Half Finished

by Lauraine Snelling

  “Good. Can I spend the night?”

  Oh Lord, what do I say? What if I start to cry and I can’t stop? I don’t want to frighten her. “Don’t you have ball practice?”

  “At three. You could take me.”

  “Let me talk to your dad. See what their plans are.” Ginny checked her watch again. Fred always wanted to eat at noon, a holdover from his growing up on the farm. The tears made her sniff.

  “We’ll make cookies after we eat?” Addy asked.

  “Yes. Take Spook with you.”

  “Maybe he wants to stay back.”

  “We’ll see.” Spook had been staying close beside her much of the time. As if he was still grieving too.

  Addy called, “Come on, Spook, let’s go to the barn.”

  Spook wagged his tail but, instead of scrambling up, looked to Ginny.

  “It’s okay, boy, you go with Addy.” He looked from Addy to Ginny. She nodded and said, “It’s okay, you go.”

  Addy slapped her thigh and pushed open the door. When she leaped off the steps, Spook leaped with her.

  In the kitchen, Ginny opened the refrigerator. Amalia had made lime Jell-O with cottage cheese. Probably to keep the cottage cheese from going bad. The idea of grilled tuna sandwiches made her nod. She pulled out the mayo, sweet hamburger pickles, and half an onion in a plastic storage bag. A couple cans of tuna from the pantry and she set to fixing it. As she drained the tuna at the sink, she paused to watch two hummingbirds at the feeder hanging from the eaves. The feeder was full; again, it had to be thanks to Amalia. Things had not suffered around here due to this faithful friend. Tears of gratitude didn’t feel a whole lot different than those of grief, but they stopped a lot sooner and didn’t leave her feeling as beat up as a washer tub at the end of the cycle.

  She chopped the onion fine and added it to the tuna and mayo, then the pickles not so fine. She found a loaf of bread in the freezer and laid the slices out on the counter. Three pairs would be enough. How would she ever learn to cook for one? She remembered their early years, the difficulty of learning to cook for two rather than for six like at her home. While her mother and father both worked, she, the eldest, and the other kids did the small farming chores, mostly 4-H animals. Now her parents were milking three cows, had three steers in the pasture, Duroc hogs for another brother’s project, and her chickens. Shame they all lived so far away now. Actually, she was the one who’d moved when she married Fred.

  She set out the griddle and turned the dial once she heard their voices.

  “Grandma, can we eat out on the deck?”

  “Of course. Come get a cloth to wash the table off.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Amalia turned the cold faucet on and dumped a load of leaf lettuce in to wash. “The radishes are wormy but they still taste good.”

  “Fred always put more seeds in where he pulled something out.”

  “That’s a fine idea. Where does he keep the seeds?”

  “In the garden shed, in a plastic tub on the counter.” Ginny buttered one side of the sandwiches and laid them on the hot griddle, then buttered the tops.

  “Ice in the glasses and lemonade and iced tea pitchers on the table,” she answered to Addy’s questioning look.

  “You want small bowls for the Jell-O?” Amalia asked as Addy carried the glasses outside.

  “Please.”

  “You all right?”

  Ginny swallowed and reached for a tissue. “The tears just sneak up on me. I could hear Fred say, ‘Any chips?’”

  “Well, are there? Or better yet, do you want chips out?”

  Sniff, blink, mop. “If we have some. Addy likes chips.”

  She stared up at the ceiling, the tears quit, and she took paper plates out of the drawer. After cutting the sandwiches in half on the diagonal like Fred had wanted, she handed a plate to each of them.

  “Are you okay, Grandma?” Addy wore her worried look.

  “I will be. We just have to get through the tears.”

  Amalia smiled at Addy. “I can promise, they don’t last forever, and don’t you worry, Addy, your grandma just needs us here to help her through the nows.”

  “That’s what Mom said, but it makes me cry too.”

  “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry, but everybody tells me this is just the way it is.” They sat down at the table, where a slight breeze tickled their hair and kissed their faces. “Addy, do you want to say grace?”

  “Dear God, bless this food and help Grandma get through the tears. Dad too, I guess all of us. Please take good care of Grandpa. We sure miss him. Amen.”

  Ginny half smiled through her tears. “Thank you, sweetie.”

  “Oh, look,” Addy said. “The prince is on the feeder.”

  “The prince?” Amalia followed the pointing finger. “Oh, you mean the male cardinal?”

  “Yeah, the prince. He’s so bright. There were a bunch of them here through the winter. Andy got some neat pictures of them against the snow.”

  “Andy is our budding photographer in the family,” Ginny explained.

  “Takes after you?”

  “I guess, but Fred was no slouch either. He encouraged Andy by giving him a good camera last Christmas. He and Andy were taking pictures at the basketball games. Got some good action shots.”

  Addy added, “He wants to take pictures for the high school paper when we get there.”

  “You’re twelve now?” Amalia asked.

  “We turn twelve in June.”

  “So, tell us about your time up at the lake.”

  Addy shrugged. “Mom and I went hiking, and Dad and Andy went fishing. We played games sometimes in the evening and all day the days it rained. No TV or Wi-Fi up there so it was pretty quiet. Oh, and no cell phone. We went to town a couple of times so Mom and Dad could get messages.” She looked to Amalia. “Andy and I have phones that can call home, but we don’t get real phones that do all the other stuff until we turn fifteen. My parents are really strict.”

  Amalia looked at Ginny and snorted. “I’d say they have their heads on straight.”

  “Miss Amalia!” Addy’s jaw dropped. “Did your kids have cell phones?”

  “When my kids were teenagers, there was no such thing as cell phones. I made sure they always had change for a phone call if they needed to call home.”

  Ginny nodded. “Makes you wonder at times how we got along without them but we did.”

  “Mom says things have changed more than we’ll ever know these days.” Addy bit into the second half of her sandwich.

  “You remember the Dick Tracy comic strips and that watch he wore? Nowadays half the country has one of those. Computer and everything right on your wrist.” Amalia shook her head.

  Addy brushed her fingers off. “Can we bake cookies now?”

  “What kind do you want to make?”

  “How about snickerdoodles and we can all roll the dough in a ball. Double batch.”

  “I’ve been hankering for molasses ginger cookies. You roll them in a ball too.”

  “Or drop by spoonfuls and mash with a glass, the bottom dipped in sugar.”

  “Can we do it the right way so they look pretty too?” Addy gathered up the plates and dishes and took them in the house.

  “She is one good kid.”

  “They both are. We’re, er…” Ginny stumbled and corrected herself. “I’m so proud…” She sniffed and rolled her eyes upward. “Please, I don’t want to cry again.” She sent Amalia an imploring look. “Will this go on forever?”

  “Feels that way right now, but no, it won’t. The crying bouts will get farther apart, but still, there will be times you get blindsided and they strike again. But they don’t last as long. Often, when you least expect it, something will trigger the waterworks again. It can be a memory, or something you see or hear or even a smell.” Amalia shrugged. She patted Ginny’s hand. “Let’s go make cookies.”

  “I need to call Sam. You go ahead.” Just then her phone sang. “Hi, I was just goi
ng to call you.” They swapped the normal beginning stuff before Ginny asked, “You all want to come here for supper? Thought we’d do hamburgers on the grill and something out of the freezer. Amalia brought up lettuce for our favorite salad so we’re a go with that. Addy and Amalia are starting the cookie baking. I think Addy went through withdrawals while you were gone.”

  Sam replied, “If you want. No ball practice this afternoon so how about six? You have hamburger buns?”

  “I have no idea if there are any in the freezer or not. You better bring some and ice cream to go with the cookies for dessert. She wants to know if she can stay here tonight.”

  “Up to you.”

  Ginny leaned against the deck railing. It would give Amalia a break but what if I go into one of the crying jags or cry or shout in a dream? I seem to be doing that. And waking up crying. I don’t want to frighten Addy. And that means I should move back into my bedroom so she and I are not sharing the downstairs bedroom. Like Amalia and I are. She heaved a heavy sigh. It was as if someone had pulled a plug in the bottom of her foot and all her energy had drained out.

  “We don’t have to do this, Mom, if it is too much for you.”

  “I know but I want you all around. I want to catch up on your lives again, I’ve missed you.” When I was coherent enough to think of someone else.

  “Up to you.”

  Ginny yawned. “I might have to lie down for a while.” A euphemism for falling down the well again.

  “Look, we’ll bring Addy home for tonight. Supper is enough for the first time.”

  “Okay. I’ll get the patties out of the freezer and one of the hot dishes. I have onion and lettuce for the burgers but no tomatoes to slice. No chips, as if we need them.”

  “Sounds good. And, Mom, actually you sound more like your old self.”

  “Good. Later. I love you, son.”

  “And I you.” His voice choked as she ended the call.

  She made her way into the kitchen. “I hate to do this but do you mind if I go lie down for a while?”

  “You okay, Grandma?” Addy turned from cracking eggs into the mixing bowl.

  “I will be.”

  “You’ve done well.” Amalia was measuring flour. “We’ll call if we need you.”

  “Addy knows where everything is. I’ll get the stuff out of the freezer. Addy, you want to come carry it up here?”

  “Sure.”

  Ginny lay down on the twin bed that had been her hiding place as well as her sleeping place. For a change, she fell asleep before a tear attack.

  When she felt someone sit on the bed beside her, she climbed toward the round bright hole at the top of the well.

  “Grandma, Miss Amalia said I should come wake you. She said you wouldn’t hit me.”

  Ginny felt a snort coming on. “She did, did she?”

  “I told her you wouldn’t hit anyone, but you did swat me once when I was being a brat.”

  “That was a lot of years ago.” Ginny heaved a sigh and sniffed. “I smell ginger cookies.”

  “Yup, we made a double batch of those too. You got out of making cookie dough walnuts.”

  “What a pity.” She forced her eyes open and reached up to pat Addy’s cheek. “What a nice way to wake up.”

  “Should I run up the stairs crying that you slapped me?”

  “Oh, the things you think of. Such a creative mind. What time is it?”

  “Three fifty. Miss Amalia said it’s too hot in the greenhouse so she’s sitting back on one of the loungers on the deck. She says to come join her, the iced tea is sweating.”

  “Well, we can’t have that.” Ginny swung her legs over the edge of the bed to a chorus of creaks and groans and not from the bed springs. “Uff da.”

  “You haven’t said that for a long time.”

  “Really.” She slid her feet into her sandals. “Uff da is a useful expression, good for any occasion. I learned it from a Norwegian woman who used to live next door to us before we moved out here.” When she stood, she paused before moving, the way her doctor advised her. Less chance of getting dizzy that way.

  “Where’s Spook?”

  “Up in Grandpa’s leather recliner.”

  “He knows better than that.”

  “I think he wants to be closer to Grandpa. The chair smells like he did.”

  “I’m surprised after they cleaned the smoke away from everything.”

  “Dad said that could have burned the house down.”

  “Don’t I know it?” Together they climbed the stairs. Spook leaped off the chair as soon as he saw her.

  “Hey, Spook, that’s all right for now.” She ruffled his ears. “I know you miss him too. I think even the chickens miss him. They give me the stink eye.”

  “Grandma, you’re making that up.” Addy headed for the kitchen. “I’ll bring cookies out.”

  Ginny pushed the screen door open on the sliding glass doors. “Now if you don’t look comfortable.”

  “I got several more rows done.” Amalia held up about eighteen inches of afghan all in varied colors. “Trying to use up all the leftovers and I have plenty.”

  “If you need more, I can send some with you.”

  “Sam called to make sure I wanted to stay longer. I assured him that was not a problem. I love being out here. And my grumpy, sociopathic house pet seems to be perfectly happy living alone.”

  “Maybe the cat doesn’t miss you, but everyone else would sure miss you at the home, since you take care of half the residents.”

  “Only a few and not permanently. Just helping some get back on their feet so they can stay there. When I’m not there to do it, senior services sends volunteers around. But senior services is overworked and underpaid, so I’m glad to help out when I can.”

  “I’m happy to hear that.” Ginny smiled. “I was afraid the other people you help would be neglected.”

  Amalia waved her crochet hook. “Oh, and your phone sang several times, but I let them all go to voice mail. One was MJ, so she called me to make sure you’re all right.”

  “Did we have a good time at the UFO the other day?”

  “We seemed to. You didn’t get a lot done on your project, but that’s okay. The evening group is on Monday night.”

  Addy set the plate of cookies on the table between them and sat cross-legged on the deck, leaning against Ginny’s lounger. Spook sniffed her face and licked one cheek before lying down with his head on her thigh. Addy leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Where’s your ball?” That made it twitch. He shook his head and got up, searched the deck, and waited at the door for her to open it. Then he cased the upstairs, pounded down the stairs, and returned with it in a couple of minutes. “Boy, you must have hidden it well. Come on.” She tossed the ball over the railing and away he went after it.

  Amalia announced, “Before I came out here, I made the salad dressing for tonight and set up the tray for the hamburgers. The scalloped potato casserole is in the oven with the timer set to start at five.”

  “You are a godsend.”

  “I can only sit still so long before I get the heebie-jeebies.”

  “Right.”

  Spook left the ball chasing and loped barking down the driveway.

  “They’re here.” Ginny tried to blow out the tears that immediately clogged her throat. “Here I go again.”

  “What triggered it?”

  “Fred isn’t here to grill the hamburgers. He never let anyone touch his grill, said they might take his job away.” She blew her nose but the sobs only worsened. “I don’t want them to see me falling apart again.” She rose from the lounger and headed for the bathroom. “I’ll be out as soon as I can.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  What did you say his name was?” Roxie checked with her GPS to see how far before the turn.

  “Richard Donald Owens, he goes by Rich.” Loren stared at her mother. “What’s with you? You meet new people all the time, why is this any different?”

  Because
this is the father of the man I believe you are going to marry in the near future. The end of that thought caught her by surprise. Interesting how her hunches went at times.

  Roxie said accusingly, “You got sunburned this morning.”

  “I know, haven’t had to use the sunscreen yet this year and didn’t even think about it. I put the aloe vera on.”

  “Your skin is so much like your father’s. He was close to a redhead; you both got the translucent skin.” She slowed down and turned to the right as per Lola’s instructions. Roxie had named the woman on the GPS so she could yell at her in a more personal way. Sometimes even Lola made mistakes. “Will there be a lot of people there?”

  Loren shrugged. “How should I know? Nate offered to pick us up but—”

  Roxie finished the sentence for her. “In case things got uncomfortable, you wanted a way out.”

  “How did you know?”

  Roxie rolled her eyes. “I’m your mother. A mother learns things by the time her youngest child is twenty-six years old.” Good thing. Well, if Mr. Richard Owens was anything like his son, this would be enjoyable.

  “You have reached your destination on the right,” said Lola mechanically.

  “Must be right on the lake.” The paved driveway wore the manicured look of a good yard service. She turned in and clicked off the GPS. “Take a nap, Lola.”

  Loren snorted. “You have a love-hate relationship with that GPS system. It’s just a device.”

  “Looks like a park.” A pond off to the right caught her attention. “Look at that gazebo. You’d think we were in New England. Quaint.”

  One more curve and the house came into view. Roxie’s years in real estate quickly estimated the value, the architect, and the taste of the man who was hosting them. Looked like he had done very well for himself or he was in debt up to his eyebrows. She had a strong feeling it was the former. She mentally clicked off the business side of her brain. She was here to enjoy herself, not to help the owner sell.

  A huge fluffy white dog came bounding across the lawn, followed by Nate. Both were wearing wide grins.

  “Welcome, glad you made it all right.” He opened Roxie’s door for her and went around to open Loren’s. “Meet Sophie. Believe it or not, she is still a puppy.” He laid his hand on her head. “Easy, girl, you needn’t scare the company.” Roxie climbed out and stood straight to look around.