Here We Come (Aggie's Inheritance)

by Chautona Havig

  During their conversation, a new idea occurred to him—one he’d have to take up with Tina. If he had his dates straight in his mind, it might just be the perfect way to distract the family after such a trip. Mid-thoughts, Tina burst in through the door, carrying several bags in her hands. At the sight of Luke, she stopped. “I had a question for you. Now I’ve forgotten it.”

  “I have keys for you.”

  “That’s my question! Thanks.” As if that settled everything, she jogged up the stairs calling Vannie’s name.

  “Well, guess that explains it, whatever it is,” Aggie muttered dryly.

  Mibs says: We were supposed to talk tonight, but that never happened.

  Luke says: Pesky kids have the audacity to want to spend time with us or something.

  Mibs says: What did they want?

  Luke says: They wanted me to convince you to let them go to the library. I actually suspect they will ask me in the future and hope I don’t ask what you said.

  Mibs says: You have got to be kidding me.

  Luke says: Nope. Not a bit, why?

  Mibs says: I just didn’t think they’d pull that yet. I thought they’d at least have the decency to wait until we’re married.

  Luke says: Well, I let them have it. Informed them that I would back you up 100% even if I didn’t agree with you.

  Mibs says: That helps.

  Mibs says: Wait, does that mean you disagree with me?

  Luke says: I don’t know if I do or not. What was the reasoning for not allowing them to return the books? You’ll have a few more dollars in fines now.

  Mibs says: Josh is still out there, Luke. I can’t risk them out like that until I know he’s caught.

  Luke says: Do you really think he’d risk coming around to finish a job he isn’t going to get paid for now? That man is long gone.

  Mibs says: I don’t know…

  Luke says: What about Kenzie and the cookies?

  Mibs says: She’s only six and she has a bum arm. She can’t get away as easily…

  Luke says: Well, I’m going to back you up, but I’ll admit that I do think you’re wrong. It’s understandable, but I disagree.

  Mibs says: Once they catch him, I can stand it again, but…

  Luke says: And if they never do?

  Mibs says: Oh, I can’t stand that thought.

  Luke says: Are you going to find it impossible to relax for two weeks? Should I cancel honeymoon plans?

  Mibs says: Why should you do that? I’m looking forward to those two weeks.

  Luke says: You won’t be worrying about some strange man lurking outside Willow’s farm or at Mom’s or Uncle Zeke’s?

  Mibs says: No, actually, I think they’ll be safer. He won’t know to look there. Geraldine wouldn’t know.

  Luke says: Whew. I was getting nervous.

  Mibs says: You really do think I’m a bit nuts, don’t you?

  Luke says: I think you should talk to William and ask his opinion on things.

  Mibs says: I can do that.

  Mibs says: That seems weird.

  Luke says: What does?

  Mibs says: Asking William’s opinion when you’ve already given yours. Why should his carry more weight?”

  Luke says: Maybe because it is his job to know these things?

  Mibs says: Well, if you’re going to put it in logical terms like that.

  Luke says: I’m not going to pretend that I didn’t like that you wanted to put my opinions ahead of William’s. I’m not completely ego-free.

  Mibs says: Tina just came up with a list a mile long of things for me to answer.

  Mibs says: Wait, she is having trouble with catering ideas and wants to know what you think about cold cuts, rolls, potato salad—picnic fare.

  Luke says: Sounds good to me.

  Mibs says: Ok, then. I’ll talk to you later.

  Luke says: Night. Love you.

  Mibs says: Those are the coolest seven letters ever. Or, should I say

  the gloriest?

  Luke says: Say goodnight, Gracie.

  Mibs says: Goodnight, Gracie.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Anniversaries

  Saturday, February 14th

  Two weeks of misery culminated in a very dark and gloomy Valentine’s Day. It seemed like the weather had remembered the day and chosen to grieve with Aggie and her little clan of Stuarts. They drove into the cemetery after a long, tedious morning of eating breakfast, dressing, and frantic searches for that special picture or note. She drove alone, neither Tina nor Luke there to lend the support she desperately craved.

  To be truthful, she felt a little sorry for herself. That was almost as bad as the memories that threatened to choke her. The twins didn’t seem to remember the cemetery at all. Kenzie shrunk from it, begging Aggie to be allowed to stay alone in the van. That wasn’t going to happen. It simply wasn’t an option.

  When they neared the little area that the Stuarts had been buried in for the past hundred years, Kenzie began to relax. “Grandmother isn’t here. I thought she would be. She made me sing.”

  “No, it’s just us today.”

  “Why didn’t Luke come?” Laird seemed as bothered by the absence of the man she intended to marry as she was.

  “I think he thought we wanted a little privacy.”

  “Did you?”

  She shook her head. Aggie wanted nothing more than his arm around her and a chance to weep with physical as well as emotional support. Her thoughts from the previous year were absolutely true. Valentine’s Day was ruined forever.

  “He should have come,” Vannie managed to force the words from somewhere.

  “I should have asked. He was being thoughtful and I wanted him to read my mind. I hate it when I do stupid girlie stuff like that.”

  “But—”

  “No, Vannie. We’re not going to blame people for a lousy day. This is just a horrible day and I’m not going to pretend it’s anything else.”

  Aggie pulled the stake and urn from a tote bag and asked Tavish for the hammer as she stuffed the bag in her pocket. She cleared the snow from in front of the double headstone and drove the stake into the ground. The force required to make it work was nearly cathartic in its intensity. Once firmly driven into the ground, Aggie added the urn to the stake and unscrewed the lid. “You can put your notes and pictures in here if you like.”

  A few small notes and a couple of colored pictures were added to the urn before Aggie found the strength to pull hers from her pocket. Vannie touched her sleeve. “Can I read it?”

  Though awkward, Aggie nodded. “If you like.”

  A few sentences into the letter, Vannie stopped. “Can I read it to the others?”

  Aggie didn’t think she’d get through a reading of it, but she nodded anyway. “It’s up to you.”

  Without hesitation, Vannie gathered the others around her and said, “Listen to Aunt Aggie’s note. I think you should hear it.”

  Doug and Allie,

  It’s been a year—the most horrifying, agonizing, stretching and growing year of my life. It has also been the best. I hate that you’re not here to talk to. I hate that your children don’t see you. It kills me that your son will only know you as a picture and I get the privilege of being his mommy.

  I also feel guilty because I love my life now. I have purpose and you gave that to me. Your death gave me a different kind of life. Because of it, I met the man I’m going to marry. I wouldn’t have otherwise.

  I know Allie felt guilty about “burdening” me with this responsibility so young. I am glad there’s no guilt in heaven or she’d still feel guilty. That’s just how she is. Well, it’d be unnecessary anyway. It’s been hard. I won’t pretend it hasn’t. I don’t know what I’m doing and the kids know it. Thankfully, you guys did a good job and they haven’t really taken advantage of that.

  I just wanted to say thanks. Thanks for trusting me with your children. I don’t think I’ve completely failed you yet.

  I’d g
ive almost anything to have you back, though.

  Miss you,

  Aggie

  By the time she finished, Vannie wept openly. Laird fought back tears, but he too caved after a time. Tavish and Ellie clung to each other for a minute or two, crying. Then, as if they had left the past where it lay, they tried to distract Cari and Lorna from bothering the others. Kenzie soon followed, uninterested in unburdening her little heart just yet.

  Aggie clung to Ian, the full weight of all that was gone hitting her fresh. The baby squirmed and protested, but she kept herself wrapped around his little body, wondering how to keep a mother fresh in a baby’s mind. He’d hardly known Allie. Certainly, there was no chance of memory. Still, she should try to do it. Shouldn’t she? Again, she wished for Luke or Tina’s comforting presence.

  A snowball whizzed past her head, missing Ian by a breath. “Wha—”

  Ten eyes widened in horror as she turned to stare at them. From the look on Cari’s face, Aggie had a fairly good idea of the culprit. Lorna, in an obvious attempt to protect her slightly younger sister from yet another foray into Trouble 101, grabbed a handful of snow and packed a small snowball herself. With every ounce of strength the girl possessed, she threw it at Laird, hitting him squarely in the back.

  “Wha—” He grinned, jogged several yards away, and packed his own.

  Aggie watched in stunned fascination as her children began a snowball war right there in the cemetery. She and Ian stood on what appeared to be no man’s land. Surreal—this is surreal, she thought to herself. My children are playing on the anniversary of their parents’ death, in a cemetery, and disturbing the ground in the process. What next, a snowman? Snow angels? That thought prompted a snicker. How appropriate. Snow angels in the cemetery. It would tie into the erroneous idea that people become angels when they die.

  Ian squirmed to get down and ran for Laird. Another snowball flew past much too closely for her comfort. Without thinking, Aggie darted around the headstone and dropped to her knees. The stupidity of that action was obvious in seconds as her tights became wet and cold.

  The incongruity of her position hit her as she imagined seeing it from an outsider’s perspective. To her left, Laird and Vannie balled more snowballs in a short amount of time than she had thought possible. Ian “helped” by throwing half of them a foot or so. Most didn’t even break. To her right, both sets of twins and Kenzie worked hard to build quite an arsenal—making it nearly twice the volume of their unofficial “opponents.” And there she was, peeking over the top of the grave. It belonged in a wacky Norman Rockwell painting. She’d call it “Battle with Grief.”

  War erupted when Laird fired on Fort Younger. Though they had fewer snowballs and a “helper” to destroy things as fast as they made them, Vannie and Laird had size, speed, strength, and accuracy on their side. Cari and Lorna couldn’t throw past the headstone. Kenzie couldn’t throw much at all with her broken arm putting her off-balance.

  Perhaps the strangest part of all was the hush. There were no screams, squeals, or exaggerated groans on impact. Even Ian was quiet in his attempt to demolish their pile of weapons. Cari didn’t make a sound as one snowball exploded on her hat. Tavish’s trademarked primal yell was noticeably absent. A glance over her shoulder showed an elderly woman watching.

  Without thinking, she stood. “Time to go—” All balls redirected and bombarded her. Her coat was almost white with the residue of snowballs that had pelted her. “Note to self: Wool doesn’t allow snow to slide off,” she muttered.

  The group marched to the van, still much too quiet for Aggie’s comfort. It seemed unnatural for her crazy brood to be almost completely silent. With the children settled in their seats, she hoisted herself up into the driver’s seat and stared at the roses on the dashboard. “Laird, I forgot the roses. Can you go put them on top for me?” Her voice cracked. “Thanks.”

  The occupants of the Stuartmobile watched Laird trudge back along the slippery, half-shoveled walk. It was a strange sight. The cemetery was almost pristine in its snowy brilliance. Footprints followed what should be paths, and there was an occasional footprint or two on a plot with flowers lying there, but most of it was a smooth blanket of white. Well, except for the area around Allie and Doug’s grave. It was rumpled, dirty, and yes, it looked like children had held a snowball fight over the grave. Laird reached the headstone, laid the cellophane wrapped red roses on it, and stood back.

  Kenzie’s question spoke for all when she asked, “Why isn’t he coming back?”

  Laird picked up the roses again and pulled the wrapping from them. He unwound the rubber band holding the stems together and then laid them on the stone once more. His gloved hand covered the stems for just a moment. Aggie’s breath caught. It was beautiful. “I wish I’d brought the camera,” she whispered.

  Vannie pointed to her pocket. “Your phone!”

  It was far away but better than nothing. She snapped the picture just as Ellie said, “I’ll sketch it from the picture, Aunt Aggie. I can do it.”

  “I’d love that.”

  What Laird was saying—or if he was praying—Aggie didn’t know, but the lump welled larger in her throat as he turned. With the movement, a single rose rolled from the top of the stone and lay against the rumpled snow. It seemed to her that it was a perfect picture of her life… beauty amid the chaos that was her family.

  “That wasn’t too bad,” Aggie whispered as she put the van in gear and began to back out of her parking space. Maybe we should change to their birthdays though, she thought to herself. There’s no snow in May or September.

  ~*~*~*~

  “Nine hot chocolates—whipped cream on all,” Aggie asked, her eyes on the van full of children behind her.

  “Nine?”

  She sighed. “Yes.” Aggie slid her card across the counter. “I need to pay quickly please. I’ll send in two kids to carry them out.”

  “Two kids for nine chocolates…”

  “They’re thirsty,” she snapped. “The card? I have kids alone in the car.”

  The moment she had her receipt, Aggie dashed out the door and into the van. “Whew. There was almost no one ahead of me, but ugh.”

  “Um, can we go in and get them now?” Laird’s hand was already on the door.

  “Go for it.”

  The numbers on the van clock changed, one after another after another, but Vannie and Laird still did not return. Aggie was ready to go in after them when she finally saw the door open. Once inside, Vannie apologized. “I’m sorry. The guy in there wouldn’t stop asking questions. I wanted to throw the hot chocolate at him, but Laird made me leave.”

  “I believe that assault with a liquid weapon is still considered assault, Vannie.”

  “Very funny.”

  For one brief moment, Aggie was tempted to go in and give the baristas a piece of her mind. Burning tears at the back of her eyes warned her that she’d never get through her lecture without falling apart. Her fingers turned the key in the ignition and she backed from the parking place. “Let’s go. When yours gets cool enough to drink without burning you, give Cari, Lorna, and Ian theirs.”

  “I want mine now!” Cari protested.

  “Well, you can have it when it’s cool and not before. Or, if you prefer, I can pour it out.”

  Tears flowed then. “That’s not faiw!” the child wailed as she demanded her drink.

  Great, Aggie thought, she’s back to the baby talk. What next? Even as the thought occurred, Aggie realized it was like inviting disaster, and she was right. Lorna bawled in commiseration with her sister’s cocoa-less plight. Kenzie stared out the window, a look of determination—for what Aggie couldn’t imagine—on the girl’s face.

  “Should I try to cool it?” Vannie asked.

  “No. She can wait.” Aggie grabbed her cup from the holder and took a quick swig. Her mouth burned. “Aaaak! Oh man! Aargh!”

  Her cries of pain terrified Ian who began screeching at the top of his unreasonably strong lungs
. Ellie tried to calm Lorna and Cari, but failed. Though quite out of character, she took the rejection personally and began crying herself. Tavish’s attempts to soothe her also culminated in his own tears. By the time Aggie made it onto the loop, she was the only one not weeping in earnest.

  Her own tears hovered—a storm ready to break. She just wanted to make it home first, but by halfway to Fairbury, Aggie knew there wasn’t much time before she couldn’t see the road for her crying. The van slid slightly as she turned into the rest stop and pulled into two parking spaces with a jerk.

  Her hands hung over the steering wheel while her head rested on them. Shoulders shaking, she sobbed out the pain of loss and weariness. Her heart constricted when she thought of Luke and Tina. Throat aching from her pain and despair, she mentally railed at God for having such thoughtless and selfish friends and then at herself for thinking something so utterly ridiculous.

  They stayed in that parking lot, cars coming and going in the usual manner of desperate stops for a drink or a bathroom on a long trip, until their grief slowly dissipated as they grappled with their loss. At last, Aggie dug a pack of tissues from her purse, kept one, and passed the package back to the others. “I should have come prepared.”

  “Can we go home now?” Kenzie asked. “I don’t like being sad. Home is happy—most of the time.”

  “We sure can. We’ll watch a movie or something. Maybe we’ll put on pajamas and eat junk food all day. Sounds like a great way to spend a horrible Valentine’s Day to me.”

  Ellie’s voice barely reached her ears, but the words etched themselves onto her heart as the girl said, “Since we can’t have our own mommy, I’m glad we have you.”

  “Well, I’m glad I have all of you too. Let’s go.”

  Sniffles still echoed in the van from time to time, but the rest of the trip home seemed to calm everyone. A few times, Aggie found herself half-humming, half-singing Proverbs 3:5, and soon the van was filled with singing. Over and over, they sang the words of trusting in the Lord for direction; at times, their voices blended and “harmonized” in ways that would make the Von Trapp family reach for ear plugs.