Half Finished

by Lauraine Snelling

  Loren let the puppy sniff her hands, up her arms, and kiss her chin. She cupped her hands around the jawline and snuggled her nose into the fluff. “Oh, you are something else. What a beautiful girl.” She grinned up at Nate. “I think she likes me.”

  “How could she not?”

  Roxie nodded inside. She was right; he was hooked. Line and sinker hooked. Oh Lord, thank you for answering another of my many prayers. In church that morning, the sermon had been on gratitude. She felt it overflowing and kissing everyone around her.

  Now she was glad she had decided to wear a floral summer dress with a cropped pink crocheted jacket and floppy straw hat. Since the top was down on the convertible, she picked up her hat from the backseat, grabbed the bottle of wine in a hand-painted sleeve, and came around the car.

  “Good to see you, Nate.”

  “Don’t you look lovely?” He shook her hand and tucked it under his arm. “Dad is out on the deck. He says we should not waste such a glorious day inside.”

  “Are you expecting a lot of people?”

  “Nope, just us and Mom might be coming. Her house is right up the road.” At the look of confusion on her face, he added, “They were divorced when I was in grade school and, as soon as they weren’t living together, got along famously. Made it a lot easier on us kids.”

  “There are four of you, right?”

  “No, three. Dad oversees the home store with my cousin growing up into managership there.”

  Roxie pointed. “Oh, that crabapple tree is stunning. You have some landscaper.”

  “Actually, Dad laid out all the plans, working on a different section each year. We were a lot of the slave labor. He says gardening is his relaxation, as is the sailboat. Do you two go sailing?”

  Loren shook her head. “I’ve been out once or twice. My dad used to have a boat but with a motor, not a sail. When he died, Mom sold the boat, since none of us were really interested in it.”

  “That must have been rough.”

  As they came around the house, Lake Winnebago glittered in all its blue glory before them. Sails dotted the lake, along with sailboarders in wet suits, because the water was still icy cold from winter.

  Roxie paused and caught her breath. “What a view.”

  “I was hoping for a day like this. Hey, Dad.”

  The man on deck, wearing green shorts and a lighter green T-shirt with deck shoes, waved and came down the four stairs to the ground level. “Glad you could make it.”

  “Roxie, this is my father, Rich Owens. Dad, Roxie Gilburn and her daughter, Loren.”

  “Good to meet you. You sold a house for a friend of mine and he raved about what a professional job you did. Got him more money than he had hoped too, which made everyone happy, I’m sure.”

  He was already tanned, with crinkles at his eyes that were surely smile lines. His dark hair was long enough on top for the curls to show. But his smile was what made him such a good-looking man. Wide and genuine, with a dimple in his chin. While his handshake was firm, it was not overpowering.

  “I’m glad to meet you too. You have a fine son, and I can see where he got his good looks.”

  “Hey, a woman who speaks her mind. Come on, drinks are on the deck and umbrellas too. Loren, looks like the sun snuck up on you today. Nate said you two had a good bike ride. Roxie, are you a bike rider?”

  “I am, but my bike doesn’t get used as often as Loren’s.”

  “She’s off showing houses much of the time,” Loren explained.

  “That’s what it takes to be good at what you do.” He motioned them up the steps, making sure Sophie didn’t mow them down. A smaller dog, obviously part Lab and probably shepherd of some kind, met them with wagging tail. “This is Abner, Nate’s old dog. He had to come live here when Nate moved into that apartment in Fond du Lac. Shame so many condos and apartments, well, most rentals, have a no-pet policy. Everybody needs a dog or a cat in their life. Nate said you have both a dog and a cat.”

  Loren nodded. “The cat, Juno, rules the house, and Sir Charles, our dog, guards the house and the outside is his, or so he thinks.”

  “Sounds about right. What can I get you to drink? We have lemonade, iced tea, Arnold Palmers, and sodas in the cooler.”

  “An Arnold Palmer sounds good.” Roxie sat in the chair he pulled out for her, looking directly at the lake. “Oops.” She pointed out across the water. “A sailboarder just got dunked.” She watched, amused, as the fellow squirmed back aboard. He was amazingly nimble.

  “What would you like, Loren?” Nate asked. “Oh, we have strawberry-flavored lemonade.”

  “That sounds good.”

  “You said you like strawberries.” Nate’s hand patted her shoulder as he gave her the glass.

  Roxie made sure the chortle in her throat did not get heard.

  “Is Mom coming?” Nate asked when they all had their drinks, chips, salsa, and guacamole in the center of the table and were seated.

  “Nope, Norm had some family thing they were going to. I’m sure she would rather have come here, but you know your mother.” He spoke easily, as if they were good friends.

  “How long have you lived here?” Roxie asked Rich.

  “My father owned the property, and after Mom died, he decided he’d rather live in town, so I took this place and had this house built. And been working on it ever since. Kind of a home in progress. The view is enough to make me want to stay here.”

  “It sure would.” Roxie knew how property values had skyrocketed as people migrated out of cities and wanted lakefront property. “And your father started the furniture store business?”

  “Yes, to sell the furniture he and a friend made. I have a couple of his pieces in the house. Whoever dreamed it would turn into four stores, all of which buy pieces from local artisans whenever possible. Right now I’m looking for someone who likes to make chests. I demand good wood and good workmanship, none of the typical assembly-made stuff on the market today.”

  “Hm-mm, I know of a couple of woodworkers. I’ll see what they’re doing. One of them had a dovetailed box that was beautiful.”

  Rich sipped his drink. “I’ve been to the local woodworkers meeting, but so far, most of them are carving, not building.”

  Roxie nodded. “So many of the real craftsmen are dying off—the joiners and furniture makers—and no one is taking their places.” She glanced over to see Loren and Nate with their chairs close together so they could talk more easily. A fluffy orange cat was curled on her lap and Sophie lay between their chairs.

  “Do you like sailing?” Rich asked.

  “I guess, though I’ve not been out on the water for years. Loren and I were going to take up kayaking, but I never got around to it.”

  “Do you canoe?”

  “Same story. We have a man at the UFO group who is building a peapod and another with a kayak.”

  “UFO?” The puzzled look he gave her made her laugh.

  “I know what you’re thinking, but we are not into extraterrestrials. UFO means, in our case, unfinished objects. Or projects. We had a big group the first meeting and now we’ve started a morning group also. We meet again tomorrow night.”

  “Intriguing. I always thought that someday I’d like to follow in my father’s footsteps and build special things, perhaps sculpture or…I don’t know, just been too busy to follow the dream.”

  She smiled. “I see things sometimes in the houses I tour that I would like to incorporate into my house or yard. I love the gazebo on the edge of your pond.”

  Nate stood up. “Thanks. Dad and I built it together. Can I get you a refill?”

  Roxie held out her glass. “Yes, thank you. And that guacamole is really good. Not too spicy.”

  Nate disappeared behind her.

  “Thank you, my secret recipe.”

  “You cook too?” she asked him.

  “Sometimes,” Rich said so casually she couldn’t tell whether the answer was yes or no.

  Nate came back with t
he refilled glass and handed it to her. “Don’t let him fool you, he’s an excellent cook. Taught all of us to cook too. Said we needed to be able to take care of ourselves because we most likely would be living on our own at some time. He was right—we all did or are.”

  “And you do the displays at the library, Loren?” Rich asked.

  “I do and sometimes at the jewelry store down the street. I kind of fell into it.”

  “Really? Your degree isn’t in design?”

  “Library science, because I love books. They asked me to do a bulletin board one day and it turned out pretty good. Our woman in charge of that was moving away so I kind of stepped into her position. I learned a lot about old books and displays when I volunteered out at the YMCA camp during the summers.”

  “Old books.” Nate nodded. “We have interesting history in this region. I donated some of the things passed down in our family, and when they did that book, Dad’s family is mentioned several times. They came here in the late 1800s.”

  “From where?”

  “England via Massachusetts.”

  Roxie smiled. “My mother’s side came from Norway and my father’s from Ireland. He always said the Irish are part Norwegian, thanks to the Vikings.”

  Rich got a faraway look. “Now there were some real wood carvers and furniture makers. Dad and Mom went to Norway, and while she wanted to see the country, he wanted to spend all his time with the craftsmen. He even helped to restore a boat they were working on. Thrill of his life.”

  “What about you, Nate?” Roxie asked. “You have the desire to build and craft things too?”

  He nodded. “I think we all inherited it. I minored in design at college, majored in business. Would have been more fun to do the other way around, but I figured I have a lifetime to do both.”

  Rich looked around at them. “Anybody getting hungry?”

  “I am.”

  “Son, you are always hungry. I’ll fire up the grill and get the steaks on. I can put on chicken too if anyone would rather?”

  “He’s been marinating the steaks since yesterday.” Nate reached for another chip and a scoop of guacamole. “Don’t know how I can be hungry after all these.”

  Rich pushed back his chair and stood to turn on the grill built into a brickwork wall, with a mini refrigerator, sink, and cabinet also built in. A fire pit surrounded by built-in seating took up the next level of the deck.

  “Did he do the brickwork too?” Roxie asked Nate.

  “No, he designed the plans but hired a real bricklayer to do the work. There’s even a brick oven, which makes mighty good pizza. Takes quite a while to get it hot enough, though; you build the wood fire right inside it. Makes marvelous crunchy bread too.”

  “How does he have time for all this?”

  “I personally think he has a touch of ADHD.”

  Roxie chuckled. “I’ve wished for that at times. So many things I want to do, and I have to take time out to sleep.”

  “She’s pretty high energy too,” Loren added. “Always has been.”

  “And you would rather hide out with a book. I know.” Roxie said to Nate, “Loren’s had her nose in a book since before she learned to read. She’d bring me the book to read, then tell me the story by the pictures.”

  “Both Mom and Dad read to us. I don’t know how they did it all. But there are advantages to having your own business. Well, disadvantages too. You want some help, Dad?”

  “Someone can set the table to start.” Rich spread an assortment of sliced veggies out on the grill.

  “I can do the table.” Roxie pushed back her chair.

  “Everything is laid out on the counter.” Nate led them into the kitchen, where the marble countertop held all the dishware, some already on a tray. Loren picked up the tray and Roxie the basket with silver and napkins, already in bamboo rings.

  How could such a dream kitchen also be so friendly and inviting, kind of like the whole place? Stepping back outside, Roxie caught her breath. Such a view. What must it be like to have early-morning coffee out here in the summer, with the breeze off the lake, birds singing, trees whispering. Of course, she had all of that at home but without the lake view—and enjoyed it immensely.

  “How do you like your steaks?”

  “Mine medium rare and Loren’s medium.” How long had it been since they’d had steaks on a grill? Probably last summer out at Ginny and Fred’s. The thought stabbed her. They wouldn’t be enjoying Fred’s banter and whatever meat on the grill, not ever again.

  “What is it, Mom?”

  She sniffed. “I just thought of barbeques at Ginny’s.” This time she left off the Fred. And blinked a bunch. If it hit her this hard, what must it be doing to Ginny? Thank God Amalia was able to stay with her. She sucked in a deep breath and set the silver around. Loren had already laid out the placemats, also of bamboo.

  “You want me to put the salads out?” Nate called.

  “Yes,” Rich called back. “I’m turning the steaks over. Vegetables look all done. So, please all, be seated. I like to serve hot food hot.”

  “And cold food cold.” Nate grinned at Loren. “We have everything, please be seated. Dad, is there bread?”

  “In the oven. Basket is on the table.”

  Nate returned with the breadbasket as Rich set the platter with grilled zucchini, eggplant, red onion, and Portobello mushrooms on the table. He returned again with the steak platter, each person’s wearing a little flag, and sat down. “Shall we say grace?” He held out his hands. “Thank you, Lord God, for the food, the company, and the glorious day. In Jesus’ name, we pray, amen. Now, help yourselves. The red bowl is potato salad, yellow is cucumber salad with the recipe from an old lady at our church, and green is for green salad.” While he spoke, he lifted the covers off the bowls.

  “This is too pretty to eat.” Roxie motioned to the full table.

  “Well, start with the steaks. Your initial is on the flag.” He passed the platter to Roxie. “If it is too rare, we can flip it back on for a minute or so.”

  Roxie cut into her steak. She hardly needed the steak knife. “Ah, perfect, pink with a bit of red.” As she chewed, she closed her eyes, the better to savor the flavor. She opened her eyes above a face-stretching smile. “You really know how to do steaks.”

  Along with everything else. Roxie looked at Loren and figured their faces must have about matched.

  “I have it down to a science. The potato salad is from my German grandmother’s recipe file. I like to collect recipes but, surprisingly enough, very few from on the Internet. Food is more personal this way.”

  “I think you outdid yourself this time, Dad.”

  “Thank you, but I think it’s a combination of a lot of good things today. The weather, the company, the steaks are from that feedlot with the store and restaurant on the property south of here, so aged to perfection. That has a lot to do with it.” His smile included them all. “You ever shop at the meat market on Fillibuster?”

  “I used to once in a while. They make really good sausage.”

  “And they smoke their own hams. I think smoked pork chops are a special order.”

  The conversations seemed easy, as if they had all known each other for years instead of days and hours. After they’d worked together on the cleanup, Roxie joined Rich on a walk around the property, starting with the boathouse on the lake. Like the dock, it could be rolled up farther on the shore during the winter.

  “I think my son is besotted with your daughter—told me he had a major crush on her in high school, and seeing her again brought it all back, but not puppy love this time.”

  “I had this feeling from him right away. When he sold us the perfect rug and when he delivered the rug, it was even more obvious. He is a fine young man; you must be very proud of him.”

  “I always have been proud of my kids. I told them early on that if they wanted to do something else, other than work in our family business, that was straight on up to them.”

  �
��But all of them chose to stay with the furniture business.”

  “They did.” He nodded with a half smile. “Roxie, I am so blessed, I can never be grateful enough.”

  “Hard for any of us to be grateful enough.” She looked toward the house. “Oh look, the sun is about to go down.”

  “Good, come on.” He took her hand and half pulled her around the house. “We need to see that from the gazebo. Where did Nate and Loren go? We should have a spectacular display tonight, just enough clouds.”

  Roxie felt a jolt when he took her hand, which made her eyes grow wide. She’d not felt something like that since—since she had no idea when. What in the world was happening?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Addy and Ginny are bringing cookies tonight,” Amalia announced. “They’ve been baking up a storm.”

  “Good. I know she mentioned she would rather join the daytime group by wintertime.” MJ pawed through her bag to make sure she had everything.

  “The fact she is coming at all is due to Addy. We attended the morning group, and Ginny held it together until someone came up at the restaurant and said how sorry they were and that did her in. I know she got teary-eyed at the UFO group but…after the restaurant she swore she wasn’t going out again until, well, she didn’t know when.”

  MJ sat back in the easy chair. “So why is she coming tonight?”

  “Addy wanted to come, and you know, she’ll do anything she can for those grandkids.” Amalia leaned back in her recliner, the one that fit her body so perfectly, probably because of all the years she had sat in it. She had a magnifying light on a swivel beside it for close-up handiwork, a quilted coaster to protect the old end table and hold her tea, and her quilted bag with other handwork beside the chair.

  “So, are you coming?”

  Amalia shrugged. “Still up for a vote. Feels good to be home.”

  “Will you be going back out there?” MJ asked.