For Keeps (Aggie's Inheritance)

by Havig, Chautona

  Determined not to be caught laughing while thanking him, Aggie called and left a thank you message on his voice mail. As she hung up the phone, she turned to Luke. “Do you think he’s going to wonder why I sounded so strangled in thanking him?”

  Before anyone could reply, Laird lifted his shirt to see what had bit him and groaned. “My turn, I guess.”

  Luke says: What are you doing up? You looked done for two hours ago!

  Aggie says: I fell asleep for exactly an hour, and now I’m wide awake.

  Mibs says: Oops. I think I forgot to change my name after talking to my dad the other day. Mibs was confusing him. He kept seeing the M and thinking he was talking to Mom.

  Luke says: Well, I guess I won’t get offended then.

  Mibs says: You’re so understanding.

  Luke says: Is Laird still taking it hard?

  Mibs says: Yeah. Poor kid really thought he wasn’t going to get it. Apparently he did some boasting to Tavish too, so Tavish going last… the little brother thing…

  Luke says: Yep. I never had a little brother, but I imagine a sister is about as mortifying… if not more so. On the bright side, a little humiliation is very character building.

  Mibs says: You speak from experience, I assume.

  Luke says: Guilty as charged.

  Mibs says: Well, not to change the subject but…

  Luke says: You have another subject.

  Mibs says: Very astute of you Mr. Sullivan.

  Luke says: It was, wasn’t it?

  Mibs says: So, are you up for dinner with William this weekend?

  Luke says: If he wants to ask me out, why doesn’t he do it himself? I would have thought after the Mrs. Dyke fiasco…

  Mibs says: *giggles* That’s a good one.

  Luke says: Seriously, though, why would you want both of us there?

  Mibs says: Well, at first I thought Tina wanted me to invite him so she could get to know him better. She seemed not to trust him. Now, I’m wondering if there isn’t a little more personal interest there. She took great offense to his objections to home-schooling. I just don’t want to be a third wheel.

  Luke says: Oh.

  Mibs says: Is it a problem for you? I’ll understand if it is. Ick, it feels like I’m asking you out or something.

  Luke says: I understand. I’ll be there.

  Mibs says: Thanks, Luke. Both for understanding and for coming.

  Luke says: Mom is bugging me for the computer. I’ll let you talk to her if you like. I’ll be back in a bit. Her dryer isn’t drying the clothes.

  Luke says: Hello, Aggie! Has William asked about your message yet?

  Mibs says: LOL. Nope. I think he’s going to chalk it up to awkwardness with a machine or something. I invited Luke to have dinner with Tina, William, and me, but he didn’t seem very enthusiastic.

  Luke says: Oh.

  Libby says: There. At least I don’t feel so masculine now. As for Luke, I think he considers William to be some serious competition.

  Mibs says: Competition for what?

  Libby says: You, of course. My Luke is very fond of you.

  Mibs says: Oh, I think you’re mistaken.

  Libby says: Well, I won’t argue with you or try to make you uncomfortable, but I also won’t pretend not to see what I see.

  Mibs says: Thanks. You’re a good woman, Libby. Have I told you that?

  Libby says: Frequently. I am in danger of growing a bobble head from all your flattery. Ahh, Luke is shooing me off to bed. He seems to think I’m yawning too much. I’ll close out though, so he doesn’t see our conversation.

  Mibs says: Thank you. I think it’d embarrass him. Thanks for everything. I always feel like I never show my appreciation.

  Libby says: Well, you do. So goodnight and don’t worry about it.

  Mibs says: Night.

  Luke says: Well, if you want to get rid of me…

  Mibs says: Your name isn’t Libby--the name I was typing to before you switched.

  Luke says: Mibs, you really need to sleep. You hardly rested at all today, and I know you’re exhausted.

  Mibs says: I know. I just can’t seem to settle.

  Luke says: Take some Benadryl to stave off the itches. It’ll knock you out in no time.

  Mibs says: You’re right! Itching is what woke me up too!

  Luke says: Goodnight, Mibs. I’ll be a couple of streets over tomorrow if you need me. Just send Tavish if I don’t answer my phone.

  Mibs says: Goodnight, Luke. Thanks.

  Getting an Education

  Chapter 15

  Sunday, September 14th

  Dinner over, Tina and William sat on the porch “discussing” Aggie’s new educational adventure, rehabilitation of prisoners, and other equally benign topics of conversation. Luke and Aggie, having spent an entire meal struggling not to laugh at the constant debate over everything from politics and religion to best vacation spots and stereotypes of the wealthy, had kicked the couple out of the kitchen with promises of dessert after the dishes were done and the kitchen cleaned. Once the counters shone and the sink sparkled, Luke presented Aggie with the week’s tally of hours worked. The list included flooring, painting, and a line item at the bottom that read, “.02 for opinions on curriculum choices.”

  She batted him with the invoice on her way to her desk, pulled out her checkbook, and wrote a check for one hundred sixty-two dollars and two cents. “That was probably the first check that I’ve ever written for all this that didn’t make my heart sink. Thank you.”

  “Mibs,” pain filled Luke’s eyes. “You know I’d do it without charge, right?”

  She passed him the check and sank into a barstool. “Luke, if you saw the bank statements I get every month, you’d demand that I treble your salary.”

  “No, I wouldn’t.” He almost sounded hurt.

  “It was a joke.” Aggie covered her head with her hands while she struggled to regain her composure. “Luke, I could do it and I wouldn’t even notice it in my accounts. Allie and Doug were well insured, well invested, and the Stuarts paid a mint for that huge house they owned, and you know what I paid for this.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She stood, pulled a cheesecake from the fridge, and began slicing. “It’s a frozen one, but the gal at the store swears you can’t tell the difference, or so Tina says.” As she slid a piece on a plate, Aggie leaned against the counter, her knife sticking out at an awkward angle. “I keep picturing all the kids coming back for Thanksgiving some year after they’re grown, looking around the house and saying, ‘You spent our inheritance on this place just so you could have a nice house.’”

  “Oh, Mibs, they wouldn’t. The house is for them. They’ll know that.”

  “The rational part of me knows that, but…” She wiped the knife blade on a paper towel and made another cut. “I don’t know how to be frugal with the money and keep up the kind of lifestyle the kids had. I’ve never had private lessons for this and country club memberships and all that stuff that Allie had and hated.”

  “That’s because you can’t, Aggie. You aren’t Allie Stuart, wife of Douglas and daughter-in-law to Douglas Sr. and Geraldine. You’re Aggie Milliken. You have to live as Aggie would. Your sister knew that when she chose you.”

  Aggie handed him two plates and grabbed a few napkins before she took the other two. “I suppose.” At the kitchen door, she turned. “Thanks, Luke. I know I get weird about this stuff. Mom says Allie wouldn’t recognize me. The only time I’ve ever been able to save money was when I worked those summers to buy my car, and even then I had a few setbacks. A missionary came, we had a chance to go to Storyland in Rockland, and then I bought my senior ring. Dumb move that was too. I never wear it.”

  “But,” he said, nudging her through the house, “that was your money. Right now you feel like you’re spending the children’s inheritance.”

  “I am.”

  “No, you’re spending the money left to you for their care. The money was
left to you, not to them in trust with you. The money was left so that you wouldn’t have to worry about paying the bills or scrimping.” He pushed open the screen door. “The money was left for living now, not for giving later.”

  ~*~*~*~

  “So, what do you think about general textbooks for Tavish, Ellie, and Laird for this year, and then seeing how you can involve them in whatever you do for Kenzie?”

  “Charlotte Mason for Kenzie?” Aggie was drawn to how natural the learning process was designed to be, and Kenzie wouldn’t have as many preconceived ideas about how school should work like the other children.

  “Sure. When you do nature studies, bring the others along. Whatever you read aloud, they all listen to, even Vannie if she likes.”

  “Use that website to start with?” Aggie couldn’t imagine anything else, but Tina had been a researching machine.

  “Yep.” Seeing Aggie yawn, Tina pulled the laptop from her. “Go to bed. I’ll figure out what you need to order first, and you can do it tomorrow.”

  Wednesday September 17th

  A restless night, thanks to itchy spots, left Aggie tired and miserable. Ellie, the latest victim, woke up with dozens of spots all over her arms, neck, chest, and face on Monday, and spent all morning recoating herself with calamine lotion. Tavish sat with her, refusing to leave unless she wanted something. At times, Aggie was certain she sent him for a book or a glass of juice just to get some breathing room.

  It was the third day without Tina, and Aggie already felt the weight of sick children on her hands again. With Libby at the dentist for the morning and Luke working on his new house, she found herself chasing after Ian, settling squabbles between the twins and Kenzie, and then chasing after Ian again. By the time Libby arrived, she almost sobbed with relief.

  “Would you mind if I went upstairs for just a few minutes? I haven’t sat down all morning. I feel like I’m going to drop.”

  “Sure. Take a sandwich and your books up there, and don’t come down until you feel like it. I can handle things here.”

  “Mrs. Dyke volunteered to come help if we need her, but try me first, ok? I really don’t want to take advantage of her generosity.” Hearing how thoughtless those words sounded, Aggie arranged her face into an exaggerated sheepish expression and added, “I’d rather take advantage of you.”

  “Get up there, silly girl.”

  Vannie heard her aunt climbing the stairs from her bed and followed. Just as Aggie arranged the bed comfortably, she heard a gentle knock and sighed. Certain Libby needed her after all, she called, “Come in,” and began climbing from her bed. The sight of Vannie stopped her. “Are you ok?”

  “I’m feeling a lot better, actually. I don’t think I have any new pox today.”

  “Good! Maybe when your videos arrive, you’ll feel up to doing them.”

  “I can’t wait! I feel so behind already.”

  Aggie looked closely at her niece. “What’s bothering you, Van? You look upset.”

  “I’m not really upset, but I’ve been thinking about something.”

  Scooting over, Aggie made room on the bed next to her. She made a mental note to find a loveseat for her room for just these kinds of aunt-niece/nephew chats. “Come sit with me, and tell me what has you looking so troubled.”

  The girl fidgeted for a few seconds, and then blurted out, “We all overheard your argument with Mr. Markenson.”

  “Yes. That wasn’t one of my shining moments, was it?”

  “Well, actually, I thought you made a lot of sense. I never knew people might think we thought badly of them for wearing different clothes.”

  “Well, I dare say William won’t be making that assumption again anytime soon.”

  “Well, that’s just it. I was surprised when you came down in those pants.” Aggie watched as the girl struggled to articulate her thoughts, not unlike Luke’s frequent pauses and restarts. “I mean, I thought you didn’t wear pants--like us. Mommy never wore them, we weren’t allowed to wear them--well, the boys were--and you haven’t worn them before….” Vannie’s eyes were wide and earnest as she asked the burning question in her curious mind. “So, you think it’s ok for girls and women to wear pants?”

  “Well, I’ve worn them most of my life, so I’d say so.”

  “Then why were you mad at Mr. Markenson for saying he was glad you were wearing them that day?”

  “Because he made unjust assumptions about me based upon what I wear. Since he’s always seen me in skirts, he just assumed that I was self-righteous about it, which, if you think about it, was awfully self-righteous of him.”

  “So,” Vannie’s tendency to examine every question from every angle was not lost on the conversation. “If you think pants are ok, why don’t you wear them more often?”

  With a deep breath, a p-mail shot heavenward for wisdom, and a forced smile, Aggie tried to explain something she’d never had to articulate to anyone. “Vannie, I’m not going to discount your mother’s conviction on modesty standards, but I don’t share them. I wear skirts or dresses most of the time because I like them; I’m comfortable in them. I want to look and feel feminine, and dresses do that for me.” She paused, searching for the perfect words in her desire not to preach to and subsequently alienate her eldest niece.

  At last, she thought she knew what to say. “You see, some people, your parents for instance, believe that the Bible requires women to wear only skirts or dresses--that because pants were originally worn by men in our culture, women are forbidden to wear them. That’s fine for them, but I don’t see that in scripture. I understand their argument, I have studied it, but I did not come to the same conclusion.”

  “Right. So you got mad because he thought you believed like Mommy?”

  “I got made because it’s frustrating when people assume that if you do wear skirts or dresses all the time that you believe everyone must--that they’re substandard Christians or something if they don’t. It’s, well, it’s making a judgment of someone’s motives--it’s judging the heart.”

  “Jesus said not to judge, or you’ll be judged in the same way.”

  “Right. I believe Jesus is telling us not to judge people’s hearts and motives--that only God can see the heart and therefore judge it.”

  Vannie nodded slowly as if beginning to understand. “So the reason you told Aunt Tina not to buy us jeans was because Mommy didn’t let us wear them?” The girl blushed. “Aunt Tina had me try some on anyway, but they looked weird and felt funny.”

  “Well,” Aggie began, laughing, “with the kind of jeans she said you guys found, I don’t doubt it. She told me about that. She thought I meant you had enough jeans, but when you didn’t find any appropriate skirts or dresses, she thought she should get you something to wear.”

  “Does Mrs. Sullivan believe like Mommy? Does she think that girls should only wear skirts or dresses? I don’t think I’ve seen her wear pants.” The girl’s struggle with some aspect of the topic was evident from the worry in her eyes to the wrinkled brow.

  “I just don’t know, Vannie. I’ve never asked.” She thought for a moment. “I think you’re right, though. I’m pretty sure I’ve only seen her in dresses--not even skirts I don’t think. Then again, until today I’d never unpacked mine.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, as I said, I tend to prefer skirts anyway, but I think I probably subconsciously adopted a similar dress style. People tend to do that unless they have convictions against something or strong personal preferences. For example, skinny jeans make me feel claustrophobic, so I don’t own any.”

  “So how do you know,” the girl persisted, “if someone believes like Mommy or is like you? How can you tell?”

  That question made Aggie nervous. Cautiously, and with each thought worded with Luke-like precision, she tried to handle the question as delicately as possible. “Vannie, why does it matter? Is it my business to know why someone wears anything? Why would you choose purple over brown or corduroy over denim? Why do so
me women wear a great variety of styles and articles and others have a more limited wardrobe?”

  “But those aren’t--”

  “They are the point, Vannie. They are. Your responsibility before God is to please Him in everything that you do and leave God’s convictions between Him and those He chooses to convict.” Her eyes widened in surprise as she realized what she’d just said. “That’s what I tried to explain to William. Instead, I got defensive and took up an offense for people who could probably care less what William thinks of their wardrobe choices.”

  Although Vannie seemed visibly relieved, Aggie could see lingering doubts in the girl’s expression. “You know, while you all live with me, I want you to wear dresses. It honors your parents’ wishes for you, but I want you to study this. Go to the Bible and read everything it says about clothing, modesty, femininity, masculinity. Everything. I’ll find you articles by people who hold your parents’ convictions and by those who don’t. Examine what each side uses to back up their position. Are their arguments scriptural? See if they trying to excuse behavior with verses taken out of context. Make sure they are not trying to require behavior with verses taken out of context. Take it all to the Lord and see where He guides you through your study. Just base your own convictions on the Word. Don’t base them on what I think or even on what your parents thought. Base them only on the Word.”

  “I don’t understand something.” Vannie’s eyes were narrowed in that way that always made her look angry when she was actually concentrating.

  “What is that?”

  “Well, you say to study the Bible for myself, but you also say I have to follow Mommy and Daddy’s convictions for us. Why do I have to follow one if I come to a different conclusion?”

  Aggie had begun to think Vannie would make an excellent lawyer. “Well, it’s like I asked William. Is it a sin to wear them even if you don’t believe you must?”