Ready or Not (Aggie's Inheritance) (7 page)

Minutes later, she dashed down the hall shouting orders into each room.
“
Get your shoes on, find the brush, where are the socks, and what did you guys do with my can of coffee?
”

As she rushed to button Kenzie
’
s dress and then braid the twins
’
hair, Aggie felt like the proverbial chicken with its head cut off. Upon reconsideration, she changed her mind.
“
I
’
d imagine even half-dead chickens display more dignity than me in my current state.
”

Clutching four different shoes in one hand and a fist full of socks in the other, Aggie called up the stairs in desperation,
“
Does
anyone
have two
matching
shoes of the
same size
?
”
While she hurried to fill a bottle for the diaper bag, she muttered to herself,
“
Why Allie ever purchased identical shoes for identical twins is completely beyond comprehension! What am I supposed to do with two left white sandals and four feet?
”

Somehow, she managed to find matching shoes for all the little girls.
“
Allie is probably getting dizzy from the spinning in her grave over these things,
”
she muttered again. The ludicrous picture that her mind conjured as she spoke sent her off into a fit of giggles that rapidly melted into choking sobs.

Mrs. Gansky found the children and Aggie huddled around the bottom step in the entryway, wiping tears and looking miserable. Kenzie
’
s nose ran, and Cari
’
s face held a look of impending doom. Little Lorna seemed to have withdrawn further into herself, while Vannie looked several years older.

“
We
’
ve had a bit of a sob fest, Mrs. Gansky. It
’
s amazing how lost shoes can become such a big deal when you have bigger hurts wanting to be noticed, isn
’
t it?
”

* * *

Eyebrows rose as Aggie tore out of the parking lot from church and zipped down the road. She
’
d been so eager to be with the church and sing, listen to some encouraging teaching, and have a refreshing time of fellowship. After missing church the week before, she
’
d especially looked forward to the peaceful time of communion that always seemed to ground her and settle her spirit in ways that nothing else did.

Today, however, fellowship with the church had been stress personified. From the moment she stepped out of her car, until the moment she pealed out of the parking lot, people had flooded her with condolences, offers of help, and more advice than ten mothers could have tried to follow in a lifetime. The hugs, pats, and knowing-smiles were more than enough. When followed by announcements reminding the congregation of all the help Aggie was going to need, that was almost too much to bear. Guilt nearly smothered her until she realized that everyone was merely doing what the church should.

Aggie repeatedly p-mailed quick prayers, begging for patience and understanding with well-meaning people until she despaired of her prayers being little more than
“
vain repetitions.
”
P-mail was Aggie
’
s personal term for sending very quick, very short prayers. Aggie considered it her way to live out the Biblical admonition to
“
pray without ceasing.
”
On days like today, she tended to feel like she
’
d abused her account, and that if she wasn
’
t careful, her p-mails would bounce, or worse, be sent to God
’
s spam filter.

After the first stoplight and a deep breath of relief, she drove home slowly, enjoying the chatter of the little girls and Ian
’
s coos in the seat behind her. Remembering a drive-thru style convenience store, she drove out of the way, savoring the extra minutes before reaching home, and bought ice cream for the children
’
s dessert. Dessert on Sunday was a Milliken tradition and one Aggie did not want her charges to miss.

Her car slowly puttered through elm-lined streets. Somehow, the Dutch elm disease hadn
’
t yet touched the old stately trees in Allie
’
s neighborhood. She snorted indelicately, amused at the idea of her little outdated Beetle hob-knobbing with the elegant homes of this proud and established neighborhood. As they reached the end of the street, through the tall junipers that lined the wrought iron fencing, she glimpsed a car. Pulling through the imposing (and in her opinion, pretentious) gates, Aggie managed to stifle an audible groan, although her mental mutterings were less self-controlled. Geraldine Stuart
’
s late model Mercedes sat parked in the middle of the driveway, blocking her usual parking place. She was forced to pull into an awkward corner of the driveway far from the door and with little room to maneuver out of the vehicle. Forgetting earlier notions of an exceeded p-mail quota, she quickly sent another zinger heavenward.
“
Lord, am I in trouble or something? Why
today
?
”

She rearranged her face into what felt like a pleasant smile and turned to greet her sister
’
s mother-in-law.
“
Good morning, Mrs. Stuart! We didn
’
t know you were coming, or we
’
d have invited you to church with us. I see you managed to get in just fine!
”

Aggie jotted,
“
ensure all doors are always locked,
”
on her continually running mental task list. Mrs. Gansky pulled up to the front of the house and diverted her attention for a moment as the older children spilled out of the Gansky
’
s car and raced up the driveway to greet their grandmother. The look on Mrs. Stuart
’
s face discouraged her from any more forced brightness. She stuffed down the feeling of impending doom that followed Geraldine Stuart like a cartoon cloud, and led the children into the house.

Any hope of a pleasant visit vanished. Mrs. Stuart took command from the second she crossed the threshold. She dispatched the older children to their quarters to change from their dress clothes and into
“
suitable Sunday afternoon attire.
”
She narrowed her eyes and furrowed her brow at the sight of the mixed up shoe and sock situation. Ian
’
s lack of shoes almost sent her into a tirade, but Kenzie
’
s dress, now splotched with glue from a Sunday school project, distracted her.

She launched into a speech about appropriate attire and being neat and clean at all times.
“
Their filthy clothes show me that you are not taking your responsibilities seriously, Agathena.
”
Aggie couldn
’
t imagine calling a spot of glue on a five-year-old
’
s dress dirty, but what could an inexperienced young whippersnapper like herself know about these things anyway?

The stalwart grandmother surveyed Aggie and the children with disdain. Aggie wore a broomstick skirt and a long sleeved peasant blouse. The simple outfit suited Aggie
’
s taste and personality to perfection. Her hair hung past her shoulders, slightly tousled by Ian
’
s curious hands. To Geraldine, she looked like a hippie.

“
Agathena Milliken! Wearing combat boots to church? What kind of example do you think you
’
re setting by doing something so outlandish?
”

Aggie stared at her shoes and waited for the offending boots to materialize on her feet. She blinked. The shoes remained in place. Suddenly, her laughter rang through the entryway. Geraldine
’
s eyes narrowed in anger.

“
Oh, Mrs. Stuart! These aren
’
t combat boots. These are Doc Martens! Absolutely everyone on campus wears them. They
’
re the most comfortable things; you should try them!
”

As Geraldine droned, eloquently but obnoxiously, about the importance of making a good impression with words, actions, and attire, Aggie did her own mental survey of the woman opposite her. Standing perfectly erect
,
and with excellent elocution, Geraldine
’
s lecture was far from the awe-inspiring report she desired. She heard little of what Mrs. Stuart said. She didn
’
t notice the expensive suit or her perfectly coiffed hair. The jewelry that spoke of old wealth went unnoticed. These things were clearly important to Geraldine Stuart. She saw only the lack of life and warmth in the older woman
’
s eyes. They reminded her of the pictures of the British guard in front of Buckingham Palace, living, yet not alive.

“
Aggie, we have a few things to discuss, and I intend to check on how the children are doing before I return home. However, they appear to be hungry. Please hurry with their lunch.
”

A quick rummage in the fridge and pantry sho
wed the raw materials for lunch
meat sandwiches, chips, and fruit. Though certain to be inadequate by Mrs. Stuart
’
s standards, she was happy that none of the ingredients were frozen or needed the use of the microwave for their preparation. While she slapped mayo and mustard on whole wheat bread, irritation showing with every swish of the knife, Vannie and Laird hustled out of their church clothes and into more comfortable and casual attire.

She grabbed for a clean washcloth to wipe the counter and found nothing. Empty drawers and baskets mocked her effort to clean up after herself. She thundered down the loud steps to the basement, hoping to find a basket of clean kitchen linens on or in the dryer. Freshly-laundered and outgrown clothing covered the floor of the basement in heaps. Aggie
had
forgotten about everything in her relief to have clean laundry. Mrs. Gantry would pick up what Aggie didn
’
t want to save and take it to the thrift store on Wednesday. She shook her head slightly.
“
Stay on task, Aggie. Find a kitchen cloth and some dry towels.
”

With an arm full of towels and washcloths, Aggie moved toward the stairs. Mrs. Stuart stood at the foot of the steps, coldly surveying the room with obvious displeasure.
“
Agathena, this room alone should show you that caring for these children is much too much responsibility for you, and Alanna had no business requesting that you be the children
’
s guardian. I am appalled that Douglas stood for it, but I can assure you I will not.
”