Reunion: A Novel

by Lauraine Snelling

  “I’m back,” she called when she got home.

  “Okay.” Her mother answered from upstairs.

  Leaving the other plastic sacks on the table, Kirsten took hers and climbed the stairs to the bathroom. Here goes, she thought. Please, Lord, let it be negative.

  But staring at the stick as it changed color, the weight settled back on her shoulders. Pregnant. She sank down on the closed toilet lid. Three tests said the same thing. There was no doubt, no room for good news. She put her head down on the edge of the sink and let the tears flow.

  Chapter Nine

  What are you doing?”

  Keira looked up from the computer, realizing that her eyes felt like a dump truck had unloaded sand in them. “Trying to find more information about my early life and hoping there was a mistake on the birth certificate I have.”

  Bjorn crossed the room to stand behind her. Hands on her shoulders, he began kneading the tight muscles. “You need to relax; you’re tight as a drum.”

  She tipped her head to the side to give him better access to the tender spots. “You have healing hands, you know.”

  “You’ve said that before. Maybe I should leave the insurance business and become a massage therapist.”

  “Well, I could run that office just as well, I guess.” She turned to look up at him. “Would you want to do that?”

  “Something to think of for when I retire.”

  “I thought we were going to travel, not start a new business.”

  He used his thumbs to work on the knots at the base of her skull. “Have you found out anything?”

  “I requested another copy of my birth certificate and e-mailed Marcus to ask him to do the same. Of course for mine…” She shrugged. “There have been mistakes made, even in government offices.” She hit the save key. “I need to find more boxes, see if there is any evidence of another man.”

  “What if there aren’t any other boxes? What if Dagmar got rid of all the early stuff?”

  “My mother get rid of something? Come on, honey, you know better than that. Remember the things we found in the barn? She must have moved those boxes out there after Dad died. He would never have allowed old house stuff in his barn.” She thought of the two boxes of empty cottage cheese, sour cream, and other pint and quart plastic containers. Next to that were several boxes of old magazines, which they had donated to the senior center; they sold some of them in their rummage sale and used others for craft projects. The box of what Bjorn called junk—screws and bolts and paint cans and plastic bags and who knew what else—an artist from church took. He used all kinds of odd things in his collages.

  Bjorn hit an especially tender spot on her shoulder. “Ouch.”

  “Sorry.” He lightened his fingers. “So, when are you and Leah going back out to the home place to search the attic?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’ve not called her?”

  “No, and she’s not called me.”

  “For two women who talk on the phone every day at least once, usually more, that’s mighty unusual. If I were you, I’d be concerned.”

  “I’ll take time to call tomorrow.”

  He shrugged. “Graduation is Saturday?”

  “Yes.”

  “And we’re invited there for the celebratory supper afterward?”

  “Yes.” Keira hit the save button, exited the program, and then shut down the computer. “You want a cup of tea? I’m having one.”

  “Sure.” He headed for the door. “I saw Kirsten driving by today. Seemed strange for her to be out of school.”

  “Her last finals were yesterday.” She headed for the kitchen to fix the tea, dishing up lemon bars to go with it. She set out two mugs, not bothering with the china cups and saucers she loved to drink her tea from. She always said tea tasted better from china cups. As a concession to the late evening hour, she used herbal tea, a soothing mix that included chamomile, which was supposed to help her fall asleep quickly. Bjorn was fortunate. He was usually asleep before he could roll over, while she courted sleep and sometimes grew envious of his even breathing. Maybe she should put the lemon bars back; neither one of them needed a sugar high. But one lemon bar wouldn’t make a difference—would it? She could hear Leah saying, “If you didn’t bake them, you wouldn’t be able to eat them.”

  She put the cups and plate, with napkins, on a tray and carried it into the family room, where Bjorn had turned on the television to watch the ten o’clock news. Their two recliners were side by side, separated by an occasional table with a lamp on it. She set the tray on an ottoman and handed Bjorn his cup. One sip and he rolled his eyes.

  “More dried weeds, eh?”

  “Drink up, it’s good for you.” She passed him the plate of treats. “But this isn’t.”

  “One cancels out the other.”

  “Good thought.” A somber male face announced that another wave of tornadoes was tearing up Kansas and Missouri and threatening to swing north, bringing torrential rain. While he talked, pictures of empty lots, piles of rubble, and people digging through the remains scrolled across the screen. A lone dog sniffing at a pile of bricks. Two little girls clutching their mother’s legs while she watched men pulling roofing off what was now a pile of broken two-by-fours, split siding, and sodden junk.

  “Dear God, take care of those people,” Keira whispered. She remembered the horrible roar they’d listened to when a small twister hit the outskirts of Munsford. They’d been down in their tornado cellar, praying for safety. They emerged to find that all was well, though someone had lost a barn and trees. What if they’d come out to find everything gone? She clamped her teeth, ignoring her shaking hands. The horror was beyond her imagining.

  At the end of the broadcast, Bjorn clicked the remote. “Those poor people, losing everything like that.”

  “Did they say how many have died?”

  “Ten confirmed, probably more.” He set his cup on the tray. “The insurance agents and estimators down there are going to be going crazy. Think I’ll call Marcus and ask if the church is planning to send assistance.” He picked up the phone and punched the numbers. “Hi, Leah. Is Marcus near the phone? Good, thanks.” When he hung up, he stared at the blank television. “They’d not heard the news yet tonight.”

  “So what are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking we better get our emergency team out right away.” The last time the church sent emergency aid, Bjorn had been in charge of the efforts, so this was not new to him. “I can’t get the picture of the path of that twister out of my head. Blocks wide and it leveled all it touched. Such a giant of one. Are these getting worse all the time or am I managing to forget how bad it can be in between?”

  Keira shuddered. It could have been their town, their area, so easily. “Those poor families, searching through the rubble, not for their house as much as their family members.” She rolled her lips together and stared at the ceiling to stop the forming tears. What if it were her son or daughter? She stared at Bjorn. Or her husband. “We have to help them. I’m with you, I think the tornadoes are far worse now than they used to be.”

  The phone rang and Bjorn answered it. “Marcus,” he mouthed.

  Keira picked up the tray and returned it to the kitchen. Leave it to Bjorn to immediately think of sending aid. After putting the tray away and the cups in the dishwasher, she shut off the back porch light and headed up to bed. The men were still talking.

  She was already in bed with her devotional book in hand, praying not only for her normal list but also for the suffering people in Kansas, when Bjorn entered the room. “So, what will we do?”

  “He’s calling a meeting for seven a.m., started the telephone tree. You want to go?”

  “I need to bake for the graduation dinner. Kirsten didn’t want a cake but she asked for my apple pies. I’m also trying to think what we can send to help the victims, besides bottled water. I’m assuming that we’ll fill Hansen’s truck like we did before and send it down the ro
ad?”

  “I don’t know. Marcus sounded strange and then said he’d been sick and so had taken today off. Maybe he has the same bug you did.”

  “If he gets over it as fast as I did, that will be a miracle. Certainly hope he’s over it by this weekend. Leah must be going crazy. I’ll call her in the morning.” She picked up her book and put it down. “Those poor people.” Lord, you know the needs far more than we do. Give our guys wisdom as they figure out how we can help. Protect those who need it and heal the wounded. Comfort those who mourn. She looked up when Bjorn slid into bed and laid a hand on his arm. “You’re a good man, Charlie Brown.”

  “I sure wish you’d get my name right.” He kissed her and rolled over to turn out his light. “You going to read long?”

  “Nope.” She did the same. “I love you, Bjorn Johnston. There now, did I get it right?”

  His chuckle warmed the darkness.

  The next morning Keira was up and peeling apples when Bjorn joined her in the kitchen. “You want some breakfast?”

  “No, I’m sure there’ll be coffee and something at the meeting.” He stopped before going out the door. “Call Leah.”

  Keira stared at her husband. He never gave orders like that. “I was planning on it.”

  “Good.” She heard the car start up and the garage door rise. “Yes, sir!” she muttered and then was glad she’d not been a smart mouth before he left. But he sure caught her by surprise. You’d think after nearly twenty-five years of marriage, she’d understand him better. When the clock hit eight she washed the flour and lard off her hands and picked up the phone. Maybe Leah had gone to the meeting too. But she answered on the second ring.

  “Hey, I have a question.”

  “Shoot.”

  “I’m making pies. You think Kirsten would like a chocolate cream pie along with the apple ones?”

  “She said apple but if you want to bake some other kind too, go for it.”

  Did Leah’s voice have an edge to it? “Okay. I’m thinking we should go out to Mother’s and get the extra bedding to send to the tornado victims.”

  “Good idea.”

  “You want to go? Or rather, can you take time to go?”

  Leah heaved a sigh. “I know I should, but the food for the party has to be ready today.”

  “I was thinking this afternoon sometime, after I’m done baking pies.”

  “I have the ham in one oven and the turkey in the other. Check with me later. Besides, we’ll have to see what the church committee decides.”

  “You think Kirsten might like to go along?”

  “I doubt it, but I’ll ask her. I had planned to go out there yesterday but never made it.”

  “Okay. Later.” Keira clicked off the phone. Had all been as usual? Right now she wished she was as good at reading other people as Leah was. But something didn’t feel right. Was it all on her side, in her imagination? Rolling pie crust gave one too much time to think.

  She had three pies in the oven by the time Bjorn returned.

  “We’re going to load the truck today and tomorrow and Hansen will drive down there on Sunday. The call is going out for bedding, sleeping bags, clothing, and we’ll buy cases of bottled water and food bars from the emergency fund.”

  “Who is going with?”

  Bjorn shrugged. “Hansen, Grady, and me. We’ll switch off driving and go straight through.” He pulled his flip notebook from his shirt pocket. “I wish we could leave tomorrow. Those poor people.”

  “I’ll get all I can from Mother’s. We don’t use our sleeping bags anymore.” Her mind took off, sorting through the house, looking for items to help. “Good thing it’s not earlier. How quickly can disaster crews get there?”

  Bjorn looked up from his list. “Radio said the National Guard is on the way, with water purification units, tents, and so on. The Red Cross is coordinating volunteer efforts. Marcia is making phone calls to see where we should go. The telephone tree will reach everyone in the congregation and a plea for help will be on the radio soon.” He wrote some more notes. “I’m going with Hansen down to the grocery parking lot to load all their bottled water, then we’ll go to Iverson’s.” He ticked off something on his list.

  “Soon as I finish these pies, I’ll go get what I can.” She turned on the second oven and rolled out the last of the dough. Setting the timer for forty-five minutes after she slid the last pies in the oven, she went down to the basement to retrieve the four sleeping bags. Upstairs, she stripped the linen closet and started filling garbage bags.

  She called Leah back. “I’ll be ready to leave in fifteen minutes if anyone wants to go along.”

  “Kirsten and I are both coming. You think we need to take two cars? You could donate many of Dagmar’s kitchen things.”

  “One car should do it. Bring a box of garbage bags. I’ve about cleaned ours out.”

  With the pies cooling on the counters, she left the mess in the sink and hustled out to the car. She backed out on the street. “Lord, give us wisdom.” That seemed to be her prayer an awful lot lately.

  As Keira stopped the car at the curb in front of the Sorenson house, Leah and Kirsten climbed in. “I say strip the beds, everything but the memory quilts Mother finished for family members. We can replace what we need by reunion time,” she said. Kirsten was unusually silent. Sullen was the only way to describe the look on her face. Why did she come along if she didn’t want to?

  “The youth group members are collecting stuffed animals for the little kids,” Leah commented.

  Sure that Kirsten was the instigator, Keira glanced in the rearview mirror. “What a great idea, Kirsten. I was thinking about baby things too but we don’t have anything like that at our house anymore.” Kirsten was staring out the window.

  “José and Brandon are hoping to go along with the guys to help distribute things. They’ll follow behind in another car,” Leah said when Kirsten remained mute.

  Keira kept her gaze and her mind on the road. The last of the usually pleasant atmosphere they shared had flown out the window with Kirsten’s glare.

  “So we can fill that trunk too. Maybe… they better take supplies for themselves along. There won’t be anything to buy down there.”

  “That’s what José thought too.” Leah again, as if she were interpreting for her daughter.

  “What a fine young man. This is almost like a pre-missions trip.” Was that a snort she heard from the backseat?

  A cell rang and Leah answered. “Okay. Make sure you let Marcia know. She’s keeping track of donations and needs. They’ve already started a fund at the bank for contributions.”

  “Guess we learned a lot the last time we did this.” Keira turned on her blinker at the driveway to the home place.

  “Marcus is wishing the truck could be ready to leave tomorrow afternoon, but so many families are involved in graduation.”

  “Not a good time, but is there ever a good time for disasters to happen?”

  “Yeah, something like accidents,” Leah answered.

  Keira heard a cough from the backseat. She glanced in the mirror to see Kirsten wiping tears away with the tips of her fingers. What was that all about? Had Kirsten and Leah had another fight? They’d gotten along so well through the years that these later months had been a culture shock to all of them. Kids had to exert their independence and all that, but still… rude was rude. And Kirsten had never been rude like this.

  Chapter Ten

  Bring the things to the living room and we can pack them there.” Keira marshaled her troops. “You two take the linen closet upstairs and I’ll start in the bedrooms. Take the mattress pads too. Just drop the things over the banister rather than carrying them down.”

  “What about Grammy’s really old quilts?” Kirsten asked, her first comment for the day.

  “That’s a good question.” Keira looked to Leah. “If they’re antiques…?”

  “So what would Dagmar rather we do? That people be kept warm or we hoard the antique quil
ts?”

  “Well, if you put it that way… If there is one that you know is special to someone, let’s keep that but otherwise we’ll send them.” She looked to the others for agreement and when they nodded, she did too. “It’s a shame we haven’t had time to tie off some of those tops she finished. If I’d gotten them to the ladies at church they would have been ready.”

  “Yeah, well, ‘if’ is a great word but not much help. Come on, Kirsten.” The two headed upstairs while Keira went to her mother’s sick room. She stripped the bed and folded the blankets and sheets. Should they send the pillowcases too? Pillows would take up a lot of space. While the truck looked big in the beginning, she remembered how quickly it had filled up the last time it had been used to deliver disaster-relief supplies.

  She pulled a plastic storage box from under the bed only to find more old photographs, perhaps the ones she and Leah had been looking for. How had they missed these? Charging out of the bedroom, she hollered up the stairs. “I found them!”

  Leah looked over the banister. “Found what? Move back—a load’s coming down.”

  Keira did as she was told as a stack of linens hit the floor in front of her. “Those early pictures. Mother must have been going through them, because they were under her bed.”

  “Good, we can sort them on Monday.”

  “I sure won’t wait until Monday,” Keira muttered, hauling the picture box out to the car and setting it on the backseat so they wouldn’t forget it. Returning to the bedroom, she found another stack of quilts on the shelf in the closet. Two of these had names on them. She put the other two in the give-away pile. What about towels and soap? They really needed two trucks. Maybe the church could send another load down later.