by Janet Spaeth
There was a telephone in the living room. She shook her head. Way to be calm, Livvy, she scolded herself. She’d totally spaced that out.
That telephone worked, wired nicely into the wall, and she picked up the receiver. How weird it felt to use this phone. It must be decades old. The handset was heavy and black, with a ridge along the top.
She dialed the first plumber on her list, and got a recording with the hours—they were not open on Saturdays or Sundays.
And this was a Saturday.
She tried the second number, and this time got someone. “Sunshine? You want me to come to Sunshine to turn off the water? Do you know how far I’ll have to drive? Lady, that’s going to cost you about $300 just to do that. You want it fixed, too? You’re looking at $500, easy.”
Leonard barked, a long series of happy sounds, and she sighed in relief. That meant that Hayden must not have left.
Silly her. Of course he wouldn’t have gone off without telling her. She was just letting her imagination run away with her. She’d better nip that in the bud if she was going to stay out here all year round.
She realized that it had ended. The water had stopped. Hayden must have gotten the water to the house turned off. She breathed a deep sigh of relief.
She went back into the basement.
The mop was conveniently by the broken pipe. She’d been using it to swab down spiderwebs before her plumbing adventure. She shook her head as she remembered that her worst fear had been a spider dropping on her head. It should have been water!
She ran the mop over the floor. Luckily it was concrete, so she didn’t have to worry about drying out carpets or warping wooden flooring. Most of the water she chased into a drain that was near the washing machine, and within minutes she was finished in the basement.
The best place for the wet mop was in the sun, where it would dry quickly, and she hurried up the stairs, holding it at arm’s length, although she realized how pointless that was. She was pretty well splattered with water from the pipe.
The barking was closer, and she heard Hayden talking to Leonard. “Settle down now. Yes, that’s your ball. No, I won’t throw it. Okay, I’ll throw it. Now go find that dumb chicken to chase. Or Martha Washington. That worthless cat is probably asleep in the henhouse again.”
She smiled to herself as she listened to him. It was like a dialogue.
“Leonard, no, I don’t have time.”
Bark.
“I said no. Well, just this once.”
Bark bark bark bark.
There was a thump, which Livvy knew must be the ball hitting one of the outbuildings.
Bark bark bark.
“I have to go in and—oh, all right. But I’m serious, this is the very last time.”
Bark bark.
With her elbow, she opened the screen door and propped the wet mop against the porch railing. “Hayden! Thank you so much!”
He paused, mid-throw. “Oh Livvy. I got the water turned off. I was on my way in to tell you when—” He gestured at the dog, who danced around him in gleeful anticipation.
“I understand. But what did you do that I didn’t do, and would you please throw that ball before Leonard has a canine coronary?”
“What? Oh sure.” He threw the ball and the dog tore off after it. “Doesn’t he ever wear out?”
“Not that I’ve been able to tell. So how did you stop the water?”
“I used the turn-off to the house. Let me show you what I mean.”
The dog followed them, yellow tennis ball still in his mouth and now covered with wet sand and dirt, as Hayden led her to the shaded side of the house.
“This,” he said, pointing at a cement square set in the ground near the side of the house, “is where the main valve is. You pull on this handle, lift the cover, and there’s the valve.”
She shook her head. “I thought it would be inside.”
“It should be, but we just never got around to it.”
“Why wasn’t it there in the first place? Why put it outside at all?” This made no sense to her.
“It’s not uncommon out here with old houses that grew—or un-grew, if I can make up a word—without much design. There used to be a room in that spot, kind of a root cellar/pantry/storage space, all rolled into one. At least that’s what Gramps said.”
“Ah,” she said. Now it made sense. Sort of.
“That’s actually something you should take care of quickly. Gramps and I got used to knowing where this was in winter, and how to keep the pipes from freezing, but you probably don’t want to get involved with it. Let’s get a plumber out here and have it moved.”
She laughed slightly hysterically. “Get a plumber out here. And how do I do that?” She thought of the phone call she’d made earlier, and how she’d reeled at the estimate just to come to Sunshine. Dollar signs paraded through her mind, all of them leaving her nearly depleted bank account and headed into a plumber’s wallet.
“You call someone.”
“I did,” she said. “He said it would cost at least $500. That was just to come out and shut off the water and fix the pipe. I can’t even imagine how much he’d charge to move that inside.” She motioned toward the red-handled valve.
He shook his head. “You have to know who to ask. There’s a fellow from church who’s a plumber and he’s always worked on the barter system with Gramps. He’s been trying to get Gramps to take care of getting the access to the water moved into the house for a long time. I’ll tell you what, let me give him a call and see what we can work out.”
Her stomach sank. She’d wanted to do this herself, but she couldn’t.
“What do you mean by barter?” she asked. “Oh, I know what that means, but what do I give him in exchange?”
Hayden smiled. He really did have the best smile, she thought. It quirked up on one side, and his entire face lit up. “His name is Brad Simons, and he loves fishing, but he’s got two sons, and one’s in a wheelchair, so he doesn’t get to do it much.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Usually I do the plumbing—and I have to apologize for the mess that you saw down there. That was my doing, and in case you couldn’t tell, I had no idea what I was up to. I would just replace stuff until whatever was leaking stopped. One time I used a whole roll of aluminum tape, which works better than duct tape, by the way, so you might notice we buy the economy pack, to hold the kitchen faucet in place until Brad could get out here.”
She laughed. “So you understand my plumbing skills—or lack of them.”
“I do. In the past, we’ve worked it out so that Brad takes care of our plumbing emergencies and we get his family out here, all of them, and put them in the boat and take them out onto the lake.”
“Really?”
“Really. Of course we’d do it for nothing, but Brad’s got his pride. We do the whole day up right. We have a picnic on the boat, too, and then in the evening, we have a bonfire and roast hot dogs and make s’mores. It’s a nice break for them.”
“Do you suppose he would do this for me, too?” She was almost afraid to hear the answer.
“Sure he would. Let me give him a call right now. Here.”
The dog was waiting patiently, the ball in front of his paws. Hayden picked up the ball and handed it to Livvy. It was slimy from being carried in his mouth, and she tried to suppress the urge to shudder. This was one of the things about dogs she’d never been comfortable with—the way they slobbered all over their toys.
“Gross,” she said, wiping one hand on her jeans and holding the wet tennis ball gingerly with two fingers of her other hand.
He grinned. “Keep him busy while I run inside and give Brad a call.”
He vanished inside the house as Leonard stood up, wagging his tail madly, his eyes locked on the ball in Livvy’s hand.
“Okay, we’ll do this until he comes back, but you really should get some hobbies,” she said to the dog, and she threw the ball for him.
He rac
ed after the ball, and loped back, carrying it in his mouth and dropped it at her feet. She tossed it again, he ran after it, and brought it back to her. Automatically she repeated the scene, and as she did, in her mind she ran through what it would be like out here, without Hayden and Gramps, without Leonard.
That day in Boston when she had brazenly given her notice to Mr. Evans, the thought of being alone, responsible for a home that belonged to her, with no one around her for miles, had seemed like a dream come true.
Maybe she had taken on more than she’d bargained for, if the situation in the basement was any indication. Her beloved book, The Complete Guide to Home Construction and Repair, had misled her into thinking something as basic as fixing a leaky pipe would be easy.
Leonard flopped beside her, exhausted at last. His tongue hung out the side of his mouth, and he looked blissfully spent.
“What a life you have,” she said to him. “As long as someone throws the ball and puts down dog chow for you, all is good. Every day is filled with nothing more important than sleeping in the sun and barking at squirrels. You don’t even need to worry about your shoes or your hair or what you’re going to wear.”
His tail thumped and he sighed and shut his eyes.
She heard the screen door slam and turned to see Hayden coming back out. He gave her a thumbs up.
“Brad will be here in about twenty minutes. He said he could fix the pipe this afternoon, and on Tuesday he’ll come out and move the shut-off valve inside. And it will only cost you an afternoon on the lake and a weenie roast, due and payable next Saturday, while he and the missus go to a wedding. I said we’d watch the boys. By the way, it’s the Fourth of July, so we’ll do fireworks out here, too.”
“Fireworks? That’s good, but it just doesn’t seem quite enough,” she objected, feeling relieved and at the same time vaguely guilty. “Is that a fair trade?”
“It is for Brad. He’s got a lot on his plate. Speaking of plates, Gramps got some sandwiches ready for us.”
They had just finished a meal of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and root beer when a horn honked in the yard.
“Brad’s here,” Hayden said, draining the last of his drink.
She thought she’d never seen anyone as welcome as Brad with his plumbing tools. In his work shirt and heavy boots, he looked like an angel.
He followed her into the basement and then indicated he wanted her to stay. “Stick around,” he said to Livvy. “I’ll show you what you need to do.”
As he fixed the pipe, he told her what he was doing every step of the way in a running commentary. “Don’t blame yourself,” he said as he tightened it into place. “It’s just a lot easier if someone shows you how to do it. It’s not brain surgery but it does have its quirks. There. See how it’s done?”
She nodded, but made a mental note to proceed more carefully in the future when it came to plumbing.
“Now,” he said, putting the wrench back into his toolbox, “I’ll turn the water back on. Come with me, and I’ll show you that, too.”
Outside, he gave the red valve a twist, saying, “And the next time anyone touches this dumb thing will be the last time. You’ll never have to worry about finding it out here again.”
“How can I ever thank you?”
“It’s all in a day’s work. I’ll go check on the pipe and say howdy-do to Charlie and then I’d better get back to town. See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? I thought you were coming on Tuesday.”
“Won’t you be in church? It’s Sunday, you know.”
“Oh. Of course.”
As he went into the kitchen to visit with Gramps and Hayden, she thought about it.
Church.
She wasn’t a churchgoer, not recently. How long had it been since she’d been to a service? She did some quick math and was aghast to realize it had been about ten years. Almost a decade.
It wasn’t as if she didn’t believe in God. Of course she did. Everyone did. How many times had she looked at a sunset, or a newborn baby, or a kitten, and acknowledged the good work of the Lord’s hands?
But it was also true that the only times she prayed anymore were when she was petitioning God to let her car start or when her wallet wasn’t where it should be. Certainly there was more to being a Christian than that.
She looked at the majestic panorama of the Badlands surrounding her. This had to be more than a geological accident. Someone had to have created this interplay of shape and light and color.
God? Could it be?
A hunger gnawed at her heart. She needed to know more.
The voices of the three men in the kitchen floated out to her. They all went to church. Maybe she should give it a try. What could it hurt? Nothing. And what could it help? Everything.
Her life was fine the way it was, but maybe it could be better. She’d ask Hayden about it.
Leonard, who had gotten up and come to lie across her feet, moved, nudging the ball that never left his side.
“What do you think, dog?” she asked, leaning over to let her fingers drift over his silky ears. “Dogs don’t go to church.”
“He would if he could,” Hayden said behind her, and she jumped. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Brad’s leaving now, and I gather the plumbing emergency is taken care of. You up to digging through some boxes in the café? I suspect most of it can go to the dump, but let’s make sure.”
They headed toward the café, the dog padding behind them.
“You all go to the same church?” she asked.
“Sure do. We’re all members of Trinity. My great-grandfather was one of the founders of it. Would you like to come to a service?”
“You know, I think I would.”
“What church did you go to in Boston?”
Something rustled in the underbrush, and Leonard took off, barking at it.
“I didn’t go to church there,” she confessed. “I don’t know why. Partially I was just lazy, but it’s also a bit overwhelming trying to decide which one to go to.”
“Obsidian doesn’t offer many choices,” he said. “There’s Trinity. Or there’s Trinity. Yup, that’s it.”
She laughed. “Then Trinity it is.”
He tilted his head and smiled, his pale blue eyes glinting in the sun. “Would you like to go to church with us? We’d be delighted to have you there.”
“I think I would,” she said, and as soon as the words were out, she felt a peace. “Yes, I would.”
“Great! I’ll talk to Gramps. He’ll think it’s a wonderful idea.”
“Speaking of wonderful ideas,” she said as they reached the door of the café, “let’s start digging.”
They worked together, going through the boxes that had been stored in the dusty café. As Hayden had predicted, most of the boxes were filled with things not worth keeping. Three of the cardboard cartons contained draperies that had been the home of small creatures, probably mice. Two more boxes held tablecloths, now stained with age, and one box was filled with packets of paper napkins. These were easily set aside to be discarded.
Hayden moved another stack of cartons to the middle of the room. “We’ll tackle these next week. I don’t know about you, but I’m done.”
“Me, too.” She wanted nothing more than to clean herself up and sprawl on the couch of the little guesthouse in Obsidian and let the air-conditioning cool her off.
“If you’d like,” he said to her, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow for church.”
“I’d like that.” Just knowing that she wouldn’t have to walk in alone made it easier to decide to go.
“Great. Church starts at nine thirty, so I’ll see you around nine fifteen.”
As she drove back to Obsidian in Gramps’s SUV, which was a sight better than Trevor’s truck, she looked at her surroundings, once again astonished at the panorama laid out around her. With something as spectacular as the Badlands as a backdrop to her new life, it was only fitting that she should offer praise to their Maker.
Church. She was going to church.
Hayden was used to the church, but now he was seeing it as he imagined Livvy would. How different it must be from the grand cathedrals and massive churches she probably saw on every street in Boston.
Trinity was a small white-framed structure, basically unchanged in its 125 years of existence. The interior showed the importance those first church members had assigned their place of worship. A large mural of the Nativity adorned the wall behind the altar, and its hues were still as bright as they must have been when they were first painted. Stained-glass windows, handmade by an early settler to the town, shed multicolored beams on the tiny congregation.
Hayden could feel Livvy’s uneasiness as they slid into the pews. He was so accustomed to coming to church every Sunday that it had never occurred to him how awkward it might be for someone not used to attending services to visit for the first time.
He smiled encouragingly and whispered, “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Thanks,” she answered in a low voice. “I’m glad I’m here, too.”
The hymns and Scripture readings were marked on the board at the front of the church, but there was also a bulletin. He noticed that she studied it closely, especially the announcements of the upcoming Men’s League barbecue, and the Women’s League garage sale.
He hadn’t been involved much recently in the Men’s League, and he reminded himself to make it to the next meeting. Maybe Gramps would like to be a part of it, especially since he would be moving into town.
The minister, Reverend Carlisle, stood in front of the congregation and motioned for them to rise for the first hymn. It was one of Hayden’s favorites, “Faith of Our Fathers.”
He loved the old hymns. Singing the same melodies and the same words as his forebears had done gave him a sense of connection with the past that he treasured. He heard Gramps’s wavering tenor next to him, and he put his hand on the old man’s shoulder, and was rewarded with a smile.
He could sing the hymn from memory, but he held the hymnal with his free hand so that Livvy could see it, too. She followed along well, her clear soprano melding with the others in the congregation, and he could feel her relax.