For Keeps (Aggie's Inheritance)

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For Keeps (Aggie's Inheritance) Page 21

by Havig, Chautona


  “Wow.”

  “How does that help a child learn math?” Skepticism dripped from every word.

  “It doesn’t. It helps a child learn geography, history, and an appreciation for technology and modern science. It was a great experience that the family had on their month off school.” Tina’s eyes narrowed. “You know, I thought I liked you, but I’m beginning to wonder.”

  Aggie laughed. She knew William would miss the sarcasm Tina tried to employ to remind William that he was being rude again. “Tina doesn’t appreciate uneducated opinions, remember?”

  “Whatever. I just think Aggie has enough work without adding more.”

  “That’s an opinion I can get behind. She does. But,” Tina leaned forward excitedly, “that’s something I really learned a lot about tonight. Yes, it’s hard work, but it’s exchanging one kind of hard work for another. One of the moms put her kids in school last year because she needed a break. She said it was just as much work, just different. She had to run around more, help with homework, volunteer in classrooms… it was a lot of work.”

  “But was it that much work last year, Aggie?”

  Before Aggie could answer, Tina piped up again, “Well, and then there’s the rewarding factor. Aggie trained for five years to be a teacher. This way, she actually gets to use her training. That alone has got to feel good after a year of formula, diapers, and ant farm disasters.”

  Aggie decided to stay quiet and listen to the debate rage. It was hilarious to watch Tina shoot down every one of William’s objections. Slowly, their words made no sense, as she grew groggy, until at last, only the faint drone of their voices entered her consciousness. Time became nebulous until she dreamed of bouncing over dirt roads from mission to mission and William complaining, “This isn’t easy going up, you know.”

  Saturday, September 13th

  Gentle dreams drifted from her, pushed away by the morning breeze through the window. Summer was definitely waning. Aggie stretched, as the last vestiges of sleep evaporated, and her first coherent thought of the morning forced her to a sitting position. “How did I get in bed?” She glanced down at the blouse and skirt. “I know I did not climb into bed in these clothes of--” A memory intruded. “Seriously, Lord? She thought it was a good idea to make that man carry me to bed? Seriously?”

  Aggie flopped back on the pillows, wondering how much weaker she’d fallen in William’s eyes. He could make their new educational adventure a nightmare if he chose. She stretched. “Hey, the soreness is gone!” She was hungry, and if the itching were any indication, she had more pox, but the queasiness and achy feeling seemed to have dissipated in the night. “Well, Lord, thanks for that!”

  Her words gave her a snicker as she began singing, “Thank you, Lord for saving my soul. Thank you, Lord for making me kindasortawhole. Thank you, Lord for giving to me…”

  The silence of her house unnerved her, so Aggie rolled to check the clock and found a plush chicken holding a box of pansies and sitting on her trunk-turned-nightstand. “What--” A small “card” tucked beneath the chicken’s wing diverted her questioning. She unfolded it and read the note inside. Praying that you feel better today. May she inspire many smiles just as you inspire so many of mine. Luke.

  Before she could process the information, Libby entered carrying a glass of juice, a muffin, and a bottle of ibuprofen. “Morning, Aggie. Kenzie has been perched on the top step for the past half hour waiting to hear you moving around. She just came tearing down the steps seconds ago.”

  “I didn’t hear her.”

  “She’s wearing her skid-free socks ‘to keep quiet for Aunt Aggie.’”

  “Did you see what Luke brought me? Isn’t she cute?”

  “I did. That’s why Kenzie has been waiting so patiently. I think she’s hoping for some personal bonding time with the clucker.” Libby winked as she handed Aggie the juice. “Drink up. We have to keep you hydrated.”

  As she sipped her drink, Aggie leaned back against the headboard and rubbed her shoulder blade against it, scratching a pock. “How did he know I love pansies?”

  Libby, with a thoughtful look on her face that made Aggie feel like she’d missed something, stood before her--silent. At last, after several long seconds, the smiling woman recited,

  “Pansies are for thoughts.

  So let it be:

  Mine are for you.

  Let yours be of me.”

  “I’ve never heard that before. How does it go again?”

  Libby recited the little poem once more, and her voice held a reminiscent aura as she added, “I wonder if Luke remembers that little verse. I used to recite it each year as we planted them along the walk. Those are special memories for me.”

  “It sounds like your children had a delightful childhood. I never planted flowers with my mom.”

  Sympathy filled Libby’s face. “I imagine that is a hard thing for your mother at times-- remembering the things she wished she had the strength to do with you and your sister.”

  “Did Luke enjoy planting them? Did he help?”

  After pushing the muffin plate into Aggie’s hands, Libby settled herself on the end of the bed as if ready to share a wonderful story with a child at bedtime. “Oh, yes. They all helped. Corinne liked to create the layouts and boss everyone around, Luke did all the digging and clean up. Except the snapdragons. He always planted a corner of snapdragons that were just his. My Luke used to bring them to me whenever he’d gotten into trouble. Cassie planted the seeds and Melanie always transplanted the potted plants.” She grinned remembering. “And if she dared hurt one of the pansies or if Corinne didn’t plan enough of them, they were sure to hear about it.”

  “I suppose he just sent his favorites, eh? Well, I’ll have to let him know that they’re my favorites too.”

  Libby, with a gaze that held Aggie’s hostage, continued with a soft voice, “Considering my Luke’s feelings for you, I think he chose them for you rather than for him.” She pointed at Aggie’s half mangled muffin and mostly full juice glass. “Finish your breakfast, and take your time. I expect Laird to start spotting soon. He’s looking a little tired, and he was complaining about being hot when Tavish suggested a hike through the fields.”

  Aggie stared at the empty doorway lost in thought. Had she heard what she thought she had? Her mind whirled over past and recent conversations, but each one seemed more contradictory than the last. Nothing made sense, and her head began to ache with the concentration. “Ok, Lord. Can we revisit this one later?” The p-mail flew from her lips before she realized she’d spoken.

  The cool morning air sent shivers over her. She reached into her closet and found the box marked “winter clothes” and plowed through it, looking for her comfortable knit pants and her oversized t-shirt. “Perfect clothes for a lazy morning when you’re sick,” she muttered as she stumbled through to the bathroom, her feet still “asleep” from sitting on them in bed.

  Grabbing a brush, she pulled it through her hair a few times, tied a hair tie around it, and washed her hands. Running her tongue around the inside of her mouth, she was relieved to discover no new pox. Vannie’s mouth looked miserable, and Aggie was a little nervous about oral eruptions.

  As she stepped from the bathroom, her bed mocked her. She hated leaving her room disheveled, but as often as she’d been napping lately, it seemed like a waste of time to make it. Forcing herself to ignore the guilt, Aggie hurried downstairs, the crummy plate in one hand and half-empty juice glass in the other. Libby, seeing the unfinished juice, gave Aggie a “look,” but the girl promised to drink it.

  “I got so used to watering down some for Ian that I prefer mine diluted now.”

  “Now if that isn’t a mother’s occupational hazard, I don’t know what is.”

  “Waking up with a chicken’s box full of pansies?”

  “I wondered if you’d get the joke.” Luke sounded pleased.

  Aggie was startled at the sound of Luke’s voice. She turned to see him on a l
adder replacing a light bulb in the dining room, and shook her head. “Oy. Those are all new bulbs, even!”

  Everyone seemed to disappear from the room as they spoke--well, everyone but Kenzie. “Aunt Aggie, can I go bring your chicken down so she’s not up there all alone?”

  Luke grinned down at the little girl. “Why don’t you do that, and I’ll help you plant the pansies later.”

  As Kenzie skipped out of the room, Aggie’s eyes caught Luke’s and held them. “Thank you. It was a nice thing to wake up to today.”

  “Mom used to recite a verse every year as she planted them, but there wasn’t room on that dinky little card.”

  “Something about pansies and thoughts? She quoted it for me, but I can’t remember it.” Aggie’s brow furrowed in concentration.

  “Yep. I’ll write it down for you later if you like.” His ears burned, much to Aggie’s amusement.

  “That’d be nice.”

  Awkwardness hung between them until Luke whipped out a marker. “You and several others have new pox and bare arms and faces. I think it’s time for pictures again. What do you think?”

  “Lead on, artist dude.”

  Luke rolled his eyes. “Dude? Really?”

  “It works!” she protested, scuttling to the library. “Luke is drawing pictures. Line up and see what he finds today!”

  For the next hour or so, Luke drew pictures on arms, legs, and faces, they watched Anchors Aweigh, and put together puzzles in teams, races, and upside down. Luke, once finished drawing on everyone else, arrived at Aggie’s side, took a fractious Ian from her, and gave the baby to his mother. “He needs a nap, and Aggie needs a decorated face.”

  He returned and wiggled his pen at her menacingly. “Ok, which arm gets a picture? You can’t be the only one without war paint.”

  Aggie stuck out her arms. “Both!”

  “Ok, close your eyes and see if you can figure out what I draw.”

  He drew each line in long slow movements, but Aggie immediately identified it as a daisy. The picture on her next arm wasn’t as obvious. Two loops made her tempted to say daisy again, but the rest was all wrong. At last, she surrendered. “I don’t know. What is it?” As she opened her eyes, she grinned. “That is the most lopsided rabbit I’ve ever seen, but I like him.”

  He began drawing on her cheek, but mid picture, Luke’s face fell as his eyes noticed something. “Oh, no!” He glanced around the room and groaned. “Um, it’s good that you like them… do you want me to finish this or not?”

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  Closing his eyes, he passed the marker over to her. “I thought I grabbed the washable one…”

  “Sharpie. I swear; I should ban these things from the house.” As severe as she tried to sound, Aggie’s laugh betrayed her. Luke looked ready to fire back a witty retort, but William’s knock interrupted them.

  “Can I come in?”

  Aggie beamed up at him from the floor. “Sure! How do you like my arms?”

  Lips pursed, William held the door open. “Do you feel up to a chat on the porch?”

  She rose, shrugged her shoulders at Libby and Luke, and followed William to the octagon that housed her furniture. With one leg tucked under her, she settled into the wicker chair and sighed, contented. “Isn’t this weather just beautiful? If I didn’t itch so badly, I’d want to take the kids apple picking or something. I wonder when apples are ripe, anyway.” Aggie chattered as if unaware that William must have come for a reason. “Did I tell you that I found out Luke’s sister home-schools? I’m going to call her this evening after her husband is home to watch the kids and talk about curriculum choices. Tina and I are making the final decisions tonight. They’ve already missed two weeks as it is. We’ll be starting behind, but Libby says--” She stopped. “Sorry. Did you need something?”

  “Well, apparently you needed some adult conversation, so we’re good.”

  “Well, that’s silly. Luke, Tina, and Libby are here. I get lots of adult conversation these days.”

  “Maybe you’re just in need of male adult conversation then.”

  “What do you call Luke?”

  William shrugged. “I don’t know. Anyway, I found out what happened to Douglas Stuart.”

  “Is he all right?”

  “Well, sort of. He drove all the way to Rockland, pulled into what he thought was his driveway, parked and locked the van, walked up the steps, let himself into the house, and made himself at home in the family’s home office. He spent several minutes trying to get into their password protected computer, and then started ranting and screaming at it. A woman came in to see what was going on, and he ordered her from ‘his’ house. So the terrified woman ran out, went next door, and called the police.”

  “Why would he do that? Is he ok? Is the woman ok?”

  He leaned his forearms on his knees and clasped his hands together. “Yep. Once she heard what happened when they took him to the station, she dropped charges.”

  Aggie waited, but William didn’t elaborate. After several seconds, she saw his lip twitch. “You’re not Luke. You won’t get away with it. What happened?”

  “Well, apparently when he got to the station, they called Geraldine. She came down, and as soon as he saw her, his whole persona changed. It was as if he didn’t remember how he got there or what he’d done. He was horrified when the arresting officer told him.” William ran a frustrated hand along his jaw. “Mrs. Stuart promised to get him medical attention immediately. We’re probably looking at some form of dementia--possibly Alzheimer’s.”

  “Oh, I can’t believe I’m saying it, but that poor woman!”

  “Anyway, she asked me to tell you that she’ll have to withdraw her petition for visitation pending the doctor’s diagnosis and treatment options.”

  Aggie was thoughtful for a few seconds before she asked, “Do you think if I had the children make cards and send them it would be ok? It wouldn’t jeopardize the restraining order or anything?”

  “I think that’s a very gracious idea.” He stood and walked to the steps. “By the way, it’s good to see you in pants, Aggie. I’d thought you were one of those self-righteous ‘skirts are holy; pants are evil’ types.” With that remark hanging in the air like a bomb ready to explode, he jogged down the steps toward his vehicle.

  “Oh, no you don’t. Get back here. Who do you think you are insulting me and then just walking off like that!”

  William turned on his heel, stunned. “I just paid you a compliment.”

  “Backhanded one at best. You just passed judgment on a whole slew of people who are guilty of nothing but having different preferences and convictions than you. Since when is it a sin to choose not to wear pants?”

  Taken aback by her confrontational attitude, William forced himself not to become defensive. “It’s definitely wrong to judge those who don’t walk around in dresses all the time.”

  “That sounds suspiciously like judging people to me! You’re assuming that if someone is wearing a skirt that they’re automatically judging someone who isn’t. That’s just as bad as if they actually are.” William tried to speak, but she continued in her tirade. “Do I act self-righteous when I’m in a skirt? Do I look down on Tina or Mrs. Dyke or anyone else wearing pants? Do I preach at them or judge them?”

  “Well, no, but--”

  “Then next time you see someone like my sweet Vannie wearing nothing but skirts, don’t you dare judge her and assume she’s judging everyone around her. That’s just as bad as assuming that anyone from the South has to be racist. I thought better of you.” With those words, Aggie stormed inside, allowing the screen door to slam behind her. William walked thoughtfully to his cruiser and drove down the road.

  Everyone in the house all seemed on edge--almost walking on eggshells, unsure what to think. Libby spent much of the next hour giving Luke stern glances that were highly ineffective considering the smirk hovering around the corners of her mouth. Luke, on the other hand, seemed quite chippe
r. He whistled while he worked, while he played with the children, and while he tried to tease Aggie into better humor.

  Just as they sat down for lunch, a florist’s van arrived with a “get well” bouquet. Tavish brought it in and presented it to Aggie with a flourish announcing, “Look! An imaginationally challenged bouquet special!”

  Vannie flushed, frantically waving her hands and trying to swallow her soup in order to stop her brother, but it was too late. The three adults stared at one another and at Tavish who was clearly confused as to why they looked at him as if he’d committed a terrible faux pas. “Tavish, that was daddy’s private joke for us. You just--it’s just that-- Oh, Tavish!”

  “What?”

  Libby took the arrangement from Aggie’s stunned hands and carried it to the sink. With kitchen scissors, she carefully snipped each stem of the flowers, inhaling their scent. “I love the spiciness of carnations, don’t you? Oh, look. It’s hard to see under that big bow, but the mug says, ‘Rx: One bowl chicken soup, one funny movie, and lots of hugs from loved ones.’”

  Aggie took the card and read it aloud. “‘Hope you are feeling better. I am sorry I offended. William.’” Aggie pasted on a smile. “Well, that was thoughtful.”

  Vannie took a deep breath as if performing a dreaded task. “It’s something daddy used to joke about, Aunt Aggie. Every time someone did something traditional like sending flowers, giving chocolate, using candles with dinner--anything like that. He always called it ‘imaginationally challenged.’ Anytime he brought Mommy flowers, he would say, ‘Sorry, I was a little imaginationally challenged today.’”

  A few snickers, followed by chuckles, eventually evolved into hysterical laughter that even the twins and Ian, although they didn’t understand why, joined in enthusiastically. Not even ever-gracious Libby could suppress her amusement. Aggie and Luke, trying to control their mirth, failed miserably and spent the rest of the meal snickering and chuckling whenever someone muttered, “imaginationally challenged.”

 

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