Back to Jerusalem

by Jan Surasky

  They managed to snag a corner table in the new restaurant, an upscale Italian affair with a menu that sported not only fresh pasta but a veal dish that nearly melted in your mouth. It was of course the talk of the office building.

  “Jenny, you look like a fish out of water. Was the trial tough?”

  “Not really. It turned out well. Sammy’s free and he and Annie can have their baby in peace. They are so excited.”

  “I’m glad. And Jake. How does he feel about it?”

  “He decided to stay. He’s setting up a solo practice in Syracuse and a storefront in Penn Yan for pro bono. At least that was the word when I left.”

  “Nice. But, that means he won’t grace the streets of Manhattan any longer. And, just when you found him.”

  “Well, he’s fulfilling his dreams. I’m not sure about me.”

  “If you’re going to pull a mid-life crisis on me, Jen, let me know in advance.”

  “Will do. It’s just that Josh will graduate this year and I feel like an empty nester already.”

  “Well, I have a proposition for you that would fill a lot of your time. Jeff and I are going to start a branch of our firm in Iowa and we’d like you to run the New York office while we set it up.”

  “I’ll think about it, Cathy. I’m pleased that you both trust me enough to ask, but I probably have to make some decisions on what I want to do with my life now that I’m about to be solo.”

  “Plenty of time to think it over, Jen. It won’t happen for at least six months. Say, they aren’t fooling about this veal. It’s almost like a trip to Italy on your lunch hour.”

  As they returned to work, the rains of an early spring fell from the sky, turning all of New York and its skyscrapers into a misty grey pall. “Let’s run, Jen. I don’t want to get this expensive new cashmere wet and stretched out of shape.”

  Jenny tried to keep up with Cathy but Cathy was determined to save the latest addition to her expensive wardrobe which she was certain helped her clinch all those high-powered deals brokered in expensive restaurants. Cathy reached the dry, well-lit lobby before her.

  “See you later, Jenny. Jeff and I can handle tonight with Mr. Brezewski so you can take the night off. You deserve it. You’ve been working like five people since you got back.”

  “Thanks, Cath. I appreciate it. I don’t think Josh has seen me for two weeks.”

  As Jenny settled at her desk the phone rang. Insistently. Jenny was surprised because Ginny kept a good check on her phone calls. She was surprised that Ginny had put this one through without checking with her first.

  She picked up the phone a bit gingerly, succumbing to an eerie fear as she put it to her ear.

  “Jennifer, are you sitting down?”

  “Yes, Mother, I am.”

  “Your Aunt Gert passed away this morning. I thought you should know right away.”

  “Yes, Mother. How did it happen?”

  “She was unconscious when we got there this morning. We called for the ambulance but it was too late. She died at the hospital. Doc Masterson said her heart just gave out.”

  “I’ll be right home, Mother. As soon as I can get Josh.”

  “You better stay at Aunt Gert’s. Your father and I can’t handle company anymore.”

  Jenny overlooked the slight as she hung up the phone. As it nestled into its cradle, she put her head down on her desk and sobbed and sobbed. Aunt Gert was with Rafe, a comforting thought, but she would no longer be here with Jenny. As she lifted her head and stared at the grey fog enveloping the building across the avenue she realized how much she would miss her.

  She picked up the phone and called Josh. They would need to be on their way as soon as she could get a cab to her apartment.

  Chapter Sixty

  Aunt Gert’s funeral had been confined to family and close friends. She had been laid to rest next to Rafe in a spot reserved for her long ago by the Tewksbury family at her request.

  Mother was inconsolable since she had been certain that as the eldest she would go first. Father did his best to provide some comfort.

  Jenny’s tears had mingled with the mist of the rain at the outdoor service, but she had kept a close watch on Josh. She knew how dear he had been to Aunt Gert, and he had basked in the attention she had provided him.

  The reading of the will took place on a dreary Wednesday afternoon in the ramshackle law offices of Andrew MacElbee in Dundee. He had been a close friend of Gert’s since they had graduated together from Penn Yan Dundee Central.

  There were no surprises except one. All of Gert’s possessions and what little money she had saved had gone to Mother. A few special trinkets Josh had coveted had gone to him. But, what shocked everyone was that Aunt Gert had left the farmhouse to Jenny.

  “You mind you take care of it, Jenny. Aunt Gert spent a lifetime tending it.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  Jenny pondered the gift. What possessed Aunt Gert to make her the caretaker of an old farmhouse? She would sort it out on the way to the airport. Josh must return to school as soon as possible. She would stay and tend to a few loose ends and tidy up the farmhouse for the next few weeks.

  The ride to the airport was treacherous and gloomy. Heavy rains beat down upon the roof of the BMW and the roads were slick.

  “What will happen to Shakespeare?”

  “He’ll be okay, Josh. Sparky and Cliff will care for him, and all of Anne’s and Sarah’s children will be playing with him. He’ll have plenty of farm dogs to run with.”

  “But, he’ll miss Aunt Gert.”

  “Yes, he will, Josh. But, maybe he’ll remember all the good times they had together. They were content to just be with each other. And, Aunt Gert always remembered to let Shakespeare play.”

  “Mom, will Gus Marshall meet me at the airport?”

  “Yes, he will, Josh. But, Petey’s in school so Gus said he would take you right there as soon as you arrive. I’ll be along in a few weeks.”

  “I know you will, Mom. I promise I won’t wreck the apartment.”

  “I know you won’t Josh. You know I’ll be calling every day to check. As long as that baseball Chip gave you doesn’t go through the window and land on somebody’s head below we’ll be alright. Rinaldo will look in on you also.”

  “Okay, Mom. But, Petey and I will be studying most of the time. We’ve got to hit the books. Petey’s aiming for SUNY at Stony Brook. I doubt we’ll have time to even shoot a few hoops.”

  “Well, there’ll be time for some fun. Dee’s got Rosa looking in on you. She’s getting married in a few months, but she’s taking time off from her wedding shopping to do the job.”

  “Well, we might need to take a break there.”

  “Maybe not too much of one. Rosa’s matured. She signed up for classes at community college in Brooklyn and has taken secretarial and business. Dee’s very proud of her.

  “We’re here. Let’s unload your bags.”

  As Jenny helped Josh with the details of boarding, she felt a rush of maternal pride. He had overcome so much of the unfair suffering he had thrown at him just for being born. To her, the gangling youth struggling with his duffel and his jacket was still the perfect infant she had held at birth. She held him as she said goodbye.

  “Call me if you need me.”

  “Will do.”

  As he waved from the plane, she felt the loss she knew she would feel as he embarked on a life that would not include her. A life full of the hope of youth. She silently wished it to be filled with the wonders of this Earth. But, she knew it was up to him now.

  Jenny sighed as she left the airport. She must drive to Aunt Gert’s to sort out her possessions. As she reached the farmhouse she climbed the stairs of the porch and nestled in the slats of the old swing now covered only with a coat of chipping paint. She swung softly, back and forth, mindless of the creak of the unoiled chain, as a strange numbness enveloped her. She barely heard the squealing of tires on an old farm truck as it braked or the footsteps that
brought Jake to her side.

  As they sat, Jake wrapped his arms around her as he once did so long ago to keep her from the chill of a late spring evening. She felt the strength of his arms he had once used to help till the fields of the Martin farm and for a moment her burdens seemed to vanish. They both looked up at the dark, clear sky and Jenny marveled at the moon that shared space in the skies with a host of bright, twinkling stars in the vastness of the universe.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  The early afternoon sun was bright as Jenny set up her paints on the long, back veranda of Aunt Gert’s farmhouse. She reached for her palette and began to mix the vibrant red she favored, the color of the tiny blossoms that bloomed for only two weeks on the miniature plants she had discovered beneath the stand of sycamores behind the barn.

  She had returned to Jerusalem for good just one week after the will reading. Since that time, Jake had been her constant companion. They had strolled the shores and admired the clear, blue waters of Keuka Lake, they had eaten ice cream under the pavilion at the old picnic tables on a grassy spot behind the Seneca Dairy, they had helped the Martins pack up their vegetables for the Saturday market, and they had worked long hours in Jake’s pro bono storefront in Penn Yan.

  But, it was the land that had drawn them back. Flatlands filled with wildflower meadows, freshly tilled fields in spring, the scent of newly baled hay in autumn, and untamed patches that turned green every spring and nurtured the spirit. And, behind all this, the mist of a horizon that stretched forever.

  There had been no formal courtship nor had there been a formal proposal. Their time together was as natural as the call of the whippoorwill they had used to summon each other on a cool spring evening after their chores were finished in their youth. They would be married in the early summer after the rains of spring subsided and the heavy work of planting was over.

  “Hey, Jen. How’s the canvas coming?”

  “Hey, Sparks. I didn’t hear your chariot pull up.”

  “Of course not. Sammy’s been tuning it up. It’s as quiet as a Rolls.”

  “How’s Cliff?”

  “Swamped. That’s what I came to ask you. Would you take over the bake sale while I’m gone? I’ll be back in a week.”

  “Will do.”

  “I think the patent will be wrapped up by Thursday. I’ll spend the rest of the time with Mom and Dad.”

  “Give them my love.”

  “I will, Jen. They miss you and Josh.”

  “We miss them, too, Sparks. Josh expects to crash in on them for a weekend as soon as he’s settled.”

  “I’ll be off, then. Tell Jake I left the key to the plow with Cliff. He’s welcome to add it to his collection. I have to delay spring planting till I get back.”

  “Thanks, Sparks.”

  Jenny listened as Sparky’s latest Lexus squealed off, the only luxury she allowed herself in her quest to live off the land. Jenny smiled as she realized the contradiction.

  She picked up her paint brush and began to mix the colors of the wildflowers she saw before her, the pale pink of the phlox, the brilliant blue of the lupines, the deep, golden yellow of the daisies, the soft oranges and reds of the brown-spotted meadow lilies, and thought of Josh. A newly settled freshman in the school of journalism at Columbia, he would follow the promise he had made her at thirteen. 'I'm going to be a TV reporter so you will always be able to see me.’

  Jenny smiled as she thought of the earnestness of his youth. He had shared that trait with Jake and the two had bonded the moment they met. Jake took time off from his law practice to shoot hoops, toss a football, and teach Josh, along with Sarah’s and Annie’s broods, the benefits of wading in streams and skipping stones along the shoreline of the crooked lake.

  As she mused, she heard the sound of little voices nearing the house, drifting in on the early afternoon spring breezes. She looked up to see Sarah with her latest addition, a three-month-old named Jacob, cradled in her arms, and four other little ones tagging behind. Their dress was modest and drab, but their obvious enthusiasm was not.

  “Where’s Uncle Jake?”

  “He’s out in the field getting ready for spring planting, Rebecca. How are your studies going?”

  “Ma says we can take a break. We baked seven pies for the bake sale.”

  “That sounds like a lot.”

  “Where’s Josh?”

  “He’s in New York. He’ll be back to see us in the summer.”

  “Where’s Shakespeare?”

  “He’s in the front. The barn cats chased him out of the hayloft. He could probably use some sympathy.”

  “Jesse will be along in a while to help Jake, Jenny.”

  “Thanks, Sarah. If you don’t mind, you can just leave those pies in the kitchen. They smell fresh baked.”

  “They are. We picked the berries this morning.”

  As they left, she picked a canvas and placed it on the easel. She looked at the vista that stretched before her. The meadow filled with wildflowers, their pinks and purples, deep golds and oranges, swaying gently in the breezes of soft, spring winds, the fields newly tilled and ready to be sown with the seed of feed corn and beans and oats, stretching toward the mysterious mists and haze of an endless horizon. She would paint it as she saw it, no need to stylize it, its purity the essence of an artistic eye. She began to daub the canvas.

  Contrary to popular belief, you can go home again, thought Jenny. No matter where you wander, no matter for how long or how far away, home is forever embedded in your spirit, and in your soul. But, there is a price to pay. Other worlds will leave their mark. No longer could she accept the strict tenets of a people unable to accept a single difference in the human condition when she had lived among eight million people who rubbed shoulders every day with as many cultural differences as existed on Earth.

  She rose as the afternoon sun lowered in the sky, glancing at the sign she had pulled from the attic and Jake had nailed over the old, oversized barn doors, its red paint glistening as the sun’s rays played about its timbers. “Windborne Acres.” The sign Aunt Gert and Rafe had painted “one silly evening.”

  She packed up her paints and headed for the kitchen. She would lay out a light supper. Jake had eaten his heavy meal at noon.

  She pulled from the fridge some cold, sliced chicken, the cheeses she had gotten at Laufler’s dairy down the road, the sourdough bread she had pulled from the oven this morning, a bowl of slaw, Jake’s favorite, made from an old Martin family recipe, and added some devilled eggs she had made the evening before.

  She raced up the stairs. She would fetch Jake herself. Jesse would be gone and he would be forgetting the time.

  She showered and scrubbed, removing the day’s paint with difficulty. She slipped into a light cotton dress, its shades of mauve flattering her long, chestnut hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. She would run across the meadow barefoot as she had done so often in childhood.

  As Jake saw her, he grinned. He jumped from the tractor, removed his boots and slung them over his shoulder, his gentle laughter mingling with the sounds of the crickets in the still of the evening.

  As they headed for the farmhouse, its clapboards still sorely in need of paint, the sun setting above them, their toes digging into the rich, dark loam of newly turned earth, they were just two people on their way to an early supper.