if it goes in to
escrow quickly enough, I’ll be able to buy a few I’ve had to keep on hold.
Mibs says: I’ll see you later then?
Luke says: Might not be until after dinner, but I’ll stop by. I want to talk to Laird.
Mibs says: Just be careful.
Luke says: Now that I understand him, I think we’ll be good.
Mibs says: Night, Luke. Sometimes it amazes me to think that a year ago I didn’t know you. I hardly knew you six months ago. Now you’re such a huge part of who I am as well.
Luke says: Thank the Lord for women who can articulate what I don’t know how to say. Love you.
Mibs says: Night. Love you too.
Chapter Twelve
Blessings to Burdens
Thursday, January 15th
The table was beautifully set—a bouquet of gerbera daisies in a clear glass bowl in the center. Cheerful cloth napkins were folded on each plate. It looked fit for a fine restaurant, but the room was full of chattering females. Aggie stood in the midst of them, trying to keep Corinne separate from Cassie and Olivia separate from Melanie. Libby introduced the women with the pride she always expressed in each of her children and astonishingly enough, Aggie heard that same pride in the woman’s voice as she introduced the girls to her.
The tallest, Corinne, smiled and started to hold out her hand before engulfing Aggie in an awkward hug. “I thought you’d be pretty, but I kind of expected it to be in the ‘inside shining on the outside’ way. I didn’t think you’d be pretty too!”
“Is that a compliment or an insult to Luke?” The moment she spoke, Aggie wondered what had gotten into her. Before she could amend her question or apologize, Corinne laughed.
“I think I might like you. She’s loyal to him—protective. I like that.”
With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, Olivia nudged Aggie. “If you treat Luke like royalty, she’ll love you forever. However, Corinne is worse than a mama bear if she thinks he isn’t getting his deserved accolades.”
Mel and Cassie nodded. “Stay out of her way if Corinne is riled over someone mistreating her Luke.”
“Girls, you’ll convince Aggie that I raised a pack of half-crazed hyenas!”
“But Mom, you did!” Cassie said, pulling Aggie to a spot next to her at the table. “I’ll sit here and you sit there by Mom’s chair. That’ll keep you a little insulated from the rest.”
The banter would have been amusing had Aggie known anyone and had she not been quite so nervous. Luke had been excited about the lunch for days, but her initial excitement had slowly given way to nervousness. Now she found herself tongue-tied and eager to go home.
“What is your favorite thing about Luke?”
Aggie’s throat went dry. What kinds of questions were these? Was she there to get to know the sisters or to be inducted into the Sullivan Sorority, complete with hazing and rush week? “I think,” she began, unsure how she’d finish, “it would be impossible to narrow him down to ten favorite things much less one.”
“Corinne, really. Aggie isn’t accustomed to your sense of humor. If I didn’t know you, I’d think you were trying to make her feel unwelcome.”
There was an edge to Libby’s tone that Aggie recognized. She’d heard it when Luke’s mother admonished him or one of the children. It meant that they’d gone too far. Corinne turned to Aggie, an apology on her lips, but it seemed to Aggie that it didn’t meet her eyes. “I’m sorry. I forget that you don’t know as much about us as we know about you. Mom talks about you all the time and even Luke does, but I bet he doesn’t say much about us.”
It seemed necessary to put herself out there, so Aggie shook her head. “Actually, he does speak of you all—often. Melanie who married her Ryan without benefit of the whole dating scene. He’s very proud of that. I like that he recognizes that it was best for you without seeming to condemn anyone else for a different decision. She also transplanted garden plants that Cassie started in pots.”
She turned to Olivia. “I learned that you were named for your mother and that Libby’s name wasn’t Elizabeth because of you. You have two daughters and you weren’t mentioned in the grand gardening scheme, so I think perhaps you didn’t like to get dirty.”
“She got that right,” Corinne snickered.
“Well, considering you were the great planner, it doesn’t sound like you cared much for the grunt work either. You have a son Rodney who is the dearest little boy, and you or your mother taught him to sign songs during church—I imagine to keep him occupied. I think you have another boy and a girl, but I might have that mixed with someone else.”
“And what about me, Aggie. Is my job as seed sower all you know about me?”
“You are single, the director of a nursing home, and you wanted to be a vet, but you couldn’t handle the tougher side of it. Your green thumb is unparalleled and you will adore my Ellie.”
“Is that your opinion or Luke’s?” Corinne asked.
“I suppose both of ours. As he told me, I realized that she sounded like the kind of girl that would appreciate my little Ellie.”
“How do you like being a ‘mother’ of eight?”
“If you haven’t realized it yet,” Libby interjected, “Corinne is our frustrated lawyer. She was born for interrogation but seems to have left her tact at home.”
“Was that an offensive question, Aggie? I didn’t mean for it to be.”
“The question isn’t offensive. People ask me that all the time and not always so politely.”
“See? How do people usually ask?”
Aggie had lost all hope of enjoying the afternoon. Luke’s doting Corinne, the sister who seemed to feel as though she owned the right to be his favorite sister, appeared to be determined to leave no doubt of her disapproval. It took a moment to gather her courage, but while she chewed a bite of salad, she debated exactly how honest to be. “Well, I am accustomed to questions asking if I know what causes ‘it.’ Do I have a TV? If they learn that they are my sister’s children, the first question is usually asking if she died in childbirth. The world seems to consider her fertility their business and often asks me very explicit questions about her private life—things I’d never know and wouldn’t want to. Those bother me the most when they ask in front of children who then have confused questions of their own. The most common from the children is why people dislike children.” Corinne and Cassie both seemed ready to ask a question or make a comment, but Aggie continued in a rush. “If people ask about me personally, it is usually with an air of pity and the assumption that my life must be hell on earth. I am a martyr sacrificed for the sake of my sister’s children. No man will marry me, or if he will, it will be out of pure pity for my plot. Galahad, it seems, is not dead. I am told that I have jewels in my crown and that ‘this too shall pass,’ although that one is usually followed by a pat to my arm and a melancholy, ‘but of course that’ll be a couple of decades from now, won’t it?’”
With her outburst finished, Aggie excused herself to the bathroom. Leaning against the door, she pulled her phone from her skirt pocket and punched Luke’s number. “I just blew it with your sisters.”
“But I did. Corinne hates me.”
“That’s crazy,” he argued, “she’s been dying for a chance to really get to know you.”
“Well, she’s spent the entire time I’ve been here grilling me. Your mom has called her on it at least twice that I can remember. I just kind of lost it and told her exactly what I think of people’s questions about my status as a twenty-three year old mother of eight.”
Luke’s laughter annoyed Aggie, but it also gave her a hint of hope. “I think you’ve just ensured that she loves you. Corinne respects someone who doesn’t whine and doesn’t take any guff either. I bet most of what seems antagonistic is really just her weird sense of humor. I told you about that.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t say what it was! I was expecting whoopee cushions or dry British jokes that even Brits don’t get.”
“Trust me. It’ll be fine.” Luke seemed to sense her reticence, because he asked, “Would you like me to call her and tell her to back off?”
“No. That’ll put her off even more. I want to go home.”
That silence—the one that had become comforting to her—now drove her crazy again as she waited for his reply. He eventually said, “Give it ten more minutes. If you still want to come home then, call me and I’ll call mom and tell her you need to come home. I’ll find a legitimate reason.”
“I’m sorry.” Tears choked her as she fought to hide them.
“Hey, hey, Mibs. It’s ok. I should have done something with everyone there.”
“On a brighter note, I think Cassie likes me—or would if we had a chance to talk without interruption.”
“Good. Invite her out for coffee.” Seconds later, he added, “Maybe you should invite them one at a time. It might be a way to get to know them without it feeling like they’re all coming at you at once.”
“I’ll try.”
“Go put some cold water on your face. I know you and your eyes are puffy and red. You won’t want them to notice.”
The words unsettled her even further. “I thought this was going to be fun. It’s horrible.”
Here We Come (Aggie's Inheritance) Page 17