Someday Home

by Lauraine Snelling

  “Not yet.”

  “Well, let’s get at it. Hand me half and you take half, and then we’ll meld them.”

  “I feel guilty…” Lynn sat up straight.

  “Oh, hush.” Judith held out one hand and pushed Homer off her lap with the other.

  Lynn hesitated only a moment. She never had been one to look a gift animal of any kind in the mouth. One could get bitten that way.

  Less than half an hour later, Lynn slammed the file drawer closed and switched off the light as the two left the room. They headed for the kitchen, of course.

  Lynn refilled her coffee and raided the cookie jar. “Thank you again for your help. I’m so glad all that is done.”

  “You’re welcome.” Judith perched on a stool and studied her coffee mug. “You mentioned that Tom is good at math. Do you think he’d coach me? I’d pay him, of course.”

  “I seriously doubt that; I mean, that he’d let you pay him. But yes, I’m sure he’d like to do that. I’ll call him right now; he and Josie are still up.”

  Judith babbled something about not bothering them this late, but Lynn had already punched the speed dial.

  “Lundbergs.”

  Lynn smiled. “Tom, Judith here needs some help with her math. Can you coach her?”

  “Put her on.”

  Lynn handed Judith the phone. She had thought it was an easy question with a one-word answer. Apparently not.

  Judith listened a moment. “Precalculus.” She listened some more. “No. An old Sharp’s. I can buy whatever calculator I ought to have.” Pause. “Are you sure?” Pause. “Well, yes. All right. Thank you!” She handed the phone back to Lynn.

  “Mom? Be there in ten minutes. I have to find my T81.”

  “Thank you. Whatever a T81 is.” Lynn hung up.

  Judith shook her head. “You Lundbergs do everything instantly, for sure! Phillip says ‘footings’ and presto. They’re poured. You say ‘hot dog bun’ and instantly you have dozens of them on the cooling rack. Tom wanted to know what level of math I needed help with, and instantly, he’s coming over with a graphing calculator. The instructor said we were going to need one; Tom already knew.”

  “I was thinking he’d be a good resource.” Should she leave the two of them alone to chat in math languages Lynn didn’t know? Or sit by and listen? “How about potato pancakes tomorrow morning? I have an urge to cook potatoes.”

  Judith laughed. “Sounds good! I’m going to run and get my textbook.”

  Potato pancakes and hash browns. That would be mighty tasty. And as she peeled the potatoes, Lynn thought about eggs. Having eggs right in your backyard would be nice; heaven knows they’d be fresh. No, she didn’t like keeping chickens. She didn’t want chickens. But as Angela said, they would not be her responsibility; with everyone helping (Miss Priss and her brothers as well, especially when they got a little older), it would not be a chore. If they wanted eggs for the whole family, they’d have to have more than five hens. That would mean a bigger coop, or build additional nest boxes in this one. Or…

  Tom came in the back door grinning. “Hi, Mom.” He gave her a peck on the cheek and crossed to Judith. “Good evening.” He laid a very fancy calculator on the counter. It was at least six or seven inches long and about half that wide. In addition to the usual number pad, it had a row of key options Lynn had never seen before and a greenish-gray monitor screen in the top half. Amazing, and Tom knew how to use this?

  Judith picked it up. “Yes. This is what the instructor has; well, something similar.”

  Tom smiled. “No doubt she has a newer model that costs twice what this did. But this has all the functions you’ll need for precalc, and I put fresh batteries in it. Where should we start?”

  Judith looked miserable. “Page one.”

  He laughed as he dragged Judith’s text over in front of himself and opened it. “You’ll be surprised how well you can do this.”

  “That would be a surprise, for sure.”

  Lynn busied herself with her potatoes. Judith frequently said, “Oh. I see,” and Tom would say things like, “I knew you’d remember,” and “Here’s how factorials work,” and “Wait; we can do it easier with logarithms. Let’s review logarithms.” And Lynn sang praises to God, silently, of course. She remembered the sullen, angry boy who returned from active duty three years ago, how much he had changed—a good change, a happy change.

  She drained her potatoes, leaving a little liquid in the bottom in case they wanted mashed potatoes for dinner tomorrow, and put them aside to cool.

  “So that catches you up?” Tom closed the textbook.

  “It does! Thank you so much, Tom.” She studied him a moment. “You should be teaching college-level math. You’re brilliant at explaining something so that I can understand it. And believe me, if I can, anyone can.” And then she asked a question Lynn dreaded. “Why aren’t you?”

  But Tom didn’t duck it, and Lynn rejoiced all over again; he had healed so much in the last few years!

  “I’m a wounded warrior, Judith.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I was in the Marines for four years—almost four years. Saw two tours of active duty, watched my buddies die, killed a few people myself. It messed me up royally. Dad hired me as soon as I walked out of the hospital, and Josie and the boys stuck with me in spite of it all. And Mom here. Things are looking up again.”

  “You’re a fine plumber. But you’re a fine teacher, too.” Judith giggled suddenly. “And you put in great footings.”

  He laughed, too. “Great footings. My other marketable skill. Let’s get together, you and me and the textbook, after your next class session.”

  “Thank you! Yes!”

  Lynn was jumping up and down with joy on the inside and merely grinning on the outside. Being a teacher to a woman who wanted to learn was better than any tonic for her son. Thank you, God! Thank you, God!

  She went to bed that night a very happy mother.

  She woke abruptly. Homer was barking, a wild frenzy of barking and tearing around the house. Lynn rolled out of bed and ran to the kitchen barefooted. Angela and Judith came rushing in. Homer stood at the back door in full basset cry.

  Lynn grabbed the five-cell flashlight from the shelf.

  “Where are you going?” Angela cried.

  “See what’s out there.” She snapped a lead on the dog’s collar and opened the door. Good thing she braced; the dog nearly jerked her off her feet. She shone the spotlight toward the chicken pen. The gate had swung open and her light picked up two shiny eyes. The raccoon hissed and snarled as she came closer with the barking dog. She quickly slammed the gate shut and slid the hasp closed.

  “What are you going to do?” Judith asked from behind her.

  She headed back toward the house. “Call Phillip and have him come dispatch it. If we don’t, it will be back. That’s why we built the chicken coop so secure. I was afraid it might be something bigger. Homer, that’s enough. You’ve done your job.”

  She handed Angela the lead and Judith the light. “For some strange reason I don’t have my phone in my robe pocket. Silly me. Homer, you can stop barking now.”

  “But what if it’s a female with babies?” Angela asked.

  “Raccoons are cute, but they are destructive predators that eat chickens and chicken eggs, garden vegetables, all kinds of great delicacies. Homer, quiet!”

  “You said you thought it might be something bigger.”

  “Coyote, fox, lynx, we’ve even had some big cats around here. That’s why I put Homer on the leash. Or if it was a skunk, we sure don’t want to clean him up after that.”

  They could see the truck lights coming in the driveway and not at a leisurely pace, either. Phillip jumped out of the truck and brought out his rifle. “I was dead, but Rowdy woke me even before you called. Must have heard Homer. The two of them probably woke all the dead. What’s up?”

  As he came across the yard, Judith trained the spotlight on the critter huddled up a
gainst the chicken house, snarling. The rooster and some of the hens were now squawking inside.

  “He’s a big one. How did he get in? He opened the gate?”

  “I knew they were smart and dexterous, but this is amazing. We’ll have to use something better than that simple latch.” Judith stared at the chicken yard gate swinging open.

  Phillip shook his head.

  Judith watched the would-be chicken thief. “What will you do with it?”

  Phillip grinned. “I thought we’d have raccoon stew for supper tonight.”

  “Oh, gag.” Judith made a retching sound.

  “You wouldn’t!” Angela sounded sick already.

  “He’s kidding.”

  “Well, lots of people think raccoon is a delicacy. Lots of meat on that one.”

  “Thanks, son, we’ll adjourn to the house while you finish up out here. Be careful, it could be rabid.” At his look, she raised her hands. “Just doing my mother job.”

  He bent down and patted the dog. “Good boy, now we know the ladies are safe here with you on guard.”

  Lynn left the light for Phillip and turned the others toward the house. “Sorry, but you live in the country now. In the city you would call animal control, but we have to take care of things out here ourselves.”

  They were entering the house when they heard the gunshot, and a short time later, the truck left.

  Lynn checked the clock—2:00 a.m.

  “Well, I guess good night again.”

  “Hope nothing sets Homer off again. He about scared me out of my wits when he leaped up and charged out the bedroom door.” Judith petted the dog. “I think you deserve a treat.” He followed her to the treat cupboard and plunked his rear immediately, tail sweeping the floor, drool hanging from his jowls.

  When the others headed for bed, Lynn turned off the light and climbed the stairs. Miss Minerva looked up from her spot on the bed, yawned, chirped, and closed her eyes again. “You missed all the excitement, cat. Have you no sense of adventure?” Lynn crawled under the covers. Lord, thank you for our protection hound and the safe chicken house. And thank you I did not have to dispatch that raccoon.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I had the worst nightmares last night.” Angela poured her coffee and sank down on one of the stools at the center island.

  “The raccoon?” Lynn held up a piece of bread. “Toast?”

  “I guess. I dreamed I saw it explode and I threw up in the bushes. My mouth even tastes like I threw up.”

  Lynn set the butter, jam, and peanut butter on the table. “You want cereal?”

  “No, thanks. This is plenty. I need to get showered. I’m working for one of the others who needed time off. Need to be there before we open.”

  The toast popped up, and Lynn laid it on a plate, pushing a knife over with it. “I have the quilters at church today; I was hoping you might go along. I think you would enjoy the group. Get to know more people.”

  Angela smiled. “Next time I will.” She paused. “Lynn, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.” Lynn looked at her questioningly. “Judith mentioned that when I was sleeping so much, you came into my room to check on me.”

  “Well, yes. I was concerned. We both were.”

  “And I appreciate that. But I am an adult, not one of your kids. If this is going to work, you need to respect my privacy.”

  “I— Yes, of course. I understand. I just wanted to help.”

  “I know.” Angela smiled to ease the tension. “In fact, I do need your help with something. Have you heard of any jobs opening around here?”

  “What kind?”

  “I just need some money coming in is all.” Angela shrugged. This not knowing the future was getting a little heavy.

  “Are you strapped?”

  “Not yet, at least not when the house money comes through. Of course, it would be nice if I could figure out what I am going to do with the rest of my life.”

  Lynn put two more slices in the toaster. “Check the job board at the college. And I’m thinking the library might have one, too. Not too many jobs get listed in the paper, but you can try. Come to think of it, there are classes at the college regarding re-entry women especially.”

  This was good marmalade. Angela slopped a bit more of it onto her toast. “I wish they had more paying jobs at the library. I love working there.”

  “Have you talked with Mary? She has more of an idea of what all is going on in this community than anyone else.”

  “Good idea. Thanks for the toast. Need anything from the grocery store?”

  “Milk, two percent, and half-and-half for the coffee. I have that fake stuff here but…” She made a face.

  Angela bobbed her head and jogged to her room. She felt better for having addressed at least one thing that had been bothering her. And Lynn had been so nice about it, too.

  She stared a long moment at the face in the mirror. “You look haggard.” She turned on the shower, and as soon as it warmed, she stepped in. If only she could wash away the lines around her eyes and the purple splotches under them. How come she went from sleeping all the time to not getting enough sleep? Wasn’t there some kind of happy medium somewhere?

  Once she was dressed and had her makeup on, she fixed her bed, put her laundry in the hamper, and headed for the deck. She needed a lake fix to get some kind of calm back. The breeze played with the water, spoiling the reflections, but it didn’t bother the ducks puddling about near the shore. Tail feathers in the air, they nibbled on the bottom grass and plants, then bloop and they’d be right side up again.

  Homer whimpered at the screen door, and when she didn’t answer immediately, he yipped.

  “I’m not staying out here, but I guess you can if you want.” She checked the gate to the steps to make sure it was locked and let him out, then returned to her elbows on the railing, gaze wandering around the lake. A couple was out in a canoe, three kids laughing in a rowboat, and the dock gently bobbed with the moving water. Peaceful, oh, so peaceful. She heard the screech of a hawk but instead saw the eagle floating in the thermals over the lake. Lynn said they were quite the fisher birds, but she had yet to see one dive to catch a fish.

  Her cell rang, so she dug it out of her purse and thumbed it on.

  “Hi, Mom?”

  “Hello, sweetie. How’s my favorite daughter?”

  “You know Dad has been trying to reach you.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “Mom. I don’t know how to say this. Charles and I are really upset about all this.”

  “Gwynn, you’re both grown-ups. You know these things happen.”

  “But to other people’s families, not ours! Dad says he wants to try again, rekindle the romance, and he can’t even reach you. Do you have to be so stubborn? Can’t you at least talk to him?”

  “Gwynn, I remind both of you, I did not initiate this. I did not ask for it, did not want it. Did not file for divorce. The burden is not on me, so don’t call me the stubborn one.”

  “But you’re the one who won’t talk to him! He’s changed, Mom. He’s a new man.”

  Angela sighed heavily. “Look. Right now I can’t even talk to him. I’m working on it, but I’m not there yet, all right? As for getting back together, forget it.” I’ve outgrown him, Gwynn. I see that clearly enough. And I am me again, at last, and not his artificial construct of a wife. I won’t go back.

  “Well, at least talk to him. Promise me you’ll talk to him. He wants it so much.”

  “Maybe. I won’t promise, but maybe.”

  “Mom…” Her voice trembled. “You two are tearing us up. Please reconsider.”

  “First things first.”

  “At least think about it. And talk to him, all right?”

  “Thank you for calling, sweetie.”

  “Yeah. I love you, Mom.” She hung up.

  Well, that certainly was not a happy call. She scratched Homer’s head and bent over to rub his ears. “You be a good boy now. Thanks
for saving the chickens last night. See you this afternoon.”

  She turned to leave and he padded along with her and back into the house. “Suit yourself.” She grabbed her purse she had left on the counter, yelled, “See you later, call me if you need anything,” and out through the mudroom door she went.

  The workday went well. That afternoon when she was ready to leave, she asked Mary if she could have a minute with her.

  “Of course, come on.” They settled into a corner, up in the open area of the old part of the building, the original Carnegie library. There were people at the tables on the far side of the room, but quiet reigned. “Now, how can I help you?”

  “Mary, I love volunteering here and I plan to keep on, but I need a job. I would rather work here than anywhere but…Any suggestions? Lynn said you have a better sense of what is going on than anyone.”

  “Well, I’m not so sure about that, but let me think. I take it you don’t want to go back to being a Realtor?”

  “Not in the least.”

  “As for here, there are no openings right now, but I’d hire you immediately if there were.”

  “Thank you.” Angela kept from fidgeting through sheer force of will.

  “You have a degree in…?”

  “Liberal arts. My father said it wasn’t worth the paper it was printed on, and he was right, but some companies just want a degree. I took classes in bookkeeping and office management at one time after my kids were on their own, but then went to real estate school because it would be faster and I figured I’d be good at it.”

  “Were you?”

  “Fine, growing, getting good feedback from my boss…” She heaved a sigh. Better be honest. “…until a big commercial project fell through and things went downhill after that.”

  “I don’t want to get personal, but are you married?”

  “Not any longer.”

  “Ah. So you plan to stay here in our area.”

  “I do.”

  “Tell you what. Are you in a big hurry?”

  Angela shook her head.

  “Okay, then. Let me ask around. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open and we’ll see what comes up.” She stood. “I would love to have you on staff here. Your years of experience in the school library show in all you do.”