The Second Half Read online

  “Not really. I’d like to take a cruise.” He tugged Ambrose’s leash, drawing him away from a suspicious pile of what looked like horse droppings.

  “A cruise where?”

  “Up the Hudson River. Mostly people do that one during the fall color, but I’d like to see that country in the summer. You know, stop some places, kind of amble along.”

  “The cruise company will let you do that?”

  “Either that one or the ferry up from Vancouver, BC, to Alaska. We’d take our car on that one.”

  “How long would we be gone?”

  “Two weeks, would be easy to make it three. We could ferry up and drive the ALCAN back.”

  Mona shrugged. She hadn’t thought much about vacationing.

  “We will be free to see places besides Wisconsin,” Ken continued. “Lovely state, but I really want to explore places we’ve never been to; do things we’ve not done before. We’ll finally be free to do that.”

  Hyacinth plunked herself down on the trail and stared up at Mona.

  “Come on, you can make it home.” Pulled short by the leash and harness, when they stopped Ambrose yipped at her, then ambled back to check out the sniffy news by the side of the trail.

  Ken shook his head. “Come on, cat, I’ll carry you.” He handed his leash to Mona and scooped up the cat. “You need to go on a diet. Don’t you know walking is good for you?”

  “I wonder what’s wrong. She always walks the whole way.” Mona studied the feline. “She wasn’t limping or anything. She ate her supper?”

  “Yes, I guess she just got tired.”

  Together they started out again, Ambrose giving the riding cat anxious glances.

  “See, even Ambrose is worried. Hyacinth, what is your problem?” Mona heaved a sigh of relief when they reached the path up to their house. Having sick kids was bad enough, but at least they could say where they hurt. Animals usually just toughed it out until it was too late. “You think we should call the vet?”

  “What will you tell them? Our cat quit walking and wanted a ride? Think how few people we know who take both dog and cat for walks. And there have been no other symptoms.” They mounted the cedar steps to the deck and crossed to the entry to the three-season room. Once inside, they removed and hung up the harnesses, and Mona sat down with the cat on her lap to give her a good going over.

  At the Steig ring, Tristan und Isolde, she dug out her phone and set it on speaker for Ken. “We were just talking about you. So when will you be here?”

  “By Thursday, I hope. Thursday afternoon I need to meet with an officer out at the base. I might actually get stationed there.”

  “An hour away. Will you be housed on the base or…?”

  “Nothing is official yet. I’ll know more after I meet with the colonel. Can you watch the kids while I do that?”

  “We’ll work out something.” Her mind immediately took off on all the good things about having him closer than Texas. Perhaps for once the military was going to help make his life easier. Ever since Angela left him…Mona still could not comprehend how she could walk out on her kids like she had. Leaving a husband was one thing, but deserting her children? Talk about anathema. Mona and Ken had been totally shocked when Steig called them with the news. They had sensed friction between the two the last time they’d been down to visit, but not something like this.

  “Mom, don’t get your hopes up.”

  Mona blinked. “Wh-what do you mean?”

  “I mean don’t go making plans for the future until we know more.”

  Ken rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about us. Just be here for the ceremony. We have the other grands this weekend, and we’re going fishing. Wish you could be here for that.”

  “Hopefully we’ll find time to go fishing while we’re there. Just make sure you have plenty of chocolate chip cookies.”

  “Call us when you leave, and drive safely,” Ken said with a smile. “We’ll keep the lights on for you.”

  Mona shook her head. Ken always said that, so it had become a long-standing family joke. “Hug the kids for me.” After clicking off the phone, she stared at it in her hand. “Did you get a sense that he’s not telling us something or was it just my worry mode trying to take over?”

  “Your worry mode. Let’s have our ice cream now.”

  First Steig, now the cat. Lord, I am putting these into Your hands. Please rap my knuckles if I try to take them back.

  Chapter Two

  I sure enjoy having those kids here.” Ken turned to Mona after they waved Marit and her family off Sunday evening. He heaved a sigh. “But I sure appreciate them leaving again.”

  “I know.” Mona flopped back in her leather recliner. “I think I’ll just enjoy the quiet for a few minutes.”

  “Aren’t we going for a walk?”

  “Not tonight. I feel like I’ve been in a rat race all weekend. I want to sit here, maybe watch a movie, and get recharged for tomorrow. You can go.”

  Ken collapsed into his recliner. “No, I was hoping you’d say that.” He picked up the remote. “I say popcorn and a movie will hit the spot.” He brought up the movie menu. “See anything that grabs you?”

  “No blood and gore.”

  “No chick flicks.”

  He scrolled through the list. “Anything look good?”

  He clicked on the Hallmark Channel. “Movie starts in ten.”

  “I’ll get the popcorn.” Mona levered herself to her feet. “Iced tea?” “The Swan of Tuonela” came from her phone. She thumbed it on. “What did you forget?”

  She listened a moment and said to Ken, “Torin’s Bobo Bear. Magnus will be right over.”

  Then to Marit, “Okay. Any idea where it is? Oh.” She thumbed off and turned to Ken. “She has no idea where it is.”

  “I’ll do the popcorn, you find the bear.” He made his way to the kitchen, tagged by two shadows. “You guys don’t like popcorn.” He could hear Mona moving from room to room. “Where do you suppose Bobo is?”

  Ambrose wagged his tail and looked over his shoulder.

  He smiled. Worth a shot. “Ambrose, go find Bobo.” Then he reached up for the box containing the microwave popcorn.

  Ambrose returned in a minute with the grungy bear in his mouth.

  “Mona,” he called, “Ambrose found the bear. Good boy!” He’d just put the bag in the microwave when the doorbell chimed. “Come on boy, you deliver it.” Together they walked to the front door, the dog carrying the bear.

  “Don’t tell me he found it.” Magnus looked from Ken to the dog.

  Ken looked down at the dog. “A genius in his limited way. Sadly deficient in others. Ambrose, drop it.”

  Ambrose dropped the bear to the floor and wagged his tail.

  “Good boy.”

  Magnus picked it up and shook his head. “About time Bobo Bear gets put on the shelf.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  “Thanks again for watching the kids. Marit and I, we had a good time.”

  “Glad to hear it. Always good when you can combine some fun with a business trip.” Ken watched Magnus stride down the walk, then returned to the kitchen. Good thing he’d not hit start for the popcorn yet. He set the timer and dug the bowl out of the drawer. As far as he was concerned, they could eat it out of the bag, but Mona insisted on the bowl. One more thing to wash. Surely they could find ways to simplify their lives. That would have to be a goal once he retired. The goal list was growing. He waited for the popping to cease and shook the bag before opening it. Not many old maids, he thought as he poured the popped corn in the bowl, inhaling the fragrance, the aroma wafting through the kitchen. Glancing down, he saw both animals staring up at him, taking turns licking their chops. He obliged by dropping a couple of kernels. Ambrose sniffed, did a dog shrug, and headed for the family room. Hyacinth crouched down and did away with the treat.

  “Since when do you like popcorn?” Her tail twitched at the end. “Anything to make a liar out of us.” He carried the
bowl into the family room and set it on the lamp table that separated their two recliners.

  “I can’t believe that Ambrose found Bobo Bear.” Mona shook her head while petting the dog. “I wonder where it was.”

  “No idea. Just in time.” Ken leaned back with a sigh. “Thanks for the fish fry supper. Sure tickled the kids after they caught so many fish.”

  “You clean ’em, I fry ’em.” She shook her head as she grinned. “That Arne cracks me up. Making sure you got to eat the biggest fish. He caught it just for you, you know.”

  “I know. Wish you’d been with us fishing. You and your camera.” He dug into the bowl of popcorn. “Someday maybe I’ll be able to take Steig’s kids fishing. Especially if he gets transferred to somewhere closer.”

  Mona reached for a napkin and laid it in her lap to fill with popcorn. “Hope I can keep my eyes open long enough to watch this movie.”

  Ken looked over at her a bit later. The popcorn was down to the unappetizing bits and Mona was fast asleep, Hyacinth on her lap and Ambrose snoring on the floor. Since he’d been floating in and out, he clicked off the TV. “Come on boy, outside.” He let the dog out, rinsed out the bowl and put it in the dishwasher, let the dog in, and went to wake Mona. He followed her up the stairs to the bedroom, the pets beside him. The cat darted ahead and leaped up on the bed to settle at the foot, as if someone might take her place.

  The nightly ritual brought a sense of comfort and peace. When he went to stand at the open window, he heard an owl hooting and saw the shadow of its flight in the moonlight. Staring out at the river, he watched three deer line up to drink at the river’s edge. Nearly a full moon. Three more days at work and he would be free. A lot to clean up in that amount of time. Shame they’d not found his replacement yet so he could train that person, at least in the basics. Sandy, though, his admin assistant, knew all that he did and would keep on working so there would not be a gap. He left the window and crawled into his own side of the bed. Tonight he didn’t even feel like reading, so he turned out the light and lay watching the branch patterns waltzing on the rug, thanks to the elm tree they’d planted five years ago. It now reached the top of the house and was filling out nicely.

  He turned over on his side and closed his eyes. He huffed a sigh. He’d not set the alarm. Three more days and no alarm. Officially hand over the reins on Wednesday and go home, come in for half an hour Friday to sign pay and honoraria checks, and done. Thursday morning he could sleep as late as he wanted. Maybe he’d run over the alarm with the car. He didn’t have a lunchbox to run over. There needed to be some symbol. Ernie had smashed his cell phone with a hammer. Said it felt mighty freeing. After sliding the button on the clock radio, Ken flopped back and tried to close his eyes again. And waited. What was the matter? He never had trouble falling asleep.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Sorry, I just can’t get to sleep.” He flipped the covers back and swung his feet over the edge of the bed. “Guess I’ll go downstairs and read for a while.” Taking his book off the nightstand, he slid his feet into his slippers, grabbed his robe off the end of the bed, and headed back downstairs. At least this way Mona would be able to sleep. He knew if he’d turned the light back on, she’d have been awake. Strange, this was usually her problem, not his. Ambrose padded beside him.

  Back in his recliner with the lamp on, he opened to the bookmarked page and skimmed until he found where he left off. Reading the latest O’Reilly book in the middle of the night was a retirement pleasure. He had a full day tomorrow and morning was coming much too soon.

  “Ken, are you okay?”

  He blinked open his eyes, confused for a moment. “Of course, why?” He stared up at her.

  “Because you never came back to bed, and the alarm kept on buzzing and I got worried. This is not like you.”

  Ken yawned and stretched. “What time is it?” He checked his watch. “Oh…I better get a move on.” Slamming his chair back to an upright position, he tried to stand. “Ouch.” His right leg felt like it was collapsing, pins and needles stabbed and restabbed.

  “Foot gone to sleep?”

  “Yes!” He sat back down and flexed his ankle, then toes. When the pain let up, he stood again. “Will you fix the coffee, please? I need to get a shower.”

  “You sure you’re all right?”

  “Yes! Ouch!”

  “You’re late.” Sandy Jensen stared at him over the rims of her glasses. “Are you all right? You look like ten miles of unpaved road.”

  He smiled a little. “Do you have that financial report ready that I asked for?”

  “On your desk, and you have half an hour until your meeting with the executive committee. Can you be ready in time? How can I help?”

  “Get me some coffee, please, and look up the graduation rate for scholarship recipients. I think they’re going to try to trim the aid budget, and we have a National Merit Scholar coming in this fall.” He’d planned on doing that himself first thing this morning. He who was always ready for meetings the day before was now fumbling to catch up.

  Sandy brought in several pages of graphs and text and laid them on his desk, setting the filled coffee mug down at the same time. “Anything else?”

  “Have we gotten any more applications?” He didn’t have to say “for my position.”

  “Three plus the in-house ones.”

  “Well, at least we meet the legal requirements then.” He read through the top page as he sipped coffee. “You have a file with all the résumés?”

  She nodded. “Be right back.” He finished the second page about the time she returned and set the file folder on his desk.

  “Any opinions?”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Is there ever a time I have no opinion?” At his smile, she continued. “They are in order of my preference, but then we’ve not interviewed them yet. It could be someone who looks gold on paper is lead when you’re face-to-face. I can do the follow-up while you’re in the meeting.”

  “Good idea. Book as many of them into tomorrow as you can.”

  Ken hated leaving important things to the last minute. He also hated the idea of leaving this position with no one else ready to step in. It made him feel like he’d not finished his job. But he didn’t want to come back to work after his retirement celebration either. Unfortunately, applications were just starting to come in. On the other hand, when the notice of vacancy goes out late, as this one did, it appears that the candidate has already been chosen, and the vacancy announcement is simply a legal requirement. He would give extra points to those who had theirs in early.

  “Did you apply for this position?” he asked when she returned with more folders.

  “Nope, I’m not qualified, education-wise.”

  “A master’s degree without the PhD is legal, you know. Not done much, but legal.”

  “I have no real desire to get one, either. I like being the support crew, I don’t like being up in front.”

  “But you’d be so very good at it.”

  “You know that theory about being promoted beyond one’s strengths? That would be me.”

  “The Peter Principle. I heartily disagree with you, but I’ve tried to break down the Sandy stubborn wall before. Let’s find you someone you can work with and make them look as good as you make me look.”

  “Thank you.” She glanced at her watch. “You have fifteen minutes.”

  “How many years have we worked together?”

  “Seventeen.” She stacked the file folders in order, set his iPad on top of the pile, and glanced around to make sure she had everything. “I’ll call the applicants and start the background checks with a Google search. Anything else? Oh and put your cell on vibrate.”

  He half shrugged. “Thanks,” he said, and did as she suggested. “For something that is supposed to make life easier…”

  “I know.” She left and sat down at her desk, just in time to answer the ringing telephone.

  He went through the printout quickly,
ran a highlighter through the points he would make, gathered the ghastly pile of paper into his attaché case (for the last time?), and walked downstairs to the Harriet Stone conference room. Harriet Stone. He had been introduced to the matriarch of Stone University shortly after he arrived and not long before she died. A brusquer, more bristly woman he had never met. He entered the double doors and settled in his usual place at the long oak table. He poked his code into the iPad, swiped to his notes, and laid it aside, then flopped his attaché case open.

  First the formalities. Even as the stragglers were still coming in, Dale, the assistant provost, began the meeting with the mandatory but phony words of welcome and thanks, as if they had any choice but to be here. Dale Crespin had married a Norwegian woman, but he had never fully adopted the Norwegian culture with which this whole area was saturated. He did, however, alter his name; Ken happened to know it was originally Crespynocsic. Dale, from Cleveland, Ohio, originally, was one of the few people in town of Polish descent.

  Dale glanced at the agenda on his iPad. “Let’s tackle finances first. John?”

  Across from Ken, their comptroller cleared his throat. “Ken’s department is the only one this first quarter that didn’t post a deficit. He spent everything he got, understand; no profit, but no red ink. This is a private university with shareholders who get antsy when they don’t see at least a modest return on their investment. To come out in the black this year, we’re going to have to make some serious and maybe painful decisions about what gets cut.”

  One by one, each person gave a brief (and sometimes not brief enough) report of the situation in his or her department. Finally, it was Ken’s turn.

  He smiled at all. “Thanks for your input here, John. John”—he nodded to the other John in the room—“your hard work elevating our academic status is paying off; we have admitted a National Merit Scholar, and four of the ten top students in Wisconsin have opted to come here. Our academic reputation is starting to reflect the excellence of our faculty. We’ve come a long way.”

  He looked from face to face around the room at this august governing body. Two women, the rest men. Better than five years ago, when there were no women at all. Maybe Harriet had frightened them off. No, Harriet no doubt frightened men; she had frightened Ken, and he’d known her five minutes, but women were not that easily cowed.