With a car full of grocery sacks, she drove into the garage just before Loren.
“Yay, you’re here to help haul this all in.” She made a sweeping motion at the rear of the SUV with paper-to-paper bags.
“I hope you got something easy for supper.”
“I did, deli salads and fried chicken.” She leaned in and grabbed handles. “Those two bags are for the freezer if you want to start with that. Hurry, the ice cream is melting.”
When they’d finished the groceries, they took their filled plates out on the deck and sank into the loungers. Juno joined Loren because she knew Loren was an easy touch and she smelled fried chicken. Sir Charles sat by Roxie wearing his terribly pitiful pleading look.
“It won’t work,” Roxie told him before she picked up the thigh and, after one bite, closed her eyes in delight. “I do love fried chicken. I think I could eat chicken every day of the week.”
“We almost do.” Loren gave Juno a bitty bite of the skin. “Now that is all, so forget it.”
Roxie almost snorted. “You say that every time.”
“I know, so why should I be surprised that she never believes me?” She tipped her head back. “So, how was your day?”
“Busy, but I got the most interesting letter that I’ll read to you once I no longer have greasy fingers. I was planning on doing some cold calling but I had too many inquiring phone calls.”
“That should tell you something. Ouch, Juno, not the claws.”
“I need to keep in practice, though, if I ever need to again.”
“Nate called and asked if I wanted to go biking later. He’s going to ride over here and then we’ll head for the park, sans car.”
“Good for him. He is such a nice guy.”
“I know.” Loren studied her plate. “I think I kind of like him.”
“Good. Me too. I know he likes you; you can see it every time he looks at you.”
“Really?”
“Really, big time.”
Loren sniffed. “He said he had a crush on me in high school. I hardly even knew him. I mean, he was one of the nerds.”
“And you were pretty quiet yourself.”
“Maybe you think that might be changing now?”
Roxie nearly dropped her chicken. This was her daughter, the one who hardly said a word in public. Thank you, Lord. “I think that is entirely possible. Good for you.”
“I read an article that said change is difficult.”
“That is so true, but not impossible and hopefully part of growing up.” She handed Sir Charles the gristle off the ends of the thigh bones and reached for her iced tea. “Sometimes life forces us into change and other times we can make choices and work at it. But some people are paralyzed by fear and others refuse to do the hard work.” She shrugged. “The way of life. You ready for ice cream?”
Loren shrugged. “I thought we could wait and have dessert when we get back.”
“I think that is a fine idea. Shame we don’t have some of Addy’s cookies.”
“Mom, we can bake our own. I’ll stir up the batter, and if he gets here before they are baked, would you please finish?”
“I will and I’ll wait to read the letter until later.”
“What smells so good in here?” Nate asked when he arrived. He stared at the rack of cooling chocolate chip cookies on the counter.
Loren pulled out the last cookie sheet. “Help yourself and then let’s go before the mosquitoes are out.”
“I did bug spray. You?”
“I baked cookies.” She handed the turner to Roxie. “See you in a while.”
“The insect repellent is in the front bathroom.” Roxie grinned at Nate. “Take some if you’d like but we have ice cream to go with them for later.”
“Ah, bliss.”
Roxie waved them off, poured herself more iced tea, snagged two still-warm cookies, and headed upstairs to her office. The never-ending to-do list called her name.
For some strange reason, she could not quit smiling. Besotted might be more fitting than liked in Nate’s case.
She’d just sat down at her desk when her cell chimed. “Roxie here.”
“Sure glad to hear that.”
Rich. She’d recognize his voice anywhere. The tingle started somewhere about her knees and zipped to the top of her head. “Hey.”
“I was just thinking about you and wishing I had time to see you tonight, but since I have a meeting in a few minutes, I thought I’d ask if you’d like to go out for breakfast in the morning.”
“Yes, I would like to go out for breakfast. What time?”
“Pick you up at eight, or might seven thirty be better? You are a morning person, right?”
“I’m usually walking with MJ at seven thirty so I guess you can call me a lark.”
“That sounds better than ‘morning person.’ I love the song of the larks out in the field in the morning.”
Roxie chuckled. “Me too, though we don’t hear them often around here. So, see you at seven thirty?”
“Good. Although if I had my druthers, we would be eating together out on my deck. Mornings, the lake is beyond beautiful.”
“Rich.” Even her fingers tingled. “I—I’ll see you at seven thirty…here.”
“Sorry if I offended you.”
“Oh, believe me, you did not offend me.”
“Uh-oh, gotta go, wouldn’t you know he’d be early. Sleep well.”
Roxie stared at her phone. Had they really had this conversation? To quote her Norwegian grandmother, “Don’t that put the sizzle in the meat!”
The sun was nearing the horizon when Loren and Nate returned, both of them beaming. They came in the kitchen with her laughing at something he had said. Seeing Loren laugh out loud always made Roxie’s heart sing.
“Oh, Mom, the lake was so beautiful, just enough white caps to sparkle. We need to bike over there more often.”
Roxie watched the look on Nate’s face. Yep, besotted. “I made lemon iced tea, figured you’d be thirsty.”
Loren smiled at him over her shoulder as she opened the refrigerator door. “We have chilled bottle water if you’d rather.”
“Lemon iced tea sounds good, thanks.” At the same time he reached for a cookie, giving Roxie a questioning look. He grinned at her when she nodded and one bite equaled half a cookie.
Sir Charles greeted him with his usual exuberance and Juno paraded past with her nose in the air. Snubbed, typical cat style. At least she didn’t run and hide.
“We have rocky road, vanilla bean, or mint chip ice cream, so what is your flavor and would you like chocolate syrup drizzled on top?”
“Choices even?”
Roxie nodded. “I’m having rocky road, Loren usually has vanilla bean, so what would you like?”
“Rocky road and vanilla bean.”
“Hmm, that sounds good. Me too.”
“Drizzle?” Loren asked.
“Why not? Splurge all the way. And just-baked cookies. Dessert fit for a king.”
“You want to be king?”
“Not really but I feel like one.” Nate grinned at her. “I’ve learned that living alone makes for a simpler life, like with cooking and, well, everything. Fast food is too easy to go for.”
“Let’s go outside,” Loren said as she and Roxie finished the dishing up. Around the table with a plate of cookies in the center, they finished off the sundaes in short order.
“Pretty soon the days will start getting shorter again.” Nate looked toward the west, where oranges, reds, and yellows ribboned the sky. The clouds right above them wore shades of pink into purple. “Spectacular.” He reached for another cookie and eyed it. “These should be outlawed, they are so good.”
“We’ll send some home with you. Do you have a basket or a backpack?”
“Backpack, although I’m thinking since I’m using my bike to get to work and around town that a basket might be better. Or one on the rear.”
“I saw one with a crate on the r
ear, full of grocery bags.”
“It does keep me from buying a lot when I do go.”
“Good for you, leaving your car parked so much of the time.” Roxie gave in to another cookie. “Your mixing was delicious, Nate. Thanks for the idea. Are you coming to the UFO meeting again?”
“I’m not really working on a project, although Dad reminded me I could use his shop anytime. He’s coming right along on refinishing that boat. I think he put it off only a year or two. He plans on giving it to my brother’s kids but keeping it at his house, painting it really bright colors so it will be easy to pick out with binoculars.”
“Smart man. Oh, that reminds me, Loren, we are supposed to celebrate tonight. Marcie is pregnant. Their announcement came in the mail today.” She paused to explain to Nate who Marcie was.
“They didn’t call with news like that?”
Roxie shrugged. “Guess they do things differently nowadays.”
“Oh, yeah, reveal parties when they learn the baby’s sex. There’s parties for everything.”
“Maybe because there is so much bad news these days, we need to celebrate the good more than ever.”
“You could be right.” Loren nodded slowly. The two of them exchanged a special kind of look.
Roxie kept her joy to herself. This was looking better all the time. And going faster than she ever dreamed possible. Not that she’d spent a lot of time dreaming of her daughter’s future—or had she? A picture of Rich floated into her mind. Two men from the same family? This was absurd. Or was it?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Grandma, are you sure this is okay?”
“Yes, Addy, your leaving me is okay. I will see you later this evening.” Ginny smiled at her granddaughter and hoped she was nodding with encouragement. “You go and have a good time. Now promise me you are not going to worry about me. And I’m sure the oven will manage to not be heated today, but I promise you that if I hear it crying, I will bake something.”
Addy rolled her eyes. “Grandma.” A car honked so, with a wave, she flew out the door. Spook followed her, hoping she would throw the stick for him, but instead she shut the door in his face, with a “you be a good boy and take care of Grandma.” He went to the big window in the living room and watched the car leave then came back to flop at Ginny’s feet.
“Sorry, boy, but she can’t be here all the time.” Ginny patted him and gave him a belly rub for good measure. “There now, better?”
Now was a good time for her devotions so she rose from her recliner, picked up her Bible, devotional book, and journal, and headed out to the table on the deck with a padded chair. She stared at the floral cushions Fred had picked out, knowing her love of flowers. Heaving a sigh, she fetched a box of tissues and made sure she had her cell phone. Sure enough, her eyes blurred and the tears spilled over. Lord, will I ever get over the tears? Such little things that evoke memories and make me cry. I miss him so much. How will I ever manage without him? She let her Bible flop open and read one of the verses that she had underlined. “He will gather the lambs with his arm and carry them in his bosom.” She wiped and blew and wiped her eyes again. “Lord God, why did You take him home so soon? You know how I need him, why?” The sobs took over until she whimpered inside, “Are You mad at me? Did I do something You are punishing me for? Lord, I know I get so angry! You are the only one who could have stopped it from happening.” She slammed her fist on the arm of the chair. “Screaming does no good. Nothing does any good. Can You hear me? Are You really listening?” She leaned back in the chair and let the tears run.
Spook put both front feet on her thighs and licked the tears away, whimpering all the while.
“It’s okay, boy. They say crying is good, but will this ever stop?” Arms around his neck, she whispered in his flopped-over ear, “It’s okay. Thank you, I know you miss him too.” Spook sank back on his haunches and nuzzled her hand.
“Fred, look what you left. Remember, you refused to see the doctor! You wouldn’t go see him! How could you do this to us?” She yelled the last line and heard the chickens at the water basin flutter. Spook raised his muzzle and howled!
Ginny choked on her tears and coughed. Spook howled again. Laughter choked her this time. She leaned over and wrapped her arms around her curly-haired, oh-so-loving dog. “Thanks, Spook. Good boy.” Looking into his dark eyes, she smiled and nodded. “Good boy, you have more sense than I do. Or maybe you were telling God you’re mad too.”
Blowing her nose again, she read her devotion book for the day. More words about the Great Shepherd. She sure agreed with the author when she wrote that Jesus referring to us as sheep wasn’t a compliment. Sheep stink and get full of bugs in their wool and are afraid of everything. Sheep truly can be scared to death. She underlined this sentence: But thank you, Jesus, for loving us anyway, beyond what we can dream or imagine.
She stared at her ringing cell phone, not going to answer it, until she saw it was Amalia and punched the button.
“Hi.”
“Are you all right?”
“Why?”
“Something just told me to call and check on you. I am trying to obey those hunches.”
“Hunches, right.” Ginny used the last of the tissues to wipe her eyes and again blow her nose. “I’m getting okay again.”
“You got snagged on a memory?”
“I did. The floral cushions on the outside chairs. Fred picked them out.”
“And it made you furious.”
“How do you know?”
“Remember, I’ve been there. I was so mad at Ernie for leaving me behind to take care of the farm and everything, I almost broke a tooth my jaws clenched so hard and for so long. But—the anger is just another stage to the grieving. Yell and scream and pound it out, whatever it takes.”
“I sorta did.”
“Good, and how do you feel?”
“Better. All this time he would not go to the doctor. Said he was in good shape for his age. Kept making excuses. I know he was busy, but—”
“Hate to add fuel to this, but how long since you’ve been to the doctor?”
Ginny shrugged, trying to think back. “Several months ago I had my yearly, and other than some common things ‘for your age,’ blood pressure was up some and he sent me for a chest x-ray because of the asthma. I don’t go to the doctor any more than I have to.”
“And you think grieving doesn’t take a toll on your body, let alone your mind? I happen to know that grief scuttles all your resistance, not just to disease but to everything physiological.” Ginny was silent until Amalia asked, “You there?”
The sigh could probably be heard without the phone. “I am, and right now I don’t like you too much either.”
Amalia snorted. “Ah, well, the cost of being a friend at times. Is Addy still there?”
“I told her to go to the swimming party her friends had set up. I don’t want her giving up her summer for me. We’re planning a party for their twelfth birthday next weekend here and I’m hoping that will make coming to the farm again easier for Andy.”
“He’s still not come?” Amalia asked.
“Nope, and the longer he puts it off, the harder it will be.”
“You going to be okay there now, for today?”
“Yeah, hopefully did my crying for today. Addy will be back for bed. They are having a bonfire at the girl’s house that has the pool. Erica has already volunteered to come over, but I think it’s time I have at least a day here by myself.”
“Okay, good for you, my friend. You’re going to make it. Remember, one step forward, two back is normal.”
“You mean two forward, one back?”
“Nope, said what I meant.” She clicked off, leaving Ginny to ponder the last couple of hours. She turned to writing in her journal, another way she had found to deal with the day-to-day, pouring out her thoughts and feelings. When the sun came around to catch her chair, she got up for a glass of raspberry lemonade and moved to another chair to continue wr
iting.
When the phone rang, she checked the number but, since she did not recognize it, ignored it. Too many telemarketer calls lately. Since she and Fred had canceled the land line, they didn’t get those kind of calls for a while. Another thing that aggravated her. She used to be able to ignore irritants like that more easily. Easily irritable. Was that part of the grieving process too? She hoped so because that wasn’t normally like her.
* * *
There weren’t very many dry eyes the night MJ read the letter to the UFO group.
She cleared her throat and sniffed before continuing. “We never even dreamed of such things when we started this. All I wanted to do was get some of the stacked-up stuff in my craft room finished, to sell, or give away, or put to use. Just out of that wonderful room my husband created for me, since he did all the cabinetry work. And yes, he finished that rather major project.” She nodded to Daryl, who shrugged as usual. But he did grin when the applause broke out.
“So thank you all for coming tonight and can we have our finished project creators please stand.”
Amalia stood with the child’s sweater she had finished. “Now I need to find someone to fit it. The original recipient is about to enter high school.” Two hands went up. She nodded. “Come talk to me.”
MJ showed her crewelwork. “I thought I’d never get it done.” She smiled at the applause. “Now maybe I’ll make a real supper again rather than something quick.”
“I hope so.” Daryl grinned at those who clapped for him.
One of the men stood to show the lamp he had made out of an oak burl. The general consensus was awe. “My wife is really glad too. She’d about given up.”
The fourth one was an afghan, crocheted for an aging mother. “She didn’t have so much trouble staying warm when I started this, but finally threatened to finish it herself. She taught me all kinds of handwork, needlework, whatever you want to call it.”
“Can I be your mother?” someone called.
“Good, good. Remember we need pictures, so as soon as the photographer gets here, oh, there he is.”
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