The Second Half Read online

  “I’m not a baby. I don’t like dogs.”

  Mona and Ken swapped glances and smiles.

  “Then don’t act like one.” Mellie smiled at her grandma. “Where’s Hyacinth?”

  “Probably under the bed. She’ll come out after a while.”

  “I could go get her,” the little girl suggested hopefully.

  “You could try, but she’d just run away. She always does this when new people come.”

  “She forgot us?”

  Mona shrugged. “Most likely. Just give her time.” Time was something they had an abundance of.

  Steig looked at his father. “So you got them all straightened out?”

  “Almost. I finished the reviews, did three interviews this morning, and will do two more tomorrow. There are two who really look possible.”

  “And neither are absolutely wonderful?”

  Ken nodded. “Not our great golden hope, no. It takes a lot of time.”

  “I’ll bet. It sounds easier than it is.”

  From the man who has had to do a lot of letting go. Mona watched her son. Surely there were new lines on his face, and he looked almost as tired as his dad had. Maybe he could get a good night’s sleep while he was here. They did not need to stay up late talking, or at least she hoped they didn’t have to.

  He finished the bar. “Thanks, Mom. Think I’ll just sit here and soak in the peace.” He patted his son’s back. “Been too long.” Jakey snuggled into his father.

  Ken kicked back his recliner. “Think I’ll join you.”

  Mona resisted the urge and stood instead. “Come on, Melinda, er, Mellie, we’ll go weed the flower bed.”

  Mellie took her hand. “Come on, Ambrose, you can help.”

  Mona noticed that Jakey was carefully watching the dog leave. Teaching him dog love was going to be a big challenge.

  Outside, Mona hooked her garden apron with her gloves, trowel, and clippers around her waist, grabbed a bucket, and they knelt down by the curving bed. “Now, these are the weeds and these the vegetables. See that? That’s lettuce and a row of carrots right behind them.” While the lettuce was nearly ready to pick, the carrots had feathery tops but no carrot yet.

  “Can I have a digger, too?”

  “You sure can. But your fingers work best for these weeds. We’ll pull them before they get big, then throw them in the bucket.”

  “I saw a goat eating weeds. The lady said they keep grass down, too, so you don’t have to mow. Maybe you should have a goat.”

  “I don’t think they allow goats here; chickens and rabbits but no goats.”

  “Do chickens eat weeds?” Mellie dumped a handful in the bucket.

  “They do, but if they are loose, they eat the good plants, too.”

  “Maybe we could have chickens.”

  Down inside, Mona smiled. Already Mellie was saying we instead of you. “You talk to Grampy about that.” Mona already knew his opinions on more pets than Ambrose and Hyacinth. “But later. I think he’s sleeping.”

  “I know. I really want a pony. I rode one at the park.”

  Mona smiled. “I wanted a pony when I was your age, too.”

  “Did you get one?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  Mona could hear her father on the matter of horses. “We lived in town, no pasture for horses or ponies.”

  “Why?”

  Mona rolled her lips together. “Because that’s where we lived. Like here.”

  “You have a big yard.”

  “We do, but not enough space for big animals.” She leaned back on her heels. “Looks like we’re making progress, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I think more cookies would be good.”

  “Let’s finish this bed, and then we’ll have a cookie break.”

  “Can I eat the lettuce?”

  “If you want, but you will want to wash it first.”

  “Does Ambrose like lettuce?”

  “Not particularly.” She watched as Mellie lay back on the grass with her head on the dog’s ribs. Ambrose licked her cheek, making her giggle. She reached over her head to pat him, then kicked one bent leg up in the air three times, then the other.

  “I’m doing my exercises.”

  “Do them for me, too.”

  Mellie sat straight up. “I can’t do them for you.”

  “Oh.”

  Mellie giggled and flopped back. “Texas is brown, not green like here. Daddy said you get more rain here. Why?”

  “Because Wisconsin is more north, Texas is in the south.”

  “More snow, too, huh?”

  Mona kept on digging and dropping weeds in the bucket. Guess the guys all needed naps. She thought about waking them but figured sleep was more important. The time passed pleasantly. She turned to smile when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

  “I’m about done, Mellie.”

  “Grammy, Daddy’s going to leave, huh?”

  “Yes, he’s being deployed again.”

  “And we’re going to stay here?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Go to school here, too? I’m in fourth grade this year. What is fourth grade like here, do you know? Will I find any friends?”

  “I’m sure you will. And you’ll have Brit.” Mona pulled off her gloves and sat cross-legged instead of kneeling.

  Mellie frowned. “Your knee just popped.”

  “Yep.” She reached over and snagged the little girl, drawing her down into the sort-of lap, then wrapped her arms around her, chin resting on the top of Mellie’s head. They sat that way for a little while. Ambrose scooted over to lay his head in the little lap. Mellie reached up with one hand and patted Mona’s cheek. Thank You, Lord, for moments like this.

  They both looked up when the screen door opened and Steig stepped out onto the porch.

  “Hi, Daddy. Come sit by us.” Mellie patted the grass.

  “You got room?” He yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “I put Jakey down on the sofa. Dad’s still snoring.” Jumping down the three steps, he sat cross-legged like his mother. “We should start unloading.”

  “Magnus will be over later. We can wait for him.”

  “You have no idea how much stuff is here.” He tweaked Mellie’s nose. “Kids just need a lot of stuff.”

  She giggled and changed laps. Ambrose came to sit by Steig, tail swishing the grass. “We could go down to the river.” She looked at her dad. “Want to?”

  “We could, but we have to unload so I can get the trailer turned back in today.”

  “Oh. Maybe we can go down to the river tonight.”

  “Maybe.” He hugged her tight and made her giggle.

  Mona caught the look in his eyes as he kissed the top of her head. Talk about a breaking heart.

  “Come on, let’s get your bike out, and you can ride on the driveway while we unload.” He rose to his feet without putting her down. “Oof, you’re getting big.”

  “That’s okay.” She patted his upper arm. “You got lots of muscles.”

  Together the three of them walked over to the rear of the trailer, where he put his daughter down and dug in his pocket for the keys. “See what I mean?” he said when he swung the doors open.

  “Oh, good, you brought chests of drawers.”

  “Easier than packing the stuff in boxes. This way I just bungeed the drawers closed and put that dolly to work.” He pulled the two-wheeled upright dolly out first since it was on top. A pink-and-purple girl’s bike was next. “There you go, kiddo.”

  “You made a rhyme,” Mellie said accusingly. “I thought you didn’t like poetry.”

  “I did.” He pulled out another two-wheeler with training wheels. “Neighbor insisted we take this for Jake. So far he likes his sidewalk bike better, but I’m sure you’ll all be riding your bikes along the river trail.” He paused. “You did get bikes?”

  “Not yet, but we plan to. Lots of stuff got put on hold these last weeks. Garden came first.” She turned to Melli
e. “How about wheeling this into the garage, off to the side where the garden supplies are?”

  Mellie did as asked and ran back to drag the red wagon in next. “Did you bring the Slip ’N Slide?”

  “I did, it’s here somewhere.” He turned to his mother. “Maybe we better back Dad’s car out.”

  “I’ll get the keys to my car. We’ll put stuff up by the back wall until we can put it all away. Ken talked about putting those steel shelves along that wall.”

  “Did he buy them yet?”

  “No.”

  “Tell you what, we get this unloaded and I’ll pick up the shelves when I return the trailer. No sense moving this stuff more than we have to.”

  They had only made a dent in the load when Ken joined her in the garage. “You should have wakened me.”

  “Why? You needed the rest. You still look haggard. Steig got up about half an hour ago. Is Jake still sleeping?”

  “He was when I left. Catch me up out here.”

  “Steig plans to buy shelving when he returns the trailer. We’re just stacking stuff out of the way now.”

  Ken nodded in his noncommittal way. Mona only hoped he did not feel guilty about failing to get the shelves yet. He had so much going on already.

  Mellie paused with a big box of dolls. “Hi Grampy. Grammy and me weeded the flowers.” She stacked the box on others.

  “Good for you. Grammy needs all the help she can get.” Ken headed for the trailer, where Steig had the dolly loaded again.

  Mona and Mellie started on the SUV. “You carry your travel bags in, and I’ll get the suitcases.”

  “Okay. Where should I put them?”

  “In the family room by the bookshelves. You know where the games and things are?”

  “’Kay.”

  Steig slammed the trailer door and lifted the rear door on the SUV. “I think all this should go upstairs.”

  A wailing scream reverberated through the house and out the garage. “Daaaddyyyyy!”

  Steig charged into the house, Mona right on his heels.

  Jake was crunched up in a corner of the sofa, sobbing and shaking.

  “Jake, easy son, what is it? What’s wrong?” Steig scooped him up.

  He clung like Velcro to his daddy’s neck. “The c-c-cat! The cat is going to hurt me! She hates me!”

  Steig settled down on the sofa with Jakey in his lap close against him. “Okay, stop crying so you can tell me what happened.” He grabbed a tissue and mopped the tears. “Blow.” That done, he continued, all the while rocking his son and making comfort sounds. “Now what happened?”

  “The cat.”

  “I get that. I don’t see any bite marks or scratches or anything. Jake, I think you’re fine.” Steig looked up at his mom. “Nothing.”

  Mona asked, “Did the cat bite you?”

  Jakey shook his head.

  “Scratch you?”

  Another headshake.

  What was going on here? “Where was the cat?”

  Jake pointed to the first cushion on the sofa where he’d been sleeping, half on that one and half on the middle one. Instantly he curled up inside his daddy’s embrace again.

  Mona cleared her throat, and when Steig looked up at her, she nodded. “I bet that Hyacinth just jumped up on the sofa to see who was there. Is he really that terrified of cats?”

  “Beats me. Maybe just the shock. I’ll work on him and the cat before…”

  He didn’t have to finish the sentence. The before was enough to make his mother blow her nose.

  Chapter Nine

  I waited as long as I could!” Marit reached up to hug her brother.

  Steig snorted. “Figures. The work is about done.”

  How Mona loved the lighthearted banter these two had engaged in their whole lives. Marvelous children. Thank You, Lord.

  Marit playfully elbowed Steig in the ribs. “Who’s this you’re holding? Sure doesn’t look too happy.”

  “Jake, you remember your aunty Marit and your cousins, right?” He waved an arm toward the other kids who were already pulling out the outside toys.

  “Hey, you guys. Come say hi to Jakey.” Marit patted his leg, but he immediately hid his face in his father’s neck. “Oops. Not a happy camper?”

  “Not right now, woke from a nap to see the C-A-T.” Steig rolled his eyes. “Fill you in later.”

  “Magnus called to say he’d meet us here, so we came on over.” She looked at her mother and motioned to where her dad was unloading the SUV. “He okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.” Ken smiled as he answered. “I just decided I needed to be here greeting my family more than…”

  “Duking it out with Dale?”

  “Let’s say, I did all I could for the moment.”

  “You gave up?”

  “Not really. I’d rather term it as gaining wisdom.” While Ken’s smile was wide, somehow it didn’t reach his eyes. “Grab some of that stuff; all this goes upstairs.”

  Marit looked at her mother, who shrugged. “You put it at the bottom of the stairs, and I’ll get my steps in today going up and down.” Mona glanced over at Jakey to see him watching her, thumb and forefinger in his mouth. But he hid again as soon as she smiled.

  “Hey, Brit, would you please get the grocery bags out of the car?” Marit took two black plastic bags full and headed for the house. “The tossed salad is in the big green bowl. I can smell the spaghetti sauce from here.”

  Later, with the guys gone to return the trailer, including Jake, who had yet to leave the safe refuge called Dad, Marit and Mona finished carrying the last of the kids’ belongings up to the bedroom to join the stack in front of the closet doors. “I thought military people traveled light.” Marit dropped her bag.

  “Usually the movers do all this.” Mona leaned against the wall. “I was hoping both chests of drawers would fit in the closet, but that left no room for hanging anything up. Then I could set up shelves along that wall with baskets to hold toys and such.”

  “When things settle down, we can redo the closet and make it more efficient.”

  “Right.”

  “Come on, Mom, things won’t always be this chaotic. It wasn’t when we were kids.”

  “And chaos comes and goes at your house.”

  “True, but…”

  “Mom!” Brit yelled from the bottom of the stairs. “Arne is bleeding.”

  Marit rolled her eyes and started for the door. “How bad?”

  “He skinned his knee, but the blood is running down his leg.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Outside.”

  “He can’t walk?”

  “He doesn’t think so.” Brit sounded like an exasperated big sister.

  “Tell him to get in here so we can clean it up.”

  She ran for the door. “Mom said to get in here right now!”

  “You could have waited until you got outside,” Marit muttered as she turned toward the bathroom. While Marit got the first aid kit, Mona went on into the kitchen to see her sniffling grandson come limping in from the garage. “What happened?” She patted the stool and he climbed up. Handing him one tissue for his nose, she used another to mop up the blood trickling down into his sock. “What did you do?”

  “Ambrose and me were chasing, and I fell over him on the gravel. He felt real bad. He tried licking the blood, but Brit pulled him away. He was trying to help.” He sniffed again. “It hurts, Grammy.”

  “I know, and scrubbing that gravel out is going to hurt worse. But not for long. We have to get it clean. Maybe we should use a scrub brush on it.”

  His eyes saucered. “Really?”

  “No, silly, Grammy’s teasing.” She turned to Marit, who plunked the plastic box of first aid supplies on the counter.

  “I don’t know, a brush sounds like a good idea to me.” She looked at the knee. “Let’s get you up on the counter with your leg in the sink. Maybe the running water will be enough so that we can forget the brush.”

  “Mo
oooooom.”

  Marit looked at her mother. “Are they born saying mom that way or is it learned?” Scooping up her son, she set him on the counter, his leg straightened out over the double sink.

  “Got me. But all kids seem to get it.” Mona adjusted the water to cool and set it to run over his knee. “You really got a scrape all right.” She looked down to see Ambrose staring up at her, as if pleading to make everything all right. “Look, Arne, he’s so sorry.”

  “I know.” He scrunched up his face. “Ow! Mom!” A tear leaked out of his clenched eyes.

  “Hang in there. I need to make sure this is clean.” She turned off the water and wiped the knee off with a gauze pad. “You got a flashlight, Mom?”

  Mona pulled it out of the drawer, flipping on the light over the sink at the same time. She held the beam right on his knee. “Looks good to me.”

  “Bleeding like that helps.” After drying off her son’s knee, she applied salve and a big square bandage. “That’s big enough we could draw a face on it.”

  “Yeah, do it.” Arne leaned forward.

  Mona pulled a Sharpie out of the kitchen junk drawer and drew a smiley face on the tan plastic. “There you go.”

  He swung his legs out over the edge and slid to the floor. “Come on, Ambrose.” Swiping a cookie off the tray, he grinned at his mother. “Thanks, Grammy, Mom.” Stuffing the chocolate chip cookie in his mouth so the others wouldn’t see it, he slammed out the screen door.

  “Don’t slam the door.”

  Arne peeked around the edge of the door he opened again. “Sorry.” This time he very carefully closed the door so it barely snicked.

  Marit cleaned up the mess, all the while shaking her head. “Kids.”

  If supper that night was a portent of things to come, life ahead wouldn’t by the slightest stretch of imagination be peaceful. Five kids, only one of whom was not talking, five adults, only one of whom was not laughing. Or shushing. Or practicing the rolling of eyes.

  Mona enjoyed the chaos in a way—so much life, so much vibrancy. But a nagging thought forced itself into the back of her mind: What will this do to your tendency to depression? It’s going to weigh on you, this constant churning. You won’t be able to just walk away from it. Can your nerves handle it? Maybe not.