Back to Jerusalem

by Jan Surasky

  “Bud never treats him well, Jenny. I’m surprised he’s been here this long.”

  “He’s closest to his family here. He fixes cars after hours and makes a little money on the side. That way he can take care of Etta and her brood. Her husband lost a leg in a threshing accident last year.”

  “Just the same, he almost lost him to Mack Jones in Elmira. Bud should be more careful.”

  “Try and tell him that. He keeps Sammy just above pay scale so he doesn’t lose him.”

  As Jenny turned her attention to the mounting pile of paperwork, Sammy stopped by.

  “How’s it going, Jenny?”

  “Good, Sammy. And, you?”

  “Can’t complain. Put together an old Chevy for the folks and an old Ford pickup for Etta and Bert. He gets his new leg next week at Clifton Springs. This way I fixed it so he can drive it, too.”

  “Sounds great, Sammy. They’re lucky to have you. Going to the American Legion dance next week? They’re going to have a fiddler, a caller, and a barbecue.”

  “Aw, I don’t have anyone to take, Jenny.”

  “Why don’t you take Janey and Fran? They’re old enough to know the reels and they’ll love the fiddling.”

  “I guess. Ma and Pa would like that.”

  “Okay. See you there. Now, we’d both better get back to work before we get fired.”

  “Thanks, Jenny. I don’t know what I would do without you to talk to. Those guys in the back get pretty rough sometimes.”

  “Hang in there, Sammy. Someday you’ll make assistant manager.”

  “Aw, I’m happy bein’ just a regular old grease monkey.”

  As Sammy headed for the back bays, Sarah came in the front door, carrying Josh in her arms. “Hey, Jenny. We came to town for ice cream.”

  “Sounds good. Why don’t I hold Josh while you walk over to the dairy?”

  “Thanks, Jenny. I brought Anne. She’s out by the stroller. You want us to get you a cone?”

  “No, thanks, Sarah. Gotta fit into my bikini in six weeks.”

  As Jenny cradled Josh, all the women in the office migrated as one to her desk, cooing and chucking him under the chin, losing all command of the English language. Alice Masters waved an old beaten-up Teddy Bear she had won at a Kiwanis bingo years ago she kept as a work mascot.

  “Hey, Jen, can’t you get him outta here? He’s disrupting business.”

  “Gee, Bud, I’m just keeping him till the girls get back with their ice cream. I thought I would show him around. After all, he’s going to take over the business someday.”

  “Okay, as long as everybody gets back to work. Dad is furious.”

  The women returned to their desks, but Josh kept cooing and gurgling, keeping everyone silently amused as they bent over their paperwork. Jenny kept him distracted with a set of plastic keys and the old Kiwanis teddy bear.

  “Hey, Jen, are those Jake’s little sisters?”

  “Yes, Sammy.”

  “They’ve grown. The last time I saw them up close they were littler tads in their Pa’s fields.”

  “Sarah’s married. She’s married to Jesse Watson. You know him?”

  “I’ve seen him. Those Mennonites bein’ home-schooled, I never saw him except at Mr. Adam’s dry goods once in a while.

  “Is Anne married?”

  “No, Sammy. She’s barely seventeen. But, I didn’t know you were interested in girls. All I see you do is work.”

  “I’m not, Jenny. But, Anne is different. Her face has a shine to it. She’s pretty.”

  “Well, we’d better get back to work before we both get fired. Josh has already caused enough of an uproar.”

  “I don’t know why. He’s the best thing we got to look at around here.”

  “Thanks, Sammy. I miss him during the day. But, I know he gets good care. He loves Sarah.”

  As Jenny waited for the girls to return, she bounced Josh on her lap while she put her papers in neat piles upon her desk, jiggling her keys to keep him amused at the same time. As Sarah and Anne pushed open the great glass doors that announced the Anderson Agency, the gale of spring air they brought with them sent her neatly stacked papers across the yellow squares of the cheaply tiled floor. Josh burst out into gales of laughter.

  As Sarah took Josh in her arms, the whiff of spring air wafted along Jenny’s nostrils, bringing memories of riding the tractor with Father at planting time, the sun so strong on their backs, and the hours after spent up in the hayloft, the sun giving way to the quiet of the evening, the sounds of the whippoorwill, and the silver shine of the moon on the newly tilled fields.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Penn Yan Country Club was decorated with the flowers of summer, the soft pinks and the purples giving way to the simplicity of their surroundings. Mary Lou Anderson was everywhere, rearranging the flowers, directing the staff to replenish the hors d’oeuvres, and shaking the hands of just about everybody.

  Throwing lavish parties at the country club to increase contacts for the agency was nothing new to the grande dame of the Anderson dealership. She was holding court in a beautifully tailored off-the-shoulder cerise silk gown which she had flown to New York to get designed and fitted all before the previous Thanksgiving holidays.

  The governor of the state was due to arrive at any moment and Mary Lou was making sure that every petal of every flower and every cracker that held an hors d’oeuvre was worthy of his presence. The Andersons had been heavy contributors to his recently successful campaign.

  Jenny took refuge in the pool.

  “Hey, Jen, why the long face?”

  “Hey, Whit.”

  “Where’s the big guy?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since we arrived an hour early.”

  “Oh, he’s probably helping his dad make sure everything’s in place for the big arrival. And, how’s the little big guy?”

  “Oh, he’s fine, Whit. Growing like a weed. I can’t keep up with him.”

  “I gotta get over and see him. Someone’s gotta teach him how to sneak out on his parents. But, honestly, Jen, I’ve been so busy setting up our new office in Hawaii that I don’t even remember my own name. If I didn’t shave in the morning, I wouldn’t know who I am.”

  “That’s great, Whit. You’re soon going to be the largest liquor distributor on the globe.”

  “Not yet. I haven’t conquered Europe or Asia. But, distributing the stuff isn’t nearly as much fun as drinking it. What do you say we ditch this place for the cocktail lounge?”

  “Great idea. I’ll see you in a few.”

  As she switched her lime green bikini for an aqua ankle length silk and chiffon she had eyed at a Syracuse mall, she thought of how Whit had still kept his former athletic figure. Maybe Sparks would be interested.

  They strolled the hall, the most austere Jenny had ever seen, perked up only by one enormous floral ceramic vase filled with a few large, dusty, silk tiger lilies.

  “Have you got a girl, Whit?”

  “Too busy, Jen. Say, how well do you know Katt Johnson?”

  “Not well. Roomed with her a few times at Syracuse.”

  “I hear she’s in town to get over a divorce with a visit to her cousin. Do you think you could arrange an introduction?”

  “Do my best. Now, we better get set to meet the important figures of our state. It looks like Mary Lou has them lined up already.”

  Governor Cuomo shook her hand with the firm, hard grip of a seasoned politician. As she left the receiving line, Bud’s voice came loud and clear across the atrium, a tipsy and slightly raucous Katt Johnson on his arm.

  “Hey, Whit, when did you blow into town?”

  “Yesterday, old man, but no time to call. I had to unearth this tux so I could attend your shindig today.”

  “Well, Whit, I guess you won’t have to wait long for an intro to Katt Johnson.”

  “Hey, Whit, glad to see ya, buddy. This here is Katt Johnson from Long Island. You might remember her from prom nig
ht at the Castle way back when.”

  “Glad to re-meet you, Katt. What brings you to our small town from all the action on the Island?”

  “A messy divorce and a yen to live it up with the country folk. How goes it with you?”

  “Not bad. Global travel seems to agree with me.

  “Say, Katt, would you like to dance?”

  As she nodded her head to the detriment of her balance, the band struck up a hot mambo.

  “Say, Bud, do you think we could do that?”

  “Aw, Jen, you know how I hate that stuff. Why don’t you get a drink and mingle. I gotta get going. Dad will have a fit if I don’t pick up some new sales.”

  Bud walked off, taking Mandy the new temp along with him to keep track of new sales leads. Jenny headed for the lobby phone.

  “Hi, Sarah, how’s Josh?”

  “He’s fair, Jenny. He’s crying and I’m quieting him down. He keeps rubbing his ear.”

  “He just had his shots. Is his medicine nearby?”

  “Yes, but he’s not due for a dose for another two hours.”

  “I’ll be over to check if you need me.”

  “Thanks, Jenny.”

  As Jenny returned to the festivities, she spied Whit slugging a Jack Daniels with no mixer but a lemon.

  “Where’s Katt?”

  “Powdering her nose. She’s taking a long time.”

  “Cheer up, Whit. We’ll get her over for a barbecue. With your charm and my chili sauce she’ll be your conquest in no time.”

  “She seems to have her eye on a lot of other guys.”

  “Just post-divorce syndrome. Have you seen Bud?’

  “Not for a while.”

  “Well, if he appears, would you tell him I went home to check on Josh?”

  “Gee, Jen, shame to spoil the festivities. Can I help?”

  “Thanks, Whit, but duty calls. See you later around the dinner hour.”

  As Jenny walked across the parking lot, she barely noticed the setting sun. The newly tarred surface was hot and sticky. All her thoughts were on Josh. Lucky for her confidence in Dr. Reynolds. He had pulled her along with Mother and Father through every childhood disease. He was starting on his third generation.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The patio that Bud built on the back of the old farmhouse was laid with the beautiful grey stone Jenny had found at the nearby quarry. A set of white wicker furniture fit perfectly.

  Bud was busy serving drinks and getting the old, brick barbecue started. Jenny marinated the steaks while Josh gurgled and giggled in his playpen, surrounded by plastic trucks and trains, a stuffed frog that croaked, and numerous stuffed animals which either squeaked, talked or rattled.

  Jenny looked out over the vista beyond their yard as she added the red wine, the olive oil and the onions to the soy of the marinade. The pinks, the purples, the oranges and the yellows of the wild flowers stood out among the field grasses as they stretched their way to the blue of the horizon. What a painting that would make.

  “Hey, kid, a penny for your thoughts.”

  “Hey, Whit. Just thinking what a great painting that would make out there.”

  ” Have you painted lately?”

  “No. Being a wife and a mother and a full-time office worker has done me in.”

  “You should be painting, Jenny. You were the best in the school.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that. But, I liked it.”

  “Maybe I can get Dad to commission a painting for our new headquarters. Then, you’d have to do it.”

  “Thanks, Whit. That would be nice. But, I don’t know that I’d have the time.”

  “You have to make the time, Jenny. We wouldn’t want great art to go dormant.”

  “Say, Jen, do you have dessert?” A drunken Katt poked her head through the open doorway.

  “I have a raspberry pie I just baked.”

  “How about some vanilla ice cream to go with that? Bud and I can hop down to Byrne Dairy and get some.” Without waiting for an answer, she disappeared back into the grass of the fair sized yard.

  “Hey, Whit, man. Keep an eye on the barbecue.” Bud’s voice came through the well-patched screen door as he jumped over the door into the driver’s seat of the borrowed red Corvette convertible. “We’ll be back in time to throw those steaks on.”

  As the car squealed off, Katt in the passenger seat, Whit stared after it.

  “Hey, Whit, how about giving Josh a break and getting him out of that play pen?”

  “Okay, little man, here comes Uncle Whit. Now, we’re going to have some serious play.”

  As he dangled the chain of plastic keys over the netting of the play pen, Josh began to whimper.

  “What’s the matter little man. Don’t like keys? You’d better get used to them. They get you into the executive washroom.”

  Jenny laughed. “He’s just hungry, Whit. His bottle is on the back burner. Would you mind feeding him while I finish this salad?”

  “I’d like to, but I don’t know how.”

  “It’s easy. You just sit over there, fit him into the crook of your arm, and give him the bottle.”

  “Okay, let’s go at it, tyke.”

  Jenny tested the bottle of formula on her forearm, handing the bottle to Whit. As he sat, the pleasant noise of Josh’s sucking filled the room.

  “Why, Whit, you look positively domestic. You look like you were born for it.”

  “Maybe, but I haven’t had a chance to have a proper date, much less settle down. Katt is a strange girl. Sometimes hot, sometimes cold.”

  “Just nerves and post-divorce syndrome. She’ll come around.”

  “I don’t know. The guy she dumped sounds like a fairly nice guy. Nice family, plenty of money. Just not ambitious enough for Katt. She divorced him before their first anniversary.”

  “Well, just show her the town and keep your wits about you. I think she likes it here.”

  “I’ll try. But, I’m not ready to be hurt yet.”

  “Say, they’re gone a long time. I’ll take Josh and put him in for the night. You take the steaks out to the grill.”

  As Jenny lay Josh down into his hand-made oaken crib, his wooly lamb and his ragged green frog beside him, the Corvette returned, tires squealing, and raucous laughter spilling over the blare of the high-volume radio. Jenny gently closed the window and tiptoed out.

  “Hey, Jen, where are the steaks?”

  “Out with Whit at the grill.”

  “What say we get those babies on? You get the stuff out, and Whit, old buddy, and I will grill them to perfection.” Loud, raucous laughter from Katt.

  “You were gone a long time. Was Byrne’s out of vanilla?”

  “Uh, yeah, we had to go to Seneca. It was mobbed.”

  Jenny pulled the salad from the fridge and Aunt Gert’s lyonnaise potatoes from the oven. Katt dropped into the easy chair for a snooze.

  As Jenny set the glass-topped table on the deck, the evening breeze swirled about her, making even more memorable the vision she had as the sun was setting over the horizon of a perfect painting in oils.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The fight that Jenny and Bud had after the dinner party was lengthier than any they had ever had. Jenny, generally placid, had pretty much always held her tongue.

  “What do you and your new assistant do after hours when everyone else has left? You sometimes don’t get home until eleven.”

  “Aw, c’mon, Jen, there’s a lot of paperwork to catch up on. And, sometimes I just need to unwind.”

  “Does little Miss Mandy need to unwind as well? I hear from Jackie at Pat’s that you’re both down at his bar at about ten.”

  “Oh, for gosh sakes, Jen, she’s just a kid. And, she works hard all day. I wouldn’t have had to hire another assistant if it wasn’t for you insisting you had to stay home with Josh. Dad was furious.”

  “Did you forget you have a family?”

  “How could I forget? You’re on me all the time
about it.”

  Jenny held her tongue after that. No use arguing with Bud. She couldn’t go to Mother because Mother would find fault with Jenny and take Bud’s side. Instead, she and Josh became regulars at Sparky’s back-to-the-land farm, sometimes with her alongside Sparky hoeing the soil to encourage the growth of the crops as Josh giggled and laughed outright in his playpen nearby, sometimes jangling his circle of plastic keys, sometimes pulling his shaggy bear’s string to make it talk, or pulling down on his mobile of musical instruments to listen to a favorite tune.

  They also visited Aunt Gert and Sarah and Jesse. Aunt Gert would cook dinner for them while Chaucer would lick Josh and try to get him to play. But, Josh couldn’t run yet, and Chaucer would give up with a sigh and settle down next to him, falling asleep with the exertion of it all. At Sarah’s, Jesse would sometimes let him watch while he fashioned a high-boy dresser or grandfather clock.

  At Aunt Gert’s, conversation often turned to the greenhouse and what plants they had to pinch back to help them grow. Jenny painted the new orchids on small canvases to distinguish the new species from the old.

  “Thanks, Jen, we can use these for our advertising. We can also give them out to our florists as handouts for their customers.

  “How’s Bud these days? I don’t see much of him.”

  “Neither do I Aunt Gert, He’s not home often, and when he is, he’s dead tired. Too tired to play with Josh or spend time with me.”

  “Have you talked to him about it?”

  “I’ve tried. But, it always turns into a fight. He says I’m no help to him anymore. I don’t go to prospective client parties and I don’t look as glamorous as I used to. He says I spend too much time with Josh.”

  “Have you talked to Wycliff Lyndley about it?”

  “I haven’t seen Pastor Lyndley since the wedding. Bud won’t go to church with me and I can’t get anyone to watch Josh. Mother thinks I will end up in eternal damnation.”

  “Well, make an appointment to see him. He’s very anxious to be of service. He has a Ph.D. in counseling and a very sympathetic ear. And, he’s young, too.”