It wasn’t much past eight when the phone rang. Marlene was on the other end, apologizing for calling so early—before Karen had even had a chance to call her cousin. “Of course she can come stay with us, Marlene.”
“You don’t know what this means to us. To me. I just couldn’t bear the thought of her having to go into another place—especially some sort of old folks’ home.”
“I understand. Mom thinks it will be a lot of fun. We’re going to remodel and fix up the bedrooms downstairs and the commons area and that way it will be like they have their own apartment. They’ll each have a bed and bath all their own and then the little kitchenette. I think we’ll all be quite happy. And I can use the help with the apples and black walnuts.”
Marlene laughed. “Mom knows full well how to help with both.”
“Exactly. So when does she need to come?”
“Well, I was hoping by the end of the week. We’re getting everything sorted. I called the kids and found out what they wanted. I figure to ship it to them. Then we’re going to be ruthless and get rid of most everything. Leo promised we could buy what we need when we get to California. Besides, his folk already have a houseful of furniture and knickknacks.”
“True, but you’ll want your own things around you.” Karen glanced around her kitchen. She couldn’t imagine not having her things with her. When Marlene said nothing, Karen figured she was waiting for an answer regarding the time. “Well, Aunt Lettie is welcome to come whenever. I’ll still have to make some repairs and add some grab bars and make sure the floors don’t have any places to get hung up on.”
“Karen, I can’t thank you enough. I think, if it’s all right with you, I’ll come out later today with Mom and let her look things over. That way she can feel like it’s at least partially her decision.”
“That’s fine. I’ll be here all day. I have apples to can.”
They ended the call and Karen looked to her mother. “Marlene and Aunt Lettie will be out here later today to look things over.”
“Good. We might as well let Lettie choose which room she wants and then we can focus on getting it ready for her.”
Mom was already sorting apples. “You know, I’m glad we have that kitchen machine that lets us just put the whole cooked apple in and gives you back applesauce without seeds or skins. I don’t think I want to have to core and peel all of these.” She motioned to the twelve boxes of apples sitting along the kitchen wall and on the counter.
“For sure,” Karen replied, her mind still on Aunt Lettie. “Do you suppose Aunt Lettie will really be happy here? I mean, she’s been with Marlene for over ten years. I’m sure she’ll miss her daughter.”
Mom put down the paring knife. “I think she’ll be so happy she won’t know what to do with herself. She once told me the hardest part about getting married was having to leave the farm. This was such a happy place for all of us. I know people look at me like I must be crazy when I say we were always happy here. Sure we had moments of conflict, but we worked through it as a family … or individually if that was needed. But we were happy here.”
“I know. I love the stories you all used to tell when we’d get the family together. While a lot of the others were running around outside or riding horses, I was listening to the old people talk.”
“Old people, eh? We were no older than you back then.”
Karen chuckled. “I know. I thought of that as well.”
A little after three that afternoon, Marlene and Aunt Leticia arrived. Karen hadn’t seen her aunt in over a month—maybe two. She and Mom had been so busy with the garden that they hadn’t been much for visiting anyone. They barely managed to get to church.
They went together to meet Marlene and Leticia in the yard and walked down the sloping drive that led to the back of the house. Karen figured it would be easier to do this and later Marlene could drive down and get her mother.
“Meredith, I always loved what you and Curtis did with building the new house,” Aunt Lettie began. “The farm needed a big family place like this. Remember all of us trying to live in the homestead house?”
Mom smiled. “I do. All of us girls sharing space upstairs.” She turned to Karen. “We were almost like two sets of twins, me and my sisters. We were so close in age, just a year or at most two years apart from the next one.”
Lettie nodded. “I loved the times everyone would get together out here, didn’t you, Marlene?”
“I did. The food was always incredible, and it was fun coming back to the farm. Especially when you guys still had horses and other animals to play with.” Marlene gazed off across the yard. “I used to love to swim in the pond.”
“Mercy, but we all did,” Aunt Lettie replied. “When we girls were young, Mother couldn’t keep us out of it during the summer. She used to have to threaten to send Dad to fetch us. We knew we’d be in big trouble if our disobedience forced Dad to leave important work in order to handle us, so we always came running at that warning.”
They reached the back of the house and stopped a moment. Karen looked up at the deck that stood over the downstairs patio. It needed some attention, and she’d been meaning to get to that ever since Stan died. In fact, he was the one who pointed out the problem areas.
“Shall we go inside?” Mom asked.
Karen pulled her attention back to the others. “Of course. That’s why we’re all here.”
She opened the french door on one side and flipped on a light. The illumination revealed a large open room with a couch and several stuffed chairs. Against the far wall were the kitchenette and a door. Karen started the tour.
“As you can see there’s a little kitchen area. Refrigerator, stove, sink, microwave. Just about everything you’d want except a dishwasher.”
“Oh bother,” Aunt Lettie declared. “I never liked them. Always washed dishes by hand. Gets them cleaner.”
“Mom always thought that way too, until I showed her what a really good dishwasher could do.”
Karen continued the tour. “This door leads to storage.” She opened it to reveal a very neatly organized storage room. Shelves lined the walls, and on those shelves were a variety of things including most of the vegetables and fruit she and Mom had canned that summer.
“Looks like you two have been busy,” Marlene said, nodding toward the canned goods.
“Yes. We had a really good garden this year, and all the berry bushes produced in record numbers. We made jellies and jams and pie filling until we didn’t care if we ever saw another berry. Now we’re working on apples, and next it will be black walnuts.”
“I remember those days,” Aunt Lettie said, nodding in approval. “This looks good, Meredith.”
Karen backed them out of the first storage room and showed them another before moving on to the room they used for tornadoes. “This is the room where we take shelter when the storms are bad.” She opened the reinforced door and revealed a small room with a bunch of folding chairs leaning against the wall. Another door was on the other side of the room.
“That door goes into one of the bedrooms. Dad insisted there be two doors in case one of them got blocked if, say, a tornado hit the house full on.”
“Your father was always worried about storms,” Mom admitted.
Aunt Lettie gave a tsking sound. “We had to go outside in the storm just to get to the storm shelter. Used to terrify poor Rachel.”
Aunt Rachel was just a little older than Karen’s mother and the only one of the sisters who never married. She was one of those people who seemed afraid of her shadow when she was little, but then turned out to be a schoolteacher of younger grades and didn’t seem to fear anything—not even the occasional snake that was brought to show-and-tell.
“Well, if you’ll recall, Lettie, Curtis did endure a time of dealing with the storm shelter while we built this place.”
“Oh, I do recall that,” Aunt Lettie replied. “Seems like a thousand years ago. I was so impressed with how fast this house went up.”
Mom chuckled. “Well, he had friends in the construction business who had extended family also in the construction business, so it made it very nice and cut down on the months and months needed to build a house.”
Karen motioned them from the storm shelter and moved on to the bedrooms. “The boys had these rooms on the west side, so you’ll still see a few of their things. I’ll get those packed up this week and the rooms thoroughly cleaned just in case you want one of them. I even plan to paint.”
They inspected the rooms, which were in much better shape than Karen remembered. Even the bathrooms were clean and orderly. They moved back across the living area.
“The fireplace is gas and really warms up the room if you put down all the thermal shades on the windows.” The windows she spoke of included the french doors and the two large windows on either side.
She crossed to the two east bedrooms. Opening the first door, she showed them what was once her old room. Then they moved to the other room, which had always been used for guests.
“And that’s just about everything. There’s more storage under the stairs over there by the dining-room table and chairs.”
“I’ll be bringing my rocking chair,” Aunt Lettie announced. “I need it for my back.”
“Of course,” Karen replied with a smile. “You can bring most anything you need. Just keep in mind that space is limited down here. If you have a lot, we might have to put it in the homestead house until we can figure it all out.”
“Nonsense. I won’t be bringing that much. I’ve gotten rid of stuff over the years.” She frowned. “I just want my chair. I don’t even need to bring my clothes. I’ll live in my nightgown if I have to.”
Karen hadn’t meant to offend her aunt. “The chair and whatever else will be just fine, Aunt Lettie. I just wanted to make sure there’d be enough space in your room.”
“Mom, it will be just fine. Don’t be sarcastic. No one is denying you your clothes.”
Karen’s phone began to ring. She looked at the caller ID. “It’s Aunt Helen.” Her aunt had become a widow three months earlier, and Karen hadn’t heard or seen her since the funeral.
“Hello, Aunt Helen?”
“Karen?”
“Yes, it’s me. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine, but I heard that Lettie is coming to live with you.”
Karen glanced around at her mom and the others. “Yes. She is. In fact, she and Marlene are here right now looking at the space.”
“Put her on speaker,” Mom said.
Karen’s mom loved putting folks on speaker so that everyone in the room could participate. She did as Mom suggested. “Aunt Helen, I’m going to put you on speaker so everyone can hear you and you can talk to them.” She punched the button. “Can you hear us?”
“I hear you,” Helen replied.
“Hello, Helen. It’s Meredith.”
“Meredith. I presume Lettie can hear me too.”
“I hear you,” Lettie answered. “Why are you calling?” Lettie always got right to the point.
“I heard you were going to live there on the farm.”
“I am. I’m going to move into the house with Karen and Meredith.”
There was a long pause, then a rather teary-sounding voice asked, “Can I come too?”
“What’s that?” Lettie questioned. “You want to move in here too?”
“Yes.” She sniffed. “I’m sorry for the tears. It’s just after losing Gary … well … I’ve been so lonely. The kids went home to their various places, and I’m here by myself all the time.”
Karen looked to her mom, who nodded. “Of course you can move in with us, Aunt Helen. But as I was just telling Aunt Lettie, we’ll have to be mindful of how much stuff each person brings. My house was already full, and while I plan to get rid of a lot, we … ah … need to be cautious.”
“Just get rid of everything like I did, Helen. Have the kids come and take what they want after you box up your personals. Then call an estate sale agency. They’ll come out and sell off everything else.” Aunt Lettie was not in the least shy about dictating to her younger sibling.
“I’ll call the kids immediately and let them know. It might take me a week or two, but I’ll get one of them to bring me.”
“Well, keep us posted when that might be.” Karen could hardly believe she was taking on yet another one of her aunts, but somehow it felt right.
She ended the call and looked at the others. “I guess we’ll soon have a full house.”
“In keeping with that idea,” Mom interjected, “why don’t we invite Rachel to join us. There are four bedrooms and we can all live quite easily with each other so long as Lettie doesn’t get bossy.”
“Me?” Lettie replied, rolling her gaze heavenward. “I’m not the one to worry about. If Rachel goes into her schoolteacher mode, we’re all in for it.” They all laughed.
That night as Karen got ready for bed, she thought of how empty her life had seemed—how lonely she’d been despite Mom’s presence in the house. Soon, however, the house would be filled to capacity. Aunt Rachel had been delighted at the idea of leaving her tiny house nearly fifty miles away and moving back to the farm. She had her little community of friends, but it wasn’t the same as being with family.
Karen opened her Bible to read and pray for a little bit before sleeping. She and Stan had followed this routine each night, and she’d kept it up after he’d died. How she missed him. Something about having a man around balanced everything out.
She read from the Psalms for a few minutes, then prayed for guidance and direction. This was going to be a big change in her life, and who could say how it would all fall together? The sisters hadn’t lived under one roof in a long, long time. They might all be so set in their ways that they’d find each other’s company impossible.
“I guess the only way we’ll know for sure is to try it.” The only problem with trying was it might all go terribly wrong, and then where would they go? Her aunts would have sold their houses—or in Lettie’s case, said goodbye to her daughter—and they’d be on their own. Karen knew they all had enough money to take care of themselves, but if they didn’t get along, it would probably fall to her to somehow make it right.
She sighed. “Please God, make this work.”
Dan Polk finished making a couple of sandwiches then headed for the living room. A college football game was on TV, and he intended to enjoy it. He’d even silenced his phone, not that he was expecting any calls. His boys, Mark and David, had gone dove hunting on a friend’s farm in the Flint Hills. They’d be gone all weekend—no doubt much too busy to worry about calling.
He turned up the volume and sat back in his favorite recliner. That was when it dawned on him he’d forgotten something to drink. He put the sandwiches on the table beside his chair and got back up and headed to the kitchen.
The fridge was full of their favorite sodas. Ginger ale for Mark, cola for David, and orange soda for Dan. He’d always been fond of fruity flavors, but orange was his favorite. Having grown up in a strong Christian family, Dan had never been one to drink beer as did many of his contractor friends. It just never appealed. He’d gotten his fair share of ribbing over it, even a fight or two, but after years of seeing him unwilling to consume alcohol, most just took it in stride and accepted him as he was.
Dan had raised the boys to be the same way. When he’d married all those years ago, he and his wife, Geena, agreed there would be no liquor in the house. They didn’t make it a spiritual matter, so much as a health one, but nevertheless it covered all bases. Only once had the boys broken the rule about drinking. They’d done it together, as they did most everything. Mark had just graduated, and he and David were in a celebratory mood. David of course was only sixteen, but Mark didn’t see that as a problem and got them a bottle of something to share. Neither much cared for the taste, and both got sick and threw up. When Dan found them, he didn’t have to chastise them—they were already suffering and swearing they’d never touch the stuff again. And they never did.
Grabbing a couple of orange sodas, Dan made his way back to the living room and the game. It was a good way to spend the afternoon. He’d spent many a weekend this way. After the accident, Dan had never had much interest in getting out to go anywhere.
Thoughts of the accident always brought to mind the loss. A drunk driver had hit his wife Geena’s car head-on. She and their three-year-old daughter, Kaitlyn, had been killed instantly. The boys had been injured. Dan had been working at a subdivision on the north side of town when a stranger called him to say he needed to come to the hospital as his wife and children had been in an accident. They’d offered no other information, and Dan drove ninety miles an hour on the interstate, praying all the way.
It was as if it had happened yesterday instead of fifteen years ago. When he’d arrived at the emergency room, a nurse had taken him to a small room to wait for the doctor. Dan knew the news wasn’t going to be good if they were isolating him. He waited nearly ten minutes before someone showed up.
The look on the doctor’s face caused the bottom of Dan’s stomach to drop out. He tensed and readied himself for whatever the doctor would say. He hadn’t been ready enough.
“I’m afraid I have very bad news,” the doctor began. “There was a head-on collision. A drunk driver ran into your wife near Tenth and Jackson. I’m afraid your wife and daughter didn’t make it.”
Dan felt as if time stopped in that moment. “And the boys?”
“They were injured. We need to get the oldest one to surgery. There are forms for you to sign.”
The rest of the day was a blur of doctors and nurses, forms, and that antiseptic smell of hospital rooms. Once the boys were stable, they were put into the same room in the pediatric ward, and Dan was able to be with them. He could still see how tiny and helpless they looked. They were only seven and five. Way too young to have to face something like this.
He put the memory aside and blew out a long breath. Fifteen years. He’d been a widower raising two sons for the last fifteen years, but sometimes it seemed like only yesterday he’d gotten the call—seen his sons fight for life—buried his wife and daughter.