Hometown Ties

by Melody Carlson

  She sat down and flipped through a recent issue of People magazine, surprised to find herself actually amused by the Hollywood drivel that Caroline seemed to thrive upon.

  It was a bit past ten thirty when Abby heard a moaning sound coming from the living room. Her first response was to ignore it and hope the old woman was just having a dream or indigestion problems. When the groan grew louder, Abby decided to peek out and make sure nothing was severely wrong.

  Mrs. McCann appeared to be trying to extract herself from her chair but hadn’t bothered to put the extended footrest down. Perhaps she’d forgotten how the mechanism operated. She had pushed herself precariously close to the edge of the chair and looked as if she was about to tumble down.

  “Let me help you,” Abby said as she hurried over, bracing the old woman with one hand as she reached for the lever to lower the footrest. “There you go.”

  Mrs. McCann sat frozen in her chair, staring at Abby with wide, frightened eyes. Her lips moved, but no sound came out.

  “Remember me?” Abby said in a friendly tone. “I’m Abby. Caroline’s friend. I’ve known you since I was a little girl.”

  “Little … girl?” Mrs. McCann looked even more confused.

  “Abby.” Abby pointed to her chest.

  “Abby.”

  Abby smiled. “Yes. That’s right.”

  “Abby.” Mrs. McCann pointed to her own chest now, as if she thought her name might be Abby too. At least her fear seemed to have resided some.

  Abby sat down on the sofa, wondering what to say next. “Caroline is looking at a dog,” she finally said.

  Mrs. McCann’s brows drew together. “Dog?”

  “Yes.” Abby nodded eagerly. “A dog.” Then, feeling a bit silly, Abby imitated a dog, even barking in case Mrs. McCann didn’t quite get it. Fortunately, this seemed to amuse the old woman.

  “Dog …” Mrs. McCann repeated the word as if trying to recall something.

  Abby was tempted to tell her that Caroline would be bringing home a dog, but she didn’t know for sure, and it seemed mean to go into the details if Caroline decided not to. Instead, Abby pointed to the TV, where a small dog was jumping in the air. “There’s a dog,” she said. “A little dog.”

  “Little dog.”

  “Yes.” Abby peered at the screen. “I think that’s a Pekingese.” Then Abby pretended she was talking to her granddaughter, Lucy, and continued chattering on and on about a lot of insignificant small things. To Abby’s relief, Mrs. McCann didn’t seem to mind this a bit. Nor did she seem to miss her daughter.

  It was nearly eleven when Abby heard Caroline coming into the house. Abby glanced toward the small foyer to see Caroline poking her head around the corner with a curious grin.

  “Your mom’s awake,” Abby informed her.

  “I’ve brought someone with me,” Caroline announced. Then she and a fairly large golden retriever burst into the living room. Mrs. McCann jumped back, pulling up her knees and holding her clenched hands to her chest as if she expected to be eaten alive.

  “It’s a dog,” Abby explained gently. “A big dog.”

  “His name is Chuck,” Caroline said as she came closer, holding the dog’s leash securely. “He’s a very sweet dog. Do you want to pet him, Mom?”

  Mrs. McCann shook her head. “No! Go ’way!”

  Abby reached out and petted the dog’s head. “Nice doggy,” she said in a gentle voice. “Good doggy.”

  Caroline sat on the sofa next to Abby, telling Chuck to sit as well, which he did. “Chuck is a good dog,” she told Abby as they both petted him. “Isn’t his fur soft?”

  “Yes,” Abby agreed. “He’s very soft. Did he just have a bath?”

  “I don’t know. But his fur is so silky and smooth.” Caroline glanced nervously at Abby. “He’s such a good dog. Don’t you just love him?”

  Abby continued petting the dog, saying nice things about him, about how pretty he was, how soft his fur was, all the while sneaking peeks at Mrs. McCann, hoping that maybe she was being convinced.

  “I’m going to take Chuck outside,” Caroline finally announced. “Unless you want to pet him first, Mom.”

  Her mom still looked a bit uncertain. But Caroline walked Chuck over to her chair anyway. “See how nice he is?” She slowly took her mom’s hand and set it on Chuck’s back.

  Still frowning, Mrs. McCann moved her fingers on his coat, then slowly ran her hand down his back as if trying to decide whether this was a positive experience or not.

  “He’s a good dog, Mom,” Caroline said. “He’s going to be our friend.”

  “Friend.” Mrs. McCann’s hand still rested on Chuck’s back.

  Now Chuck turned his head around and licked Mrs. McCann’s fingers, but she jerked her hand back so quickly that Abby expected her to shriek as if he’d bitten her. Instead, her mom giggled like a child.

  “He likes you, Mom,” Caroline said happily. “Chuck likes you.”

  Mrs. McCann petted him again, smiling shyly now. “Chuck.”

  “Chuck is a good dog,” Abby said with wonder. “A really good dog.”

  Abby decided to stick around for a bit, since Paul would be golfing for a couple more hours anyway. Plus she knew Caroline appreciated the moral support. When Mrs. McCann was in need of “a little freshening up” as Caroline discretely put it, Abby offered to take Chuck outside and introduce him to the backyard.

  She and Chuck were walking around in back when Abby heard a man’s voice calling out for Caroline. Chuck barked and ran straight for the gate by the garage, and Abby joined him to see who was on the other side.

  “Oh.” A young man looked at her in surprise. “I thought this was where Caroline lived.”

  “It is.” Abby tipped her head toward the house. “She’s inside.”

  “Are you her mom?”

  Now, although he seemed a decent young man, Abby suddenly wanted to throw something at his head. “No. I’m not her mom. Caroline’s in the house with her mom.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” He looked embarrassed now. “Anyway, Caroline emailed me last night. She wanted me to sit with her mom while she went to look at a dog. I emailed this morning but didn’t hear anything back, so I decided to just pop in.”

  “Yes, well, I stayed with her mom,” Abby explained, still feeling disgruntled over the confused identity. “And obviously, Caroline got the dog. This is Chuck.”

  “Oh.” He nodded. “I’m Brent. I’m in Caroline’s Alzheimer’s support group. Mind if I let myself in?”

  She stepped away from the gate. “Sure, come on in. I’m Abby—Caroline’s friend.”

  Brent came in, then knelt to pet the dog, gently tugging on his ears as if familiar with dogs like this. Since Chuck seemed to like it, Abby simply folded her arms and watched. “So you care for someone with Alzheimer’s too?” she asked when Brent finally stood up.

  “My dad. It’s not too advanced, although he definitely needs help with some things. I’m trying to find someone to live with him.” Brent looked hopefully at Abby. “Hey, you’re not looking for a live-in situation, are you?”

  For the second time, Abby wanted to hurl something directly toward this young man—maybe that shovel. “No,” she said curtly. “I’m not looking for work.”

  “But you help care for Caroline’s mom?”

  “Not exactly.” Abby walked over to the patio and sat down with a thud. “I just watched her mom for her this morning so that she could look at the dog. As I mentioned, Caroline and I are friends.” She wanted to add that they’d been friends since their school days—hint, hint—but controlled herself. If Caroline wanted to pretend she was thirtysomething, that was her problem. Still, Abby was curious as to what kind of relationship Caroline might be having with this young friend. Brent ventured over to the grassy area,
playing with Chuck like he was a kid. Actually, he was a kid. Probably about the same age as Abby’s oldest daughter.

  “Hello?” Caroline stuck her head out of the patio door. “Abby, do me a favor, will you, and go open the gate for—”

  “I already did,” Abby told her.

  Caroline looked confused now. “Adam is already back there with you?”

  Abby frowned. “Adam?”

  “Yeah. He just knocked on the front door, and I told him to go around back so Mom doesn’t get upset.”

  “Adam?” Abby glanced over at Brent, who was out of Caroline’s view.

  “Remember?” Caroline said impatiently. “Adam Fowler from high school.”

  Abby blinked. “He’s here?”

  Caroline nodded. “I have to go finish up with Mom. Thanks!”

  Feeling like she was in some kind of hidden-camera show, Abby cautiously walked over to the gate where, sure enough, another guy was waiting. This was a much older guy, to be sure, but he looked vaguely familiar.

  “Oh, hi,” he said congenially. “Caroline said someone would let me in.”

  “Come on in,” Abby told him. The next thing she knew, she was performing introductions and wondering if she should be offering these guys something to drink.

  “You’re not the same Abby?” Adam’s brow creased as he studied her. “From high school? Abby Lund?”

  Abby smiled. “Yes. But it’s Abby Franklin now. I married Paul Franklin.”

  “Oh, yeah. I remember Paul. He’s the one with the housing development on North Shore.”

  “That’s right.”

  Adam nodded to Brent. “I’ll bet you’re Abby’s son.”

  Abby just laughed. “No. Brent is Caroline’s friend from her Alzheimer’s support group. Brent’s dad has Alzheimer’s too.”

  “Oh. That’s got to be hard.” Adam focused in on Abby again. “Your husband is actually the reason I came back to Clifden this weekend. He’s going to show me a house this afternoon.”

  “After his golf game,” Abby supplied.

  “Yes. He mentioned a nice golf course in the area.”

  Abby glanced at her watch now. “Speaking of Paul, I promised to have lunch ready for him by one. I suppose I should be going.” She stood. “I’m sure Caroline will be out shortly.” She had no idea when or if Caroline was coming out, but that wasn’t really her problem. That was for Caroline to sort out. With the way these guys seemed to be sizing each other up, Abby suspected there would be some sorting out to do, which was what motivated Abby to go through the house. She wanted to give Caroline a little heads-up. She found Caroline in the living room getting her mom resettled in the recliner. Abby grinned mischievously.

  When Caroline was out of her mom’s earshot, Abby spilled the beans. “I let Adam into the backyard. And in case you didn’t notice, your young friend Brent is back there too.”

  “Brent’s here?” Caroline looked shocked.

  “Yes. I introduced him and Adam. Adam thought Brent was my son.” Abby shook her head with a frown. “Worse than that, Brent thought I was your mother.”

  “Oh dear.” Caroline grimaced as she took a juice box from the fridge. “Did you straighten them all out?”

  Abby just smiled. “No, dear, I’ll leave that to you.”

  Caroline’s cell phone rang, so Abby took the juice box from her, stuck in the straw, then took it over to Mrs. McCann, who seemed to appreciate it.

  “Mitch?” Caroline said in a slightly high voice. “You’re home?” She tossed Abby a startled look. “You’re here? Here in Clifden?” Now she made a helpless look. “And on your way over? No, that’s not a problem. Sure, see you when you get here.” Caroline closed her phone and looked at Abby. “Mitch is on his way here right now. He got home from Thailand yesterday and flew up here this morning.”

  “How exciting.” Abby glanced toward the patio door. “Now you have four guys to hang out with.”

  “Four?”

  “Brent, Adam, Mitch, and Chuck.”

  “Oh, yeah. Chuck.” Caroline’s hand flew to her hair. “What am I going to do?”

  Abby just laughed. “Have fun, I suppose. I have to go fix some lunch for my guy. Thank goodness there’s only one.”

  Abby drove away feeling nothing but relief. Really, if Caroline was up to caring for her mom, acquiring a dog, and entertaining three guys simultaneously, more power to her. Just thinking about all that made Abby tired.

  Chapter 24

  Caroline

  Seeing that her mom was comfortably stretched out in her recliner, Caroline picked up the baby monitor, then braced herself and went into the backyard.

  “There you are.” Adam hugged her, perhaps a little too long. “How are you doing, Caroline?”

  “Okay.” She stepped away from Adam then nodded to Brent, who was kneeling by Chuck and scratching the dog behind the ear. “Hey, Brent, I didn’t see you back here earlier. How’s it going?”

  “Not bad.” He grinned. “I see you got your dog. Chuck seems like a real good boy.”

  She went over and knelt on the other side of the dog. “He is a good boy. Aren’t you, Chuck? My mom even likes him.”

  “Brent tells me he’s in your support group,” Adam said in the sort of way that seemed to beg for an explanation of some sort.

  Caroline stood. “Yeah. Brent’s going through a similar thing with his father.”

  “Sorry I didn’t get here in time to help with your mom,” Brent said. “And sorry if I insulted your friend Abby. I think I offended her when I asked if she was your mom.”

  Caroline chuckled. “Yeah, she wasn’t too cool with that.”

  Adam was laughing. “You thought Abby was Caroline’s mom?”

  Brent nodded.

  “Abby’s the same age as Caroline.”

  Brent looked shocked. “No way.”

  “It’s true,” Caroline confessed. “We went to school together.” She pointed to Adam. “He went to school with us too.”

  “No way!” Brent looked from Caroline to Adam and back again. “I actually thought maybe Adam was your dad.”

  Caroline couldn’t help but hug Brent. “You are so sweet. I think I should keep you around to stroke my ego.”

  “You thought I was Caroline’s dad?” Adam sounded wounded. “I look that old?”

  “Hello back there,” called what sounded like Mitch’s voice.

  “Come on in.” Caroline went over to the gate and waved. “Join the party.”

  He looked puzzled as he came into the backyard. She gave him a quick hug and started introductions, but before she sorted them all out, she heard her mother calling for help. “Sorry, I need to check on Mom,” she called over her shoulder as she hurried inside.

  On one hand she was relieved to escape from the unlikely trio gathered in her backyard. On the other hand, she was worried about what might transpire during her absence. There wasn’t much she could do about it, though. Her mother had decided she was hungry, and that was a good thing. Caroline wanted to get some food in front of her before she changed her mind.

  She opened a can and poured some chicken noodle soup in a large mug, then put that into the microwave. Then she opened a package of vanilla pudding, set some Ritz crackers on a plate, put these along with a napkin and spoon onto the tray, and still had a few seconds left on the microwave.

  “Here you go, Mom,” she said cheerfully. “Lunch is served.”

  Her mom scowled as she slowly picked up a spoon and tentatively stuck it into the soup.

  “Chicken noodle soup,” Caroline said, “your favorite.”

  “Harrumph.”

  “And vanilla pudding.”

  Her mom looked up at her with a confused expression. “Dog?”

  �
��The dog is outside.”

  “Outside.”

  Caroline nodded. “Yes. Do you want me to go check on him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. You eat, and I’ll go check on Chuck.”

  “Chuck.” Her mom looked down at her food again, then slowly lifted the spoon to her mouth.

  With the baby monitor still in hand, Caroline went back outside to find Adam standing on the patio with his fists planted on his hips and feet spread apart in what seemed a confrontational stance. “Mitch here tells us that he’s your boyfriend.” Adam cocked his head to one side. “Is that true, Caroline?”

  Caroline wasn’t sure how to respond. “Well, Mitch and I have gone out—”

  “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend either,” Brent said with a sad expression.

  “I guess it never came up.” Caroline held up her hands helplessly. “I’m not even sure I’d call it that … I mean we’ve dated.”

  “It seems these guys thought they were dating you too,” Mitch added with a tone of accusation.

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Brent explained. “But I was hoping to date her.”

  “I thought you and I had a serious relationship,” Adam told her. “We talk all the time … I tell you things I never even told my wife.”

  “You have a wife, too?” Brent asked him.

  “An ex-wife.”

  “It appears we’re all a little confused,” Mitch said with aggravation. “Maybe you’d like to straighten us out.”

  “And I want you to tell these guys just where I stand with you,” Adam insisted.

  Brent stepped over and patted her on the shoulder. “I really didn’t know you were that old, Caroline. Not that I wouldn’t date an older woman … but you’re almost my mom’s age.”

  She nodded. “I know. I don’t really want to be a cougar.”

  He smiled. “I’m not too comfortable being cougar bait either.”

  “But I hope we can still be friends.”

  “Yeah. I’ll see you at group next week.”

  With Brent gone, Adam focused his angst onto Mitch. “What kind of boyfriend are you anyway? Gone all the time. Never call, never write.”